Best Tangents Poems


Premium Member - Happiness Come and Go -


          It is the glittery eyes of your
          that cause my heart to find nourishment

          You do not see my searching eyes
          Feels like I'm swimming in an ocean all alone

          Is there a formula for happiness - life's fragile tangents
          Let the roses live and let the thorns quietly die

          You are beautiful like a pearl in the oyster
          I was just a friend when you needed a shoulder to cry on

          I can read your divine and the powerful face
          My great love which was awakened by longing ... is dead

          Along with my thoughts I throw red the rose petals on the sea
          Is it the past or the future that cause the blood flowing






  * ("Some cause happiness wherever they go;. Others, whenever they go" 
       - Oscar Wilde)

      Sponsor: Giorgio V.
      Contest Name: Relate your poem to one of these Quotes 
      Deadline:1/2/2014 12:00:00 AM



03.12.2013
A-L Andresen :)

(1st place in the contest)

Premium Member Getting To Know You

So nice talking to people, on same frequency as me
Builds up my confidence, whilst decreasing insanity 
Sometimes feel I’m the only one, seeking out truths
Then I meet some kindred spirits, here on the soup

They come from all walks of life, different countries 
Northern hemisphere and one below, I’ve yet to see 
We hold similar outlooks, based on past difficulties 
Seem to understand each other, through our poetry 

Sharing dark secrets, releasing pent up adversity
But most of the time, encouraging helpful fantasy 
We inspire crazy poems, bouncing off each other 
Not copying, creating, following tangents to discover 

Are we friends, I guess we are, certainty not enemies 
Honestly doesn’t matter, when enjoying good company 
Aw he’s filling up, no just finishing yesterday’s dinner 
I’m a freethinker, a rogue-poet of sorts, yeah a sinner. 

POTW December 2020
By David Kavanagh 

Sponsored by: John Hamilton 06/01/2020

Premium Member what makes one


          life seeks an outcome 
        with potential to become 
          many things and none 
    death itself ~ never quite done 
      tangents determine the sum

By
David Kavanagh


Premium Member Lifeline

the power
of a single word
of encouragement
a single moment
that to the core
transforms your life

launching it 
in new directions
one surprise after another
life full of such moments
each lifeline looking
much more like a zigzag
than a line

a series of 
linked tangents
a sequence of
nothing inconsequential
found in the power
of a single word



Published in my 24-page photo/anthology book ~STAY TRUE~ 2023

AP: Honorable Mention 2020

Eye of the Eye

I'm witnessed
      and I feel that I can hope
   but I disappear again
 into infinite constellations 
that don't contain me

to risk just being 
    an ever reaching hand
  in an endless fall

       can there be meaning in flux
   if time cannot be stopped 
and I cannot be stilled

there are all ways and none ~

a cascade of push, pull and feeling
        an ache that resolves itself

I am absolved 
     so easily in tangents
so dramatically in execution
  but painfully 
        devolved of awareness

   undone almost too far
             concern for that state 
       the solo undoing

until once again
       I cry out in the darkness
needing to be someone else's vision
           wanting not reflection 
     but anothers lens

  it is but a sedative
and my brain and blood
          the very air
    is muddled by it

my wish to be shaped 
          preventing form
being moved 
   creating stagnation

everything exists
beneath entrapped screams 

      I can absorb yet be weightless
  conditioning
      be cast off

            there is nothing
                  at the heart
  of vastness

let me be the space 
       in-between ripped seams
a free flowing breath
   that returns to a lung
to expand, contract 
              travels outwards
    never retreats

I am once again ~
when I admit

         unburdened awakening

    lessons not from man
but from the wilderness

empty and erase me

        inevitable persistence
my only container

all this
      in the time
    that I am allowed

The Floor Planers

the unenacted mental dialogue 
          of just surveying the scene
     we can
 trace 
    the 
      lines
           of where nowhere goes
uninterrupted 
      but for the private tangents 
   in my head -
           I may share the cheap wine
      ask to be guided
           in how to use the tools
or just inhale what I see
       taking the raised temperature of the room
   away with me to ponder 

I'm so glad I paid you for your time
          as I didn't want to get my hands dirty
     but I do like witnessing 
              the tricks of the trade.

