Best Symmetries Poems
The cathedral is adorned
with wonderful stained glass windows
Each piece is unique
framed in lead
They reminiscent of
countless gorgeous patterns
in a kaleidoscope
- with many different symmetries
A work of art with aesthetic value
which often tells a story
Catching rays of sunlight
in all the colors of the rainbow
Even if it rains
light shines through
Artists are not so different,
at times glossing over truth,
hiding beneath a sheen --
some extra linseed goes
a long way...
What is this cry for realism?!
Picasso sought deeper meaning
via grotesque breasts~ elongated
elephant snout limbs -- perhaps believing that
the human tale needed elevation, himself
turned off by surface vistas; his squares and
points dulled by well turned chips, projected
missile-scraps flying from Leonardo's festive lathe of
tantalizing symmetries --
We marvel equally at
Dali's vaulted extremes, teetering balance --
a bleeding martyr of old Faith; despite all his
fiend distortions, imagined glorification~
dear, yet mere echoes, stills from the sable of
an unrequited Christian brush --
So...is the poet so different?
The Metaphysical digs, tunnels,
(anthropomorphic God)
chambers and catacombs to romp
about -- secretly displacing what
would otherwise be a straightforward
pleasant lyrical walk -- We
confound paint and words
presenting two types of portrait
of the same elusive image
the greater decipher, if there is
one to be had, will never be the
product of personal tribulation,
but the spirit behind, within, carefully
feathering, dotting and dashing
each of man's extended biographies --
a dance of human veils....
Out of the Box
In symmetrical symmetries lies the cradle of creation
For we are the residual residue of ancient agnation
As we look through the looking geometrical glass
We see the pinnacle primeval majestic mass
Of vastness vibrations in reality illusions
The Golden Mean of symmetry’s solutions
All is revealed in the cosmic cube of Metatron
Matriarchal manifestations of the dimensional dawn
Spiritual spiral strings of Sacred Geometry
All things equal in the synchronized symphony
Like a jumping Jack inside the bilateral box
We take a peak when Heaven kindly knocks.
Updated...
Dec.28.2016
Out of the Box - Contest
Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann
The long skies of Scotland,
Kaleidoscopic
Mixtures of liquid and gas,
Cinematic palettes,
Watercolored squalls
Blowing over, like hearts,
From odious troubles,
Into tartan landscapes,
Highland symmetries
Of epic hills, Monro's
In staggering lines, give
Relief as gorse yellows
Sparkle, and heathers
Define the boundaries,
Of Scottish pride, oh yes
A preserve of esthetics,
Untamed, unclaimed remains,
Half eaten, abandoned
To the wild, centuries of
Warrior blood and thistle.
From a big 737's porthole looking down
upon rows of endless, barren mountains,
from the clouds to the wadis I descend
unto thy waiting arms among the dunes.
Far in the middle of a vast wasteland
right in Arabia's remote Empty Quarter,
searching for black gold hardy men toil
amid howling winds and scorching sun.
As rugged machines wander wildly free
like tireless armies of booms and steel,
proud towering rigs on lonely oil wells
bore deep into earth's generous bosoms.
In desolation removed from the world,
striking symmetries on shifting sands!
behold the shy beauty of prickly shrubs
on quiet hillsides waiting for discovery.
While hues of softly changing colors rest
on sunlit peaks and hills by the shadow,
footprints I will leave on yielding ground,
faint traces that the wind shall soon erase.
Oh, just to frolic in these steep slopes
flat on my belly on a cardboard ship!
amazed finding that by just being here
takes me back to a childhood long ago.
Shaybah, in coming I did not conquer
for it’s you etching imprints in my brain,
marveling why beauty and riches often
lay hidden in isolation, it seems.
Note:
Shaybah is a newly discovered oil field
deep in Arabia's Empty Quarter, one of
the most desolate places on earth.
How beautiful my fig tree is, truly,
It is shaped like the arches of a cathedral,
In a verticality, full of symmetries,
Let me fall in love with my fig tree,
He seems to think deeply like Socrates,
It seems to stop time, like a statue,
On the light that is like birds,
Let me fall in love with my fig tree,
How beautiful my fig tree is, surely,
He seems to caress the beauty of the world, then
He appeases the city of its natural tranquility,
Let me fall in love with my fig tree,
My fig tree has more secrets than me, baby
It includes the silence of happy women,
Its leaves like fans capture the wind,
Reflect the immense serenity of the jealous sun,
Let me fall in love with my fig tree.
Qu’il est beau mon figuier, vraiment,
Il se dessine comme les arches d’une cathédrale,
Dans une verticalité, pleine de symétries,
Laissez-moi tomber amoureux de mon figuier,
Il semble penser profondément comme Socrate,
Il semble arrêter le temps, comme une statue,
Sur la lumière qui se pose comme des oiseaux,
Laissez-moi tomber amoureux de mon figuier,
Qu’il est beau mon figuier, assurément,
Il semble caresser la beauté du monde, puis
Il apaise la ville de son immobilité naturelle,
Laissez-moi tomber amoureux de mon figuier,
Mon figuier a plus de secrets que moi, chérie,
Il comprend le silence des femmes heureuses,
Ses feuilles telles des éventails capturent le vent,
Reflètent la sérénité immense du soleil jaloux,
Laissez-moi tomber amoureux de mon figuier.
