Best Presentiment Poems
Deep as defeat as conspicuous
As the influx of presentiment
Passion is aimless humility
Panic is native to injury
Reasoning divulging odium
Sparkles unchosen but chemical
Puritans' speechless delivery
Idles in syllables neutral to
Carpet biology tapestries
Woven in Persian but personal
Surfaced in diamonds and sodium
Burnishing flavorful scaffolding
Sauntering over the savagery
Blanketing social impurity
Witnesses! Silence the speechlessness!
Caution the ignorant eagerly!
Woe as the end of the suffering
Millions of eyes as the visual.
Freelance wanderer carefully navigating the vast expanse
Shadow warrior doth stealthily advance without
remonstrance
With bartered lance, pawned knife; abridged parlance
Shuffling in tantric harmony o'er unforgiving terrain;
nuanced eccentric
Camel cavalcade, entrancing spectacle across glistening
sands prancing
Shrouded by the frantic wind; each, cloaked itinerant a
tenured mantic
Trading the rationed provenance of open spaces for
gratuitous providence of flowering oases
Prudently forming each tribal alliance; deviously skirting
terms of compliance
Hearth covering from servile herd exacted; animistic
seams redacted
Burdened traveler in psychosomatic trance; by warming
flame, pyromantic
Each tenement provisioned by industrious wives; lofty
presentiment
Hospitality granted to imploring drifters; enmity shown
to extorting grifters
Progressive penetrative phenomenon
Pertaining to particular peculiar powers of perception
Psychological prosaic persuasive predictions
Probing probable peripheral presentiment
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Alliteration contest by Barry Stebbings
One stanza of four lines only
© 4th December 2017
Her guts were barking at her like a dog,
“What is it boy? What’s wrong?”
She tried putting a little English on what she felt.
Her eyes were exposed to the rust spots; she walked in the other direction,
mentally sanding it out.
It was a roller coaster nearing the top, and all she could think about was a missing piece of track.
Surrounded by faces smiling and screaming with their hands in the air.
“I guess this is really going to happen” she thought as she plunged into the icy dark water.
Everyone began to leave, their arms around one another.
She stood there alone, dripping wet, holding onto a stupid red balloon.
Sijo 2
it may be cruel to her/but I cannot shake off this
ominous presentiment/of the girl once I loved most
she has left this world long ago/stepping on the lonely path
O, Your Highness hold below that dominance ...
lets gets rid of sin niche
to appear all over its meaning clear
no hidden word blame
and we will bathe light
O, Your Highness stand beyond that dominion...
we are you wearing that crown
arranged by the time itself
we are always over your head
Above us the sky is always waiting
O, Your Highness lie down that presentiment...
we do not want to laugh in the party
roll your bed is too filled by dust
let a closed eye on every lie
We realize that death often comes uncertain
O, Your Highness keep that silence...
we shall dwell in quiet
The Newburghers
(A Jazz Talk in Six Parts -
Dawn - Introduction
Waking - Enter Von Newburgh
Genesis - The Development
Career - The New World
Vision - Vision
Dreams - Conclusion)
Dawn
The Realization
Came like a dawn,
Overall,
For all eyes to see.
What a word, is realization!
Does it make its object real?
No.
It is wholly subjective;
The near bridgehead,
The essence,
Of revelation.
The broadest dawn it was.
In ‘customed silence led,
By invisible degrees advanced,
And, like solar dawns,
Ascribed to single moments,
Somewhat past their inklings,
Which astronomers then assign
And historians debate.
The realization,
Like all dawns,
Came not with the new light,
But first, the fading of old stars.
A sense of darking,
Before the light.
The sense of passing of our stars,
On which all reckoning was built,
Gave presentiment before light,
And inner watch a pause.
What is that sense,
Not of the senses,
Of impending realization?
Night’s sands wiped from eyes?
A momentary tickle?
Perhaps to shunt from further notice?
Having come unbidden?
And unwelcomed?
Perhaps an aeon of its own;
An epoch in the twilight zone.
