Best Surfacing Poems
Food for thought!...today~some Quantum physicists believe we live in a holographic universe...with multi-dimensional realities living side by side...and these multiverses only exist if observed upon...
Spurious spatiotemporal spacious synthetic skies
Contrarious curious conundrums critically compromise
Mysterious matter melding metamorphically mystifies
Nefarious neurological nilpotent neurons normalize
Insidious idealized information instructions immunize
Hilarious holographic hallucinogens hyperactively hypnotize
Various vector voids vivaciously vaporize
Delirious denurulizing defragments deceivingly digitize
Jan.11.2020
First Time Here - Any Monorhyme
Sponsored by: William Kekaula
Placed 1'st...Thank You
Spontaneous sulfurous stigmata sinisterly surfacing
Membranous molecules meticulously masterfully marshaling
Tangible tempestuous tears tangling thoughts
Radical revelation revealing ruinous rots
Pious priests patronize punishable penance
Impious illusions intrigue impacting independence
Narcotizing nefarious noxious naves navigate
Prioritizing pains portal pandemic perpetrate
False fixation fumigates fragmental fatal fury
Defaults determine damaged destructive demons dreary
Jan.18.2020
Eight-word challenge 1 2020
Sponsored by: John Hamilton
Placed 3'rd...Thank You
suddenly surfacing. . .
a poem lost
in the clutter
of the junkyard
that is my mind
my angers rising
coming closer to the surface.
its slowly coming.
creeping ever closer!
the other me is slinking,
slinking through my mind!
hes so enraging!
he infuriates me!
we hate each other,
but he is me!
and hes filled with rage!
through which he can not see!
we fight for dominance!
a constant battle!
we almost seem to dance,
but its a fight to the death!
when we finally agree
or when we are filled,
with so much pain we must flee.
we become one.
when we become one.
you better back off.
we will have our fun!
which is only fun for us.
we'll take out your intestines
tie them in a noose!
and hang you from them.
making sure they aren't loose!
we'll slit your throat
fill up a glass with your blood,
and force you to drink it!
untill you seem to float
in your crimson flood!
we'll burn the world
for all the pain we've felt!
and the world will fear
for we will not stop,
No we'll not shed a single tear
you think im crazy
you think your friends are crazy.
you havent seen us!
and if you have
do not fuss
we are angry
we are enraged!
we dont get hungry
when we feast
and release the beast.
when we release the beast
dont try to run
dont even hide.
that only increase the fun!
so when you see us,
just hope and pray,
that its only me!
because if we fray
you may pay,
with your life!
you surface me, dear,
like sea shells on sand-
tidal waves engulf
the shore like your grace
encompasses me-
grains of love remain…
TABLEAU PRINTS
5 syllables in each line
30 syllables total
howmanysyllables.com
Nette Onclaud
October 31, 2017
it is not easy to wake up happy
the young do
maybe
eyes have to adjust
focus inward
bring what is in there to the outside
so you can take a look at it
then there’s always yesterday to deal with
memory decodes
decides what lingers to hurt
or what can be forgiven
like as if it happened
now the body has its say
it pulls you in all directions
demands attention
then repays you with pain
you come to yourself
filtering through your own dawning
to where one moment can be held
steadily enough
for you to be this person
then
there it is
happiness
just like that
no reason
no cause
you grin behind hazy eyes
even though you still ache with this life
yet still want more of it
anyway
The most splendorous success was man landing on the moon
The most splendorous success was Christ Jesus surfacing on Earth
Yes: The most splendorous success was the moon meeting man
December eats whatever fat
the wind carries with it.
You imagine the windows, the drapes,
all rounded and curved,
no sharp corners in this ocean of you.
Short-lived circulating thoughts
glimmer and fade,
minnows darting from nowhere
to nowhere.
Your body-heat, fish-tails over
dark waves.
The cold is still too deep,
a dim dawning shore
still too far above you,
and so, you rise slowly
in the hollow shell
of a diving bell
you have yet to call your own.
Night is still in its diving bell.
Turn over the body-heat,
tuck head into a shoaling mind.
You imagine the window, the drapes,
the walls, the round walls
all fish-eyed and rising.
February eats whatever fat
the dawn carries with it.
Space fountains are thawing
in the drip of reality.
It is still too cold
for blood to be naked.
under the shade of a cyprus
my lover whispers sweet and tender nothings
revealing glimpses of a splintered heart
where wounds are still fresh
~ a healing process underway
AP: Honorable Mention 2025