Best Reassembled Poems


Broken Glass

Melodious kaleidoscope
of broken glass,
Its mosaic montage
consumes lost encounters;
a toasting ceremony
for what perished.

Committed specialization
expires unrewarded.
Sand dollars of short-sightedness
decorate 
the exacting goddess 
of broken importance.

Sliced open, 
laid bare, 
and reassembled,
the vintage gown
of fractioned fragments
unites again 
with the society of tarts and cakes.

The time bundle 
of formulated heartbeats,
pulsate 
expansion and contraction
into 
the altered ambiance
of passion’s fragrant fable.
Categories: reassembled, life, loss,
Form: Free verse

Neon (9/11)

When dulled down shock painfully became
a pickaxe ache behind shimmering eyes,
the bludgeoning screen hammered memory cells
repeatedly, over and over.
Tears exploded, soft rain dampened flame,
the grumbling dust cloud debris disguised
broken hearts bursting in agonised swells
searching for life confirmation.

Crashed vultures, evil in senseless flight,
beating humanity for hours like a drum,
cramping the breath with holocaust claws,
gleefully gloating, gloating.
Yet humanity does not die in the night,
by the warped wicked ways of fanatical scum,
humanity fades not, nor crawls on all fours
the prey of abomination.

Could Hitler pulverise humanity dead,
could Stalin annihilate it's very soul,
could Hussein defile it's essence to dust,
could they, hell.
It arises from rubble and ashes instead,
steel resurrection, reassembled whole,
in the love and pride of people it must
elicit restoration.

Beneath the veil of despair-crippled night
a broken city seethed neon 'till morning,
mortal wounds blazed and shone in rebirth,
defiantly living, living.
And hope prevailed in each bulb burning bright,
in each filament, tube, each spark a new dawning
of all that Heaven allows on Earth,
a prayer-shot inspiration.

The carnage of angels bedazzled with pain,
yet the courage and conscience of saints empowered
a neon-lit love of brother for brother,
a blinding, blinding sight.
From sorrow and sacrilege raining again
humanity's wonder, upon them was showered
the love of the brave and the just for each other
that they become the light.
© Tony Bush  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: reassembled, death, history, people, uplifting,
Form: Verse

I Won'T Fall Apart

Pieces of my mind
Shatter
Splatter 
Onto the floor
Reflective side facing up
Showing multiple faces of thought
There they lay, upon a burdened earth
Waiting to be picked up
Reassembled
So to reflect light as a whole
An effect to stimulus of consciousness
Eagerly
Hands grab at jagged shards
Blood
Pain
Pushing past, with glue of thought
One goal
To contain myself
Again within a frame
Of mind, body, of sanity
Categories: reassembled, introspection, life
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Broken Pieces

Broken pieces
intermingled
scatteredshatters
unsorted
reassembled
a mosaic of madness
blending
scars and flaws
into the beauty
of a shared life.

John G. Lawless
©3/10/2019
Categories: reassembled, life, love,
Form: Free verse

Tsunami

Blazing hot sweats rolled down my back,
A cloudless sky was at reach from my palm’s view,
My eyes centered on the sun as it stood above my head.
Summer’s end sneaked around the corner,
But its endless heat
Fooled me to think it would never cease.
 
Milky sand grains covered my toes,
Beach balls rolled back n’ forth,
Children’s castle were made and later destroyed,
Clear waters waved in my thoughts.
It was suppose to be a beautiful day
And until that moment, indeed it was.
 
The moment the earth shook, 
Loud voices suddenly began to rise
And Footsteps tumbled the ground,
I looked around
Right, left, up, down,
Where had the commotion come from?
 
The sun blinded me from the truth,
When the photons in my eyes reassembled the image,
A shock traveled to my heart
Making it pump furiously in my chest.
 
A desert ahead of me laid,
Content faces had ran from my presence,
The air dragged my body forward,
The ocean rapidly seemed to disappear.
I looked upon the never ending horizon
And its line had ascended greatly.
 
In that moment,
I refused to run like all the others,
I refused to avoid its magnificent moves.
The winds pushed me backwards with a tremendous force,
Sprinkles of icy water splashed against my skin,
A great calamity I was bound to face.
 
Shadows covered the surface of my dread,
An enormous wall of wetness surrounded me.
And with a blink, I was no longer visible to the eyes of men,
Not even God could spot me from the heavens above.
 
I gasped for air in the salty waters of the ocean,
But there was none to be found,
And with that last thought in mind
I drowned myself in its eternal beauty.
Categories: reassembled, beach, death, environment, grief,
Form: Free verse

Broken Mirror

A broken mirror
A gustily reflection of misfortunes
I don’t recognise myself anymore
An honest look at my dishonesty
Yes, I’m a liar
The image distorted with each retreating step of shame
I take, and I move ten steps backwards in life
The falling pieces like sharp knifes
Pierce the ground with screaming cries
No!!!
Did I just dig my own grave?
The earth bleeds (from me)
Soaking the ground with broken promises
I try to flee the scene
Hoping never to be seen 
To hide from my guilty conscience
Hoping not to be convicted for seven years
By poetic justice
And the crush of his firm finger
He had pointed straight at me
The lie exposed
Blood on my hands,
My fist broke the mirror
My lack of character,
A life of no restraint
Of anger and hate
My over indulgences and cutting corners
All brought to bare
The broken mirror echoes my scattered, dying soul
It intrigues me like a thousand pieces of a puzzle, 
Challenging me to put my life back together
You’re such a liar, I dare you!

