Best Reiterated Poems
He was small and portly but their leader
didn't want anyone in the club being a cheater
with everyones full attention while seated
he reiterated his drastic thoughts and feelings,
Explaining to his buddies to steer clear
of the feminine gender some held dear
saying they were just a pain in the neck
so just to ignore them he told them was best,
The meeting was adjourned and Spanky closed the door
straightening his "Women Haters Club" sign once more
with Alfalfa feeling confident he wouldn't cave in
till Darla started flirting with him once again….
5-16-17
Categories:
reiterated, humor, nostalgia,
Form:
Light Verse
If you could have any pet I said.
“A piranha!” she yelled. Then she laughed.
She is seven years, eight months and two days.
“A piranha!” I reiterated.
I had never had this answer before.
I had to look up piranha to see how to spell it.
And I have asked hundreds of children this question
in twenty- eight years. Maybe thousands.
She had the best smile on her face.
She was the happiest I have ever seen her.
She could not stop smiling.
It was the last question I asked her, because it was perfect.
Categories:
reiterated, children,
Form:
Light Verse
Répéter Depuis le Début
The Pink Studio, by Henri Matisse, 1911.
Perception fuses like melted rose quartz,
fuses on the lens of Matisse’s puzzled eyes
like the naiveté of childhood returned to age.
Melted images rose in two dimensions,
rose in repetition, mothering the pieces.
Quartz, genteel rosé, shown in transcendence,
fuses on the lens of Matisse’s puzzled eyes
on naysayers & followers, his morphosis reigns.
The stimulus silent, light’s effect returned, burned
lens now open to the madness of pattern, pieces
of left brain obliterated; right reinforced; art,
Matisse’s obsession oozed from his pores
puzzled synapses explored and explored,
eyes dry as a bone, from sleepless nights, sigh.
Like the naiveté of childhood returned to age,
the Madonna appears, or the muse Aphrodite reborn,
naiveté sexless tasted clean, pure, purged in white.
Of the patterns outside, he’d reproduce those within
childhood wide-eyed he approached & there he
returned again & again paying homage to the core,
to reiterate images in pieces of two dimensions
age left the left brain obliterated – reinforced the right.
Melted images rose in two dimensions.
Images, giving meaning to negative space,
rose ground beneath the pestle of repetition
in loops, sockets, knobs, holes, tabs, slots & keys
two halves male-female, left-right, up-down
dimensions all an idiocracy depicted his fright,
rose in repetition, mothering pieces,
in loops, sockets, knobs, holes, tabs, slots & keys
repetition reiterated, quartz ground beneath the pestle
mothering the pieces of two dimensions,
pieces of puzzles conjoining parts triangularly staged.
Quartz, genteel rosé, shown in transcendence.
Genteel, childlike, Matisse adored illumination, art
rose with repetition, a mothering of the pieces,
shown in the dance, in stance, in transfigured delight,
in loops, sockets, knobs, holes, tabs, slots & keys,
transcendence an illusion, of optics, of light.
First Published in Ekphrastic: writing and art on art and writing 2016
Categories:
reiterated, art, marriage,
Form:
Free verse
“POETIC JUSTICE” (VIRTUE OVER VICE)
Virtue over vice—who will pay the price
Ironic twists of fate are flawed if virtue does not equal reward
Logic needs to triumph—to beat and defeat
The tragedy of treachery that strives to cheat and repeat
Try to see outside myself and understand the eyes
To analyze, theorize, recognize and polarize
Excuse all the highs that terrorize
Unacknowledged trauma’s are like wounds that never heal
Never feel—on a constant wheel—a terrible price to pay for sin
Until at last the outside matches the justice
History written on the body—a canvas of poetry
In the end, reality, the price to pay would be too great
Too much at stake
Comfort zones obliterated, confusion reiterated
What then… the end?
Life seems slow to reach conclusion
To wait, turn back, to stop or go
To fly or dive when there is no restraint or self control
Deceit makes it hard to separate the self
Seeking truth above the easy way out
To shout, express doubt, to dropout--- burnout
Justice is tested through another’s eyes
Disguising their own lies as they spy and deny
The poetry of playing the same game
Camouflaged by another name—to shame blame and disclaim
Does virtue win the day?
