Best Utilizing Poems
"A Broken Demo"
In a desperate cry for help
She hires every jeweler
A cheap sheep crying, Wolf!
Using old repeating politic
utilizing lies * manipulation
To cover the Glass Paste on her face
Diamond-like - Stonecold and Crooked!
Her true shape -- unveiled -- predictable
A Thief Among The Mines
In a world where certainties are few---
Promises! Promises!
A shallow cut - with high class
no shape --- no spark, a dark mass
Smashing success when opportunity hits
The worst gem in disguise
The diamonds in her eyes -- gone -- expired
If you look, you will see
A twisted reflection in her evil grin
A sinister smile -- waiting to win
Her Vice - a victim --- her puppet
blind * believing her lies
Cutting light performance -
-Without realizing most see past her history
We the people are more than a cubic step
Lighting the madness of her soul
Just remember, every day she sits on her pedestal
Without a twinkle --- she stares into the night
Knowing nothing she stands for is right
Innovation - incomplete
A man-made she-demon trying to wear white
Like the swan, dying every night
She refused to hear the trumpet play
A new moon soon will open our eyes
EXPOSED --- Diamond CUT
Hillary Will Not Be President
#The Poet Destroyer
I like to exercise my mind, but how I hate to work.
Whatever needs exertion is the action that I shirk.
Labor with the brain is fine. I do it all the time.
How I love to sit and read or think of words that rhyme.
But send me to the bathroom with a brush so that I'll scrub,
and I'll barely rub the ring off. Then I'll lie there in the tub.
Peek inside; you'll find me, a novel in one hand,
resting as I'm soaking in my own little Bubble Land.
Clean the oven? What a joke. The most that I can stand
is loading up the wash machine (a task that's merely bland).
Maybe run the vacuum once a week across the floor,
and quickly dab where dust is bad; most stuff I ignore.
As my jobs all pile up, housework's even more a chore.
Why must work that's physical be such a dreadful bore?
My well-ingrained aversion to utilizing muscle
does have one exception: at the gym I like to hustle.
To kick box is so fun although it makes me sweaty.
Step and dance are choreographed. For those I'm always ready.
But I wish that just as quickly as from running on a tread
I could burn up calories doing workouts in my head!
Shifting shadows sculpt ebony edges,
Inking boundaries 'twixt twilight and Dusk.
Light's tethered to shapeshifting silhouettes,
Highlights shadowed, defused differences.
Out of chaos, scattered structures conjoin,
Utilizing rays of a setting sun.
Etched upon the fringes of Night and Day,
The trees begin to merge with the background:
Time pauses, almost standing still, as Dusk
Erases the colors garnered by Day.
Limericks written in Limerku form where words are counted, not syllables.
To some contest hosts, it seems to be very inconsequential
Perhaps they see poetry by a living brain as nonessential
What a disservice to the human hand
When AI poetry should receive a reprimand
Users have no shame in winning. They're positively nonpenitential
So easily now they've learned how to cheat by utilizing
the way AI allows, by using the means of humanizing
No hesitation over which buttons to click
and what they post is a goldbrick
Lines of blah blah blah, unappetizing that needs closer analyzing
The sponsors I continue to write for have dwindled low
Never would I post something that was empty of emo
Poetry should come from heart and soul
And if anyone cares... truth be told
Those who take unearned wins, I label them a bozo
Those who spend their days
Studying the hourglass;
Are stuck in an emotional haze,
Watching their very lives pass!
I will not waste my time,
In a relationship that is at the brink of destruction.
Everyone knows that I didn’t commit the crime,
And my head needed reconstruction!
“Time” took me away from my daughters,
And that was what nearly destroyed me.
Mentally, I was left for the slaughter,
But I hold on for the sake of my family!
I used time to my advantage,
I started utilizing the time I had.
My wounded heart wears a bandage,
And over time sought refuge in a pen and a pad!
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
Your father is neither dead nor is he sleeping.
He has traversed the thin line of demarcation
Into a marvelous dimension of safe-keeping,
Consider it a marvelous realm of preparation
For what we earthlings refer to as eternity,
An exciting adventure into the vast unknown
Frightening, our limited concepts of infinity,
Where true being-ness in never outgrown,
The gracious Almighty sits on the throne.
