Best Viable Poems
No larger than a grain of rice,
her face is forming; mouth, a slice.
Her heart, a tube, begins to beat;
at one month, things are imprecise.
An inch now from her head to feet.
Eyes, fingers, toes: not yet complete.
Her neural tube, well on its way.
At two months, things look pretty sweet.
Four inches long, an ounce to weigh;
miscarriage risk drops every day.
All parts are present, there to see;
at three months, fingers grasp and splay.
Her nails and hair seen easily;
eyelid, eyebrow, eyelash agree.
Four months now and six inches long,
the ultrasound clear: she’s a she.
Her muscles build; she’s getting strong.
You thought you felt her; you’re not wrong.
She’s covered with lanugo hair.
At late month five, she hears your song.
Her fingerprints? Whorls present there.
The eyelids part; eyes open, stare.
When she hiccups, you may observe.
Month six births: viable with care.
Refinements to sensory nerves,
reacts to light, from pain will swerve.
She rarely is reserved or still;
month seven, and this gal’s got verve!
At five pounds now, she kicks at will.
Lungs immature, but they can fill.
Eight months, all sharpens, gets refined;
You’re on alert, you know the drill.
It’s nine months now; she’s quite confined.
Delivered, breathes in, and unwinds.
Flesh of your flesh, though quite her own;
Distinctly her, you’re intertwined.
Categories:
viable, life,
Form:
Rubaiyat
Would you still love me ... perchance I was half a man?
My carnal, physical core torn from me like ragged raiment,
Off to war in courage and heroic sacrifice ...
Returned by God and country, as barely half of what I'd been -
The half that could never again join with you in passion ...
Would you still love me?
Imagine I was a monster ...
Deformed by happenstance or accident,
Still a man in the technical sense,
But with face and sinews that repulsed even himself,
Though the heart and spirit you adore still thrummed inside ...
Would you still love me?
What if the day came - a reality as viable as any,
When I lost everything of earthly value and worth -
All possessions, comforts, conveniences, and financial securities - gone,
The talents and abilities and experience to support even myself,
Blown to the four winds by careless fate or folly ...
Would you still love me?
Consider if I were human, inside-out ...
The abyssal and dark, troubled corners of my being
Worn on hapless bones like sodden skin,
The fearful ids and psyches, thus laid bare by illness or substance -
Free to dance like a demon for the porcelain moon ...
Would you still love me?
And pray, what if I were YOU ...
And you were the reflection of all that your dreams dare weave,
The horror and ecstasy that awakens you in the night -
Shivers and turns to ice on your faultless, barren skin,
Choking the screams from your chest ...
Would you ... could you still love me??
~ 10th Place ~ in the "2019 Poetry Marathon Mile 25" Poetry Contest, Mark Toney, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Would You Still Love Me?" Poetry Contest, Edward Ibeh, Judge & Sponsor.
Categories:
viable, analogy, love, relationship, together,
Form:
Free verse
Be Courageous Above All in everything
You do and become involved in since the
Inverse of doing this is often anathema
To leaning forward and getting things
Done and becoming a viable and vibrant
Force in your own life which is so important
Since we all have just this one chance
Within our mortal coil known as “life”
To make things happen and to make a
Difference and so the message should be
Why wait because the positive impact
You have on yourself can have that
Wonderful alchemic by-product on
Others you know and interact with
In our finite cosmos of the Human
Endeavor and so standup for your
Beliefs and ideas but always be
Polite and gracious to others since
These attributes go a very long way
In helping one to get things done and
In achieving goals both big and small
And so—Be Courageous Above All
Since you only live once with your
Current Soul Body on this most finite
Mortal Earth Plane! (And don’t forget
To laugh at yourself from time to time!)
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
(December 12, 2014) (Didactic Verse poetic format)
Categories:
viable, allegory, appreciation, courage, devotion,
Form:
Didactic
"Messages"
Messages are delivered to us
in the strangest of places, we resist
like we are the longest hung revolution,
the biggest most viable important incarnation,
the loudest sonnet to acknowledge the uncanny
timeliness of the unreality of it all,
the removed mathematical equation,
where is the logic in prophecies
waiting for that Pale Rider
to real us into safe quarters
away from the proverbial Storm;
any day now, news will ignite
napalming our unaware safe walls,
walls hung with souls of value
screaming I’m too old for all this
writing and passing of notes
back and forth in school;
to'wit, I’m more than likely, not 1
of the 144, I'm way too sullied,
yet I’ve got hellelujah tribulations galore
Candide Diderot. ‘24
signs/messages
Categories:
viable, muse, surreal,
Form:
Free verse
AT THE BUS DEPOT
Faces and suitcases with little rumbling wheels.