Or vice have its say and inevitably stay
Does it triumph and receive reward?
Or is logic a masquerading fraud
The poetry in justice must ultimately distrust and adjust this
Lift the darkness
Make it painless, nameless and stainless
The punishment… its sword
Categories:
reiterated, metaphor, poetry,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Am I ok to be dull,
Is it fine to be without
YOU AND STILL SHINE.?
Will I be a joyful
memory in your mind.
I asked:
TRUE LOVE SAYS IT'S
okay to be happy
apart from me.
Never replace my
joyous gift with grief.
In the spaces or gaps.
Your light should
fill- in, removing,sadness,
with a "well lived life".
He expressed:
Be happy ,with me-
or apart from me;
Love wouldn't have it
ANY-OTHER WAY.
He reiterated:
What's Understood;
needs no explanation
He said:
What kind of man would I be,
IF I REJOICED IN YOUR
MISSING ME.
KNOWING,that
I may never return.
He spoke again:
You have taught me that happiness
and all of it's glory will never die.
And sadness lingers on for ever.
Said I:
Away from you by
death or by distance.
Will still leave me responsible
for your smile.
From the brightness of your smile;
Everyone will be aware, that it be I
who put it there-
Even after years have passed
You with your new love,
Alas !
It would be me that left you
"Glowing"
He reported:
All the records will be
set straight and show,
That I was the man
"who brought out the best in you-
made joy in the depths of you".
He chanted:
I then realized my joy could never
subcomb to sadness again;
Neither to death- nor poverty -
not time- nor distance.
So I will rejoice when you come,
I'll live off the memories
your endless joy has brung.
So until you come again,
I will smile and illuminate
the days so brightly.
So bright... that even the next man
will praise your ways
and ask me to share the secret of your magic
I shall live in memories of happy days;
In the cheerful thoughts of men.
Final # episode of love
Categories:
reiterated, beautiful, happy, i love
Form:
Ballad
If you were a tree,
or even a revolving cultural tree of history,
SunGod would gift-forward
fore-give
ProGenerate your positive/negative perennial waves of energy,
nutrition, healthy midway
between fear of freezing to death
and angry memories of wilting from thirst.
If we were EarthTribe's BiCameral Foresting Trees
we would celebrate together
SunGod TaoZen of YangSpacious Medicinal 4D-(0)-soul,
emerging WinWin EcoTherapeutic Peer2Peer PeaceWarrior
descending from PolyCultural Elder Communion Circles
worshiping GoddessGaia Earth of Queen Shabbat Yintegral
MeditationTime
Sun/Heaven penetrating receptive
warm wet Earth/Soil
together feeding poly-empathic co-gravitational experience
evolving rich health moisturized
wealthy compost
within our recycling forest of thirsty roots
and wilting crowns.
When I remember back through shared tree roots,
I recall before God could ever possibly become languaged as a Noun,
god must have been effectively nutritious nondual co-arising Nature's action,
growing polycultural differentiation
and balancing panentheistic freedoms
within Time's dialectical infrastructure of
developmental seasons
Light's empowering natural/spiritual balance,
bicamerally decomposed, reviewed, reflected, reiterated
sensexual experience
of healthy trusted
and pathological distrusted
renouned language meditation songs
and reinvested nonverbal medication dances.
Allah was Earth's medicinal panentheistic healthy verb
before becoming LeftBrain's monotheistic meditation
wealthy reNoun.
To be fully human life's historic potential
is to become humane panentheistic EarthStory
revolving fully sacred-natural life's potential integrity
is to divine wealth trust our MeWe dipolar
Tree Crown/RootSystem co-arising
bicamerally surprising
EarthTribe selves.
Categories:
reiterated, destiny, earth, god, heaven,
Form:
Political Verse
The whhhhiind wound it’s wicked way through the snarl of broken skeleton like branches. In what was left of the dredges of dusky light it tore past the ancient rotting knot holes protruding from the bristling bark of Grandfather Oaks, creating a whistling, haunting sound that sent shivers up and down her spine. Old dead leaves lifting in sudden bursts of whirlwinds from the darkening forest carpet of pepper brush and poison oak rustled and rushed past touching her face as if trying to direct her attention to the dark void of the forest into which those long dead leaves disappeared.