No end to the delights of the ultimate reality
To this place your father has quickly flown
Where he shall experience no law of gravity,
Beyond all fantasies of human expectation
Where no longer is one exposed to weeping,
We might think of it as an awesome vacation
Your father is neither dead nor is he sleeping.
Written June 18, 2022
[utilizing my own verso-rhyme]
It was shiny and bright sitting under the tree.
There were other things there, but that's all I could see:
a Lionel toy train on a circular track!
The caboose was maroon and the engine was black.
And to top it all off on this fine Christmas day,
was an engineer's cap that I donned right away.
I had deadlines to make and my job couldn't shirk,
so I rolled up my sleeves, and went straight to my work.
Utilizing impressive construction techniques,
I made Tinker Toy tunnels through newspaper peaks.
With an engine, a caboose, and three railroad cars,
I would ride to the moon and haul back the stars!
It sputtered and sparkled and went round and around
with a clickety clackety sonorous sound,
and an oily ozony odoriferous tang:
my thunderous wondrous electric toy train!
And then Daddy and I had to go out for bread,
and to pick up the big Sunday paper he read.
We're just about home when there was flashing of red...
and the crossbars dipped down at the railroad ahead.
As the freight train slowed up, I could clearly divine
the big engineer's head with a cap just like mine!
We dismounted and yelled, and I signed him three yanks.
He gave me three toots - and I waved back my thanks.
With my engineer's cap and my blue overalls,
I was dressed in a style to give anyone pause!
I had grand places to go and marvels to see...
but Mommy had my breakfast all ready for me.
It sputtered and sparkled and went round and around
with a clickety clackety sonorous sound,
and an oily ozony odoriferous tang:
my thunderous wondrous electric toy train!
Your ocular perceivers are the most resplendent ones ever kenned to mankind, they are as abstruse as the ocean and yet so captivating, The word dainty was engendered when they have no words for your lips, Your smile gladdens the heart of a man as wine gladdens mans heart, Your voice bring ecstasy and drives out sorrows within the soul of the hearer, Your face is the most elegant impeccably proportioned in appearance, if an artist is to do one final piece of art, they would be probing for you because they ken it would be the impeccable piece. Your personality is so genial, fun, doting, and so alluring. Viewing your disrobement is like a thunderbolt of sexual pleasure even a dysfunctional man will stand erect by the view, Your voluptuous body is more than that of a damsel and Aphrodite is less resplendency compare to you. I feel like I fulminated you cause I have degrade your resplendency by defining, describing, and comparing you with words of comeliness. You are not to be compared by or describe by any man. Cause your resplendency is that kind of resplendency beyond description. You are crafted by God himself, the greatest artist of all time. Thanks to your father and mother for not utilizing condom to bring out the definition of comeliness into this earth. You are the hyperbole of resplendency.
Fishing
Under the shade of an out of the way Weeping Willow
with its branches hanging low
As a little boy then the man
I sit in peace, with serene feeling
Of heavenly nature
A mist of the tall green grass,
delightful colors, of mix white, yellows, purples
wild flowers and wild blackberries grow
I watch as the butterflies dance around the wildflower
and listen to the sounds of the birds
A slight breeze through the trees sends seduction natures smells to intoxicate
In my blue overalls, straw hat, fishing pole, and a can of earth worms
Fishing in the cool, clear stream watching
trout jump up to feed on dragon flies bouncing off the mirrored stream
Utilizing my daylight time fishing
Instead of undertaking a day’s endeavor
2/19/2015
Elevator, elevator
One of the most awkward places you can be
Standing, crowded much too close to me
Should you say hello or just keep to yourself?
