Best Undistinguished Poems
The passing years
through trembling fingers slip,
like worry beads
unsurely strung
along life’s fraying thread.
Sages, seers and cynics peer
and say when it will snap,
but why regard the
sing-song whine of those who
seldom glimpse their own demise?
Mysteries and magic
ventures, bold and tragic—
reason, rhyme and rhetoric—
will someday undistinguished lie
inside life’s tome, its legion seals intact.
But should some day a mighty hand
this fearsome book disturb
and turn the page that lets me fly,
on fairest wings of reborn time
I’d soar and find my way back home.
Categories:
undistinguished, nostalgia, self, time,
Form:
Free verse
The coastal lighthouses, intervening
in many dangerous undercurrents.
it's beacon interacts vigorously
as vessel realigns, manoeuvring
past many obstacles undistinguished
by any obvious visionary.
So sailing faultlessly, continuing
home without treacherous impediments
Penned 19 September 2014 by Seren Roberts
Categories:
undistinguished, sea,
Form:
Verse
Good poetry is like an Old Master
Crafted with expert skill imbued with soul
No abstracted throwaway disaster
Or a bland undistinguished casserole
Of poor ingredients cooked up faster
And deposited in the toilet bowl
No, it should stimulate the appetite
And explode in the mind like dynamite
Good poetry should stand the test of time
Like great art it should make your spirit soar
Made memorable by structure and by rhyme
Utilizing simile, metaphor
Allegory and precise words that chime
Never should its contents the reader bore
Linking thoughts and ideas that one can quote
More than just a run-of-mill anecdote
Good poetry conveys thoughts in a way
That prose cannot - however full of wit
As a good photo brilliant in its way
Rarely reveals the person who took it
But a crafted poem - like a Monet
Should bear its creator’s mark and transmit
A recognition of the poet’s style
Whether it’s limited or versatile
Good poetry is like a single malt
Aged in a golden sherry cask of oak
With which a connoisseur can find no fault
Redolent of heather and peaty smoke
So, any poets worthy of their salt
Should let thoughts marinate, mature and soak
And distil them once, twice or even thrice
Before serving neat sans water or ice
Categories:
undistinguished, image, imagery, poems, poetry,
Form:
Ottava rima
Whispered.
A sound undistinguished,
forcing the ears to listen
more intently,
giving the mind, flashing
images of the whisperer.
We both know only you and I
are here.
We both know neither you, nor I
spoke, full voice or
in a whisper.
The animals caught it, too,
lifting their heads to the sound.
A low, rumbling growl, is emitted by the
dog, as hair on his back rises.
The hairs on my arms and neck rise, too,
in response to the sound.
A cold chill enters the room
and we look at each other,
sure someone has entered,
though the doors are locked
and we see no one.
If a mind can travel in fear,
to respond to imagined words,
how far can it travel in joy?
Locked in the parlor, not
wishing to move to the whisper;
in joy I'd travel to the moon and
beyond.
Yet here we are, choosing to be frozen
by fear.
Categories:
undistinguished, mysterytravel,
Form:
Free verse
Released into an opening of warmth
and mystery, he melded with the throng
of his undistinguished peers,
their number seeming infinite,
their ultimate design one and the same.
And as they forward streamed,
rapidly, they scattered and disappeared into oblivion.
He found himself alone, beyond them all.
Employing mere instinct, he traveled on to
monumental possibility.
He did not yet have the capability
to smell the rose perfume
worn by her who was to be his mother
nor was he able then to hear
endearments whispered in her ear
by him, from whom he'd been released.
But as the moans of two in love subsided,
already he had reached that unnamed place.
Consummation led to an inception
when he merged with his female half.
Although he could not know it then,
he soon would be adored,
the fond expression of his parents’ dream.
For john freeman's contest:
"Maverick's Free Verse"
Categories:
undistinguished, love, nature,
Form:
Free verse
This poem was too long to submit without premium membership, so I have submitted it in two parts, but it is meant to be read together.
Part one....
They say he is clearly psychotic, if knowing that was even a possibility.
The visible signs are all present, his behavior is a dead give away.
"Normal" people don't act this way, they act like everybody else.
When did being different, become the diagnosis of being clinically insane?
Their image of "normal" is repeatedly drilled into our heads.
Through the direction of our leaders, our education, multi-media.
The television and cinema screen their greatest tools for propaganda.
A man and his lovely wife, with their two point five children,
A duplex in the suburbs, undistinguished from any of the others.
a neatly trimmed lawn, a few hedges, a two car garage for their one vehicle.
A couple truly in love, rarely do they argue, with great sexual chemistry.
Working constantly through the better part of their lifetimes
making enough money to pay their bills, and splurge once a week.
their companies CEO, the bill collectors, and the government's tax brackets,
all work together in unison, to ensure that they are never more than comfortable.
At the age of sixty-five, they have a small nest egg saved up together.
Only now, well into their "golden years," are they allowed to live as they choose.
Their biggest motivation and desire, is simply to survive for another year.
When they die, their children discover they have no money in their accounts.
It always is a shock, revealing your parents have died completely broke.