The seat is hard and littered with yesterday’s paper.
How can these moving actors know how it feels
To be old and no longer a ticketed escaper?
Faces fade past - abandoned at the end of the day,
And suitcases are piled in a corner out of the way,
With little ceremony thrown in the baggage space over the round
Rumbling wheels of each escaping Greyhound.
The seat next to every dark window is filled; and it
Is hard to wave a cheery farewell to a stage unlit,
And littered with unfinished details.
With a regretful breath I recall
Yesterday’s family get-togethers, kids’ parties and noise:
Paper roses, children’s games, plastic toys.
How can these faces care about fault or blame?
Moving to every other city you can name,
Actors waving through windows, waving and no one seems to
Know how to live alone. It’s hard, it’s empty,
It feels like a dream gone bad, the black blues,
To be part of yesterday’s theatre reviews,
Old , unneeded, socially undesirable, unwaveable,
And no longer economically viable, without
A ticketed reason to exist here in the depot.
Escaper no more.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Written by Sydney Peck
Entered in Debbie Guzzi’s Contest “Et Cetera”
Categories:
viable, allegory,
Form:
Verse
A Magician never divulges his secrets
So how he managed to break my heart while already broken
I’ll never know
It was not viable,
Then again, any trick can be duplicated, if remembered correctly
Rewind, replay, on my mind
Was it a slight of the hand?
The flick of the wrist
Or the abandonment of all disregard
To society, to pride, and to us
In those caramel eyes
That hypnotized me
Into believing his illusions of love
Which left me awestruck
Doves and Roses
Hidden underneath sophisticated overcoats
“Baby, I’ll never do it again”
Pulling promises out of thin air
Magic, I suppose
Complicated locks and bolts
Flashy Velvet, sequins, and gold plated cages
Lead me to believe in mystery
Of Romance
To have faith in in miracles,
Even reformation, perhaps
Oh, but Baby you made a fool of me
Devoid of all machinery, intricate backstage knots
It was a simple trickery
Disloyalty, behind a locked door
That broke my heart
Categories:
viable, imagination, lost love, love,
Form:
Free verse
It's easy to set the goal, and even put the process in motion, but continuing to push forward through struggles and frustration can require a shove to help draw out that emotional leverage. ~ Leigh Wilson
Emotional happiness is a goal everyone would like to reach
but attaining that destination is not something anyone can teach.
The use of leverage is a viable solution to ignite the flames of fire,
ones to use as sparks to light the way to have the life we desire
There are several emotional concepts that I label after reflection
that can motivate us and others to live life without objection
Pride is usually thought of as a trait for which we shouldn't strive
but it can also prove to be a useful tool that can keep hope alive
for it can take a look at goals that were achieved or things done right.
A point worth making; it opens a window giving slivers of foresight
Joy is an emotion everyone feels when a goal is accomplished
Any lever can be used to amplify an advantage that can be wished
Something as simple as talking with others can make joy a reality
It's a resource to change a behavior or attitude; not a hyperbole
Hope allows us to have expectations of a life that we find fulfilling
But life often pushes back with frustrations that could use distilling
That's when we pivot, as a lever to make struggles less intimidating
By facing problems head on, seeking solutions, instead of placating
The fear factor dwells inside everyone when feeling uncertainty
or an immediate threat, but it can be levered with a bit of diversity,
a change in some areas of our lives where we experience less stress
The more advantages we can obtain, we'll feel threats much less
Anger is perhaps the biggest obstacle to having emotional well-being
but used as a leverage, it can be used as a key that allows the freeing
from threats that we experience, disrupting our sense of independency,
enabling us to feel self-compassion and toward others with clemency
Then there is the prospect of shame, used to encourage and persuade
ourselves and others to avoid an action or a decision, wrongly made
when we, or others might find out about a socially undesirable action.
Leveraging devices give gentle shoves that lead to emotional satisfaction.
Categories:
viable, emotions, how i feel,
Form:
Rhyme
Very few could predict
virus would spread so fast,
verily cast on world
vicious shadow of death.
Virtual war is fought,
victory will come with
viable new normal.
May 5, 2021
Syllable count : 6 per line (howmanysyllables.com)
Contest : Pleidas V
Sponsor : Kim Merryman
Categories:
viable, death, fear, war,
Form:
Verse
Written: February 15, 2024
______________________________________
I ultimately rule over these stunning valleys,
Elm trees with mossy brows line the alleys.
Where distant peaks arise, calm and azure,
Akin to the strong tripods used for rapture.
Who can't view river stones as viable paths?
A scad of scramblers on spurs stoning laths.
To slay fair faces, who bartered leaden blasts,
And weapons because of their leopard casts.
Who inflicted lasting wounds upon the land,
Those who pursued the avian crowns stand.
Fetched to flatten fascinating flesh but failed,
Who still flies above "fallen Tomahawk," veiled?
From my awakened gaze, I view a world,
Across eyes that bear a black shade furled.
A confined space, restricted and stretched out,
Then I cast a velvety gaze over a dumb doubt.
In a shadowed visage, this is how I mumble,
These walls, built by oppression, must crumble.
I must quit as I gaze upon my unique form,
Through opened eyes, no longer blind corm.
And behold, my unique hands create,
The space exists within my mind spate.
Nonviolent activists avoid causing friction,
Path for discovery, not building any tension.
Yield your tension a flight and let it depart,
God will never strain you over skills to impart.
Stress is only a reaction, probe not to worry,
Oddness from bodies and beliefs is blurry.
Not all stress stems from having a lot to do,
It originates from a lack of follow-through.
The potential increases with increasing strain,
Growth comes with a sense of life's innate pain.
I'm feeling hollow, not due to any sorrow,
Yet, in a sense of relief, each knot fades hollow.
The most crucial factor in ensuring lifespan,
Is staying clear of tension, worry, and strain.
Life is not a rising conflict or a stressful scene,
Life ought not to be painful; it may be serene.
It's habits that induce tension and relaxation,
Cutting rituals and building useful tension.
Categories:
viable, analogy, anger, mystery, time,
Form:
Rhyme
In the quiet corridors of my mind, where memory and flickering thoughts reside,
we tell ourselves stories in order to live, to find meaning in the chaos,
seeking sermons in the despair of loss, searching for lessons in violence,
where five snuffed-out lives become a moral parable,
a narrative we shape to comprehend an incomprehensible reality.
We are the weavers of our own truth, choosing the most viable threads,
interpreting what we see through the prism of our elaborate tales,
imposing a coherent line upon disparate images,
freezing the shifting phantasmagoria of our experiences
with the ideas we have learned, like anchors in the turbulent sea of existence.
Through this stream of consciousness, I wander deeply,
where tangled thoughts intertwine with hues of sentiment,
seeking to grasp the elusive threads of dreams and weave them into meaning,
we are adventurers in the landscapes of intellect and soul,
each story we tell a beacon, a light in the dark forest of the unknown.
We find comfort in the narrative line we impose,
an appearance of order in the whirlwind storm of existence,
where each moment is a passing phantom, each experience a fleeting shadow,
and yet, in this magic of storytelling, we find anchor, grace,
transforming the ephemeral into the enduring, the transient into the eternal.
Melancholy wraps itself around each story,
a whisper of beauty from sadness, a hint of light within the shadow,
each chosen word an attempt to freeze the fluid, to grasp the intangible,
to bind the phantasmagoria into something we can hold close to our hearts.
Life, with all its chaos and fractured pieces,
finds a fragile peace within the narratives we construct,
as we trace the lines of meaning with trembling fingers,
seeking to transcend the transient, to touch the infinite
in the sacred space of a well-told story, of a fleeting moment captured forever.
Through our stories, we become more than mere spectators,
we become the architects of our own destinies,
each story a spell, an enchantment against the inexorable flow of time,
and in this act of creation, we discover ourselves,
the storytellers, the dream weavers, the light in the storm,
casting a gentle glow over the phantasmagoria that is life.
Categories:
viable, fantasy,
Form:
Free verse
Meir Kahane, a visionary, warned us all
Yet far too few heeded his call
Labeled a ‘firebrand’ by all the elites
His message understood by his enemies in the street
He told the West, calmly, what it didn’t want to hear
that Jew-haters' terror would soon have it quaking with fear
And Kahane warned Israel, to have a viable Jewish state
its Arab populace could not be allowed to spew terror and hate
But Israeli liberals said Kahane was ‘racist,’ exiled him to New York city
where a Jew-hater gunned him down in ‘90, a shame and a pity
For now most Israelis see that Kahane was right
terror unchecked has turned the world’s day into night
Categories:
viable, appreciation, fear, horror, jewish,
Form:
Couplet
Christian Believer Hypocrisy
Kentucky clerk Kim Davis
Use of her religious belief is a mistake most gravest.
While denying same-sex marriage, she is cherry picking the bible
When she grants divorced persons marriage licenses, making her argument not very viable.
Jesus had several times said something about divorce and remarriage. Corinthians 7:10-11 especially applies to Kim Davies who has three divorces and four marriages. Not only is she a hypocrite, she is using religion to promulgate hate. Oh yes, I think Jesus said something about "loving your neighbor" that seems lost on christian conservatives.
Categories:
viable, christian, faith, hate, judgement,
Form:
Clerihew
Dawn flings a face
All darkness flees;
Birth of new day
~~~~~~~~~
That Old Man once thought:
"Poetry is not viable..."
Who can eat poems
~~~~~~~~~
In our twilight years
Even time is suspended;
Marionettes know best
~~~~~~~~~
Love is a good excuse
When things go right;
Consider the alternatives
~~~~~~~~~
In my house
I live life brief;
Time excavates my soul
~~~~~~~~~
Haiku soapbox styles
Words in brief grief;
Soon I run away
~~~~~~~~~
Words do not tell
Of many things;
Forbidden and forgotten
~~~~~~~~
My darling calls
My name out loud;
Dreamtime outbursts
~~~~~~~~~
Horrifying nightmare
I struggle with despair;
Awake to gratitude
~~~~~~~~~
Lines loiter here
Linger with motives;
Pregnant envoi
~~~~~~~~~
Senryu sensations
Not much to say;
Pickle me fancy love
~~~~~~~~~
Words line up
Extravagantly economic;
Profit and loss
~~~~~~~~~
Now at last
Someone mimics a monkey;
Is it strange then
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
10 November 2014
Singapore
Categories:
viable, blessing,
Form:
Haiku
Sing me a song of a world in which everyone is equal
Read to me from a book of harmony that has a sequel
Tell me a tale of people who live a happy balanced life
Show me faces of men and women untouched by strife
Mathematically, an equation deals with variables and a solution
Environmentally, a well balanced world would have no pollution
Equalizing factors would never be determined by color or age
Every human would be treated alike, giving no cause for rage
Nature balances our climate; Spring is the time of new birth
Heat of Summer brings the rains, giving life to Mother Earth
Autumn is impartial, displaying fallen leaves in colored hues
Winter paints a cooler world in snow whites and icy blues.
Equations must be balanced, correct if both sides are the same.
Problems must be solved by everyone so peace we can claim.
Variables exist but all factors need values that can be measured.
It's the only way a viable solution will be found and treasured.
=======================================
March 4th, 2016 Equation Contest by: Anthony Slausen
Categories:
viable, life,
Form:
Rhyme
Someone help me
Listen to my plea I beg you
Four walls surround me
I’m imprisoned in a padded cell
Locked up for 24 hours a day
Like a caged tiger in a zoo
I crave daylight
I don’t know if I will ever see my children again
Death would be a viable option …
This is no life; I am like the living dead
I didn’t commit any crime
I shouldn’t be here - a miscarriage of justice
Misidentified by a photo fit image
Whilst the real killer
That evil swine still lurks out there
He must be laughing at my misfortune
Yet he is free to breathe fresh air
To see the sun, feel the wind on his face
Yet I sit alone in isolation, in squalor
Bars on the tiny window, in the door an iron grille
I live in purgatory forevermore
Whilst my twin brother walks free
Contest Four walls Sponsored by A. A
02~23~16
Categories:
viable, dark, deep,
Form:
Free verse