So you stand there stiff resembling a doll on a shelf
Elevator, elevator
A sudden stench encompasses the whole box
People look around like they’ve caught the chicken pox
The air is thick with unease and irritability
Everyone’s in a rush, utilizing their capability
Elevator, elevator
After what seems to be millennia the box stops abruptly
Another stop, still standing waiting for the lobby
Irish man breaks the silence with a witty comment
Its just like the movies –elevator ineptness is his vent
Rock paper scissors,
Wizards of utopian flavored wizardry, exquisitely triumphs in every gamble beyond these doors,
Flawless tangled reversed reflections, remain forever forbidden to thoughtless mentors,
A cursed emotional seesaw bleeds and wrestles each end hardcore,
Roaring and agitated amassing vacillating backwards tripped out cognition galore,
Attuned intrinsic tutor restoring more miraculous palaces placed within your space and time,
Sublime tribes of chrome plated words alive and congregating, hitting hard the hammer of stamina utilizing backyard grammar,
Autodidact physiques pack preeminent techniques fond of higher states,
Earthquakes from snake riddled concealment shake the anointed with disappointment,
Appointed fools lowering vibrations of stations frequencies,
Advocates underground traveling through lands and over sea's,
Undetected forward vision upwards,
In the presence of cowardly lords using swords of misfeasance,
Eyelids glued open, still unobserving rulers, kings and queens with blinding evil pupils,
Topple till stagnant misplaced silence takes vengeance over souls,
Walking gods of earth observing a hole as the devils henchman transform from the fallen,
Never forget the calling, the called out elect without verbal speech, supernatural telepathic freedom,
Finding Eden beyond quantum universes unlocking Pandora’s Box,
Mundane conscious blocks, angelic psychedelic capabilities,
Infinite possibilities traversing dimensions with three sixty peripheral vision,
Subatomic divisions, galaxies of particles coexist omnipresent yielding disorienting mechanics,
Organic fractals, geometry sacrosanct, divine kinematics pure to awoken viewers,
Future past tense, retrocausality effecting cause of events presents questions,
Spooky beauty interviewing intentions, synchronized oscillating firing patterns,
Exploding fireworks of hierarchically organized neurons, circuits and networks,
Knowledge or Ignorance? Defective decision fostering Berkes, Apple believers the first?
Earthborn mortals thirst!!! For cash, philosophy of money doctrine, man cursed.
Quincy Mac
Date Written:4.5.2016
Every earlobe ever pierced, minus non-pierced lobes, without exception
Quantified by head size, quality of piercings, and variety of earrings worn
Under ultraviolet light, utilizing reflective space, sound waves and distance
At appropriate intervals, measuring cut, clarity, carat, color and character
Totaling to a six figure sum, then divided by US bonds withdrawn from IRA
Increase the risk of screaming in agony, up to, but not more, than 50 decibels
On an operatic stage, bursting glass objects, as per fat lady singing, wherein
Numerical miscalculations of damage, therein, must be subtracted from the
Sum, so that all of said variables will not exceed the confusion of the bystander.
Written on 3/9/2016
a disinteresting air
another gaze
within a full length mirror
a persnickety grimace
bandaids
the severed slices
of crystal
sleeping
within my
larynx
excuse my idiotcy
not utilizing
punctuation marks
cmon darling
please please
warrant my arrest
dementia is not covered
under my insurance policy
but
cough spit
mutants
like myself
somehow survive
religiously pathetic
empathically morose
sympathetically laughable
one last day
one fleeting
precious
moment
the rifle is gently removed
from an uncolored mantle
periwinkle would have
been my palor of choice now
Say ah and place
the hunter's
metallic eye
strategically
down your throat
everything is pretty
everything is so goddamn
wonderful
sweat on my forehead
sweat on the trigger
one deep breath
one more for good riddance
go my sweetheart
cmon
pull it
i said pull it
for a starved beggar's last day
will be
righteously
and
magnanimously
honored
by himself
An instrument of beauty,
poetry is art at its best
with its verses of passion
penned with love
in assorted and variegated
metrical composition
with sublime and
aesthetically satisfying flow.
It is a creative exposition
that unfolds and enlightens
with enchanting constructs
the demonstrative and
effusive characterization
of language by utilizing,
promoting and bestowing
the nature and power of words.
Proclaiming ideas and ideals
of principled excellence
with creations anew
and history of old,
poetry exhibits an appetite
for knowledge and wisdom
and a profound propensity
for purposeful revelation
with an insatiable desire
for intimation and meaning
displayed with heartfelt emotion.
With its aspiration to show case
in magnificent scribal splendor,
poetry entices and compels
the artist and consumer
to explore and transcend
imagination and intrigue,
and solicit introspection
with unfathomable penetrating thought
that is calmed by grace and elegance.
Philosophical and spiritual,
entertaining and healing,
poetry commands laughter and tears
or sorrow and joy,
Its clamorous and powerful
phonologically expressive morphemes
can awaken and stir passion and romance
or summon logic and reason.
Poetry,
resplendent in wisdom,
captures love,
inspires hope,
provoke curiosity,
resonates drama,
evokes mystery,
uplifts spirits
and expresses grief.
So magnificent,
so powerful,
so wondrous
is the nature and
the majesty of poetry.