Best Trajectories Poems
In China once
under a patched
sail canopy
at tables and stools
and later
alone
remembering days
when all
seemed all
important
the politics with friends
by day
and how the breeze
by night conspired
with
her golden hair.
Now I watch
the honey-draped fishing-dingies
return
like strays
of twilight
they glide in
sad-silence
finally to settle
in place
where they rock
gently
all night
under a surrender of stars.
Everything moving to its orbit
everything seperating in time
alone
all the mistakes
the misunderstandings
off on their own trajectories
fullfilling their own destinies
all but the waitress here
who moves still
like a silken dream
across the sea-dimmed floor
bringing pots of hot
chinese-tea
all night long
never saying a word
not a single word
just smiling
her knowing smile.
Categories:
trajectories, assonance, destiny, identity, loneliness,
Form:
Prose Poetry
all the pheromones circled around me
without knowing, we will gather you all
and we make a world
you draw like the silver treacherous snails
pressed intersections
some over others in translucent layers
ah, here, this is the time you said
and we gather around
all around
extreme words and states
I was photographing the world with one cyclopean eye
cramming it into one night
glasses, cups, plates
how many sets I broke
stockings how many pairs I broke
a silky mountain to circulate mathematical butterflies
invented by the statistics of the managers
on the thighs
and house noises
on the dress painted by your hug
we were young
we are working on an abyssal constellation
our bodies craved warmth
and the hugs
and expectations
friends were watching us too
getting under their skin I was growing
move forward
I made leaves and flowers
and they gave birth to other planets
and other trajectories
and other plans were intertwined
we cannot say that the walking has slowed down
and neither did I forget
I waited until everyone arrived
so far away
that no sound was heard
shouting from one to another
density increased and voices
they were impregnated as the leaves in the geological layers
one of us will have to come
from the future
to research them
to understand what I said today
so far we have each come
that
it will be necessary that on the wall of this embrace
to give birth to children
let's give birth to voices that forget us
Categories:
trajectories, beautiful, giving, happy, romance,
Form:
Free verse
In a ravaging mind
devoid of plain vision,
all purpose of motion
gets abandoned on hold
once losing that stable
clarity of judgment,
still paying off judgments
with tortures taxing mind;
gusts fill tissues stable
regardless of vision
to load each vessel hold
using sanguine motion.
I present my motion
to lungs before judgment,
proving walls never hold
since logic doesn’t mind
the destructive vision
in cosmic clues stable,
this teeming soul stable
directing with motion
doppelganger visions
sequestered for judgment
once prevalent in mind
with each mortal I hold.
Such trajectories hold
orbits rendered stable,
illusions of the mind
fooling sense of motion
despite viral judgment
from idols with vision
provoking this vision
enthralled in steady hold
until the Last Judgment
pulls apart my stable,
a tremolo motion
tearing the public mind.
Such judgments of vision
shall mind my living hold
stable in fierce motion.
Categories:
trajectories, allegory, imagination
Form:
Sestina
By Vicki Acquah on Thursday, April 18, 2013
Prince Kennedy & Oladeji Vicki Acquah
Disappeared
We- are gone
diluted into oblivion
we have nothing left but our footprints
The handwriting is no longer on the wall
The noses are broken off
we are no longer us
Obscurely written out of
life's script, no future roles to play.
The primitive man and all modern
day caveman - and sand men have
forgotten the people of the soil-and
the trees and the water and the mountains
women behaving _nonchalantly___
as they watch -us being erased;
Written out of history.
What is left of us
we who write poetry
that does not impress wealth,
they eat, we die -- they drink
we go thirsty, they make
merry with their Dirty sex;
While we imitate our exterminators.
we disappear with
broken noses and borrowed hair
We are no more.
Our costumes died
then our children
with no past and no future
we are no more~~~~
Now that we are being
created by our scribes;
penned down ages before we could
realize that our solemn but
equivocal art, superimposed
with fervent sentences bore
more intonations & meanings
than maidenly sought;
We lie within our meditative silences.
Reminiscing the helter,skelter and
dither, through which our stories
were told in words.
While the strokes by our quills
fade & shiver to sheer posterity
but eventful mileages;
We beseech this forthcoming generation
To voice out in unison the
unfinished phrases, but clauses
yet again.We are now no more.