If I’m honest, I know only I can,
But my inner voice is unrelenting
No you won’t you liar!
I put my neck on the block
A voluntary fratricide 
To be rid of this inner, rotten core
A mind like Pandora’s box
They say garbage in garbage grows!
The contents need to be forgotten
The combination unknown 
Self-destruction mode on do-not-unlock
I accept I can never run away from my own thoughts
This outer shell content with my decision
For seven years it exhausted me
It haunted me,
Assimilated anew in the fields of second chances
Reassembled from pieces of glass and blood
I return to me a complete reflection
Categories: reassembled, dark, pain,
Form: Free verse


Chaos Mind

Centuries of lies, a hollow myth
Perpetuated by charlatans with great ceremony
The Greatest Show, the living bread
The crowd sustained and animated by necromancy
The will is fused, the body dismembered and reassembled
Eager dehumanization, they tread the path
An ancient instinct, hereditary chains
Lift the chalice, a cannibal rite
Commit the body to the fires
They burn all sin to purest white
Like bones they glisten in the sun

The heart is woman, a harlot's course
Chaos bound to ritual law
A book to strangle, the human vine
Withered fruit, none shall eat
A brittle parody of True God's design
The Word of sufferance, spread like plague
Prostrated before your False God
An empty gesture before his impassive gaze
Power channels, below the surface
Christian mind cannot detect
Stabbing empty, fever pitch
Turn the blade, release is now.
Categories: reassembled, corruption, dark, death, evil,
Form: Free verse

The Last Viking

The Last Viking
There had been a war in my part of the world, peace there is never one,
people fight wars in other parts of the world more brutal than ever before.
The first winter of peace was the coldest anyone old could remember and
ducks feet froze on the ice they could not move and became prey to rats
and human scum who threw stones at the ducks satisfying a biblical instinct.
A tree in the park had fallen and a skeleton was discovered it was to be
excavated the next day, but it disappeared I think it had reassembled itself
broken into a dress shop and covered his bones with the skin of dead people.
A long very thin man had been observed outside a lady`s lingerie shop late
one evening, masturbating, what else to do after being dead under a tree for
five hundred years.
At a museum in the Isle of Man, I saw the thumb of a Viking in a glass cage
within a glass cage surrounded  by precious objects ladies wore at the time
It was pathetic there he was fighting and living not knowing his thumb would
live forever in a tiny glass cage
Categories: reassembled, art, encouraging,
Form: Blank verse

Premium Member The Scrambling of Humpty-Dumpty

Humpty-Dumpty sat on the wall and gambled,

   That if he fell his yolk would not be scrambled.

      Yet when he fell,

         He cracked his shell.

            Alas, no way he could be reassembled!
Categories: reassembled, humorous,
Form: Limerick

Goodnight, Sir Thomas

Dear Sir Thomas:

Angels 
never fly 
too far away.
Cherubs
are 
pious messengers 
cloaked in 
ribbed-serpentine
streamers;
bathing 
themselves
in a bemused 
shower
of rainbow-lit
banderoles.

Stifled 
in an unseen
internal silence -
a clandestine court 
of guardians;
our private angels,
unassumingly,
fold their 
winged extremities
and gloriously 
chant messianic
chorales without an 
operatic note
perceived.

No gestures.
Nothing mumbled.
The chosen few...
we know better.
 
Dear Sir Thomas:

Weren't we
uproarious then?
Biting our lips
and neurotically 
watching re-runs 
of Laugh-In;
it reassembled
our gamed hurt.
It provided us 
with focus,
but now - I'm
acting as a 
disguised charlatan,
borrowing 
strength
from the cinders 
of a simple
nature like yours
(to camoflauge )
my own 
internal 
disfiguration.

As for the
brokenhearted -
they silently 
weep. 

Dear Sir Thomas:

Our heads are
turned towards
your smiling face.
Remind us not
about an 
unspoken unwanting
or a silent forgetting -
yet submerge us in 
the rememberance of
continued happiness.
The grins you
spread upon our brows -
were instantaneous
and infectious.

Your wonder.
Your magic -
irrigates our
veins like a
remembered
shuffle 
of a
whispered
solitaire for
two.
Happiness -
you reminded us 
not to forget about -
the enjoyable 
outcome of an
upturned frown.
For it is our time -
it is 
our moment...
to grasp 
a minute 
in our hands,
within a second, 
and
ponder it's memory
for an eternity.

We all trip 
upon stupidity.
We all shoot
and
stumble upon 
the benign.

Dear Sir Thomas:

An anonymous
angel
spilled my soul
into tomorrow's 
chalice 
drowning me 
in your 
splendid
miraculous dreams.
For that 
special invitation -
I wipe away my 
prayer-filled tears
and thank you -
as you now romp 
within an angelic entourage
of embraced 
enchantment.


Goodnight, Sir Thomas.



In memory of a dear poet and friend - Thomas Bell
© John Heck  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: reassembled, dedication, friendship, life, love
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Backscattering

She gazed at the looking glass, but the mirror refused to grant her a preview of what might happen, a clear picture of where she had been and if she existed at all, the spectre of the moment seemed to be disguised from inspection. Coming to terms with having absorbed and condensed too many of society’s norms and demands had seemingly been her duty and the prism of requests on her image of beauty had failed her inner Self. She drooled onto the spitting image of nothingness and the slobber ran down to the frame that upheld phlegm and contempt before it trickled down onto the baseless floor founded on hardcore delusion. Diet pills and dark shades had not relieved her from a succession of errors of reason and emotion and when she had blindfolded herself, the blinkers tore deep into her misrepresentation of surrender and cosmetic denial.

scanned in revulsion

vacant echoes burst the sight –

shards of glass splintered

So many fragments pierced into her eyes, that dry tears covered the pulverized viewing and heart-blood sprayed all over her soul. A point of no return, because if she failed to stem the flow and bandage the wounds, gangrene would set it soon and salving the lacerations would only speed up infection and purulent grime. The wall in front of her blurred out of proportion and there was nothing she could do about it other than retrieving bristles and paint from the storeroom and gloss over the shiny remnants of disrepair. And therefore, she entered into a journey of the unknown, drew rose petals and thorns onto broken canvas. Before she knew it, she decoupaged disintegration and fractures, glued a mosaic of imagination to mirror what should have been there in the first place. Sweat dripped from her forehead and smudged aquarelle shades which reassembled self-worth and confronted demons and abuse. An inner voice shouted, ‘all you need is a mantra to caption the artwork which you truly are.’ That is when she wrote her first poem and became free of doubts, oppression and cynical critique.

blame discredit reproach

failed to appease me in vain –

reflections can change


26th March 2021
Categories: reassembled, anti bullying,
Form: Haibun

Ancient Time Collapse

Ancient Time Collapse 

Ancient time collapsed on mirrored distances
Taking history, its ripples, down in the sand
Lost in the reflected wide eyes of children looking up
They will never know what time it is

Archeologists use the suns surveillance guidance system 

Sextants by sea employed, sojourning to history
Compass by land, to point the way more solidly 
Tools help them seek the depths to find their level
To shed light on missing times and parts gone dark

Sun fills the void once opened on the past
Apparently there is not enough light in the sky
Clearly there is not enough sight in the universe
To find what they are looking for

Exposing oceans of rocks and sand 
Not much more

Mysteries undertaken in the making of the dig
Scientists unearth, burn, work, bake under sun
Nothing found underground can live forever buried
Mixed together, former human parts with sand, comingling there
Winds grind and blow the bones around about the rocks
Exposed on surface, air turns remnants to powder, so everything is fine

Mirrored in the distances are facts and fiction
Hollow words that fell through cracks 
Collapsed with long gone columns
Not so solid at this hour

What stories history could tell us if we reassembled ancient artifacts
Separated them, along with sand and stone and bones 
Still on the most wanted list of history 
Forgotten and unknown
Categories: reassembled, adventure, age, change, history,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Stardust Memories

You and I are stardust 
unseen specks 
hurled from unknown supernovas
exploding in deep space
an eternity away, ago
carried away on galactic winds 
cosmic dandelions
scattered through limitless night  
a universe apart
random  
yet converging
over millions, billions, of years
all the galaxies, stars, gods
along the way 
somehow indifferent to our passage    
or conspiring to let us move on  

an endless drift
until
we were pulled by gravitation 
onto a tiny young planet
a speck, like us, in space 
one in untold trillions

atoms, particles, dust
now alighted  
assembled
scrambled
reassembled 
randomly
patiently
through eons
into 

you
me

and a universe shrunk 
to that one spot on this earth
where our paths crossed 

a one-in-an-infinity chance
destiny over impossibility
Categories: reassembled, destiny, i love you,
Form: Free verse

Untitled

An object 
Forms the marks on my skin
They are permanently engraved
They are part of who I am

Artistic lines
Form my entire shoulder blade
Artistic, natural, and exotic
My ancestor's connected roots reassembled as something symbolic

A hummingbird
Forms a single warrior in the Aztec parade
My blood that runs through my veins now enhances color to the hummingbird's brain

A flower
Forms conflict between beauty and mass destruction
The flower wars was what my ancestors called it
They fought for what they thought was right
Believing in their gods and believing in their king with all their might

An object
To whomever else that sees it
To me
A rare and unique piece of history through a line of blood's memories
Categories: reassembled, animal, death, memory, spiritual,
Form:

Mission Santa Barbara

Mission's bold facade resembled
Latin temple quakes have trembled.
Fine facade was reassembled.
Use new priests grant.
Native singers great assembled.
Praise songs they chant.
Categories: reassembled, religious,
Form: Rhyme
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