Best Pronouncing Poems
I will search for you
when stars seem to be mute
their sparkle shrouded by the cool soot of love's burning root,
I will reach for you
when my lips are lost, fever embossed,
as the night brings only frost, soul between two tears tossed,
I will pray for you
when lightening lashes the rock of my wisdom,
marking my mind with trails trenched in the temptation of Destiny's prism,
I will serande for you
as my most sensitive skin awakens to be awashed in heaven,
seeking your sacred surfaces with open pours pronouncing passwords of passion,
I will find you
where the crossroads of creation and divination release revelation,
divulging the rudiments of desire into senses romanced by body fire and love red vision -
J.A.B.
Categories:
pronouncing, desire, heart, i love
Form:
Ballad
How can you look someone in the eyes and tell them it's the end?
How can you possibly do that without shedding tears?
Or even blinking?
Do you not feel it? That pain, that pain that's taking over
Their soul, as you tell them their life is ending?
Or maybe it's just that you have lost your own soul?
In that instant when you found out that the greatest part of yourself
Is about to disappear,
That its light was about to be permanently extinguished.
Can't you feel it? That sorrow that slowly shutters their hearts?
Or the fear that's taking over their minds? it's a furious fire,
Cutting off any glimpse of hope with its smog,
That fear, its suffocating their soul into its last gasp.
Can't you see it? How that laughter ends sharply, in pain?
How it breaks in half every time, never to relapse into its fullness?
How the darkness stealthily takes over those, once life-filled, eyes?
That following calm,
It's the call of darkness,
Smoothly enchanting their soul into submissiveness.
Until all is in deadly silence,
Their bodies still, their souls forever gone into unknown.
Do your tears come then? Do you feel their pain then?
Do you see it? Or do you stay the same?
Unchanged, unemotional, shell shocked,
And forever unbelieving still?
Categories:
pronouncing, dark, death, deep, fear,
Form:
Free verse
I invented something quite peculiar
Last night
In my lucid dream
My neo commanded my allo-cortex
To prepare allusions to be downloaded
Upon returning to my physical presence
Caught in middle-sleep, guardians of satan
Were mocking the death and resurrection
Of Jesus Christ, shouting and laughingly
Pronouncing God The Father and Jesus
The Son as "the two lunatics"
Every direction I faced, the 'alien race'
Of towering blondes blocked my escape
Knowing I had lucidly dreamt a downloadable
File to be recovered once awake, I summarily
Accomplished this by attaching a small device
To the frontal-lobe side of my skull and
Activated the sensory-absorbing module
Instantly slipping back into my lucid dream
Allowing edits to be re-programmed
I was able to disrupt the satanic bonds
Holding me captive and cast out the
Demons that possessed me
Declaring the Lord Jesus Christ as my
Savior and Ruler of the Light that shall
Set man free!
Once again returning to my physical realm
I was even more determined to
Spread
His
Love
Upon
The World!
04.16.22
Categories:
pronouncing, dream,
Form:
Narrative
PARTS AND COUNTERPARTS
scrawled on the blackboard jungle, a mural
of profanity – pronouncing women’s names,
their parts and counterparts. reality creeps
from the verminous city streets. the mundanity of
laying out private jewels as a juxtaposition,
where silk and careful hands of morality are much kinder
and richer. but humanity takes hold of a fair lady’s dress,
tearing it off, shredding the human form to pieces,
leaving it drowning, cut off, creating the volcanity of a whore.
of this insanity is born the fatality of our newborn, with
no need for formality. the brutality of drug dealers and
youth molesters pulls the innocents down into the sewers.
they sense, they know, something is not right, but their fingers
slip, their feet cannot grip the slimy pit that drags them down
down
down
no one hears their cries for help. smoke like fog swirls around
their sacrificial heads. their eyes bleed with blue breaths.
the inanity and anonymity of their broken lives unbearable.
the mentality of cobblestone above their shattered roof, flowing
with the vitality of gold, silver and diamond luxury. a boy, a girl
can hear the click of red heels, the laughter of freedom, just out of reach.
he screams, “no, come back!”
she screams, “someone hear my cries, before i die!”
urbanity, so at ease. no one sneeze. no address of poor kindling tied
to the monster’s altar, where malicious eyes and tongues squeeze out laughter.