Although there were a few scattered
prospects yet to be achieved;
we lie abed not asunder,
With no regret or fear or whatsoever
We are no more.
Only in fiction shall we meet
To play our parts with unsung aptitude.
As our styles are pursued;
Until then, we are no more.
As life still beckons on
with trajectories being preached
but sold,We pray you, this age
that celerity & glee fuel your
palms but gumption's with
deepened emotions & thinking caps.
As the die is cast,
Till the results are known;
We are now no more!
Categories:
trajectories, art, emotions, racism, writing,
Form:
Free verse
I arrived without clothes or fears at birth
but wore both within one year on earth;
in a crib, my self-esteem doubt blistered.
Since my initial vocal and mobile phase,
I played avoidance to eliminate critical
corrections that felt like imbecile rejections.
For two decades my fears fed anxieties
over disciplined, quick tempered males who
like my dedicated paternal man, could voice
wither my core sheaves in ‘less than’ wisps.
It took fifty rough years of soul aviation,
plus my faith’s aimed navigation thru
brutal life trajectories, to remind me
I have always been the perfect me blend.
Just here ‘till home again and fear’s but
an acronym: ‘false evidence appearing real.’
I am uniquely valuable, confident enabled
and I daily fear shed but, well – maybe I
should pen about bungee jumping instead?
... CayCay
September 16, 2019
Categories:
trajectories, anxiety, character, childhood, confidence,
Form:
Lyric
Alone,
the television muted
Thoughts float about on
shadowed wings
Faces with moving mouths appear,
nothing is heard
My mind collects itself,
slanted views
Trading happiness for solitude,
beneath spinning blades
Not sharp,
but constant like minutes
Time teaches unwanted lessons
erasing chalkboards and creating dust
There is a moon, I have seen it,
felt it, reached out to touch it
It lit your face
and I knew from that moment...
why
Who cares what color they say is in,
black is here in the silence
It flows effortlessly like satin,
stitched in memories and dreams
It tints the windows reflecting truth
Showing what has become,
glassed over situations
Blocking the moonlght,
shuttering desires
Burlap trajectories crashing
beyond the horizon
Fabricated realities for those awake
or those
alone
There is a moon, I have seen it
Then it was gone
Categories:
trajectories, dark, moon, solitude,
Form:
Free verse
What fire works
Fire works crackle crunch coagulate
send the guiding stars of darkness into space
from Phoenix to ashes ember amber empathy
forgotten exploding in the heart of unremembered kindness
A giant mushroom in the sky look carefully
you’ll only see it once this beautiful display
of melted cracking spirit humanity fusing by fission
all equality in times of death bonfire rockets Me
A perpetrator by collusion capitalized in self-importance
apathy inertia clever words semantic masturbation
pen in hand computer keyboards sending drones of hate
democracy fireworks for all into the ruins of compassion
Colourful a level playing field for splashing red
blood white bone meal yellow bile contaminated
black blue hematoma where brain once was
and the poppy sprouts the wars to end all wars
Some can afford the fireworks some lives matter
more than others in the sparkling pentagon of madness
enflame the lateral collateral transnational cooperation
of demise destruction disregard for guts and gore for asphyxiation
Taking in one last breath of invested greedy inconvenient truth
I stand by and by the way by the trajectories of fire works’ insane
obliteration and contra-pose love as first and last stand before the world
the words implode when gutsy poems won’t suffice and never have
05th June 2016
Categories:
trajectories, firework, humanity, planet,
Form:
Free verse
exclamation, which does nothing to stem dead locked high tide
proliferation of high-powered assault bazookas
manned by berserk cruel death eaters,
arch nemesis picks off life with a blip
simultaneously bipedal hominid(s) grip handily rounded dirk
as backup in case clip
misses mark, where siege mentality induces
nationwide sprinting into lockdown mode deterring by a drip
fiendish homicidal metamorphoses, where transmogrification
of generic guy wielding weapon subjugating hostages pits malignancy fill lip
mailer daemon hell bent on besieging bait (unaware
Snapchatting linkedin flickr ring beings) burst deadly quip
barrage of bullets malicious intent to spray
killing machines deliver click and rip
paying plenti deathly instagram howls amidst pandemonium,
thence funereal slip
epitaphs etched on tombstones proliferate taking souls to Hades trip.
