Best Superseding Poems
Jack Frost, Jack Frost, how we feel your icy touch.
The earth lies under your freezing clutch.
You are a sneaking thief coming to steal the russet sun,
And mercilessly take away all our outdoor fun.
Fluffy snowflakes on feathery wings unfurled,
Fall gently and silently over the sleeping world.
First they come slow and then in torrential showers fast,
As if the snowing will never stop, but forever last.
Busy streets and pavements are now lying bare.
People stay indoors. To come out, they hardly dare.
Rodents have gone into hibernation in their ditch.
It seems life altogether has gone out of pitch.
Birds sit with drooping wings in their woody nests.
Within eyeshot, no trace of any roaming beasts.
From nowhere comes the song of a single bird.
On the slopes, one cannot sight the grazing herd.
Inch by inch, foot by foot, snowflakes fall,
Surrounding us on all sides like an oppressive wall.
Tawny roof tops are crusted with flakes of milky snow,
That the sun with golden beams alone can thaw.
From the cobalt sapphire sky’s misty veil,
Fall down the snowflakes like summer hail.
Unpigmented piles get heaped on the ground,
And the Earth lies inundated in a sea of milk churned.
From the seamless sea of ice, strewn with scattered gems,
Aureate, flaxen sunbeams make glittering diadems.
Thus Nature creates variegated scenes, delighting the heart,
Superseding every piece in a museum of man-made art!
Wonder Clouds
Sometimes I wonder,
And then I wander, in my thoughts.
What lies above those clouds up high?
Beyond the bleached, yellow sometimes blue sky.
Some say that clouds are but a mere cloud of vapour,
But is that true?
Sometimes I wonder,
And then I wander, what is above those clouds?
Maybe an entire civilisation,
Of dragons and fairies and queens and kings,
Where there are lilies that jump around and toads that sing,
Wolves big and bad, pumpkin carriages round and stout,
Rainbows, unicorns, pearls,
And all those wonderful things, tiny tots dream about.
Sometimes I wonder and then I wander,
Maybe that is where He lies,
Superseding all,
Guiding us above,
Uplifting our falls,
Ruling over fates and destinies,
Lives and deaths,
But then does He really exist?
Sometimes I wonder and then I wander,
That’s where I will find good old peace,
A holy sane kingdom
Where there is serenity, beauty, probably freedom,
Where there is no worry, no sadness, no negativity.
Where there is no tiring search and no disheartening find,
But then isn’t peace a state of mind?
Sometimes I wonder and then I wander,
Maybe that’s where actual life is,
With trees and birds and breeze and rivers,
Where there are no dark lights and cold chills or shivers,
Where there are playing children, whispering mothers and laughing elders,
High above the rain and thunder of the world,
Where everyone is blessed with an eternal kiss,
But without an end, can a beginning persist?
Sometimes I wonder and then I wander,
What lies above those clouds?
Maybe something we have uncovered,
Or something not meant to be discovered.
But imagination lives on,
And dreams never die,
And theories never perish,
Because that’s where true creativity lies.
Whatever is above there,
I believe it’s not very far,
From an open mind and a welcoming heart,
But I can’t help but wonder,
How fateful the birds really are,
How hateful the birds really are.
Manya Chopra
15 years old
Mumbai, Maharashtra, India.
YOU ARE THE ENEMY OF MY PAIN
SOMEONE WHO IS A TRUE GOD SEND
EVEN THOUGH YOU LIVE SO FAR
YOU HAVE HEALED MY SCARS
A CHILD- LIKE INNOCENSE THAT YOU POSSESS
IS SOMETHING I LOVE AND I MUST CONFESS
THE WORLD HAS YET TO REALISE
SOMETHING THAT I VISUALIZE
FOR THEIR IS A DREAMER WHO CAN HYPNOTISE
THIS SLEEPY WORLD WITH HIS GOLDEN EYES
THE LIGHT IS HIDDEN IN HIS TRUE ART
SUPERSEDING THE OLD AND YOUNG HEARTS !
MY LOVER-ARTIST YOU HAVE CHANGED ME
AND THIS LOVE HAS NOW SET ME FREE
FROM THE SATANIC WORLD OF DARKNESS
NOW I HAVE FOUND SOLACE
IN YOUR POETRY...
I CAN BREATH THE FRESH AIR OF LIBERTY
AND SPEAK MY MIND WITH BREVITY
IN YOUR EYES I FOUND MY INNOCENCE
FOR YOU TAUGHT ME PATIENCE WITH PERSEVERANCE
MY LOVER I WISH TO DRINK YOUR SENSUOUS LIPS
LOVE YOU TILL THE MORNING KISS
I WOULD BECOME THE LINES OF YOUR PALM
HUG YOUR LOVE WITH MY OPEN ARMS....
Copyright 2011 by Smriti Jha
This is for a very very very very special person !
My poems are weak and the verse is lacking
And At this moment you're attacking
Correcting and dissecting
And inspecting it for flaws
You're reading it and bleeding it
And plotting superseding it
Of this I'm sure you're capable
And I salute you all
While sitting here and writing this
It brought me tender happiness
The words were dancing fairies
stomping circles through my head
The letters started whirling
Then swirling and twirling
And stacked themselves in patterns
forming combos in their stead
These markings joined with others
As I pressed on with a shutter
Which direction was this leading?
I was eager to discover!
And in time I surely found it
And was pleasantly astounded
How the lines had stacked together
and the meaning that surrounded
We are ashamed, sir dear
We are ashamed.
Neither the earth glistened
In the ray of good time,
Nor we are still
In the way of good time.
Pen is serving, not right
But the mighty lord,
Kneeling bowing bending,
Instead of superseding sword.
Nations still quarrel
To prove them stronger.
Men are being slaughtered
For the sake o f honour.
Men are being burned,
Terror rules the world,
Birth, not the worth
Still fools the world.
War, the monster of iniquity
Has worn different masks.
Somewhere proving pride
Somewhere deadly tasks.
We couldn't bring the good time
The good time once you dreamt.
‘'Let us aid what we can''
We have forgotten what you meant.
"Unreasonable Reasons for Fighting Dragons: Off Planet, Exiled"
I could write something beautiful for you,
like outside the windows
the raindrops slide off tips of green leaves
there are tears like pearldrops falling
onto moist lips like ripe rosebuds
hints of myrtle lemon that the tongue licks
like sticky marshmallow fingertips sweetly glued
softly placing a bookmark, between pages.
we should stop there for the night, before bedtime,
because bedtime is where love waits impatiently
for all manner of things,
like daughters immersed in all their removed seasons
reflected in unreasonable reasons
for fighting dragons in their imagined labyrinths
I cajole you, I proffer
that the very first love you will ever know
has prickly barbs like a bee that stings
and sticks deep in the skin like supersedure,
n.b. for hives, use Royal Crème,
and the preceding Queen bees
take an unaccustomed back seat,
sipping thoughtfully on honeyed
words and mead
in that tricky place,
where their children once played
and now those daughters
are the superseding
Royal Queens;
they are without doubt
the strongest in this case,
immortal paramours
and whilst their doppleganger stance
is terribly traumatised and competitive,
the archives, I have learned
as chief librarian in this place,
in grounds most territorial,
must be handled
with speak easy kid gloves,
insert the softest lambs’ wool here -
black sheep
all of the above
Candide Diderot. ‘24
I know that I have called this a sonnet, and I recognise that it falls short of such an esteemed form, but it is my first attempt, please forgive me.
in SUPPORT of GOOGLE'S SELF DRIVE CAR
a black tarmac warrior
a technology killing humanity worrier
plotting a course at one hundred kilometres an hour
his fatigued mind begins to wander
they want to take away his freedom
to replace his skills and wisdom
superseding his brain with one of silicon
technology supplanting humanity beyond his reason
Isaac and I Robot showed the way
when with technology protecting humanity we will rue the day
while his mind remains resolute, his car begins to sway
because humanity in control is the only way
then in his old age, his is the first generation
with no licence, but independent automated motion
The image of morning mapping from the four cardinal points at the center of
busy pedestrians running ups and down to the bottom of their energies,
Chasing the note they never designed to decimate
ownership.
The smiling morning bubbling their imagination to the high magnitude of
Success languishing behind heart seeking to control situation to the center
of the market, number of desperate merchandises queuing to drink their
Imagination protruding bellies where Satan jolts their hearts to refine
thirty with disastrous desires.
The noise is enough to tantalize the talon of termites boiling at the
center hopping to solve dove segmented wants which never will be OK to
Occurrence of the occupation that too schlock to crumble tantamount to
desire of the heart.
Despite the pain still depicted on his hustle still never give up searching
the treasures that he never keeps no he pinpoints the right place, but just
Living in dilemma of success rocked of magenta quill of shaving beard.
