Best Rhythmic Poems


Rhythmic Perfection (Anapestic Trimeter)

There's a river that twists in the mind
that I plunder and ravish with sieves,
on crusades to the summit of rhyme
where my Phoenix of tropes and schemes live.

In a war to free diction's fair Queen
where the Soldiers of Babel bemuse
and the modern day graceless regimes
are in battles to stifle my muse!

In my quest for her verse of prestige
I have traveled a nexus of words
with this Lexis of language on siege;
where the dissonant hum drum is heard!

Oh, the poise of my bayonet firm
as I pin down my thoughts in a rush!
Oh, the will of the language it squirms
as her essence of glory I brush!

She's the Queen Muse that whispers within
as she watches me battle with style,
she supplies me the yarn that I spin
as she lends me her rhythm awhile.

It's the moment her Highness is freed
that the Armies of Dissonance fall
and the sound of Perfection can bleed
in those lyrical sounds that enthrall!

Premium Member Smokey Filled Speak Easy

In the dim-lit alley of the soul's bazaar,
Were jazz and jive spill from ajar,
We tap our feet, snap fingers, under stars,
And speak in verses, raw and without pause.

The city breathes, a living, pulsing beat,
Its heart a drum, its voice a saxophone,
We weave through streets, our words a rhythmic feat,
In its sync with life yet distinctly our own.

We are scribes of midnight's whispered tales,
Our ink, the dreams that dance in smokey air,
Each line is a track on which our spirit sails,
A journey deep, beyond the skin, we dare.

So let us write, with passion as our guide,
Some beat poems, where truths cannot slide.
Then we'll take a carpet ride,
Sail across space standing side by side.

Premium Member The Rhythmic Sea

blue
                                          swelling 
                                  waves that quench
                                   the sun’s dry lips;
               they wait for night to dance beneath the stars.

                          ------------------------------------
                                          The Sea
                             Paul Callus ~ 8th Dec, 2015
                             Contest: Language of water
                               Sponsor:  Nette Onclaud
                                        Placed 3rd


Rhythmic Fornication

My life was heading into an infernal pit of passion.
I am inebriated, sipping your juices like a fine wine.

Infiltrating your body defenses with my offensive weapon.
My hands take control, scanning every contour.

In need of psychological evaluation.
I am a maniac, a lunatic in need of your drug.

Your body is my shrine, praying to you for all time.
Ignited hype, our passionate tunes,
rhythmically sensual, our movements in unison.

Journeying toward your loins with my imagination roaming.
Sex, not only. Perfection, I'm hexed. 
Now, I'm far from lonely.

My name is officer Pickett, your body is my jurisdiction.
Patrolling your perimeter, my every intent to please.

Your beauty manifests and becomes this portrait embedded in my mind.
Like Michael Angelo and Leonardo Divinchi,
your body is art. 
Spending a life time critiquing your imperfections.

In sexxtions.......



Jared Pickett
10/29/09
Asavvy1

Through the Rhythmic Sound of Solitude

Through the rhythmic  sound of solitude I travel

The wrought iron door opens wide

To the voice of silence I listen

In search for answers,  for truths all sealed inside.

I seek , I dig ... I dig hard  and deep , in hope of finding who  I am

At last, at last I catch a sight ,a blurry vision of myself.

In a crystal glass mirror , my hetroggyzite  twin I see

I remain still ! But not my shadow

My shadow moves unexpectedly. 

It moves, It follows patterns that satisfy perceptions 

  of a starving  harvest world

A world  of expectations in waiting to be fed.

There I stand, there I kneel, I shout,  I scream

I scream  with love and hate ,against the  drying sweat of tears

against the path,  against each lifeline of my faith.

Tears bleed , they bleed  for all that's been perceived.

Motionless I lay , knowing I'm anybody 's ,everybody's 

but my own . I'm  hundred times deceived..

What have I done , What  did they make of me ?

A stranger, an unrecognized past, 

A new existence without remembrance 

Who was I then, Who am I now When will it last ?.

Spring is still here ,but where is the music,Where is my song ?

Summer castles still built,But where are my fantasies,Where is the dream ?

Autumnal leaves fall ,But where are the colours,Where is my fire ?

Winter , Another Winter follows, snowflakes melt  once more, 

But where is the Christmas tree,Where is the child 

Where is the fairy stardust, once glistenening in her eyes ?

Where is my youth , Where is the echo of my laughter ?

Where am I , Who am I ? Where did they take me  ?

Vultures, that's who they are . Parastites , that suck on my thought,

Demanding change in a  soul that isn't theirs.

Through the  rhythmic  sound  of solitude  I travel,

The wrought iron door opens wide

To the voice of silence I listen,

From their ardous inheritance , I hide.




At last , at last I walk unchained ,At last, at last I recall my name
I dance in each season, I run without reason ,
I run free , I run wild , I smile like a child once again .

Rhythmic Slumber

*****************************


Strumming guitar necks
In a dyslexic manner
While on lsd

Mind turning pages 
Psychedelic music sheets
Colorful notes dance
 
Life wind cries Jimi
Living in a purple haze
Rainbow rhythm sleeps



******************************
© Abe Lopez  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Rhythmic Rainbow Revolution

Memory of past,
imagination of mirrored future,
evolve dipolar octaves of functional form,
informating appositional contention,
encoded, and therefore neurally decoding,
recoding
reconnecting from past to future to past regenerators
implicate ordered language and iconic relationships,
numeric transliterations across universal paradigms,
transformatively intuited,
transubstantiated semiotics,
transductive integrity of right and left ellipticals
eco-metaphysical and ego-physical fractalfunction 
mind/body interweaving
multisystemic regenesis
of full hued harmonies 
and curious orthopracticing temperaments,

Redeeming peace,
time as reiteratively co-arising mindfulness,
eco-ethics as co-incidentally mentoring evolution,
ecologic as logos moral syntax,
economics as normative co-investment order,
eco/ego-entifying as bilateral Earth Justice

Echoing resonance 
informing dipolar functions
filling balanced forming farms 
growing Yintegral empowerment 
with radiant Yang enlightenment

Not Polynomial double-negative boundaries 
and margins 
balancing poly-binomial (1/0) spacetime,
double-bound temporal-aptic neural strings,
never too late or early,
of resonant holonic calculation,
rational trigonomials,
fractally revolving geometrics,
permaculturing square-emergent roots
resonating Life's reverse-hierarchic 
exponential Win-Win Tree.

Eco-nutritional revolving roots
of power 
produce Earth's rainbowed metric rhythms,
branching eco-nutritional harmonic crowns
of light.

Jewish Rhythmic Elemental Summoning Dance Music

Fool an i
we lay so incredulously
In a love....
That it seems our sorrows rest in mind
and all is enabled,
now we able,
to weave mesh of this light as we bind...
seemingly caught up in webs of time.

But stood it may
like a shadow 
was the thoughts that attest between us..
how uncouth the prattled battle lay,
all it consumes,
as it presumes ,
to arrest and attest for our lives...
keeping us caught up in lies 'till we die.
© Billy Tunk  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Love is a Rhythmic Dance of Romance

Love between the two of us is a rhythmic dance, a romance
in the most sensual and subtle prelude we are wooed.
We share amorous flirting without need for words asserting
our intentions but sparked by an ember as we remember
our yearning and burning flames of fire, the wanton desire.

The nights spent together in love's passion, and the fashion
of your whispers on my nape, calling my name as you claim
me as your own. Our hearts beating in sync as one, and none
I've ever known made me feel completely sated. We're fated
to be together without a reason to sever our love.  Forever
will we share the last dance, the last kiss, making love like this.
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.

Rhythmic Voice of Own

natural compose
                                              music of rain and thunder...........
                                                  rhythmic voice of own

Rhythmic Pulses

you came to me
again in a dream...

this rain tapping
against the windowsill 
echoed like footsteps
down lonely streets

the thunder rolling
through the hills
mimicked my heart
beating in anticipation 
as you reached for me
through the shadows
on dimly lit walls

i felt your hands
gently tracing
the edges
of my soul

your lips
softly pressing
against mine
silent whispers
of love spoken
without words

i reached for you
my hands slipping
through air
falling by my sides
empty again

the only thing
thrusting forward
in rhythmic pulses
is this clock
on the wall

the rain tapping
on the windowsill
echoes like footsteps
fading in the distance
as i lie awakened
alone again

your kiss
still lingering
on my lips

The Last Day of Laurie Jeanne

O!  Laurie-Jeanne, Laurie-Jeanne!  Belle of my Heart!
Why did you have to fly?
From me who sang you a lullaby,
From the hospital room, ‘neath the thundering sky,
Beneath the thundering sky!?

O!  I love my Laurie-Jeanne like the Sun,
Like the Sun, and all things Endless!
Like the Wind, and the Sea, 
And the scent of pine trees,
And all things that leave me astonished!

You said, you were breathless, on the night ere you left,
And I thought that the pills were too much,
And I kissed you on top of your holy head,
And then in the morning, my Love, you were dead,
In the morning, my Love, you were dead.

O!  I love my Laurie-Jeanne like the Sun,
Like the Sun, and all things Endless!
Like the Wind, and the Sea, 
And the scent of pine trees,
And all things that leave me admonished!

When I held your still hand, growing cold, growing cold,
And I cried like a babe, with abandon,
And I stayed for three hours, I prayed that sweet bowers
Would receive you, and sprinkle you with dewy showers
And sprinkle you with dewy showers…

O!  I love my Laurie-Jeanne like the Sun,
Like the Sun, and all things Endless!
Like the Wind, and the Sea, 
And the scent of pine trees,
And all things that leave me unpunished!

In the end, I walked with you, as they took you away,
And I talked to them of love and marriage,
Tried to make them believe, though the eyes deceive,
That you must have a card up your sleeve, up your sleeve,
That you must have a card up your sleeve!

O!  I love my Laurie-Jeanne like the Sun,
Like the Sun, and all things Endless!
Like the Wind, and the Sea, 
And the scent of pine trees,
And all things that leave me untarnished!

Now I see you bright, standing, clothed all in pure white,
And my Faith undergoes transformation,
For, you stand there, as Real, as the warmth that I feel,
And your Heart’s like a diamond, your strength is like steel,
And your diamond-Heart Strength is like steel!

O!  I love my Laurie-Jeanne like the Sun,
Like the Sun, and all things Endless!
Like the Wind, and the Sea, 
And the scent of pine trees,
And all things that rise, undiminished!

Rhythmic Disorder

He sat there alone for 6hrs wondering if it’s too cold
Was it bold?
How long would it take for the promotional ladder
to transport him to the next level?
Was he ready?
Hmmmm, he’s not sure!
Are his feelings pure?
Is it the cure to close the door?
His heart cold blooded like bees,
His thoughts swarm unpredictably,
A young promise disguised in confusion,
His reality wasn’t meant to be,
Where does he go from here?
All the smiles have turned to pain,
Laughs to lightning and rain,
That reflection in the mirror to shame,
Life was good but now it lost its swag,
No more stunting,
Searching for a goodwill hunt
to satisfy his thirst to remain upfront,
He never planned for this,
Expected this,
It’s live,
Alive,
He’s breathing heavily,
It’s happening,
Shhhh,
One hour,
One minute,
One second,
He’s tired,
It`s closing time
His rhythmic lines are stretched out
like hands of a clock at 9 and 3.
© Remi Stan  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Train's Rhythmic Clatter

December winter, the night peace broken.
Pulling in a deep drag, a wee sound spoken,
Unseen considerable distance, recurrent roar
Of a train's vibration snaking on the rail score
A serpent devouring the expanse of space,
With  its  deafening  thundering  roar  race
Of its whistle warnings, the closer it nears.
Approaching road crossing the ditch lights appear,
Metal wheels rhythmic clatters over the rail ties
As it flies by, if saying, Hello. Good-bye.

1/3/2021
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.

Rhythmic Steps

Jogging silently through murky night.
Wanting,
Hogging contorted chirps of nocturnal eyes.
Feel the pressure from the heel to toe, heel toe.
Heel now!
An evil moan as Pain himself sets deeply into motion.
Heal.
I shy away with backward glances vigilant, aware.
Finding broken skin with bandages infested.
Time, the slowest of the many factions
Divides again in multiples of permeated fractions.
All amiss again accounting for the soiled actions.
I sigh and fall before the rage.
Emptiness floods through the gate.

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