Too brief are solar dawnings
To give us to reflect.
But an immense dawn,
One unique,
May well stage, first,
A wondering.
Such a pause was this.
Swelling long,
Disturbing thought,
Before finally broaching it.
The realization so great,
Its foreboding was full summoning.
Widespread anticipation,
Eluding reason abstractly,
And history, obliquely.
And coming,
None conceived it fullness,
But all were swept along.
And, like days’ dawns,
Its light is not upon itself,
But upon all that is seen.
This, then, tells the story,
Of the dawning and the dawn,
And forecasts a zenith,
For ours and all to come
Now, metamorphosis -
Realization advancing into day,
And orphan men’s becoming Man.
He had not meant to drift
Yet he could not avert the dreaded nature of his anarchic days;
The craven, inebriated nights wherein all manifestations of Time
Slipped away from him.
Yet memory remained entrenched in the sensibility he sought to dull
As did the cruel actuality of his youth, a negation.
He was not as gauche, nor as ugly as he feared,
And even, in his better days,
Not as handsome as he wished.
He was a hybrid entity, splintered at the nucleus,
An estranged dark, stoic thing,
And the intervention of others upon the isolate continuum of a self embellished
In an unameable lattitude
Solidified his existence to a fate that was never his.
For Narcissism had been his fatality, and he knew it,
And he had never meant to be an affront to God.
Still some amorphous presentiment, which emerged, then retreated,
Impelled him to nourish whatever innocence remained in him,
As if that cruel malady could be ingested, assimilated, dart through
The air into his trembling hands
If only he could coerce his muscles into consummating the task.
A response to a certain common loss
Compelled him to frequent one particular deviant tavern;
A "brother" is what he said he needed so desperately to find;
How essentially insipid he must have been to believe that " a brother"
Could be found in that dank, windowless chasm.
Rendered ill, towards closing time,
He wondered which had succumbed easier to the whims
Of the foul wind that encircled him-
Was it soul, or physignomy,
Or was his Nemesis the streets, which he hit like clock-work
Moments before this days death, and dawn.
There was no plan to his existence;
He simply went with the tide, however frenetic, the moon
That made it dance,
Such was his Life,
An atrophied thing,
Remotely adherent to his quest before his corruption:
To acknowledge, even in the most solemn silence,
His inalienable right to be as he was.
You cry? You have been offended?
They do not want to be friends with you?
Do not cry, my little girl!
They are silly, and sometime
They will understand their mistakes.
Years will pass.
One day you will look in a mirror.
And will see the charming girl
with pensive eyes.
from a presentiment of a miracle.
You will dress in your best dress
and will run along the coast
of ocean, the sea, or the big river.
Suddenly the white ship
with huge SCARLET SAILS
will appear on the horizon.
Solemn music will play,
and all command in dress uniform
will gather on the deck.
The crowd of people will gather at the coast.
But you should be near the water.
Soon the landing boat decorated with flowers
will have been lowered down from the surprising white ship
The young sunburnt captain will float in it to the coast, to you.
He will take your hand, will put on your finger the ring,
and will take you with himself in Happiness.
People on coast will cry to you:
«The happy way! Good success!»
And those who offended you,
will be very much surprised and disappointed.
They never heard about the fine book
by Russian writer Alexander Green
« The Scarlet Sails «...
... You do not cry any more, my dear?
You have understood,
what this fairy tale says about you?
But you must,
like the girl Assol in this book,
keep faithful to your dream
and wait for your own ship with SCARLET SAILS.
Thou art the only one that I love,
Ever since the day you stole my heart,
And when our eyes had its first collide.
It is always thee here in my mind.
I can't contain presentiment inside of mine,
And it feels like I am mesmerized,
I’ve lost my mind whenever thy near,
And can't deny I feel the chills.
So intricate this love must be,
Thy heart perhaps beats not for me,
I hope my surmise is not that true,
'Coz all I want is thee my love.