The center of plying to control the Flocks moment of people from all
Angles, prices are bargain with sometimes smile with sometimes waged with
Sadness, the sanity of controlling the market trends is far from certain.
Stalls from left to right which drank the movements of people from one
Place to the other impossible night mad with workaholics perambulating with
Stitches ideas like the mountains of women flashing around with eagerness
to cook the dinners for husbands paying the prices for being too long away from home.
I blame the desires that preoccupied the daily lives of individuals
Superseding with treasures that don't accompany neither nor accomplish your
Bills for the prayers you missed and messed your time behind rouged
the Treasures that still is your colonial master.
A bliss so old, yet void of functional losses
seemingly very simple- making them a divine binary
exhibiting commitment cutely disciplined, fashioned and pure
superseding the training of a hundred seminaries
Just holding hands and perfume’s scent
bring back memories and give a fresh experience
oldskool tease and creative naughtiness
generate uniquely a specific ambience
Periods had gone, stages were set
yet getting stronger, phase after phase
despite all extremities and pressures boldly faced
the bond enjoys water, making the union such an unbreakable vase
love through the ages, strengthened by a thousand cords
powerful and exemplary, only death can be its landless lord
Pancholi Nandlal Kanjibhai's Home Feedback & Suggestions
Poems By Pancholi Nandlal Kanjibhai
Category Date
Imagination 14-01-07
Email
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Chromosomes of creeds having been replete with
Seeds of retardation in turn breed more and
More mongoloids of ethnic obsessions, hence
Engineers of genetics may ponder over removal
Of pathogenic germs and the defective sperms
From the colloid of contemporaneity.
And after that an era of equanimity would dawn
Where science would have been made to dominate
Politics, eugenics meant to succeed restricted
Homogeneous breed, color hatred and racial
Discrimination dismissed as obsolete relics of
Primitive past, polygamy officially replacing
Monogamy, world government superseding
Neurotic nation states and the whole world
Becoming a family in this would be world
Nuclear arsenals will become irrelevant
Whose is that hat lying sideways on the ground?
What about the bloody shoe with nothing else around?
The ominous absence of the crowds that usually roam,
Stepping over puddles and things that once were owned.
Such disparity to hear the ringing cell phones stuck on repeat,
A worried friend? A distraught mother?
Someone praying it’s not their brother!
The shock must be retreating
Because quickly the fear is superseding
Painful memories begin to emerge,
it’s all coming back in a violent surge
distorted screams, running, running, I’m down, come back!
don’t leave me here all alone to react
I can hear the loud popping approaching from behind
My time has come, I don’t want to die, My Adrenaline is at an all-time high!
Someone pulls me up, but I can’t hear what he’s saying
Is it safe here? we hide in fear, hoping he’s not too near!
Sirens wailing, bodies shaking, people moaning, bodies aching
Armed officers rush over, my adrenaline is dissolving
This night has changed us in no way worth describing.
Help me brain, forget this day, make me numb to this pain
Yellow tape all around, empty slugs all over the ground
Bodies draped in fresh white linen, now crimson red-soaked sheets
Underneath a thick like syrup, seeping toward my feet.
What seems to be over is just the beginning of a horrid dream
A hellish nightmare on an endless loop of suffering
So many questions that can't be found...
Whose is that hat lying sideways on the ground?
In the west any woman
can invite a man to bed,
but do that stuff in Iran
and they’ll huck rocks ’till she’s dead.
In the west any Christian
can get with like folk to pray,
try doing that in China
and they might just lock you away.
In the west any person can
criticize religious figures,
do the same in the Middle East
and they kill you with great vigor.
In the west we own up to
mistake made against Indians,
to this day Turkey denies what
it did to the Armenians.
In the west our women take part
in public like and politics,
in Saudi lands the women are
shrouded up in tent fabric!
In the west we’re open to
music of every kind,
in the Muslim world music is
often evil in God’s eyes.
In the west if a man steals
he’s gotta do time in the slam,
in Arabia they would rather
publically chop of your hands??!!
In the west we long ago
fought to free those who were enslaved,
but in Libya and Sudan
you can still buy them to this day.
In the west our poor people
often suffer from being fat,
how many North Korean poor
wish they could ‘suffer’ like that?
In the west we always expect
rule-of-law to serve us well,
in Mexico half the police
are working for the drug cartels.
In the west natural rights
are recognized the greatest good,
superseding even culture,
as your freedoms always should.
But in so much of this planet
naught but tyranny persists,
with cultures that deny the fact
that your rights even exist.
Professors say we’re all the same,
aren’t they supposed to be smart?
Results alone speak for themselves,
tear their rantings all apart.
Look at the ideas that have doomed
the once rich Venezuela,
ask how many people are now
desperately swimming to Cuba?
They all come here seeking success,
of that there is little doubt,
our ideas are so appealing
we build fences to keep them out!
Despite our past imperfections,
the cold hard fast can’t be missed.
when it comes to self-improvement,
the west’s running away with it.
Our history and our results
so very clearly can attest,
the cultures, they are not the same,
and the west really is the best.
Escalated had it, through mere words
An argument with a drunk, leaving none sober
Avoidance I practiced, consequential to unity
A day of togetherness, spent alone
My desire to leave, superseding my will to stay.
You were right, I conceded; true or untrue
A waste was it to speak, when I would be unheard
To read was it my choice, to refuse
A key preventing entrance, denying inebriated lectures
Solitude enlightening the festivities, more than company.
The skies were blue as I walked toward a reprieve
Blame was exchanged, for a norm that was apparent
Maybe a little disappointment, wooed me forward
But an excuse does that afford none, for irrationality
Irresponsible was I in not informing ; irresponsible were you in trying to find me.
Your defence would I always assist, to rectify or sway
Good to me were you never not
Imperfections denied by a bond, unbroken
My respect wanting to yield, but not confounding
Your pedestal never lowering, even when your actions requested.
Maybe forgiveness is to be asked, to relieve
An apology would do well, to alleviate
One person, a victor, the other not; egos choosing
Toxins I am unaccustomed to, poisoning minds
I want to hate, but love remains true.
PROTONS AND NEWTONS
THE FLAVORS
THAT FAVOR MEANS
THE MODE OF THOUGHT
THE SCEINCE OF
THE THING THAT CAUSES
GROWN MEN TO DREAM
LABOR THROUGH THOSE
EMOTION
THOSE STUMBLING BLOCKS
THAT HINDER THINGS
CREATED FROM THE DISTORTED
THOUGHT
THE KIND OF WORDS
WHERE PROCESSES BEGAN
IN THE DIRECTION OF THESE ACTIONS
MIGHT THIS SATISFACTION
BE MEASURED IN TERMS
OF SUCCESS, MONEY, AND DREAMS
DISCLAIMER, MUSSIENDUL VACKTURBERGS " TIME MACHINE", IS A FICTIONAL TALE OF A DEVISE THAT MEASURE 13 FT. TALL, WITH A WIDTH OF 7 FEET, AND MOVED 3 METERS, ALLOWING THE OCCUPATES TO TRAVEL THROUGHT TIME AND SPACE. THE COMPLICATIONS OF THE DEVISE WERE DEBATED BY A 21 CENTERY SCEINTIST WHO RAN FOR PRESIDENT OF AN ISLAND NATION. oTHER COUNTRIES FEARED HE HAD DEVELOPED A TIME MACHINE, THIS CAUSED A STRUGGLE WHICH LEAD TO THE INVASION OF HIS COUNTRY. FICTION, WRITTEN BY OTTA THANG, NEW YORK WRITTTING COMPANY. IT WAS SAID THE FICTION WAS WRITTEN TO INSPPIRE A MOVIE, THE SOUNDTRACK, WAS WHAT THE AUTHER HAD WANTED, HE WAS A MUSIC LOVER.THE IMPLICILY OF SUPERSEDING SOMETHING THAT IS ALREADY IN EXSISTANCE. IN SERTION OR STRIKING SOMETHING THAT HAS BEEN CREATED AND THAN RECREATED TO MANIPULATE IT IN ANY MANNER. REDRESSING A SUBJECT TO REPROACH, THE MANNER OF SPACE, FROM ONE END TO ANOTHER, THE ENACTMENT OF FINDING FAVOR IN MANIPULATING FORWARDNESS THRU SPACE TRAVEL.
W -Whimsical
I - imps;
S - Santa's
H - helpers
I - invent
N - new
G - games.
A - as
M - magical
E - elves
R - ride
R- reindeer,
Y - yuletide!
C - Christmas
H - holds
R - religious
I - implications
S - superseding
T - this
M - marketing
A - affiliated
S - sensationalism.
T - Though
O - observers,
A - also
L - love
L - lights.
(Acrostic)
12/08/2022
Christmas Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Bobby May