Best Pushing The Envelope Poems
The name
mistakenly saintly,
the other one
a rite-of-life,
a gauche passage
for some, for most
the contract costly,
imprints its meaning
post firey baptismal dive
to rise again somehow
from each our own
calamities, the personal
cataclysm we confront
or shun in a parallel life
of optimism, there each one
observes what was and lingers
to kiss the font of the child
within every one, each their own
version of the meaning
of catechism,
forgotten by most,
yet a lingering malaise
swims in their waking,
a sense of de je vu,
these are the incorrigible
pushing the envelope,
the timestamp licked
and mailed off
to other voices
that do not speak,
that do not arrive
through lips, yet
open sleeping minds
and hold the eyelids
to peer directly into
and through to meet
that thing that powers
the brain within,
to shine its glistening
luminescence, one
senses that thing
which is forgotten within,
is commissioned
to win the race of life,
and lose and then,
win again -
the losses mailed off
in worldly corrupted
creative ways, didactic,
where one revisits
as a dark shadow,
standing with all
those other
dark shadows,
frankly contemplating
conversion, and the
salt-strewn stinging
many paths of logic
through those
illogical clues
breadcrumbed
by all those
other shadows,
the eternal puzzle
of understanding
the life viewed standing
under lamplight;
in the disillusioned
poetic world,
we must forever
cultivate our garden,
that never-ending dream;
all is for the best, romantic
cliches and adventures,
falls and risings;
for those who think
they are normal
and above it all,
above the others -
all is never normal,
all is as it should be,
all is for the best,
we stumble and we fall,
some stay where they are,
others get up again and again;
all is as it should be,
all is for the best,
ou l'Optimisme,
Candide
a muse
amused
Candide,
all is as it should be
all is for the best
Candide Diderot. ‘24
It seems naughtiness is ingrained in my very soul
Joined “Naughties Anonymous” but I still lose control
Bad to the core
Naughty evermore
For Jan and me, pushing the envelope is our goal
© Jack Ellison 2015
"Intermission: Flutterby Reveille"
Impromptu like a moth
pale words flutter out of his
psychodelic mind
curious funny flutterby…
for a second then, I didn't move,
deadpan, I said,
"... try again with some panache, some style"
incredulously, I smiled,
he's tripping guitar leads
counting long-tooth years
and numbers between drum beats
here no rest for the wicked, we...
hear pretty worded poets
walk on tip toe
balancing wet bars
on bipolar tightropes
shaking up and banging upside down
all the pretty snowglobes
In his land of silent muses
driving as he wrote
Singing “Every Little Breeze Seems to Whisper Louise's”
Pushing the envelope
aside, he writes,
retirement is a caged zoo
he gets high on cryptic puzzles
and cracking her
Sudoku
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
Breakfast Reveille:
The Angels, “Take a Long Line”
https://youtu.be/4LdZAK2Rfkg
The Angels, “Rhythm Rude Girl”
https://youtu.be/4bWsbCpCwOg
The Angels, “Rhythm Rude Girl”
https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/angels/rhythmrudegirl.html
With the unlikely proposition that winter would end
green tips took
form
beneath the softening crust of snow around the
mail
box, a
collage congealed by road salt and sand
buried the early dream of spring in
a
granular mass
My slippered feet sank muddying the soft
sheepskin leather. Joggers pushing the envelope
as well
people the curb
cutting to the heart of the matter
springing forward with a rabid desire to bloom.
*I printed out Charlotte's contest direction and cut out the first word
in each of these lines.
Our Universe is unimaginably large.
Tendrils of galaxies spreading out in every direction as far as the eye can see. Hundreds of millions in every direction. Some estimates suggest there could be 500 billion galaxies in our universe. Each galaxy contains hundreds of billions of stars.
Many now believe our universe is but one in an ever-expanding multiverse of limitless size and age.
We live our lives on a mote of material small beyond definition.
How do we square this reality? How do we keep things in perspective? What’s the point really? We are just specks on a speck.
Organized human civilization is maybe 20,000 years old. The industrial revolution only 200 years old, we believed 100 years ago our galaxy was the universe.
Our understanding of reality has come far yet it’s just a pinpoint on an infinite scale of knowledge.
The point I guess is the journey, keeping our existence in perspective, staying humble and keep pushing the envelope of our knowledge.
TITLES
Miss Fay’s Day started out well
Thought she might skip out on work to play,
So she covertly leaves her little cubicle, the cell from hell
She really wanted to be a Storm Child Again
Chasing rainbows and pots of gold
Is that such a sin?
Never thought she would be so bold.
Being A Sweet Soul, she spends the afternoon
Wondering if she’ll even be missed
Vigilantly fighting thoughts of impending doom
Thinking if she doesn’t return soon, she’ll be dismissed
Deciding to stay and read Meditations in the Meadow
Fairy sprites provide a patch of moss to cover her toes.
Completely engrossed in meditation, she hears an echo
Is it friend or foe?
Deciding she was pushing the envelope
Returns to her cell in a sea of cubicle cages
She longs to play with the fairies in the meadow
And ponders if she will sing while Enduring The Ages
I want make an old dance new,
Show you how to follow,
Build a romance,
Pushing the envelope as far as you allow,
We knew we would mambo at first glance,
Going from vertical to horizontal now,
Starting with a foxtrot lance,
Ending in a waltz's bow,
Elegant slipping free of our pants,
Leaving fully dressed; saying "wow".
