Best Quantified Poems
Fun time and flight
A clock from Salvador Dali warped and draped in place
surreally oozing the minutes from birth to demise in a
landscape of our own making of how we narrate life and
the story filled with passion love disappointment transition…
Paintings of words and brushed colours danced song
oiled voices splash meaning fly along our journey for
when bells toll time-pieces chime ‘Chronos’ floats in
remembrance anticipation flights of fancy and escape…
Strange and humorous those days past realigned by
the present one blink and the moment is gone while
the river flows around us never the same as time stands
still and ticks just the same cascades the rapids of life…
Sequential on one hand of the clock times counts and
alludes to one thing leading to other like a winged relic
of reasoned emotion with intuition significance left behind
intervals measured and quantified like delusions of science…
Can ‘Kairos’ the indeterminate yet permanent quality
of en-lived stories and en-storied lives of narration and
lined context fly just the same when epiphanies last forever
when what matters most positions the other hand firmly…
Time journeys meanders along the path both forward and
backward remembering the future and changing the past
that is how both ‘Chronos’ and ‘Kairos’ move neck-breaking
speed’s painful arrest when Dali’s meaning melts us together…
It seems funny how and when times fly or when we placidly reason that
our perspective is moving and not the clock after all
05th October 2016 flying past or is it?
Silent One
Silent One rises with the solar system dawn
Drawn by solace in the quiet morning
Riding on the gravitational waves
Through numbered stars through dark matter there
Watching zeros mix, blend into the cosmic mist
Numerically correct seen whole among black holes disguises
Into tomorrow out there in themselves as distances
On the lip, inclining on their axis, universes eclipse then passes
Back at home, outside on roaming fields
Look up with them to take the solar system in
As it folds within a timeless bending scheme
Vast sky-capes emanating mostly quiet
Silent One remains intent, contemplative, waving
Stays out there for hours on a lounge chair tending day
Sipping tea beneath the harmless trees in shade
Sits serenely by, out of sight, time slipping by
Golden sun light streaming over day
Seen are the red and yellow flowers
Green grass peeks through abundant colors glow
Moved in a gentle wind to mesmerizing horizons end
Out there between the wilderness serenity and madness
Night comes on, explores the greater cause
Stars rain down, escapes the cosmic grip
Secrets kept, only to forget them when looking to the void
Lines traced in history, erased, once enjoyed
Silent One stands alone between a zero to the left
Two at the right numerically correct
True in place, quantified, residing
One and History rewind themselves, recite the story
Not to worry. There is always more to tell
A time fast forward quickens to the One original
One will always be the Silent One and not another
Fate will lead us off the silent planet
Earth is temporarily our home
Inevitably fading away into the silence black
Like Silent One, just that
Let’s take this outside
Your turn to be objectified
Necktied offside and brutified
Come step outside
Where you can no longer hide
Now you and me can collide
You’re worse than godzilla’s bride
Torpefied and vilified
Uglified, mean and evil-eyed
Always snide and undignified
Ringside, in your false pride
the eyes of Hitler recognized
Executing his genocide
Feeling justified nationwide
Lately I’ve been preoccupied
With thoughts of homicide
Accident by countryside
broadside you flip side
See you land in the fireside
For all the misery aside
you put me through - testified
Is your meanness really classified
I’m no longer taking it - qualified
I‘m no longer hiding it - quantified
No more excuses - are you satisfied?
Germicide and pesticide
Have you ever tried
To drink a ton of formaldehyde
To soften up your cowhide
Now we can go back inside
Your reign of terror on override
You’re toast and you’re fried
You’re been hogtied and humanified
Stupefied and rectified
Just as prophesized
AP: Honorable Mention 2025, Honorable Mention 2025
Submitted on May 16, 2018 for contest 8-MILE STYLE POETRY CONTEST sponsored by NICK TRIM - RANKED 4TH
Labyrinth of Sighs
Wondering through a labyrinth of sighs
More platitudes with attitudes that never question why
A litany of afterthoughts about where we go when we die
An emboldened range of rude retorts refuting the reasons why I cry
A canon blazing wartime over a century ago
The night sky spent stargazing, wondering what we really know
A multinational conglomerate just phasing out more duplicitous advertisements that “flow”
A hungry orphan on a street corner, with nowhere else to go
Self-aggrandising promotion everywhere I seem to look
The wealthy uprising causing commotions, celebrities writing books
A typhoon on the island coast, Turkey on the day the earth shook
A morbid day that hurts the most,
An undignified Capatalist crook
The arrogant certainty of western superiority
The way the monotony forms around typecast minorities
The precedence of material goods conspiring to take global priority