Ideal examples of the perfect "American Marriage," left penniless in their grave.
Luckily for the children, they had purchased a small life insurance policy.
The payout almost exactly enough to cover the burial costs and funeral.
Even experiencing this unsettling revelation at their parents expense,
These same children are pre-destined, doomed, to follow suit.
Brain washed into believing that their outcome will somehow be better.
They spent less, saved up more, purchased a better insurance policy.
Unaware their parents shared these exact thoughts, forty years prior.
Categories:
undistinguished, abuse, allusion, betrayal, freedom,
Form:
Prose Poetry
The marvel, the all-knower make days the
Sanctuary for all who live,day within days:
Twenty four periods during which the earth total
Rotation on it axis,days arrive like crows in the field
Of stubble corn,in days we born,in days we cry
And laugh,in days we sucked our mother's breast
In days we sleep and wake,in days we grow
In days we do our dally activities,in days we get
Married,in days we gave birth to our infant baby
In days we acquire our needs
In days we count time,day,week,month and year
Days dropped away like honey of a spoon
Days follow one another in an undistinguished
Series, growing and then fade like leave on the tree
In days we gone
Our days run as fast a way as does the rain
Coming from the sky
Days were truly endless and seemed like
A single black night.
May/2/2015
Contest: Days
Sponsor by Thomas Martin.
Categories:
undistinguished, addiction, adventure, allegory, angel,
Form:
Free verse
Some are sparks
Some are the sparks from a Parliament bonfire,
That fly ever upwards to spin and whirl
amongst the stars and then are extinguished,
falling as a fleck of ash to lie amongst many
in a grey layer, undistinguished one from the other.
And there are a few, so very few, whose spark
Reaches the dark sky and lives amongst the
Heavenly stars that shine over centuries,
Remaining undimmed, lighting our way through
Life and love, and damnation of our souls.
So the Bard of Avon shines above, even four centuries
beyond his bones mouldering in some riverside grave,
Honoured in the exhilaration of performance,
In the strut and fret of hours upon a million stages,
In the warmth that spreads in the breast with his words.
Words. His gift to humankind. Resonances in the
Fabric of minds, harmonies with our daily conversations,
He speaks to our souls, to the innermost being,
Our core, our culture, our language, and to the
World, to all of humanity, in every place.
He speaks to me and I lay myself at his feet,
In awe at his facility and originality, magician
Of words; and I strive to create as he
Might have done, knowing that I am but a
Nervous acolyte to his command.
There is this insistent command from within
To speak as he did, to create the elegant structure
Of rhythm and word; to see the world through
Eyes that comprehend the human condition,
And reflect it to those uncomprehending.
I strive to follow his path, but am not dismayed
When my words do not follow his lead.
I am not so vain as to imagine I am his heir,
Yet I would wish his ghost visit me, and lay
Upon his hands, that I may speak with his voice.
Categories:
undistinguished, poetry,
Form:
Verse
Ever reliant placid pilled compliant nevertheless undefined anarchaic fool fk clandestined anamorphoric clumsy apparentless undistinguished negiligent aforthought defiant scopic blind congenital aborted panoramic distilled coherent brain dead dynamic stagnant democratic fascist positive negative here now there when arrow bullet bandage heal peace war earth wind oil gas life death pain heal forward backward null everything all present past gone love hate like live give take now then here now everpresent enigma allowances that predicate openly to an everbeknowingest art alien tied to an abridged hellhole of unforgivin nowness anti for-lorn pre posture of work benign uncatagorized for an anti generic formula contrived of a nevertheless bastions less enlivened. Cap some either or, can't want of pour significant captured complete thereby enabled neither nor blissed by an unnoticed benign brand of human diligence. Can u take me to a higher place unavoided? Neo nuptuial nill cast nominal predestined undone? Liquid capital indifference fluid non com in com copious defiant degenerate defined. See Dick, Jane, Susan, Betty Spot; On Cherry Street my beloved. behind the coat rack renedavous in 2nd grade approval stolen kisses entities aborant. Stephanie Artist a new be race child of 2 lovers light but complected and only interested in that their child is equal. I fell in love right off and she died years later of LUK, why do I still remember a loss so far away? It's me. Sad, that a life ended so soon? I am in memory of all I have seen, known,heard and lost, for I know they are complete.
Categories:
undistinguished, angst, conflict, confusion, psychological,
Form:
Free verse
We’re all at rivalry with an undistinguished universe
let the truth be known;
politics are garrulous about freedom and what they’re going to do
hell of hands their helpless.
Before the world goes to fire,
I hope all is done,
No one is here to help us possessive and acquisitiveness.
New Orleans living life underwater;
only thing that can seem to save them is sensitivity.
We live life on the passenger side:
We’re fearsome to stand,
but willing to only follow.
We all have problems
no one is overcoming.
Faith is no longer here,
luck has overturned the man above.
Black people must keep voting
too many people on us joking.
God has many blessings to bless
but we’re giving up too fast.
We all riding on love and money
it can’t buy happiness.
This world is helpless,
it’s too late for us to go back,
sometimes, too late to move forward.
We all think the future has
nothing more we can hold.