A Cimmerian hue overlaps
The thoughts encroaching my psyche
They seem to harvest labyrinthine symmetries
Of which I covet
It matters not the appositeness
The unidentified may bear
For by passages of valor I transcend
Systemic symmetries of destruction,
gorging with thoughtless consumption…
Within the bowls of corruption,
enslaved by the sanguinary skins of seduction…
Butterflies bloom to demonic deeds,
of the feeding frenzy that surely bleeds…
Voices that spread their saintly seeds,
only entrapped within wrangled weeds.
Fake media the soup of the day,
cabalistic constructing illusions they portray…
While the appetites of the abysm display,
as the deceptive delusions foreplay…
Habitual hunger that they manifest,
of the manic misconceptions we ingest…
For we suckle on the beastly breast,
as they occupy the obedient oppressed.
Jan.04.2019
Food for thought
Sponsored by: Silent One
Placed 2'nd...Thank You
POETICS in PROGRESS
a discourse we don
ornamted speech
eloquent oratory aloud
seminal ideas
in pillars of poetics
a dialogue delivered
feelings aroused
from slumber
by symmetries of sequences
soliloquised
persuasion intertwined in poesy
perceptions personified
arrayed&adorned
in audible orations
of
experimental sound&
sense
freewheeling
sensable
becoming sententious
loose language codified
yet
open ended
figures of speech
of arrested moments
denotative&
syntactical of
preliterate tradition
solo
but
not self conscious
or
self orientated
words freed
to float & hover&
find a home
a random place to rest
a refuge for letter
sound-images
to
stimulate a reply
a discourse
ornamted speech
eloquent oratory aloud
seminal ideas
in pillars of poetics
a dialogue delivered
feelings aroused
from slumber
by symmetries of sequences
soliloquised
persuasion intertwined in poesy
perceptions personified
arrayed&adorned
in audible orations
of
experimental sound&
sense
freewheeling
sensable
becoming sententious
loose language codified
yet
open ended
figures of speech
of arrested moments
denotative&
syntactical of
preliterate tradition
solo
but
not self conscious
or
self orientated
words freed
to float & hover&
find a home
a random place to rest
a refuge for letter
sound-images
to
stimulate a reply
Mysterious Christmas Tree
Far away on top of rounding mountain
Pine trees gather in the open snow
Twisting roads lead the children's sleds
Equipped with axes sharp, soon to perform
At dawn the boys and girls arrive
Seeking symmetries perfection
Selecting the best Christmas tree is blinding
When the gusting winds prevail and blow
A gold beacon small appears to dance
Above a gentle thick tree near the ledge
The children chop it down with care
Carry it away with light in tow
One snow flake after another follows in the glow
As they go down
A canary sojourned my garden
the hunger whispering from its eyes
greeting my palm with
affectionate nibbles of gratitude
whilst circling the symmetries
of my palm
it sprang forth in merriment
a concluding chirp transpired
and away it flew
a discourse we done
ornamted speech
eloquent oratory aloud
seminal ideas
in pillars of poetics
a dialogue delivered
feelings aroused
from slumber
by symmetries of sequences
soliloquised
persuasion intertwined in poesy
perceptions personified
arrayed&adorned
in audible orations
of
experimental sound&
sense
freewheeling
sensable
becoming sententious
loose language codified
yet
open ended
figures of speech
of arrested moments
denotative&
syntactical of
preliterate tradition
solo
but
not self conscious
or
self orientated
words freed
to float & hover&
find a home
a random place to rest
a refuge for letter
sound-images
to
stimulate a reply
A prophecy arose
Within the silhouette of dawn
how the hollow skylines pirouette
along fate’s bowels
gliding in smooth succession
Whilst sampling memories
of Japanese cherry blossoms
moths fervently surround
Diverse symmetries
of porch lights
Reveries
The leaves expose their arteries,
Through which all summer, only one life has elapsed.
The thirsty Earth penetrates all the stories of their last breath.
it would have resisted, and maybe it wouldn't have been Autumn...
But them love the violence of hungry mouths the eyes hidden in the ground,
breaking out in a mess nudity. .
As a mere mortal, I build a room in the tomb...
there are voices calling me,
voices who condemn me...
As long as I had a life,
I used to be loved!
I am a leaf with endless symmetries.
Resisted the scream of deer in dew, too,
the deaf gallop of Poseidon horses
I fed on improvised loves,
To unknown fountains...
I have died so many times and same many times I have been reborn..
I am a leaf with endless symmetries...
Sturdy during all seasons.