The contradictions of individualism that consume the vast majority
The medical anomalies and surgical advancements
The incredible atrocities of cosmetic enhancements
A formidable ferocity of genetics and semantics
An incredible philosophy of frenetic theological pedantics
A sincere gaze of solidarity into another persons eyes
A mere phase of different polarities that use scientific graphs to signify
A Purple Haze of creative improvisational genius that cannot be quantified
A confused daze of inconvenience as another witness is proven to have lied
Returning to the central point of a theoretical discourse
Concerning a fundamental joint possible hypothetical recourse
A burdened soldier after war suffering the agony of remorse
An ancient boulder from the shores of civilisations geographic historical course
A curious mathematician, an inspiring original think
The spurious contradictions of a political candidate on the brink
A furious proposition concerning a scandalously placed eye wink
Human connectivity and the endless search for the missing link
Copywright Elizabeth Moroz
Avant Garde declarations of flawed misunderstanding
Ethereal hand's star cast thought's scattered materialised being
From under stones crept
To kindle fires of imagination's spawning grounds
Turned over in tumultuous caverns of repressed understanding
Unbound suddenly as spring leaves answer a sun's call from a hundred light years distant
Feeling crosses dread chasms with invisible bridges having no descriptive language to flaw their being
Under stars knowing by being under stars
Become my brothers outside of time's fantasy born gasp
My eyes know you over centuries in microseconds
Depth forgotten I reach out to hold you in my palms
And for a fleeting heartbeat's moment I hold a universe in my arms
Nails scratching a ceiling of light
The earth beneath me rises to a firmament's elemental haven
Drawn to sky alive
Laying inside the space between
Brink of countless worlds
Mirrored on grass by ancient paths
By fire cast by fire's hand
Kalimba tones underline music's word of finger etched peace
White flower in fields of midnight silver
Glowing through memory screaming parallel truths
Searching through countless lifetimes for bridges
A path to close the gap
I found it in the mirror's face
Dark lakes of highland dreams touching skin to a traveling gleam
Still pools on ancient roads holding timeless light
Reached out again for star's caress
Soul communication's shout
You are the bridges
Minds of walking life
Our transience quantified
By wandering stars
©David Nickle Read
2014
Every earlobe ever pierced, minus non-pierced lobes, without exception
Quantified by head size, quality of piercings, and variety of earrings worn
Under ultraviolet light, utilizing reflective space, sound waves and distance
At appropriate intervals, measuring cut, clarity, carat, color and character
Totaling to a six figure sum, then divided by US bonds withdrawn from IRA
Increase the risk of screaming in agony, up to, but not more, than 50 decibels
On an operatic stage, bursting glass objects, as per fat lady singing, wherein
Numerical miscalculations of damage, therein, must be subtracted from the
Sum, so that all of said variables will not exceed the confusion of the bystander.
Written on 3/9/2016
To utilize this is our life's
responsibility
For in disguise opposition an
opportunity
This is a chance to prove our
ability
Of what use could be storms
impunity
It cannot create a sail to
celebrity
No fact has the human race
accepted
No law has it established
Unless it can be understood
and measured
And the social intergrity
quantified
So does the leader of such
race be qualified
At home being a stranger! Not
us
Homecoming fun,not nervous
Would not dare call the
inhabitant monstrous
Feeling a love and welcome
surplus
Memory of home in my heart I
can't minus
Leadership not left to
aristocracy
Politics an unending conspiracy
Of a mans eccentricity
Evolved into an age of
democracy
What is the reward of this
legacy
When in diligence a man seat
He sweeps kings off their feet
Not over you,not over
me,never forget
The shadow does not take
sway yet
For power no more a secret
Author-TIMIPRE BRIFINI
Burdened waves slow motioned,gently lift tired eyelids-whispers.
Speaks an incomprehensible raspy language to subconscious;
Mind unaware,eyes chained to where blue meets azure.
Mourning waves wailing past sorrows unforgettable.
Scorching sun above witness, time's healing ointment
Calms sloshing, turns to gurgling, frothing & silence.
Waves' heights mark decibels, joy & pain quantified,expressed.
Wisened serene waters meditate,singing soothing hymns
To lone hearts seeking life's meanings in the abstract.
Descending blanket of darkness muffles frolicking surf.
Agony laden screams, writhing to escape clutch of terrors
Unknown. The blue deepens, murky black leaves sea affected.
Penance of shouting, weeping & sobbing at the altar
Of solitude, fruits into return of pristine innocence.Rebooted.
Burdened waves slow motioned,gently lift tired eyelids-whispers,
Carriers of secret messages,unheard stories & salty tears.
Caressing sleeping ears, rise,rise to the sounds of the sea.
Rise...rise soon for a new Blue Ballad lies in wait.
-©Viraj Shah 30.11.2013
Sitting alfresco, with a screen open to the Daily
On a fashionable stretch of street
Lined with expensive everything where
Scents of coffee roast, mingled with vanity
Shiny hair flicking insults and smiles, as waiters
Danced between tables of note
Such is life, he wrote with a grin
Beneath the image he sent to his wife
Of himself and his morning café
His last morning, as it was, of the way he saw life
Looking back that moment quantified
That life isn’t such isn’t that
For some…
The image captured a smug well-dressed executive
In a comfortable life, enjoying the successes
Enjoying a coffee and the freedom
Enjoying life
The image also captured a boy
A boy in a chair
A special chair, with wheels and gadgets and
Controls just in reach
Of a life just such
Or perhaps just out of reach
Melancholy swept over him in that moment
Like witnessing the lowering of a casket of a loved one
He wasn’t sure if it were the tears that
Tendered an offer of concern from the waiter
Or, the fact that he’d spilled his coffee
He looked at the image again
Cherish the such…
Such is life he thought…
For some
Judy Konos Poetry Contest: C’est la vie
Mark Trichet
6 Nov. 2014
A Rictameter Times Three
Aware
Like in awake
As one self is to be
Diversified in all its ways
Complexity forever simplified
Incorporated primal truth
With center quantified
To complement
Aware
~
Content
Beyond relaxed
A soul seems so serene
Progressive labor force is lost
To new consistent and simplistic form
Conversion made to basic types
Where absolutes can make
Man's inner peace
Content
~
Sublime
A bit beyond
Broad mediocrity
With partial elevation in
Euphoric precepts as derived
By variance in digits seen
Complexity to start
Now simply so
Sublime
A rictameter is a poem written in a diamond shape. It
begins with two syllables, then four, then six, then eight,
then ten, then back to eight, then six, then four, then the
same two syllables that began the poetic. The challenge
is to make your poetic as near a perfect diamond shape
as possible. Try one and have some fun. It ain't as "easy"
as it looks. LOL. easyeverett
© Ben Burton Feb 5, 2014
I view beauty with desire
But am seen through abstract eyes
Which begats a mystery
For I don't try to be that kind
The shattered pieces in my wake
As tea leaves wither in the brine
Leave only scarves to pacify
The punctured seal can't be revised
No posturing through symphonies
With trebled horns, but for the one
That is and was and shall remain
While hearts still beat and rivers run
Should I not come before I go
Indulgence can't be quantified
For every itch that is not scratched
Becomes a casualty to time
Yet, with decorum I imbibe
Without deception at the core
Or abrogation of the vow
Unto myself, no spawn of spore
And without mirror to reflect
The bounder from a boundless shore
Inspectors at the terminals
Will fruitlessly try to record
But DNA will not impeach
The gene which flawlessly imparts
Abilities to cherry-pick
The naivete of hopeful marks
So, to ourselves we need be true
From courtesan to bon vivant
And though restraint may be pursued
It will not kill the will to want
My mouth cant be sealed
About the wonders of mama
I lived in her world(womb) for 9months
And there came a time for me to see a wider world.
Ah!it cost a cupful of pain
But no glimmer of hesitation came from her
Now,I am in the wider world
She gives me all the kingly outlook
When I cry,She is restless
When I smile,her face glitters
Without me,her world is gloomy
I look around
And see huge fence of Love
Love that can't be quantified
What can I Say
But to echo the wonders of mama
If my loves measurable
then a mathematician
you will need to calculate
how much I love you.
Composed 25th April 2017.
7-7-7-5
I thought I was happy,
And my future so bloomy,
Until I met you,
The wonders love can do.
You have opened my heart to love,
Just like the oil in an olive,
My feelings for you are way more than skin deep,
You send my heart on a beep.
I would like to rush us now,
But I am forced to bow,
To the growing love inside,
Very infinite it can’t be quantified.
As I close my eyes,
I see your cute smile painted in the skies,
I see the gentle warmth in your eyes,
And feel your strawberry lips.
We have a lot of secrets to uncover,
This we shall both discover,
Every time your heart opens like a flower,
The butterfly finds the nectar.
My body inhales all of you,
As your fragile heart jitters too,
Feeling your silent love whispers,
You quiver with bliss.
We met upon the stairs. In a brief moment of chance, I did not allow myself to be drawn away by other brighter, faster burning lights which held a momentary fascination and then flicker away destined to other paths. Approaching cautiously at first, you smiled. I drew a breath carefully and consciously, trying NOT to be the consumer and consumed at the same time. I can assure you, I am guilty of both. These guilts are born of my own selfish, greedy nature.
May the full cost of lies and truths be now forever damned !.... Brace yourself for the tide WILL come and claim its prize for both of these.
There is no more time, now you've gone for the long rest. Your part in my equation can now, never be solved. You have been removed, YOU, from all who loved and embraced you, and you, in return, embraced over the years. From your family, your kith and kin, your nearest and dearest, within the donjon of your castles' keep, where the young tendrels took root, were nurtured, and grew into strong confident men. You from Me. I think that length of time, I can not bare...You've now been long away these many many years. Too long have I focused and placed worth upon the many stresses each day bent and cast upon us. After, when too, I have made that forever last bed, no cost can be measured there, only the infinity of space and time can be quantified. I have no course corrections I can make in that sheathed landscape. They come in their own sweet time and, once upon you, there is NO second encour. I am behest to say, you saw the one true being held inside here. The die has been cast in that long winding, corridor through time, in memorum. If not for you, my life would have been less. Foolish vanities lain waste to this desert soul. Dry and barren this desert landscape. The trifles of an average day we shared. Thinking not of how quickly we would away from those hallowed halls, on those dark worn stairs we trudged together. Our arms tested under the weight of 8 to 12 books in Junior year secured only by our chins.
This Casper, I remain for my friend , who saw all as I did not and still remained my friend. The sinking barge of good intentions, I lain more, put upon more, and still you steared north and true.
Sleep well now my friend.
No one has had a better or more thoughtful friend as I had in you.