Brutal and nasty nefarious scheme directed at humble lettered folks
(like those comprising my home town -
once evoked pastoral meme Lake Woebegone)
minding their p's and q's, when in extremis
out of the blue nightmare interrupts idyllic dream
a sudden bitta bing bitta bang rings terrorist catcall
followed by red tide and river of bloodied body where caskets
rendered veneer of dark wood within lies corpse,
pistol whipped, shredded and outkast, where mortician daubs creme.
Soundcloud boom echoes, thus occurs staccato sinister sonic strafes across
freshly fielded tombstone; pearl jam gray slate, some formerly anonymous
namesake, which underling, higgs bo son or daughter blitzkrieg cross
invisible trajectories shatter (at shutterfly speed),
democratic rubric rendered dross
disposable lives of society with senseless slaughter, whereat somber silence
pines nostalgia for Mill on the Floss
when life seemed innocent against gun metal gloss
wails of agony at another human loss.
Categories:
trajectories, absence, dark, faith, hate,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
If freshman year was aspirational
and sophomore year was unhinged
junior year was put up or shut up
and senior year is a dash to the finish line
This year’s on fast forward—and it’s for keeps
every to-do list has value-laden questions
things seem sharp edged, single use and intense
it’s all about trajectories and ‘landing spots”
Let’s wax poetic..
Produce now, or spend fury on thyself—all else is untenable
we’re past youth and ignorance—your honour’s at stake
Suitors call you by name, like well-acquainted friends
they took your measure—you’re beyond the mark of others
they seduce with money—the future brings liberty and noble deeds.
So don the the garland and prove thyself—take the field
join the battle—now’s the reward—aidless, perpetual toil
with every motion be right, it’s thy shunless destiny.
.
.
A song for this:
A Man of Great Promise by The Style Council
Headstart For Happiness by The Style Council
Categories:
trajectories, career, future, humor, judgement,
Form:
Rhyme
4/10/17
Presently
You all stay in my memories
I wonder if my family and friends will remember me
And if not, then I'll just let it be
Respectfully
To you all I'm sending out positive vibes and energy
For the span of the century
Bless you all and may you remain heavenly
Hold on steadily
Think cleverly
While using every sensory
Especially when in times of jeopardy
After learning from something exemplary
Often I was doing things rudimentary
Yet effectively
Whether or not using some accessory
Due to habits and tendencies
Many times I bought alcohol and things from the dispensary
The cycle was going on endlessly
I've been my own worst enemy
Not always thinking sensibly
But rather recklessly
With my extemities, strength, determination, wisdom and integrity
Got to work towards serenity
While following my destiny
And occasionally taking time for reverie
Near and far from any effigy
Things happen unexpectedly
Sometimes involving complexity
Yet they just may turn out successfully
And lead to something amazing incredibly
That inspires you tremendously
Or it just may turn out unpleasantly
Objects moving at different trajectories
At speeds of more or less than seventy
Do not have intentions of treachery
Or jealousy
Over such pitiful and petty reasons essentially
I like learning new recipes
Regardless of if it has celery
Or sesame
Allegedly
Smart decisions and choices just may lead to longevity
By: Dalton Ogletree
Categories:
trajectories, poetry, rap, word play,
Form:
Rhyme
Luminescence reigns down on me
Trajectories will hit and miss
What lies within the vast abyss
The stars that form our galaxy
Amazing from their birth to death
Such brilliant sights can take your breath
Cosmic debris just floating free
Apophis, a collision course
An asteroid feels no remorse
Torino scale, the chance will be
Predictions aren't always right
Ponder what's in the Hubble's sight
Astronomers just wait to see
Then warn us of impending fate
Perhaps then it will be too late
The Constanza, created by Connie Marcum Wong, consists of five or more 3-line stanzas.
Each
line has a set meter of eight syllables. The first lines of all the stanzas can be read
successively as an
independent poem, with the rest of the poem weaved in to express a deeper meaning. The
first lines
convey a theme written in monorhyme, while the second and third lines of each stanza
rhyme together.
Rhyme scheme: a/b/b, a/c/c, a/d/d, a/e/e, a/f/f.........etc.