Inspired by The Floor Planers painted by Gustave Caillebotte


Mathematical Love

I decide not to worry about the parallelness
Of the tangents to the circles of our life story
The equation of the curve of my initial decision
Of you being my number tan45 was differentiated
As the union of your sets and conditions of your answers
Of your reply did not intersect with the tangent of the circle of my love
I integrated my mind and heart
So as to eliminate your love
But eliminating substituted  the simultaneous equation involving you and I
Using completing two squares in solving the quadratic equation 
Involving you was impossible
The almighty formula came into sight
When you factorized the algebra of you mind and heart
Making the line of your evergreen heart
Intersect perpendicularly at the center 
Of the diameter of my life journey
You have rotated my life 180degrees clockwise
© Ntim Evans  Create an image from this poem.

Beyond the Grid

1.

Whenever the truest edge doesn’t hold,
Another existence it does belie.
When causality is a broken line,
Unseen variable has cracked the mold.

Simple cause and effect gets in trouble
Abstruse patterns underlie life’s events.
Straight Euclidean angles and tangents
Reveal deep truth when they twist and bubble.

Infinite weaving of the light and dark,
That from which all matter derives its form, 
That from which all shades and colors are born,
Folding, animated by unseen spark:

Zero Point made of unbound potential.
Infinity in nothing, essential.

2.

A cause contains more than it alleges.
If all you can see are random events,
Assume that it must be coincidence
Occam’s razor it seems has two edges

The surface, outer manifestation
The solid, visible three dimensions
Concentrate, more enters your attention:
Substance beyond the realm of sensation.

Bursting through material pretension,
What unimaginable things are hid
Beyond the visible Cartesian grid
To unfold from another dimension?

The depth remains unseen, passes us by
Except in dreams, when the mind’s eye can fly.

3/23/16
Hybrid Italian/Shakespearean Sonnets
Abba cddc effe gg (x2)

Poet's Oath

I explore the tangents of my mind,
to expand the horizon of my kind,
my kin, my friends in sin sublime,
who drink the same wine of wisdom of word,
of noun, subject, adjective, verb,
pronoun, in these we are never perturbed,
preposition, conjunction, we know their function,
and thrive to master the craft through expression,
blessed-curse, we dig deep into our phrase purse,
and scream through time our declaration of passion.

Both Sides Now Humorous Satire

To be sung to the tune of Both Sides Now by Judy Collins

Rows and rows of subtrahends
Repeating decimals without end
Regression lines to mark a trend
	I've looked at numbers that way

But now they only add up wrong
Even though I stayed up all night long
Like missing words in someone's song
	Words that seem to say


	chorus
	I've looked at numbers from both sides now
	From left and right and still somehow
	It's numbers' illusions I recall
	I really don't know numbers at all


Secants, tangents, arc-cosines
It seems like just a game sometimes
What's my number, what's my line?
	I've looked at trig that way.

Now all my graphs have gone awry
I've lost the will to find out why
Perhaps they'll make more sense by 'n' by
	But who am I to say?


	chorus
	I've looked at trig from both sides now
	From up and down and still somehow
	It's  trig's illusions I recall
	I really don't know trig at all




Edited 5/9/2016
Written 7/14/1986
© John Mudge  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Watching Homer Struggle

Watching Homer struggle
to explain how a god wounded by a mortal
cannot die but may hereafter live with minor pain

and the humor when that god
complains to Jove that His supervision of His daughter
is inadequate and His Love too unconditional

while Diomed (or Tydides)
wreaks havoc on the Trojans and Hector
gives it back (in kind)

anatomically correct descriptions
of spears piercing jawbones (and groins)
sons without fathers hunting and fishing thereafter

alone. Written
amazingly presciently!
as a metaphor for Vietnam (our war)

forgotten consensually
as this generation slips lazily away
to Hades (or kayaks to the huckleberries)

where the lights are always blue, gentian actually,
supper's served at 4 and former adversaries
pass the heavy hanging time playing pinochle (and pool).

We're selling the house to pay the taxes.
Pallas Athena wars among the men
from the axle of her chariot

and Venus is injured by Diomed,
standing in the field of battle where she never should have been,
in her adorable hand.

What has this to do with Solomon in jail.
Not the Jewish king, a black American male,
same thing.

Your children can be failed at school and marched to war.
You can be taxed and sent to gaol for the honor of it.
anyone lived in a pretty how town.

We have no obligation
to perform the Iliad or read poems and even Homer
considers Achilles effete (compared to Hector)

and Odysseus is wrong even when he's right.
Therefore, modern man explores
the mathematics of circles in coordinate planes and their tangents

when (sooner or later)
the secret of warp speed is discovered
expansion of the species will be limitless and permanent.