Love is requisite to live this life,
So I want to proffer genuinely it to thee,
Thou accept it with great felicity,
And thou hold me close to feel thy warm embrace.
'tis not the first that i have found
but in my heart it does seem so.
whereof can this be?
it passes understanding for me to know.
and yet i dwell upon the mystery
confused and in bewilderment.
yet must i contemplate all that is before me.
but there is no logic or presentiment.
so how should i travel on my quest,
how best to proceed in my darkness?
there is no choice but to forge ahead
and hope that there no precipice lies.
we are in the dark where enlightenment rarely falls.
like a flash of lightning,an epiphany fleetingly shows
and then it darkens into doubt and despair.
oh god,light up my darkness.
for where else can i turn in this bleak chaos?
Mine emotionally fraught days of yore
spilt presentiment tinged blood
into sucker punched battle fatigued
war weary veteran.
He (yours truly) doth
presently ramble, scrabble, and trundle
across gutted landscape
strewn with psychological potsherds.
Oppressive alienation hashtags me as outcast,
where new born babes technical abilities surpassed
scant infantile savviness (mine)
spurring notion, whereby yours truly
lived ages ago, when pace of life sedate
compared with present era in contrast.
Impossible mission to side step
cratered pock marked cerebral terrain
punctuating terra incognita courtesy disequilibrium
severely disrupting ability to function,
especially distractions issued out radio waves
regarding same Christmas songs
playing every hour.
I can't shake loose
being metaphorically entangled
cumulative detritus analogous geologic,
chronologic, and audiologic tracks laid down
since conception wrought
indelible grooves within noggin.
Risk averse demeanor
kept me hermetically sealed
against positive growth experiences
and (bully me)
not sequestered nor singled
out as token scapegoat,
whereby (wherein) psyche
relentlessly, quintessentially,
and painfully assaulted.
I too unwittingly, guiltily,
approvingly and willingly
allowed, enabled, and provided
unrepentant thugs to unleash brickbats
sticks and stones
(also Daily hurled at Georgie,
a Boxer/Dalmatian mix breed)
when our family Audubon, Pennsylvania.
Nevertheless, despite experiencing
horrendous childhood grievances,
I revere boyhood good times
a shy, (albeit rather socially withdrawn) kid
oblivious to danger
safely and securely affixed
to mother's apron strings.
Yepper, yours truly a bonafide mama's boy
severing figurative umbilical cord I could not deploy
even now as an aging baby boomer,
viz yule eyes long hair pencil necked geek,
I experience social anxiety,
when feigning hobnobbing amidst hoi polloi.
Thou art the only one that I love,
Ever since the day you stole my heart,
And when our eyes had its first collide.
It is always thee here in my mind.
I can't contain presentiment inside of mine,
And it feels like I am mesmerized,
I’ve lost my mind whenever thy near,
And can't deny I feel the chills.
So intricate this love must be,
Thy heart perhaps beats not for me,
I hope my surmise is not that true,
'Coz all I want is thee my love.
Love is requisite to live this life,
So I want to proffer genuinely it to thee,
Thou accept it with great felicity,
And thou hold me close to feel thy warm embrace.
Thou art the only one that I love,
Ever since the day you stole my heart,
And when our eyes had its first collide.
It is always thee here in my mind.
I can't contain presentiment inside of mine,
And it feels like I am mesmerized,
I’ve lost my mind whenever thy near,
And can't deny I feel the chills.
So intricate this love must be,
Thy heart perhaps beats not for me,
I hope my surmise is not that true,
'Coz all I want is thee my love.
Love is requisite to live this life,
So I want to proffer genuinely it to thee,
Thou accept it with great felicity,
And thou hold me close to feel thy warm embrace.
Romance is kindled
by fiery ashes dwindled
Cares not for anguish
wants to clear languish
Prepare for the searing
expectancy is cheering
Figure craves wholeness
restoring health focus
Connecting with deities
rejecting ancient theories
Replacing the torment
with ageless advent
Let us commence fasting
our creation everlasting