Best Realign Poems
Humanity
The pagan pilgrimage, sun-worshippers frequently make
Latter-day phenomenon, take off on a Bronze Age break
Constellations change position, solstices realign
Tropic of Capricorn peaks, Cancer starts its slow decline
Astrologers reassure us, the end is not bespoke
Astronomers can’t sleep, has a supernova awoke?
Healthy cells deconstruct inexorably from their core
Runaway chain reactions, laying waste forever more
Be that as it must, cosmic cataclysms generate thrust
Comets are slightly nudged, on a collision course with us?
Ancients believed them omens, wraiths of impending slaughter
Those billion ton tailed curveballs, catalysed Earth with water
Modern man searches for answers, drowning in misnomers
Melding PhD honours, with chatbot E-diplomas
Teleporting entangled particles, throws back a hack
Time travelling marvel, rewinds the real Bronze Age back?
Absurdness seems lame, yet concomitantly germane
Hawking conserved energy, by merely using his brain
Newton had a bachelors, kept him celibate stable
He’d balls of steel for sure, alas no bearings on that cradle?
Information cannot be destroyed, only zeitgeists can
Synthesised is truth, in the malleable hands of man
Life’s more delicate, gravitas hidden behind a smile
Like tales that flightless birds, buried heads in denial
Ostriches evolved kick-ass legs, and win the biped race
They dig shallow pits in sand, not complex black holes in space
One squawked this revelation before zooming off to die:
“Humankind’s the sole species, with good reason to ask why”?
In a world bejeweled
with tainted trinkets,
and feigned flowers,
we follow the
wailing waves below
whirling wind,
like secluded silhouettes,
stranded on the
cusp of chaos,
unable to find the sparkling
streak of hyacinth hope-
between dusk and dawn.
Perhaps there is a
reason why I stopped
rewriting runes with
cashmere conclusions,
as I’ve long been
dreaming of dahlias,
on weathered willows,
oblivious to the
dancing rays
of rising sun swiftly
cascading like
caramel confetti.
I am like the
sleepless ocean,
letting the
fleeting phases
of bewitching moon
lure floating sapphires;
pushing and pulling
my insomniac tides
with turquoise triggers,
as the inner-child
continues to sail
through tumultuous seas,
healing from
the trauma I’ve been fed,
concocted with
raspberry ruins,
from silver spoons,
on dulcet trays.
I’ve tasted poison
in the fruitiest of cocktails,
although the flavors
of life remain
a mystery within a fickle
game of chess,
incomplete
and unattainable.
I search for a sanctuary
where peace lilies sprout,
beneath the eclipsed horizon,
blindfolding my third eye,
as I waltz through astral
spheres to reach
an elysian dimension.
Amidst unanswered questions
hanging like
unsolvable equations,
for all that I’ve believed
was but a myth concealed
in illusory amulets,
bruising my inner psyche,
preventing me
from seeing beyond.
Yet the morning sky
convinces me to
reconsider and realign,
as the whimsical breeze
whispers in a soft cadence:
the Universe is infinite,
so am I.
This pink granite
heart is as vast as
the spring-hills with
deepest of falls,
prevailing traces of
my silenced voice.
And when mauve clouds
kissed my frail fingers,
I remembered how stars
do not need our touch,
to unravel fate laced in
citrine dust,
Like how I breathe-
lavender love,
within me,
leaving no blood
in my veins but poetry-
flowing as the poem
of pearlescent tomorrows,
through thin
sangria streams,
in daisy dialects.
So who am I~
but a mere dot on a
faceless canvas,
an echo of your rosy rhymes,
an incomplete verse with
complex metaphors,
weaving woes in
sunflower silence..
