Best Sequencing Poems


Premium Member Meaning of Life

Life
Spins
Shuffling
A playlist
Sequencing events
Encapsulating fierce lessons
Exuding a gentle breeze that conveys fear triumph
Savoring nectar sweetness brought with living each moment as first day of existence







For Life Contest
Sponsored by Janis Thompson
Third Place
5-15-2016

Premium Member Exit Ramp

The exit ramp looms large just up ahead,
though still an unknown distance ‘round the bend,
a terminus of sorts.
Perhaps a point from which to send
us out of time constraints, into the now,
the means by which remain unknown, just how
exactly, this all ends.
To fret, a waste, ’tis said, so I shall trust instead.

And yet, this ideation blooms within
my mind, a frequent fascination that
with other thoughts, comports.
If only now, is there no then,
and sequencing of time, thus obsolete,
as all arrive en mass, surprised to meet?
The world I know is flat;
my finitude stretched thin, constrained to trust again.


—————

Another fun one, a Mistress Bradstreet stanza: 10a-10b-6c-8b-10d-10d-6b-12a

This one comes from a notion from reading Matthew 25, in the Last Judgment. All would have died at different times, but on that day, all were surprised, hence the idea of different departures, all arriving at now.

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This will be the third time I've added sponsor info. I do not know what is happening here...

for the 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 22 Poetry Contest
sponsored by Mark Toney
written on 10/13/22
© Jeff Kyser  Create an image from this poem.

Inflation

Ytb! Ytb! 
We are here again 
The sokaklar are not safe anymore
The pride in us is slowly disappearing out there
Ytb ytb, have you heard about inflation? 

Lütfen explain to us ytb
The prices are no match out here
The lira is sequencing like polymerase chain
The cost of all kinds of stuff is reaching its peak
Happening like a lightning streak

Ytb nasil yapacagiz bilmiyoruz
The dollar blow is like an impregnable strike
The pockets are drying up faster than unexpected
The Alisveris Merkez is no longer our commonplace
Ytb, things are changing before our eyes

The math is challenging out here
Simit is now 3tl, çay is no longer our morning ilaç
The kebap is no longer affordable
Ytb! That çorba is now 10tl
The buck in 2016 is now worth 7 lira
How you did it haberim yok
But we think its kind of shifty ytb

I hear the sokaklar are tense with dollars
The Reis believe the opposite of textbook notes is true
Merak etmeyin he says
But you know ytb, we are not Rumplestiltskin
Maybe you should ask Captain Hook how he did it


Premium Member Urban Morning Sound

hear others out there, just beyond my wall-wrapped sharing space
  they break on through, sneaking inside my head
  far above, front-nosed pilots point high-flying seated people tubes
  passengers squeezed in tight, some feeling dread

  as jet engines cloud-buffet, amplifying reverberations
  chimney-chambers funnelling their muffled sound
  momentary fear spills downward into the peaceful living-room
  then gone, soon forgotten, on journeys bound

  clank and clang, lift-arm lorries crawling slowly by the gateway
  sin bins scooped, coloured cravings half-consumed
  cascades of clinking glass crescendo, bottle-bank vomiting noise
  rapid cadence, ambient drone resumed

  programmed heat, timed with boiler clicks, powering-up, igniting
  cold metal creaks around expanding joints
  curtains swish, blinds roll open, bleary blinking, homely morning eyes
  aural sequencing as the day appoints

  distant yowl of hooter horn, duly departing commuter train
  car doors slam, abrupt jarring intrusion
  gauntlet-running mothers compete with pavement-blocking pupils
  fumes linger, safety scarring delusion

  radio din, depressing electro-magnetic compression
  shovelled earth beside the thin blaring-out
  men again dig doggedly, patching patches for the umpteenth time
  careless strike, gushing hiss of waterspout

  road tyres clip, manholes rattle, drum the brief mid-morning lullaby
  rise and fall, the doppler siren speeding
  two-wheeled tiny engine buzz, irritating as it nears the ears
  loudspeaker hails, vies for votes its pleading

  post person presents the parcels, delivering rat-a-tat-tat
  cats scurry as scratching dogs lunge and bark
  then sudden bang, spread-eagled pigeon, wingspan on window-pane
  stunned, fluttering, hoping to reach the park
© Ian Love  Create an image from this poem.

With the Quickness

With the quickness ...
unprecedented corporate rise
Fabulous omni-view sky work space,
immune to boardroom gossip sickness

Poker-face negotiator disguise ...
keep the key competition guessing
Do the necessary background homework,
anticipate any proprietary lies

Next gen capitalist with no corruption trace ...
squint the inside of planetary councils
Logic sequencing of managerial decisions,
investors' hugs are a burgeoning dividend embrace

Lawyers love the legal byzantine thickness ...
corner the market on low g orbital gear
Warp expansion of the company's political assets,
explains how a lowly rock hopper ascends with the quickness

Premium Member Sonic Sonnet

Sonorous, saporous symphonies: strong;
soothingly spirited, sublime sweet songs.
Satisfied sigh, sees salubrious springs;
sharp, sizzling sunburn scream: saltwater stings.

Searing sharp satirists, snarkily snide;
subtle smart sophists show soft, specious side.
Skimpy, salacious shows sell sexy spice;
somber, sad serials scarcely suffice.

Seismic'ly sensitive subsurface screens;
substandard systems: severe shakes scarce seen.
Scaling slick surfaces, snow-scented slides;
slogging sludge swamps, smelling stinky sulfides.

Sans similarities, superimposed;
sequencing syllables, simple supposed.


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for the Begin with a Letter Poetry Contest
sponsored by Angela Tune
written 06/28/2022

an alliterative 'sonnet', with aabb pattern and 10 syllable lines
updated/extended from a shorter, earlier poem
© Jeff Kyser  Create an image from this poem.


Heart of the Matter

A man,
in the shadow of a child,
walks, for the sake of
phylogenesis.

The Great Bustard,
was on the brink of
extinction. Somebody
was not an achiever.

Seeking,
an inborn god in thighs,
for running faster than light,
weightless, faceless.

Dust will take,
dust for the dark matter
sequencing a disaster.
The animal within roars.


Satish Verma

Premium Member Fall

Oh!
Fall's
Beauty 
Radiates
Dries, falls, mulches fine

  

Fibonacci: 
0 
1
0+1=1
1+1=2
1+2=3
2+3=5
3+5=8
5+8=13
8+13=21

Sponsor: Brian Strand

Is a number sequencing poem. 

Written: November 20, 2020

Oxygen

Breathe words.

They are the essence of life. Communication is universal and language is key.

Every word is powerful, and any utterance, no matter how small, has the power to wound, empower, enlighten, convict, condemn, control, sway, break someone’s heart, sign someone’s fate, push someone away, draw someone close, or open up a mind to a long forgotten truth that is now taking light.

 

We don’t appreciate them because they can’t be taken away. We take them for granted because they have always been there, even before we were old enough to use them, but in reality, where would we be with out them? We breath them out as they pass through our lips about a billion times a day. Whether it is face to face or on the phone. We write them down as they flow from our pens, keyboards, blackberries or typewriters, each piece of paper or wire locking in a series of electronic sequencing that will transmit our words on to someone else.

 

It sounds complicated but it’s really not. Words are powerful, but like any toll that is in the wrong hands, they have the power to harm or be used in a dishonest fashion. Words can be personalized and usually are, even though each one is used millions of times a day, in thousands of ways and for hundreds of purposes.

 

That is why I

            BREATH

                        WORDS

Like they were lava in my veins, never taking a single one for granted and looking for the beauty each time I hear one for the first time. Dwelling on each and every sentence like when I was a child and would repeat everything anyone said to me, underneath my breathe just to savor the way that the words spilled from my tongue.

 

So now I give any and every word it’s due as if I despair of never hearing anyone say it again. Or what if I too, should forget of it’s existence and it’’s sweet venerable sound should never grace my lips again? I can think of no greater dishonor to the art of language as this. That is why language is my oxygen, and I

            Breath

                                    Words.

Premium Member Similar Sounds

Sonorous, saporous symphonies: strong;
Soothingly spiritual, sublime sweet songs.

Seismically sensitive subsurface screens;
Substandard systems severe shakes scarce seen.

Searing sharp satirists, snarkily snide;
Subtle smart sophists show soft, specious side.

Skimpy, salacious shows sell sexy spice;
Somber, sad serials scarcely suffice.

Sans similarities, superimposed;
Sequencing syllables, simple supposed.
© Jeff Kyser  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Limitless and Sequencing

Infinite bottomless
Infinite limitless
Limitless stamina
Limitless energy
Energy overload
Energy burdening
Burdening burgeoning
Burdening flourishing
Flourishing enterprise
Flourishing company

Company safeguarding
Company sheltering
Sheltering enemies
Sheltering predators
Predators sauntering
Predators wandering
Wandering aimlessly
Wandering mindlessly
Mindlessly faltering
Mindlessly fidgeting

Fidgeting nervously
Fidgeting worriedly
Worriedly galumphing
Worriedly galloping
Galloping anxiously
Galloping fruitlessly
Fruitlessly gathering
Fruitlessly harvesting
Harvesting wastefully
Harvesting foolishly

Foolishly challenging
Foolishly strenuous
Strenuous exercise
Strenuous practicing
Practicing stringency
Practicing discipline
Discipline lineage
Discipline progeny
Progeny fornicate
Progeny procreate

Procreate thoughtlessly
Procreate heartlessly
Heartlessly sickening
Heartlessly hideous
Hideous ordering
Hideous sequencing
Sequencing endlessly
Sequencing infinite
Endlessly…
Infinite…

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I think this may officially be a Whirtle McBlitz :-)
© Jeff Kyser  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Twitch

Tuning in the universe
Purpose and design
Questing, ever questioning
Matters of the mind
Information sequencing
Deep within the cell
Irreducibly complex
Creator has a tell
© Jeff Kyser  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Sequential Sequent Stars-

So suddenly settles silence 
Suggests strongly stunning smooth so shiny 
~a silver surrey sequencing sexy solaced stars~

12/23/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2020

My Pen Writes Only Words of Love

 MY PEN 
WRITES ONLY
WORDS OF LOVE

My pen 
     writes
         only 
Words of Love.

You say prove Manly Valor.
You say
 by
Dodging Death
            true 
           literary
           heroes 
                          Win a
                          War.

   I  comply
Shred my paper
Change my ink

Days and bloody Nights
          of War
      skies war shatter
      grounds war tremble
          I dream
           rations of
            War.

                             Repeat thrice
                               repeat again
until music sounds
mad battle music 
music lost in ragged shouts
            with the 
syllables made weary
weary of simplicity of sheer repeating
                                         until repeating
                                         multiplied in muffled sighs
                                         loses numbers
                                         in the Fray

I write only Red.

But to my shame
           (and with a secret, lingering delight)
Whatever pen
            in hand
                        spattering
            whatever color
            in pen
                        flirting with the windy wayward paper
I dodge only
Love Rockets

                      my  Pen
            adept now to sequencing of blood days--
                           death’s playmate
                            needs a sassy voice--
                 grim hilarity
                  hides terror
     
       Valiant and Red Crimson
                   reflects 
                    only a
                   familiar,
                 inscrutable
                 kissing shade ---
                       the
             aching inner lips
                      of 
                    you


Note:  a medieval musician was threatened with death if he couldn't sing epics. He answered he could only sing love songs. That incident was the inspiration of this poem.

Winds Speaking

Sequencing With Everything 
                    i Have Ever Known With
                                   ideal
                     Could mainly Light speak
                     Or Dose Darkness speak it's
                     Tone Love thinks it's truth
                     Never take back your thinking
                     Tells are the winds of Beauty 
                     Time Time as Sure We Go
                      To Hint Real, True and Permanent.

                            Seen Art Unutterable: : !

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