Does society condone our fling?
What malevolence will this bring?
The dogs still bark,
The birds still sing,
Will this leave a mark,
Much like a wedding ring?
Have we raised a monarch?
Fitting ourselves as queen and king?
Or are mischievous beings on our swingers ark?
Leaving no trace of the judgement worth following.
We always say it is only sex,
To some it is more,
For some it wrecks,
Deeming them as a cancerous sore,
Why does their casual and consensual sex,
Bring about prejudices like evil folklore.
These are good people you judge!
Good people you make cry!
Only because your beliefs won't budge,
Now good people start to die,
Potential poets, scientists, teachers, over your religion's grudge.
Death and hatred so prevalent now; when will it all end?
So many shamed for being different and free; and why?
All for a society that refuses to bend,
People say they don't see it, they lie.
I know women who cant find peace,
Simply because they experienced pleasure,
Friends, foes, family call them a disgrace,
Yet their pleas for it to all cease,
Fall on deaf ear.
I love them all,
Not for evil motive,
Or the good samaritans call,
But because a loveless life no one can live.
Embracing Hope
Miracle Man
2/24/2023
I oft have days when It’s tough to cope,
and I search for a knot at the end of my rope.
That’s when I begin pushing the envelope,
and find myself on the slippery slope.
I found the answer and no longer mope,
the answer was Jesus, He gave me hope.
“When you say a situation or a person is hopeless,
you are slamming the door in the face of God.”.
Rev. Charles L. Allen
Must thank the censors here on the Soup
Been pushing the envelope lately
Writing some naughties about bums and farts
Allowing me to bend the rules slightly
Letting you know I appreciate your leniently
Like turning a blind eye so to speak
But I have an affinity for off colour stuff
Can leave me trembling and weak
Must take a break in the middle of my writing
To douse my head in cold water
Temperature can reach one hundred and twenty
That's when I'm glad for my walker
So I'm gonna try hard not to be naughty
For me that's really quite difficult
No more bad words like pee, poop and farts
In the future with you I'll consult
© Jack Ellison 2013
Pushing the envelope is what I do.
Sometimes I bite off more than I can chew,
but that's how I am and how I roll.
I say what I say with my all my heart and soul.
I admire someone who can bite their tongue,
but if I did that
my tongue would surely belong to a cat!
If I were a lawyer I'd speak for you
if you were weak and small,
but I'm a poet and so I'll say,
"Geezzz, I write what I pleezzz."
I like to push and talk like I did in my youth.
Never mind what they'll say.
Just tell the truth.
By: Carole O'Terry Duet
Copyright: Aug. 9, 2016
"All Rights Reserved"
I think myself a lucky guy
The more I fail, the harder I try
Success don’t come easy I suspect
Nothing comes from benign neglect
So I keep pushing the envelope
Won’t take no, nada, nil, or nope
‘Til I accomplish what I can
I am such a determined man!
Written November 19, 2022
I reminisce, I miss those good ol’ days long ago
When I was a teenager, carefree and bold
lusting after chicks,
inviting a fracas,
Life was so full of excitement and adventure--
looking over the edges,
taking the high dive,
pushing the envelope,
ignoring boundaries,
going further and further...
and further!
Late night escapes from the bedroom window--
meeting up with friends,
a couple of beers,
joy-riding,
avoiding the cops!
Finally getting my driver’s license after trying
once, twice, third time was the charm!
My first date,
my first kiss,
my first car,
Those good ol’ days long ago, I reminisce, I miss.
SECOND PLACE WINNER
"I Reminisce, I Miss" Contest
March 18, 2021
Sing to me silly
of cracked silver eggs
in nesting bowls
under key and glass
in white corridors
Ruffle my hair
when we reach Cezzanne
my brain is alight
my colors wrong
The winter is spinning
The tide rushes in
Hand on my shoulders
the artist begins
Leave me alone
to view the world
a mapping of conquests
a shooting of stars
a whisper of science
will all be ours
Giggle me this
with cogs and whistles
marbles and wheels
metal arm bandits
dropping the egg
gone silver and cracked
taken from nesting bowls
now put back
Unison dream
museum quality
pushing the envelope
right off the table
into the white
of hall ways and byways
stale air and brightness
through glass leaded doors
to the bustle of worlds
not intended for us
past the safety of art
and the rhythm of laughing
of giggling, behalfing
a million odd things
to disturb and be dreams
to break into glorious song
never wrong
to the air turned to fresh with pollution
and depth of degrees
to the "fill me back up to the brim"
and release me back into the wonder world dim
with an inhale, an exhale, of "Ahhhh"~
which somehow I just didn't know until now...
faces in places
studied moments
in time
portraitures
as still life
breakfast pieces
people in
floating
experiences
translucent beauty
in plein air
blurring the genre
an immediacy
uniquely
his own
pushing the envelope
.. open
If it's going to be
It's going to be me
It's a do it yourself process
That requires personal responsibility
I'm not looking for any handouts
I'm not praying for a sign
I’m pushing the envelope
To make changes in my life
You see in this life you grab it
You hold on and don't let go
You keep pushing and pushing
Be relentless and bold
Be trustworthy
Do what is right
Be tough and compassionate
That's the secret to a successful life
So, if it's going to be
No doubt it's going to be me
Live life with passion
That's my responsibility