you want to know a secret
when I write a poem and it's perfect
i dont share it
i bury it
deep inside of me
where no one else can see
i mean its perfect
not like this shift
it's elegant, poignant,
simplistic, bueatful
trucking perfect
its not erotic
but i read it
mentally masterbate to it
a euphoric chorus
straight form thesaurus
its just that great
im not being egotistical
if read, it would become universal
a meter tethered in clasical measure
a rythmic flow
with many metaphoric undertows
an iconic harmonic tonic
to make you feel like an embryonic hedonic youth
im not being napoleonic
its an actual truth
factually accurate
high in heaven
it produced a tear in the eye of god
who proclaimed
not a single flaw
not a single flaw
and he only saw what i wrote
well, because hes god
me being me i like to tease
allow me to be inclined to share a few lines
blow your mind
redefine your collective defective perspective
realign your ineffective respective connective tisue
"all my cows milk is homogenized
all my crows are well organized
all my sheep like to stare and creep
like to stare and creep"
but you'll never see
the rest of my secret poetry
that only exsist inside of me
cows will always moo
crows will always ka kah
sheep will always go baah baah baah
and the perfect elagance
of my literary inteligence
will die with me
never being seen
qouted, memorised or plagerized
as i will say with my last gasp
the next line being twice my last
all you super-duper-soupers can kiss my ***
ok all you super-duper-soupers have been slammed. if you want to slam me back just a few things. make it funny. make it a little nonsensical and definitly make it over the top
and if you do slam me back send me a soup mail or leave a comment so i can go read your slam.
I’m the Swarovski pearl
of an origami dream,
sailing amidst superficial salt,
soaked in sinister sparks,
floating like deceptive debris
and artificial aquamarines.
As the sea weeps luminous lies,
the truth rests
in stars above,
mirroring phrases written
on tales of the island that seized
the light within
the heart of the ocean,
while you and I remain
anchored to the bleached reefs,
where corals grieve
in chromatic colors of hurt,
wishing the sky would stretch
its cashmere wings
to carve ripples of serenity ~
unfurling mermaid mercy
to paint life with
peaceful pigments…
Tonight, I surrender my tears
to the tumultuous tide,
allowing woes to flow with the waves,
as ethereal spheres speak to the
twilight that aches like sirens ~
resembling this silent longing
to unchain my bones from the
steel eyes of evil leaves,
find a reason to realign
the cracked constellations ~
breaking away from the pain
that left me breathing
alone in this darkness,
like a prisoner awaiting
the release of diamond dust
into the wisteria wind ~
engrossed with perfumed pretense,
where every fabricated feather
folds and shapes
slowly into
crystals of clarity,
sapphires of sincerity,
topaz tranquility ~
forever calming the surging sorrow
that thirsts and pines ~
eternal flames of
moon-kissed fortitude.
I long to be the
solace that sings not of hate,
but of l o v e and kindness.
I trace cosmic zest,
filling the dusky weight
with galactic gratitude,
wishing upon pirouetting peridots
that time will taste
warm grace and compassion ~
humanity, the beloved sonnet
of the astral algorithm…
Zoned out in the darkness
Time devours my vitality
Trying to swim; I sink to the bottom
Meet me here in aphotic darkness
Our devilish souls can create a tsunami on the surface
And obliterate all other love
Light hearts, ripples
As we drink their shallow cries
Unite with me as I swim your depths
Wave after wave of divine pleasure
Designed to realign my spine
Chew my insides as a piranha
Our love is worth the death of earth
I'll chance obliteration,
In my blinded sight just to
drown in the depths as you destruct my soul
Our eternal souls are dust from a falling star
To once part and come back together from afar
Here is two imperfect hearts and souls
That when together they are whole
Will it be fate or destiny as this story unfolds
Both hearts and souls which was once complete now broken and lost
It came at such a high cost
Hurt anger pain and sadness
Helped create this madness
Even though both hearts misbehaved
This was a one of a kind love that needed to be saved
She looked to stars as he did the same for a sign
With the hopes these two hearts would come to realign
Forgiveness had to be found
Or the heart would never be sound
Back to our souls desire
A relationship to admire
Our love was deeply meant to be
For it was written across the stars drawn into our destiny
I whisper to you in the quiet night
So many thoughts there are to say
Immersed in the corners of darkness
While so long you have been away
All these miles of distance and time
From another life merge with today
A peaceful revelation and sublime
Only you would understand this way
Echoes unite with comfort in a stance
Words engraved one can never erase
I don’t have to take a second glance
I just realign my heart with what I face
From another realm you take my hand
Together we flow safely over the falls
Our love is a constant as the water to land
No matter if anyone hears our calls
As time races forward and waters do rise
Everything stops in our moments shared
Around every corner there is a surprise
Even apart, our voice for us is spared
Heidi Sands
6/28/17
Placed 1st in the Jan 2019 WK2 Poetry Contest.
“It” embraces “togetherness”
Like blemished mascara on a retired call girl
“It” would speak in aggressive audible banter,
As if crystallized bullhorns were
Strapped
Onto unwelcome seating arrangements
No boundaries.
No consideration.
No apologies.
Yet, their measurement of pride
Coagulates into withered centimeters
While seducing unscented tulips
With impoverished protractors
And tattered encyclopedias
An unsatisfied square root with no common denominators,
Lacking
No (re)solutions.
Does “it” see colors when they build a façade of deteriorating vowels?
Or is their blood alcohol level tested
By walking on borrowed heels
And pickup lines made of disappearing ink,
Purchased in bulk
Could they realign high hopes while riding on constipated high horses?
Hoping to veer towards whimsical sunsets,
With silver medal’s soul mate,
Drinking from another cracked bowl of pretentious vapors
Feeble attempts to take the hand of any “available” heartbeat,
Hoping they can slow dance to their newly, hand-written
“Woe is me” Polka ballad
Another baby put in the corner
Another bounced reality check
Another hunt for rebounded bliss within conceptual kiss
No hope -> Know hope
No love -> Know love
No better -> Know better
An educated tragedy is their only flirtatious lyric.
©Drake J. Eszes
Despite the climate challenge with traffic congestion on the road,
there’s still a driving urge to go out and celebrate the Eucharist;
it’s a great deal of commitment to God who’s the source of life,
his language connotes an embodiment of love for our salvation.
Braving the difficulties in coping with the details of missionary life,
such as culture, language, climate, food and many others in foreign lands;
our faith gets tested, our humility gets challenged, and our identity revealed
and these comprise the foundation of being a missionary to other people.
In places where we learned to love the people of different cultures,
the need to adopt, acculturate, and realign to the mysteries of being a migrant,
continues to witness the movements and other signs of the times;
a world replete with endless search drawn from different human experiences.
It’s pretty common as a pervading theme across the passages in the bible;
the word migration that has a powerful connotation and rich in literature,
oh, as the holy scriptures say: “you shall not oppress an alien; you well know
how it feels to be an alien, since you were once aliens yourselves in the land of Egypt.”
The advent of a wide range of issues about the struggles in today’s migration,
with varying reactions characterized by principles, ethnic and religious devotion;
a certain perspective is formed according to Christian beliefs and aspirations
that migrants no matter who they are, deserve respect and societal insertion.
Lured by the promise of work and better opportunities that await somewhere,
people across the globe try their luck and take the risk to cross the land,
it’s viewed with deeper reflections like those of mostly Catholic Irish who came by,
their large influx in this country of America during the height of potato blight.
True to form, this parallels the new waves of Hispanic immigration
along with Asians, Africans, and other migrant groups with their history and cultures
truly, it’s a cycle that brings out the commonality of human quest and ambition;
with assimilation and determination to maintain and improve their life situations.
Traces of Haile Selassie ‘I’
The Lion still roars
Traces of Martin Luther King
dream lives on
Traces of Bob Marley
In song “get up stand up for your rights”
Traces of Malcolm X
Segregation fight still burns bright
Traces of Mandela's
Fight for justice set free
Traces of Marcus Garvey
Purpose and His-story
My people realign and trace
History of their victories
On the walls of the Pyramids and sand
Inscribe with Sculpt object in hand
It is said “there is no future without history”
Revelation given by our ancestries
Traces from ancient of times
Activating inquiring minds…
©Copyright Brian Pierre-Alexander -Sept. 2011
© All Rights Reserved
As we bring in spring the thing I mainly dread,
Is preparing overbearing taxes for the Feds.
If I had the power to empower anything,
I’d shower that power on a tax decoder ring.
This sure thing ring would sting right at the source,
Of our outmoded tax code that has strode off course.
Have you tried to pry that awry tax code of late?
It’s a crazy maze that takes days to navigate.
There are fleets of sheets that compete for chaos.
I’d say this, there’s more bliss in kissing an a**.
I’ll be damned buying logjams of programs galore,
Plus I weep since that heap’s not so cheap anymore.
There are mountains of accountants wanting your money,
But their inflated stated rates aren’t very funny.
Fed’s have misled and bled the profits from us fools.
It’s time to realign by denying old rules.
We’ll put uncommon common, back in common sense;
Saving dollars, in our jars, instead of just cents.
My decoder will reorder the disordered code,
To a simple flat tax that enacts a fair load.
There are seven levels of bedeviling rates
That ascend from ten percent to thirty eight.
Yet history shows, tax inflows to government
Do come to, since WWII, 18%.