1/23/2017
Silent One’s Word Challenge Contest
Categories:
pronouncing, dark, evil, innocence, pain,
Form:
Free verse
My dear sweetheart, let's take a walk
and have a talk
Whispering sweet murmurs of forevermore
on that golden shore
Pronouncing promises of staying together
in every weather
Reminiscing the memories we made
they never will fade
Declaring delicate vows of devotion
across any ocean
Vowing to value each other for a lifetime
as two hearts singly chime
Forgetting the world and its worthless worries
throwing them to the breeze
Spending special eternity with one another
kissing away bother
Losing our lives to love once again
reviving ardour yen
Crooning comfort in crepuscular crescendo
under heaven's vast window
Pledging utter passion that's perpetual
soft avowals mutual
Holding hands and joining souls in a world without end
that's where our lives we'll spend
Categories:
pronouncing, true love,
Form:
Rhyme
MY DREADLOCKS LOVER
Your dreadlocks flutters like streamers
Your thick dreadlocks spreads like tethers
Your eyes are like coffee mix with white lily
My lover,
I come from a beautiful place
Where they believe dread is a taboo
Pronouncing the word Da-da is a grievous sin
Where you are told what to believe
And even hate what you believe
In between my Momma's damnation, my Poppa's bellicose, and my usual rebuttal of indifference
All began because of you.
I am told to stop loving you
I am told you are a lie
I am told you are an illusion
I am told that contemporary history books may forget my name
Because of you.
I was told that Spartan Hoplites wore a formal locks but you don't
Why?
Are all dreads dreadful?
Dreads are not dreadful,is it?
I love every strand of your dread
Marley's midnight ravers resonates my love for you
You are the worst thing that has happened to me
I blame my soul for being a courier to the wind
I won't allow religion to destroy our love
All my sins,
All my memories,
All my ideas,
My love for art,
I'll tie into your dreadlocks like a scrapbook
I'll hold all very close to my heart with a marked cowries for every event
Dreads are for legends!
Dreads are myths!
Dreads are locks to our soul.
Categories:
pronouncing, africa, art, love,
Form:
Free verse
Precariously personable
Privately peeved
Parading pompously
Pronouncing pretty paragraphs
Possibly pretending pompousness
Poetic permanence
Powerfully
Performed
Categories:
pronouncing, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Alliteration
-- Just a bit of silliness --
"Baissez le rideau, la farce est jouee..."
---- Daumier
39 & 1/2 days had passed;
the rain had lessened.
Noah, grungy and grumpy,
paced the wet deck
like a caged Lion of Judah.
Reading the Odyssey by blubber-light,
Jonah, a free-thinker, cruised
in his whale below; he marveled,
captainishly, carefully pronouncing
the unfamiliar Greek, an uninvented
tongue he couldn't speak.
Ham, an adherent to all the dietary
restrictions, was relieved
at the journey's almost-close.
Consultation of the Holy Books
had proved he wasn't kosher
and, therefore, could not be served.
Still, Shem and Japhet eyed him oddly.
They had a lean and hungry look.
The wives, sensible lot,
cleaned the kennels, did the chores
and tried to keep an even keel
in the anachronistic mess.
They drifted onward,
tired of fishing fruitless waters,
doubtful now of being made
fishers of men.
All things considered, it was
a perfectly normal situation:
men were mystics
and women staid and sturdy workers.
And yet, Ararat, still beneath the waters,
may not have been the only futuristic
structure in this grey, flat
seascape.
Categories:
pronouncing, bible, boat, dream, fantasy,
Form:
Free verse
Inundating radiant sunshine beams
down on my face
fervently tracing crows feet
nearing the frown I can taste
obliterating tear streaks
transmitting them
into the depths of outer space
introducing an iridescent spectrum
of piercing waves
golden ears fear in the race
Electromagnetic oscillation
inspiring me to rely
religiously
upon solar energy
photosynthesis
eradicating unwanted toxins
by chasing them
vehemently
So on this sacred date of "ONE"…
negative energy is trumped
by the positive tsunami
of the sun
and as she dares me
to stare into her face of grace
ninety three million miles away…
I sigh
as her radiance blasts my face
in such a merciful way
suddenly my shaking knees
give way to an epiphany
that this day is laced with sanctity
Finally
the world's eyes feast upon
an auspicious
uniformed alignment
five ones standing side by side
gold adorned
a spiritual aspirant
making change the world will see...
"The Sun's Seven"
pronouncing a unified spirituality
* Entrance for P.d.'s "Unique Line" Contest-----This poem's title is unique "A Day of Ones In the Sun" because it describes a very special and unique calendar date 11-1-1. But if you missed it...
don't worry or let your eyes get blurry with tears
cus' 11-11 's comin' in a hurry to relinquish your fears.....so yes there will be another day of ones on 11-11-1! tho' I can't promise you at the Soup that the 11th will be filled with sun!------I believe my poetry, like many others on this amazing site, has a fresh variety, inspired by life and everything in it! I hope you enjoy my lines like :"the world's eyes feast upon
an auspicious
uniformed alignment
five ones standing side by side
gold adorned
a spiritual aspirant"
Categories:
pronouncing, death, devotion, faith, family,
Form:
Epitaph
United Nations, United Nations
What an oxymoron!
What an oxymoron!!
The platitude goes-
‘United we stand’
In the UN,
How erect we stand!
How erect we stand!!
We are *****erectus
Aren’t we?
This genocide-friendly unity of nations
With extra-care tending
The weeded garden of poison-trees.
When Hutus and Tutsies blood-bathe
The UN closely observes the situation,
When Israel unchilds, unhusbands and unfathers
The Palestinians, the UN
Appeals to both the parties to exercise restraint.
When the Theravada fanatics exterminate the Rohingyas
And the West-engineered Arab Spring
Tears the Middle East asunder,
The UN condemns and condemns and condemns!
O UN what a paradox you enflesh,
Bringing to the forefront
The anti-thesis -
‘United we stand, divided we fall’
To what insurmountable height you have taken
The human(un)kind, we have seen
Now anti-thetically we would like to fall
As ‘fair is foul, foul is fair’.
In your acronymic form
When in lower case
How prophetically you become
An ominous prefix!
UN, UN you are non-existent
An ethereal entity, a papier mache;
Ailan’s death has finally declared
You biologically dead.
Let this cenotaph be
Placed on top of UN HQ:
Here once architecturally stood
The divided conglomeration of Nations – the UN,
A metonymic entity
Proudly pronouncing human unyokability.
RIP, dear UN.
Categories:
pronouncing, sorrow,
Form:
Elegiac Lyric
The dandelion’s a noble flower
not a scraggy little weed.
it holds it head up proud and high,
born of a hardy seed.
It claims the ground it stands on
and makes itself at home.
Though when it spreads its family,
on winds of change they roam.
Its family is the strongest
of the wild flowers to be found
and set down roots to flourish
in any type of ground.
It not always gets a welcome
so these roots are buried deep
and those who try to move it
find most parts of it they’ll keep.
So ponder on its beauty
as it stands so proud and tall,
with golden head pronouncing
it’s the strongest flower of all!
Ivor G Davies
[The Dandelion is the adopted flower of Forces Brats - for obvious reasons]
Categories:
pronouncing, allegory, birth, family, flower,
Form:
Rhyme
Shrubbery is critical for survival
An absolute emergency
The most urgent crisis in existence
The human condition! The human condition! Think!
The most important thing in the universe!
Chant it one hundred times per night while chewing crackers
A chair is optional when morning comes
Contemplate due diligence, care, when sharing it
Tenderness is required at all times
Shrubbery is kind and wise
An absolute imperative is to love your shrub
Capital tools should be utilized when planting
Capital letters apply when writing SHRUBBERY
Slow enunciation, syllabification when speaking it is law
Improper elocution equals execution and sometimes death
Smile when pronouncing it
Whisper gently to it and it will answer back
“Bushes are bushes.” “Trees are trees.” “We are Shrubbery.”
“Genuflect before each bush.”
“Respect your Shrubbery.”
Categories:
pronouncing, appreciation, education, identity, love,
Form:
Free verse
As I sit and watch
Watch you denounce the obligatory violence
Announcing and pronouncing the fabricated freedom
Joyfully commemorating and celebrating your assassinated true leaders
The enemy killed not the leaders but the ideas
You buried not them but the ideologies intended to truly liberate you
6 feet deep under the ground,
Saying they shall multiply and long live!
Chanting slogans with no comprehension just for the rhythm and sound
Deep into the ground
Burying your true liberation from colonization
Being sold the false hope of FREEDOM.
As I sit and watch
Watch black man selling his kinsmen to the highest bidder
Manipulated by the enemy to think he is better and different
Better than the poor masses who sacrificed themselves to be his ladder up
You are no different black man
You are just a slave in a black tie
They bribe you with a cheque from your forefathers’ fortune and wealth
They use you to steal in your own pocket
Stealing your legacy to your enemy
Yes they are right ‘You are different’
The difference between us is your inanity.
As I sit and watch
I watch my brothers and sisters been turned to be educated slaves
Enslaved by a mere pen and paper
A piece of paper segregating us and determining our destiny
Desired so hard by many to own to serve the enemy
They chose very well the useless texts to colonize and brainwash you
They planned so well to systematically oppress you
They took the weaker with no vision to execute their plans
As I sit and watch
I watch them say “save that one in a cell we might use him later”
I watch them say “kill that one he is too stubborn, a true leader and he is a threat”
I watch them with white collars reading the scriptures that say ‘a slave must obey his master’ and shouting PEACE BE UNTO YOU!
I watch them on the other hand brutally killing, raping and stealing.
Wake up black man and liberate yourself
No one will
Not even your so trusted leaders
You are not yet uhuru and so is your Azania
They stole your land with a bullet and you shall get it with a bullet not negotiations and commissions
Free yourself
Decolonize your education
To truly liberate the coming generation
Preach not their gospel but Africanism and socialism
ALUTA CONTINUA!!!!
#I WRITE TO PROMOTE NO VIOLENCE BUT TO LIBERATE
Categories:
pronouncing, africa, freedom, leadership, peace,
Form:
Free verse
Some people say he scribbles when
they see that boy draw.
But once I took a closer look;
this is what I saw.
I saw imagination in
every shape he drew.
Where loopy circles interlocked,
he had colored blue.
Stick figures walked across his page,
but at a second glance,
I noticed one or two of them
had done a little dance!
He’s very young to focus so,
and this you need to know.
Encourage him, for he might be
our very next *Van Gogh.
* Pronouncing Van Gogh's name the most common American way. I am used to it and it is easier to rhyme with something that way!
Written 11/14/2015 for Oil Paintings 1-2-3 any Poem form Contest of Eve Roper
Categories:
pronouncing, art,
Form:
Quatrain
My wife is a hardheaded lady
So when she makes up her mind
Whatever it is that she wanted
Is just a matter of time
She wanted a family vacation
Everyone must make the scene
Including our kids and their families
We are a group of sixteen
The first one took us to Oregon
To a motel on the beach
Although everyone had lots of fun
It was just too far to reach
The next one was also held out of town
A nice place on Lake Chelan
With boats and skis and a swimming pool
Everyone thought it was grand
Went to Lake Chelan for two more years
Then we found a brand new spot
It was a big lodge in Idaho
We all loved that place a lot
We had that big lodge all to our self
It was on Lake Pend Oreille
It rained the whole week were there
We played games inside all day
Even though we had that bad weather
The vacation was the best
The place so big, kids played hide-and-seek
Good visit, fun games and rest
We returned there again the next year
It has its dock and bay
Water sports, fishing and paddle boats
Then someone sold it away
The next year’s vacation was different
We rented two large house boats
A week boating on Lake Roosevelt
I got sick and almost croaked
Then we went to Marrowstone Island
To my daughter’s new beach place
They caught crabs and clams, then bought oysters
Crammed sea food into our face
Then the guy boated to Port Townsend
But when they were coming back
Yellow boat died in the ferry’s lane
They barely avoided a smack
The next year it was back to Lake Chelan
But at a different place
One of the kids brought a small scooter
Road it all around the place
Two years ago, back to the beach house
Played games and had lots of sun
The tenth family vacation for us
For two year’s now there’s been none
My wife and think it is so sad
To lose such a tradition
Let’s start now and plan one for next year
That is this poem’s mission
NOTE: There always seems to be confusion on pronouncing Chelan, but the locals say it "shuh-LAN" (short "A").
Also, Pend Oreille is pronounced "PAWN-do-RAY"
Categories:
pronouncing, family, games, family, wife,
Form:
Quatrain