Helpless of taking life for granted;
everything in life isn’t perfect.
The war is a battle fought
but we all looking like cowards,
thinking we fighting for a reason
now is our biggest tragedy.
Sometimes a tragedy let us know its over;
we can not win.
Over shoulders we must stay strong,
he won’t put more than we can not bear.
The economy has reached it’s next worst peek.
Here is the morning sun
all we have is racing hearts
and prayers.
Don’t let no one steal your pride
it’s yours inside.
Born in the U.S.; where people think we’re blind,
where we live secrets and lies,
as people we’re not listening,
anything that is said, we believe.
Many lives lost,
many waves in the ocean lost,
we’re left in a world of nothing.
Categories:
undistinguished, confusion, education, faith, family,
Form:
Burlesque
Robotic
Silver tears fall from robot eyes;
The hole for a heart has broken wires.
The love we used to feel? I have removed those files.
Robotic people lead robotic lives.
Delete memories to give us more memory space;
The undistinguished face is factory made.
Modelled in clay; repeat again.
Another body, with another face; we are all the same.
Robotic people live robotic lives.
Work for the master for nickels and dimes.
Programmed to function, incapable of lying;
Programmed to self-destruct at the end of our time.
Watching people go by, living ordinary lives;
They are not the robot I see in the reflection
And they seem to be doing just fine.
Dreams of former lives never remembered in this mind;
I am robotic, but I pay it no mind.
Heartless and constant, I am becoming less than I should;
Infected files corrupt us from the inside,
When we were only trying to feel good.
Love is just data, magic does not exist; it is just a pretense.
The formula to the equation of my very own existence.
The failure of a maker who brought me into this world;
I am strong on the outside, but inside I am fetal.
Empty of emotion, now I have lived this life;
I see ordinary people living exotic lives,
But I am a robotic being and I cannot experience a true smile.
Nothing behind the eyes to show a real emotion;
I am just a robotic person; I am just in need of a function.
I am lost without romance in this web of confusion;
Robotic people lead robotic lives and I am living in slow motion.
(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Categories:
undistinguished, body, emotions, life, love,
Form:
Bio
Nothing is shaking, but these mountains are moving.
Broken and shapeless, lost found and renown.
Can you see it's multiple faces,
The moment you close your eyes at night?
Blind in your hands you take action,
Sharing in the abnegation at flight.
Cluttered by the fractures of fake aid,
You've become the mover and taker.
The epitome of undistinguished theft before you trade.
Figures sweep across my path of distinction,
Swiftly blocking me and I can't escape.
I lift up my arms to hold all possible patience.
Humbled by the troubles of this cascade conscience.
Shade, it becomes the dramatical black parade.
Sketching edges into the objects of human copper tin.
Bash n' bang the color so there remains no more stain,
Stacking high the welts left on your brains limbic violin.
Categories:
undistinguished,
Form:
The stone that felled the Philistine
Was just a common river stone,
Worn smooth by the waters of the Jordan
Over years of being eroded and diminished,
Weathering the turbulence of existence
With stoic indifference.
It was just another rock,
Undistinguished by its nature,
Until that day it fostered legend,
Being useful for the tumult it endured.
Remember that the next time
You’re feeling old, tired, and useless.
You may yet come to be handy
In service of some noble endeavor
Because of having been so harshly fashioned,
And so smoothly polished.
"To everything there is a season
And a time for every purpose under heaven."
Categories:
undistinguished, age, allegory, endurance, motivation,
Form:
Blank verse
Magnetic anomalies
Often tied to a crystal
That submerged with Atlantis
In Bermuda’s Triangle
Flight 19 left Florida
Routine military squad
Training mission, planes on course
‘Til pilots saw something odd
Sea met sky; which way was up?
Compasses spinning about
Then radio transmissions
They were suddenly without
North and south undistinguished
Seemed like a frightening dream
As the air control on base
Saw them fade from radar’s screen
Rescue effort quickly launched
14 men were lost at sea
But to this day no one knows
What became of Flight 19
Just one of many cases
Bermuda’s Triangle lore
Pilots fall to certain doom
On the cold Atlantic floor
Atlantis technology
May have led to its demise
A sunken crystal’s power
Still lures aircraft from the skies
Categories:
undistinguished, history, mystery, sea
Form:
Rhyme
A pro bowler is not thought of as a precision performer
Laying a 16-pound ball in the exact same spot
Over and over again, as many as 300 times a day
Morning, afternoon and evening for weeks on end
Nor is he deemed a disciplined practitioner of his trade
His temperament even, with a mindset honed to forever
Look forward to the next frame, to the next challenge
No matter that the spare he just failed to pick up cost him dearly
His has not the cunning of a geometry-savvy billiards player
Who knows all the angles on every lane, the dips and
The curves, and even the effect of the temperature and
The barometric pressure on the way his ball will roll
He is not feted as a brave warrior, who subjects his rolling elbow
To incredible amounts of torque over the course of a career
Which can easily span three or more decades of battling tenpins...
No, he is just the man-child next door living out his youthful dreams
Categories:
undistinguished, perspective, soldier, sports, work,
Form:
Free verse