If you earn a thousand or a thousand times that,
You pay the foreseen eighteen, and that will be that.
Then all payers will say they have skin in the game.
As the proportion per fortune will be the same.
The norm filling out the reformed form takes seconds
Just sign on the line that defines dues or refunds.
No loopholes to patrol or breaks for anyone.
It’s an equal sequel to our Constitution.
So to all who fall under rich, medium, and poor,
Will never be favored by favors anymore.
A flat tax will attack the elite’s status quo
Though not a bettor, it better, coz I’m low on dough.
Disorientated in the world I've known.
Struggling to comprehend what's defined.
Unable to fix my course, I'm alone.
I stumble through my encamped darkness blind.
Encircled by confusion I must stand,
To confront the reasons that find me lost,
And reach for the will my soul shall demand,
To defeat this fluster, to pay its cost.
My depth of will begins to marbleize,
As I dissolve fear of failure away.
Before me a challenge I won't disguise .
The tensile strength of my will on display
Confused in the wilderness of the mind,
To temper the lost soul, to realign
"A Shakespearean Sonnet of Introspection"
~As the Master, Precept of Infinity’s divinities,
scuffles the senses of the Moses deck of life once again,
human concepts often need of love's mercy again to please.
I am deceived once again by mask face of the human sin!
`O falseness of masks, made of concepts of the social grace,
politically correct for the worldly mind to inspect,
albeit, I seek realign in Precept Divine, new face,
for my pride of life, causes great strife, endeavors re-erect.
Love erases by multi-grace of its Divine divinities,
many shattered notions, abiding the need of the multi-grace.
These multi-faces of social graces lie with increasing ease,
as reality’s face, God‘s grace, seems to care so out of place.
I shall press the wrinkles, of physical sense of Agape,
as Love’s monopoly I become photo static copy!
For and in Honor of Nette Onclaud
And Contest: “It’s Mask Time
He told the tales with likes and similes
human character dressed as grass and trees
the fragility of life just like a mist
as touched by divine spark like children kissed
He drew attention to earths everlasting beauty
and loving kindnesses as worthy over duty
painted pictures that a child's mind could see
and of the qualities that would last eternity
Those he drew were woman child and man
in parallels explained Gods everlasting plan
a future government by Gods own plan designed
choosing those who like his Son in mind
The currant rulers here described as beast
devour and make suffer great to least
he implicated leaders intentions as the cause
as having violated all of the natural laws
He pointed out the signs to tell the time
how earth and heaven his plans to realign
where peace on earth in every nation he will gain
with truth and everlasting life they will maintain
Surprise a life in heaven was not the plan for man
but he put us on the earth in a garden understand
he intends this projects finish by his Son
with those he has redeemed to be the ones "to get er done"
I must advise you those in the grave are dead
they will remain there until the Son has said
he who has the keys of death has them in mind
to resurrect upon the earth in a future time
While Christendom adopted the ideology of hell
the Teacher of the Truth in sleep of death did tell
he called his friend who was dead and in a grave
forth the example of what his future rule will pave
How can you not get it the things he plans to do
to eliminate on earth suffering and all life renew
oh Shang gri La and Paradise He plans for thee
where Man will live in Love and joy in harmony
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COPYRIGHT © 2012 C Michael Miller
Via Duboff Law Group LLC
One day I heard a knock
Or more a rapid tap upon my door.
It brought me not acute alarm,
For it was noonday by the clock
And noontime rarely brings one harm,
So with my midday tea I crossed the floor.
I took a cautious look,
Through entryway devices in the wall
Known only by my spouse and I
And were well hidden in the nook
Where unseen eyes allow no lie
From ill-willed strangers who might choose to call.
When I peeked out this day
I gazed upon a rather portly man
Of middle years and fine attire.
A well bred man one then could say
But said today they'd be a liar;
No "well bred man" this man of darker plan!
I opened wide my door of oak
Which as it hung weighed over half a ton.
But physics did allow that weight
And we've had not a single bloke
To realign the door to this estate;
When intellect's applied the job gets done.
This stranger stiffened straight
Then from his waist he gave a courtly bow.
I smiled at him and said "come in"
And little did he hesitate
Before his rotund body pushed within
Without a pause or cause to disallow.
I turned to see his rear
Still moving deeper through my sacred place.
I heard myself let loose a shout
Which was a shout no doubt of fear
Of what this stranger was about
And why this rude intrusion of my space?