She stopped. She must keep going but fear was paralyzing her. A quote from JRR Tolkien buzzed in and out of her frightened mind…..“Still round the corner there may wait .. a new road or a secret gate…” It reiterated itself over and over in her mind. ….. Sounds. There were sounds beside ..and inside the wind.. It was more than creaking branches.. more than rustling leaves and whistling wind tunneling through the mazes of old dead moss covered bony trees. It was more felt than heard but …it was heard …a practically palpable sound… but elusive. It … the sound… created itself when she walked… it came from above and behind her. It stopped when she stopped….except for …except for …the breathing.
She could feel it ..breathing. She thought to turn her collar up and cover her neck. Oh so scared ! Frozen scared! So alone! How do I get out of here!! It’s so cold! And then… she practically fainted as ..she …she felt it! The unmistakable Ssslow hot ..breath ..rasping ..on the back of her neck! …
DAM IT ALL SUSAN !! WOULD YOU WAKE TA HECK UP AND GET OUTA BED! YOU’RE GONNA BE LATE FOR YOUR CAMPING TRIP!!!
Categories:
reiterated, adventure, fantasy, old, old,
Form:
Narrative
Afar and beyond the ravines and glens
Two glares have stared to reach
I have jumped, sprung, and climbed
Fluttering only an illusion
I raced the fawns, squealed
With the bats, and even swam with fish
I slithered among the grass, a krait
I supposed I’d be and even tried to hiss
I hung myself among the trees,
A feathery baboon I made
I buzzed and hummed in the breeze,
A million bees arranged
I endeavored and reiterated
To be and not become
I now bury my head in the sand
And laud the things I have done
"To acknowledge the problem is to be half way through the resolution."-M.R
Categories:
reiterated, allegory, animals, inspirational, life,
Form:
Free verse
Judas Iscariot would later feel great pity.
The sad state Jesus was in he was able to see.
The thirty pieces of silver received as a fee,
would be thrown in the temple, considered “blood money‘.
This made it illegal to hold in the treasury.
Judas would then hang himself from a branch on a tree.
The money would be used to purchase a potter’s field.
All this was as the prophet Jeremiah revealed.
.
Governor Pontius Pilate would later see Jesus.
This Roman would hear all the charges from Caiaphas.
“Are you really King of the Jews?” was Pilate’s question.
“It’s as you say” Jesus said in reciprocation.
All further questioning resulted in reticence.
Pilate would wonder why Jesus maintained his silence.
The Roman governor would view this as a strange thing.
Pilate said, “I can’t sentence him. He has done nothing!”
A normal custom done during the Passover Feast,
would be a choice of two prisoners to be released.
Among one of the selections that would be Jesus,
there was a convicted murderer named Barabbas.
Pilate asked the crowd which one they were willing to take.
Barabbas was the overwhelming choice they would make.
After Jesus was flogged, Pilate would say to the crowd:
“What shall I do with Jesus?” He would ask them quite loud.
When asked this question, nearly all of the crowd replied:
“You should take Jesus away, and have him crucified”
To spare the life of Jesus is what Pilate had tried.
However, they all reiterated what they cried.
“Crucify him” was what the people shouted to say.
A time later, Roman soldiers took Jesus away.
Categories:
reiterated, religion, jesus,
Form:
Rhyme
They surrendered to Virtue all they had, tears
They gained from society( 'twas all they yearned for) tranquility
They sang songs so serene:-
"Oh, blessed is the shunner of all forms of evil!"
And perched on tower-tops
While the city went out and commenced
Jumping walls topped by sharp-edged-jagged pieces of china and glass
Door-breaking and stuttering rifles.
In eloquent gestures and mazy motions,
They recited poems pregnant with emotions:-
"It took yesterday's madmen to
Build a better today
One cannot make a fundamental change
Without a certain degree of madness!"
While corrupt preachers, politicians, policy-makers
Reiterated their usual rhetoric.
The rhytms and rhymes of political ruthlessness
They painted pictures so loud:
Black guns circled and crossed in red.
They stuck the paintings on hospital walls,
Schools, churches, playgrounds and market stalls.
Patients, nurses and prechers
Vendors, doctors and teachers
Were awe-struck as the questioned, "Who are they?"
I whispered, "Youths, to Vice and to Crime Unknown."
Their soles maimed sinuously the city tarmac
Their voices pierced the polluted atmosphere
Their banner sang volumes:-
"USE COMMON SENSE NOT CRIMINAL SENSE!"
While the peace saboteurs used violence as a tool
To keep the elite few
In top rule
Shunning majority rule
And treating the majority as one fool.
Thus, at Africa Unity Square
The march on Harare ended sincere.
Huge was their number, and their agenda clear
One of them whistled a tune
It lasted till noon.
Then I heard a whispering pulse
In my ear
A whispering pulse
Of evil eroded clear,
"Youths, to Vice and to Crime Unknown."
Categories:
reiterated, peace, city,
Form:
Blank verse
We, my wife and I, were living
With our son in an Indian Metropolis.
It was sometime before
I took up my assignment in Africa.
I was just vegetating,
When I came across an ad—for holiday-homes.
Prospective customers were
Invited to discuss their holiday-plans.
And there was free lunch!
Why not explore?
We went, my wife and I.
It was a conference hall in a posh hotel,
With lots of tables around.
There was a buzz:
The company representatives were discussing plans
With gullible customers.
We were shown a table
At which was seated a smart young man,
Sporting a tie, who greeted us—
With a beaming smile and a booming voice.
He explained the various plans quickly
And waited for our favourable response.
I had a word with my wife,
Took a deep breath and said:
We must consult our son!
The young man’s face went red.
He responded angrily in an offensive tone:
“You mean to say you can’t take
A simple decision yourself—at this age?
You need to consult people, eh?
How strange!”
I reiterated my stand, though.
Then the young man said derisively:
“Okay, have your lunch and go!”
Now we could see the ad
as a kind of rat-trap,
With the lunch as the bait.
Lunch?
We had no go.
It was too late to go back home for lunch.
We weren’t prepared to eat out either,
Having left our VISA cards safely at home!
We went in to lunch.
The ambience, in our sullen mood,
Looked sepulchral.
And the lunch tasted of rat poison!
***
Categories:
reiterated, satire,
Form:
Free verse
My hair is mostly white with streaks of black here and there
My white hair marks me as “aged” --- is that fair?
I don’t think or feel old (to which my body keeps disagreeing)
Just let me be who and what I am without age interfering
My opinions derive from education and experience
Each and all have been my deliverance:
Reading, listening, arguing, questioning,
Curiosity, studying, rejecting and accepting.
At 78 my brain functions minus dementia or senility
And if truth be told Men don’t have a monopoly
On Life’s options due to their relentlessly reiterated virility
Womanhood has Booked her place throughout the Ages
Profoundly and sometimes better than Manhood’s Pages
(Yet I’m thankful for Men being close-by anyway!
They’re the music, poetry, and humor in Life’s abundant Plays
So Diverse, yet hoarded and cherished as Life’s Bouquets).
All this irrelevant musing won’t get me anywhere
Let’s not digress but readdress the dilemma of my white hair
A naked cranium would be icy in cold winter weather
And if it won’t grow back going bald might not be vey clever
There is always dyeing, but only another temporary solution
Dye fades and white hair will reappear of its own volition
Yet I love a rich auburn, and the right blonde shade can flatter
Black is harsh, and Browns won’t suit so do not matter
Purples, greens, pinks or rainbow are not my cup of tea
Hair coloring options or choices I cannot dictate
Or expect others to like or dislike the same as me.
Dyeing my hair will habitually face budget restrictions
A loathed state of affairs that is an odious situation
Being poor demands tribute to that which is essential
Like mortgage, utilities, eating daily (oh, so beneficial!)
Thinking, looking back and reviewing bygone years
I recall highs, lows, regrets, laughter and shed tears
I’ve earned the right to show off this head of white hair
Without dyeing, lamenting, defending or worrying if it is fair.
Perhaps it is time at last to say “Thanks” for the generous gift
I was given to walk Life’s unique (at times) inhospitable Course
Having had my share of rewards, recognition, grief and remorse
I now salute my 78 years with Good Show! Hip, Hip! Here! Here!
Glad to Be and now at ease wearing that mantle of White Hair
That serves as my symbol to Endure, Survive and Persevere.
Categories:
reiterated, age, humor, image,
Form:
Rhyme
Can you truly love a rock,
you've never directly seen or touched,
or some other relatively inanimate object,
like a steel wall,
or ego-centrism?
If so, then how is your "love"
different from a whimsical "appreciate you"?
If not, then what is different between your "love"
and your "co-passions"?
Compassion,
passion with and toward,
but not passionate energy returned from Other
necessarily,
or, Yes! Necessarily!?
How do you know your love is also co-passion,
reiterated and returned,
however un-equivalently expressed it may be?
Is this not a matter of positive faith,
of unconditional co-invested hope?
That boundary-free time
between Other's stimulus
and your response,
before and after,
subjective anticipating felt objectives,
identity refined through co-relationship,
in an environ-mental healthy cause that is,
by effective default,
setting aside mutual immunity barriers,
to more courageously and opportunistically co-habitate,
curiously co-integrate,
co-passioning environ-mental love
Rather than fear, anger, anxiety, apathy,
all dissonance settings of negatively felt default,
oppressive to self,
suppressive of Other's natural integrity
Tipping pointed barometer
of active curiosity
toward positive values of win/win strategic opportunity
Edging out double-binding
mind/body
spirit/nature
ego/eco
Self/Other disvalues
of two passively negative non-risk takers,
hoarding against a co-passionate future
more contentedly resilient
than a contentious ally
of death-defying
Me v We
Yang v Yin
+PolyNomial v -(-PolyPathic) hopeless despair,
unpaired negativity.
Categories:
reiterated, anger, destiny, fear, love,
Form:
Parallelismus Membrorum
I miss you
there, I said the truth I compel myself to hide
I miss you
there, I said it loud enough for you to hear
Can you feel it then, my breath reaching your ears
or have you brushed it off as only a breeze
March...I've been made mute, shed not a tear
but I'm forced once again
to share my heart with you though I know you won't dare
dare believe me when I say the day passed again
A question I beg of you absent answer
why is this the only time I happily regret, I'm regrettingly
regrettingly happy I know you
I know what you may think
this isn't something I've conjured up, a Sorcerer
to make myself believe you're a damsel in distress, single
and I the misfit to the rescue
to cover up the fact I'm alone but I'm alone without you again
alone without you again
How long must I suffer this
the fact and the fate that the moment I loved you most
you disappear, shatter
transforming into sharpened tools of torture
sticking into me while I perpetually scream
a whirlwind of emotions
I LOVE YOU! I HATE YOU!
BE GONE FROM ME! COME BACK TO ME!
And yet here we are again, the 7th year
you've found someone to spend the rest of your life with
someone else in your vicinity
someone else who's talons have dug deeper
than mine have ever gone
I've come to terms with that
accepted it, lived with it, dealt with it
still at my strongest, at my weakest points
love spills forth from my lips followed by miss
'cause I'm hoping I still had one more chance to prove
What on earth can I prove now
what can I prove differently, say what I haven't reiterated
do what I couldn't do years ago
All that comes to mind is
race to her door, fall upon her floor
declare my love for the first of many
She was my first love at 12, I'm 19
I just want to fly away to an island of rain
to escape the pain
She lives heavily in my heart, happily where I found her
as I wear a mask to mimic her cheery exterior
while on the inside I'm miserable as I've ever been
March...
Categories:
reiterated, how i feel,
Form:
Free verse
How finely tuned this world the great machine
Precise: its programme code, and never changing
Immutable equations writ Boolean
Determine every nuance of arranging
The scene before my eye showed clear mutation
Dull Green and brown to bright and glistening white
The signal for this magic transformation
A predetermined level Fahrenheit
Yet there’s another factor to this drama
With impact more self-willed and variegated
That may drive this abundant diorama
I speak of life: each form reiterated
Regardless of the source from whence it came
Life creates fields, partakes in the great game
Categories:
reiterated, life,
Form:
Sonnet