Premium Member On Devil's Night

On Devil’s Night

There once was a devil queen  on Whispering Lane
Mean and cunning her crew driven insane
For millenniums hurling malice 
Content in her palace
Casting a malevolent muse throughout her reign

The King no longer amused by sonnets that shame
Concoction’s of besmirchment  tangents that defame
He sends for his men
Calls out to them
bring me an enchanted quill before the sunrise flame                                                  
                                            
On Devil’s Night…

Along  trails a fairy ascends with cascading red hair
Whilst  devil queen sleeps inside her musky lair    
Dreams of incantations
linking locution associations
Hater of poetry that allures not hers drives despair                                                                  

As the fairy sings with an angel's voice
The King listens he has made his choice
Let it be so my loyal Jester
the fairy you‘ll sequester
The zealous Jester lures to come rejoice!

The jealous devil queen a tedious word crafter 
Responsible for cancelling laughter
Now casts her spell
expelling the fairy to hell
It’s there she sings her happily ever afters   
	
You see she was in a realm from hell, and not even a spell could save her.
The new reign of elect it is when she’s saved, and the devil queen will finally                                                     reflect.  Denouncing her kingdom and foreboding.
Keep Fairys free! To express their poetic revery
© I Am Anaya  Create an image from this poem.

Walls, a Mental Illness Memoir

feel so heavy,
Weighed down by an anchor
No one can physically see.
I'm expected to be okay
To live a normal life 
While dealing with a 
chemical imbalance,
An emotional disturbance 
Whose presenting symptoms are
Self destructive binges 
And manic tangents
That have labeled me reckless 
And often left me stranded.
I dive head first into 
Waves crashing 
Tearing it's way through 
The walls I've built.
My fortress is unstable
There are weak spots
And some stains have
Remained.
These walls sometimes feel
Like they are 40 miles tall
And forged of steel
In that very moment 
I feel so alone...
When surrounded by people 
When introduced to anyone or anything new,
When one those new additions
causes changes to the flow 
Of things 
Who Dares to get too close or
challenge the authenticity 
Of my disorders
By questioning my mental state. 
Surely,
There's truth to the trauma,
Or it wouldn't continuously bother me
Causing catastrophic events,
Filling my head with memories
that never seem to end.
My mind short

Love of Geometry

I have fun with the world of geometry
The square, the rectangle and the parallelogram
Oh' the trapezoid and the rhombus
The triangles, the isosceles and the equilateral 
All are a great tight family together
The circles and ellipses are closely related
The formulas of geometry try to memorize
The areas and circumferences
The diagonals and angles
For the trigonometric functions 
You discover a new world 
The sines and cosines
The tangents and arc tangents
If all this is not enough to entice you
Most probably now you fell in love with geometry

Scary Monsters

Luminescent shadows follow me around, but vanish as I ask who’s there?
Scary monsters and super creeps wait on every corner; a voice whispers beware
I start running I’m trying to gather pace; I’m running faster and faster but I hardly move
The faster I run the slower the cadence becomes; asks the whisper what do you have to prove?

Am I running from monsters past or ghosts hiding in the future?
I turn my head frantically to listen; the whisper is faint in the viscous ether
My pillow absorbs my drenching sweat, my legs kick and run, no stable ground
Frightened heartbeats, timid murmurs beg for reprieve, no more whisper, I can’t hear the gentle sound

Images changing proportions, gravitation bending scary faces
Electromagnetic transformations, shadows form a gigantic ghost
No awakening, remain in your abyss, where is the whisper I need most
My consciousness is chained by subconscious spectres; confront the phantom, the chains do not break
Oh gentle whisper cut me loose, help me to these images forsake

Collisions, particles bombarding subliminal pores, expose my soul to ricochets of guilt, conflict, pain
Prescribed orbits, predetermined order or tangents of love and desire
What to do, whisper to me, I am become insane

I spiral down into depths unknown to conscious science
More scary monsters, more super creeps, more shadows changing hue
Awake from this abysmal torture, send a whisper, bring me back to you
Sticky ghouls and distant memories collide with alpha particles and gamma rays
Chromatic aberrations confuse my vision and distort awaiting silhouettes
I too collide, I too am distorted as I enter the chasm where the mind forgets

Subatomic beings coagulate as memories; juries of demons saturate gaseous mixtures
Bubbles and froth and osmotic spirits, hallucinations from black and white pictures
Parallel curves and helical lines bend and warp my mind, I cry I scream I want I need, break free!
No space no time no light no sound no love; guilty condemnation, empty reality

The central singularity beckons, no return from unconscious waste
Anonymous fields bind me, commanding struggle to abate
Dimensionless objects, cold physics, primordial fear; Nightmare, no reprieve, take me to my fate.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace