Best Reinvents Poems
THE POET
Reinvents the world all clean and neat
Passing it on from village to village on electric feet
Armed with pen, peanut butter and a few sheets
He listens for sounds others don’t hear
Turning self inside out backwards in the mirror
Shouting out the roof of his room hot tears
The poet, faithful to his muse soul alert
Floats o’er mountains, forests through dust of plain and desert
Hatching rhyme from paradise to Mother Earth
One of the world’s most solitary really alive in mind alone
Like a word-archaeologist digging for a bone
He scoffs at social zenith calls fancy his true home
System of events so dramatic it reinvents.
My wisdom over lends a static in a sense.
I give them my hands in return for amends,
Even though it is them who never understands.
Shackled and chained, felt internal pain.
Condemned to complain, alone I remain.
I forget my name, hide my face in shame.
Aiming for the fame, my souls put in vain.
Isolated feelings, as high as the ceiling,
Dealing with each one as time keeps on ticking.
I’m sealing the past, and starting a new beginning.
This living I’m seeing, no one should be given.
Sometimes I wonder, when I hear the thunder,
Is GOD asunder, because demons are under,
Waiting in numbers, in patience, in slumber,
At the end of a tunnel, throughout winter and summer.
I guess it could be worse, I could be in a hearse,
If I put my greed first, I lay deep in a curse.
Since my birth I was destined to disburse,
For what its worth, I’m willing to make it work.
Silently white snow falls
Covering the ground
in a pristine blanket
Purest white, luminous
in the night
Muffling the silence of the night
----------this way, my world
reinvents the fragrance of a song.
Sponsor; John Lawless
Jim-I-Nator,
chase creator,
imitates a song,
recreates a major,
sail's you to saviors,
reinvents the round,
reelects the tasers,
summons it in a bong...
Bites it right out
just like the Chong.
Waits in a mile-
just for the hump,
butts heads with the viral-
just like the slums,
does a downward spiral like a swivel,
dials 911 to spy on individuals,
random as hail in July,
hits like nails-
out on the lake in the sky-
just where I had wanted to die.
Like a Laker in a coat,
like a disastrous danger running wild and remote-
just like Ebeneezer Scrooge with a check book and the holy ghost,
just like Jesus on an electric motorcycle,
flying with angels-
jimin' with a bagel,
rotating at an angle,
fly's in the sky like a needle near the eye!
Random as hail in July!
Eats prunes,
and then pray's not to die!
Greets his shrooms with venom,
beats his moods with a pendulum,
hears through stethoscopes when he's endin' the run,
goes to the gym to have a little fun!
Waits for the time to stand still,
eats all the cops in between him and his pillz!
Says **** jail!
My ******** is a nail!
**** being out on bail!
I'll still be here until the killer is unveiled!
think of bread if you come
and no false hopes
and no bad humor
and no long silences
and no sorrow
I would like reinvents itself
after a few glasses of wine
god muscles up
raw emotions bristle
neurons synapse and spark
she hesitates
learning to fly
the hair stands up
on the back of my
neck I shiver
remember to breath
learning to fly
her statue is as hard
as marble but she’s
as soft as vulerability
and so a woman
she’s learning to fly
with every day she
reinvents her future
she knows what she wants
she doesn’t hesitate
she’s learning to fly
I watched a lone frill -
flitter 'neath a crescent moon.
A chasse quite brief;
a waltz concluding too soon.
Dusk's nocturnal breath
whirls a foliferous heart.
A ron de jame leap
reinvents classical art.
The plume flits and floats
beyond a stilled rivulet -
one rebel osprey
escaping Swan Lake's ballet.
Tchaikovsky's cygni
are enchanted and enrapt;
as a chaste quill sleeps
'pon the brim of vesper's cap.
God's born
Earth Genesis were creationists right and darwin wrong
As our conscience wakes , sound science proves evolution is fate
Man tames nature empowers man reinvents nature
Sound science transcends mortal man into godly creator
Life is science , an infinite mathematical equation
Many past lives are demonstrations
When the ancients learned wisdom , disigned cultural paradigms
Mortality once an unsolved riddle , science its divine solution
Life's true meaning is disguised by mental pollution
Why is life possible ? ITs mystery origin is supernatural science
Which transcends understanding and reliance
Ancient wisdom proves hatred makes life worthless
Yet love and kindness proves life's purpose
In a secret corner of the mind, where silence dances with shadows,
I lose myself in the simplicity of a moment that asks for nothing, just to be,
letting dreams unravel like autumn leaves in a gentle breeze,
without fear of absence, without the desire to arrive anywhere,
for in the absence of desire, a vast field of freedom is born,
where thoughts find rest in the peace of a diamond morning,
and love, like a river whispering its story among the stones of time,
intertwines with the simple, austere soul, yet full of a nameless richness.
Under the wide sky of abandonment, I rise without wings,
seeking not an end, but a beginning that reinvents itself endlessly,
listening as silence finds its echo in the song of invisible birds,
in a world where the compass points only to the heart of the eternal now,
and where love weaves its tapestry from the unseen threads of eternity.
How does love die, you ask me?
Under a rain of indifference, without passion, without responsibility,
Without the humor to brighten your day, without the sensuality to ignite your night.
Leaf by leaf, petal by petal, it withers, and it's too late, too late to cry.
"We treasure each other like an old, rare wine," you tell me,
But in the silence between us, words shatter, leaving us mute,
At a silent table, under the starry sky, where only the stars still whisper stories.
Our hands should meet, should seek each other, but sometimes they get lost.
"Respect," you say, "is an absolute necessity, a beacon in life's darkness,"
We learn together to face every hardship, yet somehow, words are lost,
We argue but forget to truly speak, to listen,
Our blessings are many, but sometimes we lose them among the shadows.
"Never go to bed angry with the one you love," I tell myself,
But sometimes silence becomes a wall, and morning finds us just as distant,
Misunderstood, perhaps, but not necessarily unhappy, just lost,
In a labyrinth of feelings, where love should be the compass.
Be proud of the one you vowed to love forever,
Let no one come between you, make life an adventure,
Say "I love you" at least three times a day, you remind me,
But do words still carry weight when silence swallows them?
Thus, in the flow of my thoughts, I imagine love as a sea,
We embark on this endless journey, with waves and storms,
But perhaps, if we learn to navigate together, to listen to the wind,
We will discover that love doesn't die, it just transforms, reinvents itself.
Poetry's a tough business, you know
Each new poem reinvents the wheel
Staring at a blank page takes nerves of steel
'Rest on your laurels?' -- You'll have nothing to show
I've heard that writing poems is an escape
But why flee something easy to do
Like nuclear physics or perfecting Kung Fu
Let the scoffers try to get into 'poetry shape'
As for me, I'm off for a round of pre-poetry drills
~ So my pen is primed to deliver thrills and chills!
Restless, pacing around the my room
The feeling is misunderstood
The laughter is overacted
This need has to be fulfilled
The acne for quietness
Is a necessity for luxury
The storm reinvents itself
Is somebody reaching out
Calmness, restoration of the imbalanced
The emotions are flowing in
The humanity is praised
This need has to be fulfilled
Chapter 1: The End of the Eastern Gilded Age
'Twas thrice yon 'ere time clichés galore, albeit, one two many times, that fairy tale's opening wouldst hitherto a harp. History, the effects of narratives indulgences of a period, like an opening performance as a harp is being tuned then it's time to play expressively to narratives who hear a fiddle. History emerges to a gridlock, then it lies and waits for its prey tomorrow, to give its due. It forces off and reloads it with narratives for in this approach all is done kosherly being formal and beliefs necessitate reassurance. The earth learns that history never replicates itself, just the hereafter and those that are uncovered. Some inequalities are constant and relatively taxing to the accountants who are toiling the timepiece, sort of speak, it is fate that reprises since narratives are an irritant bent on annihilation ergo it reinvents itself a new chapter hoping that the old will catch up and take part but the past feels it lacks motivation, hence, it too reinvents itself, a better way, an effective outlook, they repeatedly say that the results are quite promising, with that on the table, why change history.
Young Crown Prince Imperial, Alexei, Heir Apparent to the Imperial throne of Russia, has been diagnosed as a hemophiliac, ...
*The opener of My Short Story: A Century Turns: Soviet Union's Life Expectancy
Did you dodge the bullet,
but not its intent
Is the ocean now calm,
as the storm reinvents
Have feelings rehardened,
with blood on the stone
Back to back with yourself,
—all escape you’ve disowned
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)
I’m driving through a small town
and a sunset.
The garage store has all I need,
Gas, 2 sticks of beef jerky for the dog,
some gum.
Outside, the evening is settling,
a sky-paint sinks within its canvas;
soon there will be just ghosts in a pond of light.
As I reach the car, the sky flares one last time,
a shimmer of burnt orange,
the streets rock gently under front porches.
I have stood here
gazing at all this suddenness before.
Every small town reinvents its dream
within a twilit history.
A moment returns, drives past yet again.
© 16 days ago