Categories:
trajectories, space
Form:
Endorphin power is about positive politics;
it votes with little fading feet running away from negative politics
and WinLose competing economies of victimization,
marginalization.
Stress, dissonance, competitive over-indulgence are toxic
including to the abundant production of endorphin,
which, like its endo-morphine namesake,
creates a peaceful co-empathic trust feeling
that it's safe to believe all is well,
has become well,
and will continue well,
both endo-symbiotically and ecto-symbiotically.
Paranoia eats endorphin,
lays it to waste,
mows our mojo down,
while pronoia feeds shy endorphans
what they swellfully appreciate receiving,
especially if they need not ask,
Please Sir, may I have some more?
Mutual helping,
cooperative games and strategies,
regenerate pronoia invitations into each Earth day,
or maybe an hour,
or just a moment at a time until time evaporates,
builds deep sensory awareness of WinWin ecopolitical,
social and cultural and climate health trajectories,
well being inclusive of future generations
already flowing their/your imaginations
through your champion endo-chemistries.
So pronoia-healthy politics
incarnates cooperative economic intentions, designs,
structures and plans,
networks and gestalts and climates,
regeneratively
deeply ingrained
of/for ego-self optimizing through eco-self-identity-emptying,
through helpful health-wealth production with and for Others.
Our most fluid full-strength Yang egos are those most ecopolitically abundant
performing, practicing, intending endorphin driven and derived health
as we expand our ecoconsciousness of self-therapy with other co-mentoring therapists,
some of us comically bad at producing more confluence than dissonance,
but all of us doing our best
to extend our endorphin-provoking family empathic trust
back through regenetic recombinant reiterative history of time's enlightenment ourselves,
stories embodied within each organic turn of Earth years,
and forward toward shared endorphin ecopolitics
regenerating multiculturally positive therapeutic futures,
which also degenerate
absorb
endorphin traces erasing monoculturally negative pasts.
Endorphins swell power-with helping,
not condemning or faulting or neglecting, others
toward ecopolitically healthy wealth abundance.
Categories:
trajectories, beauty, confidence, earth, happiness,
Form:
Political Verse
It's hard to talk
From inside this box,
You won't see me dance
But I will advance.
I am a dreamer
With a quiet demeanor,
I've got to fly
To see stars in my eye.
Sleek metal surrounds me,
Super engines propel me
While I compute trajectories
Taking you to destinies
Beyond the Milky Way.
Image: Pixabay
Categories:
trajectories, science fiction,
Form:
Rhyme
The Drift
by Odin Roark
How far such distance?
One’s birth is so innocent
Only to be lifted
Set alight to learn gravity
Where emotions
Intellect
Transcendence
All vie for a bit of influence
Such small minds
Of gaping eyes
Gaze at the unknown
While adults
Parents
Teachers
Clergy
Smile
Announce without foresight
Welcome!
So goes the drift
That levitational ricochet
Set up by massive influences
Bumping
Pulling
Shoving
Trajectories destined for…
Who knows?
Unknown reason
Becomes one’s journey
Even though some assume an answer
Wisdom suggests
We may not have a clue
Nature doesn’t play the same games
Human species wallow in
Our intelligence betrays us
Tricks us into believing
We have the answer
When all along
What if there be no confirmations
Only delusional answers?
Will we still plod forward
Believing we can overcome
The enigmatic gravitational force
That which often pulls our heart down
Usually into sadness
Our mind
Usually into crushing disappointment
Our souls…
Well
I’ll leave that to the supernaturally bright
The elite who know not drifting
At least not until…
Categories:
trajectories, life,
Form:
Free verse
Balveen Cheema
The winter breeze blows
When I walk down to work
Carrying me a decade back
When you and I unfolded some leaves
On the eve of my departure
From your southern home.
The cool moonbeams walked into our room
As we sat on your bulky cushioned floor
With flowing curtains throughout the chilly night
Drowning mugs and mugs of coffee
Talking out our incomplete lines.
Much of the cooled trajectories on our shoulders that had
Intervened between our joys and bottomless burdens
Nurturing our hunched backs
Were roughed out for smoother walks
To view the twinkling lighted city behind us.
~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~
Categories:
trajectories, drink, light, wind, winter,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue