Best Spliced Poems


Premium Member :::In Node Mode:::

                        *
                       / \
                     /     \
                    sliced
                 and whole
               a cleaved life
             in flux cast dice
           state of non being
         potential in between
        eternity's randomness
       flip a coin up into the air
      unpredictability flies there
     alternate reality hints upon
     •>•
     parallel universes going on
       realistically just one path
        life’s inevitable no math
         untangled observation
           spit out my creation
             god particle sown
              new baby grown
                chop the cord
                   use sword
                      spliced
                        \      /
                          \  /
                            *
By
David Kavanagh 
HMS
Categories: spliced, birth, creation, perspective,
Form: Etheree

Folk Tale

tidy yarn woven
neatly spliced with home spun charm
gilded tapestry
Categories: spliced, social
Form: Haiku

Into the Deep

Silently white snow falling
Covering the ground in a pristine blanket
Purest white, luminous in the night
Muffling the silence of the night


Into an even deeper reflection
Stillness not of the head, but of the soul.
I sit quiet and let the blank spaces fill me
Driving out the pain
Driving out the sadness
Driving out the regret
Filling my emptiness with cold solace

Slowly the snow stops 
Night sky is revealed
An ebony quilt covered in dust-like jewels
Too numb to twinkle.
Dark trees reach winding limbs to catch the stars
No wind moves them ,
Or disturbs the spliced flakes
No wind cries in the night
No animal howls its loneliness,
No crying from my heart
I am filled with stillness.
Categories: spliced, space,
Form: Light Verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Scion of Wisdom

A sage with wisdom so erudite
Muse filtering hope, shedding light
Mentor whose keen insight doth shape, mold
Dr Ram's words are better than gold

Twining cultures with his harmonious pen
Idioms, aphorisms from his native kin
With adopted truisms, symbols doth fold
Dr Ram's words are better than gold

Verses sculpted with cunning concision
Accents, rhymes spliced with stunning precision
Crafty metaphors, metonymies freely doled
Dr Ram's words are better than gold
Categories: spliced, dedicationwords,
Form: Kyrielle

Under Skeletal Remains

The sea summons in unrelenting whispers
haunting the night as waves spin their spliced harrowing tales
 
Hallowed echoes an unending scourge over tenderness 
weeping secrets wait held in bondage’s everlasting kiss 
 
Terrified to speak as translation becomes disloyalty 
aching is betrayal and compassion is flammable fragility 
 
One misstep and balance becomes twisted alienated from truth 
as fear takes hold from these toxic dissonant words 
 
Scathing reproach becomes buried beneath tidal swells 
carrying out its inevitable pilgrimage towards unrighteousness
 
Cold suspicion scatters on the shores in broken shells
trapped by suffering and tormented by long ago betrayals
 
Decaying memories never lived once imagined still dwell unanswered   
this is not love quietly whispers on the wind of denial's farewell....
Categories: spliced, anger, angst, anti bullying,
Form: Couplet

Premium Member Summer Song

I love to season sense engage.
It clears parts mortality dazed.

When young, summer’s tune range
is firmly, soul-deep engraved.

When grown, human ways hush
man's faith with factual mush.

Summer composed odes grant
faith prose that hopes maintain.
The soft song of a summer breeze
lifts aloft a wonderous spree
of smoothed, spliced rapture
too song silky for feel capture.

Summer’s charming, velvet songs
hold notes of mystical essence
assuring we’re a spiritual presence.
Seasonal airs of sensual flairs
are fluid trilled, space tilled, and
sound honed by summer’s hymn.

Feeling air's first tune blend, 
early man named it wind.
Categories: spliced, appreciation, beauty, creation, spiritual,
Form: Lyric


Premium Member Suncatcher

In gentle breeze, a prism swings,
until each side has felt the sway
It hangs there by a thread of string
while waiting for the sun to play.

Sun passes by, so brief a glance
refracting light from morning skies
And soon my eyes must do a dance, 
entranced by all the butterflies !

Thrown against the wall as dice
Into a million moths that clone
from splintered sunlight, color- spliced,
as clear as ice, precisely honed. 

And as it twirls, more colors soar
With constellations telescoped
They rise up deep from prism's core
as if to make kaleidoscopes.

Walls gather up the rainbow's hue
Stain-glassed winglets for my view
Although I try to catch a few
They fly away, ...while sun does too.


____________________________________________________
For Contest Sponsored By Julia Ward
"A Kaleidoscope of Butterflies"
Categories: spliced, imagery, light, sun,
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Captains Log Book - July 16, 1798

Twere a   blisterin day, on da Fundy Bay, aboard da ‘ Black Angel of da Blue”, 
with a crew of 32, whilst resting a spell, wid a thunderin clap of grog ,
when da Jack o’ Cups , his Jib a hangin, spotted a Jolly Roger aft.

Aye!  ye coulda sinked me! When dem thar scallywags  gave chase.
 So we  pumped da bilge, droppin a load of crap in thar path, weighed anchor, 
turned three sheets to da wind and tried to outrun dem thar sprougs,
 but me mateys' deadlights twere blinded by da grog - 
as useless as dem thar lanlubbers, and soon dem thar scallywags
overhauled da ‘ Black Angel’.

So! wid a heave to, we blasted dem thar swabs wid da balls off da Brass Monkey...six pounders dey be, but nary-a-one hit da mark and nary a one came back. Dem thar scuffeys' didn’t aim ta sink us, fur da botty be all dey be wantin.

Arrr! Fur sur now we be black spotted,
 but I not be ready fur Davey Jones locker yet.
One more clap of thunder be what I be needin ta clear me groggy mind
 and figger a way outta dis hornwaggle.

So I spliced da mainbrace and it come ta me in a flash,
da only cargo we be a carryin be Rummmmmmmmmmmm. 
so we set dem thar kegs adrift and it wernt long afore dem thar 
sprougs was a drinkin grog and a fine time be had by all.

                                ~~~~~


Inspired by:  Paula Swanson's contest
Awarded:  Second Place

Author's Note:

In order to understand this narrative, you need to understand Pirate's language.  You can 
find it on the web - just type Pirate language in your search engine.
Categories: spliced, me,
Form: Narrative

Disenchanted Muse

My muse did her fealty recuse
My honor she did stealthily reconnoiter
My discourse was grounds for divorce
Finding my writing no longer enlightening
My blithe parlance no longer my mistress did entrance
With my prose she did forthrightly dispose
Each short she did subsequently abort
Each regaling verse did prudently disburse
Each perforated line truncated with lackluster shine
Each conjured sentence only increased my penance
Each glamorous byline she did smugly decline  
Each dilated phrase with a bridling border did encase  
Each gilded stanza a burnished extravaganza yielding no artful bonanza
Each tethered word coagulated into a stolid curd
Each bloated quote sunk my creative float deeper in the moat 
Each lofty rhyme labeled too smarmy and sublime
My metric time no longer struck a concordant chime
Each literary device neatly spliced would not even a novice entice 
Each repetitive, stagnant metaphor made my verse a bore
Each strained, tortured simile engendered no empathy
Each supplanted metonymy a shock wave lobotomy
Categories: spliced, funny, metaphor,
Form: Light Verse

The Escape Route

Down many of the coalmines in Yorkshire , Safety dictated that an alternative means of escape
had to be found just in case anything ever happened to the shafts that raised and lowered miners to their work.
This usually involved keeping a single route open underground to the next nearest colliery .


Old George waiting by the mineshaft 
Spitting his chewing tobacco juice 
Today with his apprentice 
They must survey the mines escape route . 

1000 yards underground  
In darkness as black as pitch 
They reach up to their helmets
Turning on the headlamp switch.

George prodding at the timbers 
That support the roof and sides
His apprentice grows more nervous
With every single stride .

A mile down the escape route 
The roof is seven feet high
They see a little fallen rock
but manage to squeeze by .

The roof is getting lower
George hears the scurrying of mice 
Brought down the mine in bales of hay
When pit ponies and the miners destiny were spliced.

The apprentice is visibly shaking 
but only one more mile to go 
When a piece of falling timber 
Dealt his torch battery a glancing blow.

George could see the boys panic
and as the leader of his team 
He reassured his apprentice
Then they shared the single beam .

Suddenly they hear a crack like thunder
Then the splintering of wood 
George pushes his apprentice 
but a fall of rock stands where George stood.

Young boy on his hands and knee's
Screaming Georges name
More terrified by the second 
When no answers came.

Now in total blackness 
He inhabits the world of the blind 
If he is to help his leader
The boy must use his senses and his mind .

The faintest hint of breezes
He feels on his face 
Air sucked down the mineshaft
Just might be his saving grace 

He crawls along the jagged floor 
Using his sense of touch 
Soon in the distance he hears machinery
A sound he has never loved so much .

He tastes the ever freshening air
Hope inside him grows
Then the tiniest speck of flickering light
His tears overflow. 

Help,  Help,  he's calling 
As the miners come into view
Two men want to hep him to the surface 
Burt he awaits his friends rescue.

Old George didn't make it 
He sacrificed himself to save the boy
Broken hearted the boy had a breakdown 
and had to leave the mines employ.

The boy became a father 
Then a wonderful granddad 
but he never tired of telling the story
of the best friend he ever had.
Categories: spliced, heart,
Form: Narrative

Crust Method

Eye  control darkness
Standing in creek consciousness
Eye pain portal
Me maladjusted myalgia
Hyposyncratic virilence
It tick, me tick
Bit me
Me sick
Loads shells, no click

Arabic apotheosis shrouded in defamation
Famine lives thru sublimation

Disgorge over the stern of the barge
Decrepid canal lazes with crude afterbirth
Charged with aborted sludge 
Stripping the last shreds of life from the shopping carts that pose on the bottom
Fist-nose, lymphnodes spliced with tar
Near here the fear steers clear from afar
The fetid bargeman stalks the scape defiled
Drapes his rape on the nape of the last paedophile.
© Rob Browne  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: spliced, slam, spiritual,
Form: ABC

~masochist Mind~

Expunged upon each breath,
freezing accusations
sealed your lips,
and like a snare, retribution
closed its choking grip.

I had seen the flush of blush
upon each cheek,
when casual touch
lingered just a little too much,
for what is flirtation
but prelude to conquest,
with me a discarded after-thought.

Excuses like autumn leaves,
twisted in my maelstrom,
they were nothing
but a future medium
for growing better lies,

and I gather shining images,
spliced together with fantasy,
projecting this movie
onto the blankness of my fears.

Coincidence brings coffee to a table,
over-sweetened with honey words
and schoolgirl-like smiles,

this innocent rendezvous
that taints my blue sky,
is nothing but a grey cloud
of twisted imagination,

and self-flagellation.
Categories: spliced, autumn,
Form: Free verse

Landscape of the Fallen

Shards of silver spliced the sky
while my sister went to gather
laundry fluttering on the line 
between two swaying Aspens.

But the fierce southeasterly 
proved too much
for one of the colossal pair
old and pock-marked, it slowly careened
then toppled the length of the yard.

Sensing the fall, my father screamed
her name into the broken sky 
until he found her under the arbour 
storm clouds in her eyes.

For many days after I rode my tricycle 
round the shaft of that body bruised
a mark of exclamation on
the story writing inward
as my father, with his chainsaw drawn, 
cut wood for many winters.
© Soulfire  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: spliced, life
Form: Narrative

Premium Member A Spring Mix

In early spring some days are cold, 
for winter’s loath to break its hold, 
still sending winds that bite and sting. 
Some days are cold in early spring.

Sing, one and all, to welcome the unique 
Pleasantness of spring. Sun’s 
Rays and showers will fulfill their 
Intended purpose, engendering 
New life in the earth as we say 
Good-bye to Winter’s last cold blast.

Are those little birds I see now 
soaring in the skies above me? 
Itchy, weepy, bloodshot eyeballs 
strain to see spring's scenes so lovely. 
Fragrances of March and April, 
gifts sweet springtime now delivers, 
permeate my faucet nostrils, 
turning streams to raging rivers. 
Benadryl is coursing through me, 
bringing respite from the season, 
rendering me semi-conscious, 
itching not, but lacking reason.

Mid-spring is here. The earth’s alive. 
Green grass, full trees, and flowers thrive. 
Sunshine and warm winds bring us cheer. 
The earth’s alive. Mid-spring here. 

Comes June’s debut with longer days 
and rising heat. To summer’s ways, 
we soon must bid sweet spring adieu. 
With longer days, comes June’s debut.


March 23, 2021, spliced together from three old poems
Contest: Fragments of Verse
Sponsor: John Lawless
Categories: spliced, spring,
Form: Verse

We Are Great-Ful

------

We worship alone
We do sing of silent prayer
We do this for so many reasons'
Fore He deserves' 
       Our Prayer
      ------
Fore One,
With-out Christ
The Holy One
Their would be no salvation
The Dark shall block the Sun
The World would crumble
Beneath it's own Indignation
      ------
Two, is for the Spirit in You
To thy own self be true
You suffered for so many reasons'
Now, your life is spliced into...
      -------
Three is for the Fear
That whether Ye shall see the Light
In the face of thine own enemies'
Total damnation is the only thing
That comes' to mind
This is not of the Lord
And Paradise is some-where else
And the truth,
Ye shall never find
At least, not in time....
      ------
Four is to know that Ye,
Shall never meet the light
By the time that redemption 
Is in sight, then, You are already
Some kind of Creature of the Night
      ------
So, search in the Lord
That is nothing new,
He will show you what to do
And if you believe in Jesus
He will see you threw....

                    GF
Categories: spliced, death, devotion, faith, sad,
Form: Pastoral
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