Best Visionarywords Poems
To make a word mean something new,
With some uniqueness -
O what genius!
These words are washed of all their color
Black and white, lo, gray
With boredom.
So what’s left to write about,
When words mean nothing more today
Than they did one thousand yesterdays,
Where lyrics sung like gentle sparrows
Lifted on a feathered wing
To heights I dare not envy -
O such jealousy I carry!
What utterance can be invented
That will strike a brand new language in me?
Woe, to have just one new word
To write across the clearest sky…
Mark, until it breaks through mundane clouds,
I call upon a devil’s darn to sew my lips -
Until righteous words rain down from heaven
Where I shall taste sweet nectar of fresh letters
Falling into gorgeous arrangements
On crisp white sheets.
My Inspiration, My Only Beloved, My Most Dearest WIFE
Fellow POETS' Masterpiece Laureates of Poetry LENORE ELLEN : Laureate
Each Stanza THEY WRITE Poetic Knowledge With POETIC LOVE
Bringing Memories Yesteryear POETS Living in Our HEARTS
From the Future, to the Past They INSPIRE all of Our POEMS Fellow POETS' words of Life
EMOTIONS of LOVE FEELINGS ; I DON'T KNOW Penned For History
UNCONDITIONAL ANSWERS : Created With Feathered QUILLED Pen
Education and Learning FOR ALL the Future POETS Write SALUTATIONS TO THEM
POETRY IS Life Rhyme : withstands all TIME Write with HEART AND SOUL
Inspired By and Dedicated To Laura Mckenzie Author Notes ; Read Top to Botom Left to
Right. Read each Horizonal line Left to Right Example line one all three Senryu
My Inspiration, My Only Beloved, My Most Dearest WIFE Also Read Capital Words in the 3
Horizontal Senryu Example : WIFE POETS' LENORE ELLEN ; THEY WRITE POETIC LOVE
I paint pictures like Davinci-Close your eyes and see the visual picture
I speak from the soul like 'Pac- can you see my visual scriptures
like Picasso- I paint pictures too
it's life in the words I speak- it's life in my literature
I put detail in my art like Pollock do
and some may read this- and think of it as being taboo
yet through my words you can picture my soul like Gordon Parks
I speak from my pen like Alex Haley speak from the heart
i'm like Vango and Monet- difference is- some will follow the G.E.N.E.R.A.L.'s Sonnet
if you want to find me- then through my words you should start
from my soul- to your heart-through my words- you bind it
from my words-the power- like Maya Angelou's you find it
if I overstand- then maybe you understand- my words have no cost
my words are art-I tell you-I teach you- like i'm Ross
my words are as a mural-Wyland- my soul is the sea
travel with me through word in my soul- you may get lost
yet you visualize-you'll see apart of me
'Pac-Alex Haley-Langston Hughes-Maya Angelou-Shakspeare-is art to me
my words is art-and no!-i'm not budging
like Micheal Angelo's painting "The Last Judgement"
-G.E.N.E.R.A.L.
Question - - -
Is the Internet eroding our attention span?
Carr wrote an essay; who’d he think would read it
Over 500 words, I’d have to concede it
Intrigued me at first; caught my attention
He’d use that many words simply to mention
That the hard-wired brain of the typical man
Typically has the attention span
Of three minutes or less when watching a scene
Or three paragraphs read, you know what I mean
He used too many words to get it across
Our reading ability has come at a loss
We’ve come to a point where we think it divine
To channel-surf TV while searching on line
We get snippets of this and snippets of that
And that my dear friends is where our brains are at
And even this poem, though it is shorter than most
We all can agree is a little verbose
And to tell you the truth, Carr’s lengthy essay
Was too long to read through on this busy day
I read a few lines in a section or two
Then stopped to write this, his perception is true
He lost my attention with so many words
My recommendation – cut it down by two thirds
Or better yet – make this an attraction
Draw a funny cartoon with your thoughts in the caption!
Mdailey Placed 7th in the contest
Nicholas G. Carr (born 1959) is an American writer who has published books and
articles on technology, business, and culture. His rather lengthy essay on what the
internet is doing to our brains in the Atlantic Monthly has been debated hither and
yon across the blogging community.
Saw the prints so there I track
Standing here on the edge of the crack
An alarming abyss and no turning back
Peeking around in deep dark places
There to find small little traces
Of successes in life and all the disgraces
There laid before me in my hand
Not even a mere speck of sand
Among the scheme of things so grand
Soaring so high up and away
Clearer there the light of day
Watching in wonder the superlative display
Climbing up on wings to take a ride
Naked and leaving behind all aside
With no reason at all or desire to hide
No words invented could ever convey
The visions there that come my way
As I sit and ponder my thoughts today
Some are good and some are bad
Then of those that make me sad
And of course so very happy and glad
If wanting to sing while walking along
Don't track in the dark places for much too long
And never try to create your own words to the song
Bad things can happen along the while
But upon my face I want to wear a smile
As I travel along that last crooked mile
Through my eyes
I see a world laid before me.
A world of color
where many is looked at
but less is seen.
My “eyes” would see the world,
but the world would see only “me”.
I wonder what the world would see
if they looked in my eyes instead…
Would it be the same image they see in “me”?
I maybe in pain,
but I may cast a smile
to the world outside.
They will see only my laughter,
but not the fire of agony
burning in my eyes.
I may have committed crime,
and maybe helpless though I regret it.
I may play an act of innocence
trying to believe it never happened,
in the effort of starting a new life.
But, the guilt in my eyes
would give the final verdict
which the world would not know
unless they seek the truth in my eyes.
I may sympathies.
But, my words may express
very little to be heard.
But, the world will not see
the kindness in my eyes.
Since, the words spoken by the eyes
are meant to be felt,
not to be heard.
They; the world may look at my eyes
But, may fail to look into my eyes.
Amongst them all
you and I may have passed by a many times,
but, the moment our eyes meet –
what is it that I see?
Not a world of color
like I have been looking at before..
But, if not for color, how can I see?
Now I come to realize
that what I see is a world beyond my sight;
a world of thought and imagination.
What is it I see in your eyes?
Trust? love? hatred? sympathy? or depression?
You may wonder the same.
But, this moment of eye contact
would unknowingly provide the answer,
taking us away from this world
to the deepest depth of the world of thought
behind our eyes.
But, with one blink
we shall come down to earth again-
We have not spoken a word,
but have communicated a silent message
of a million words.
As the eyes express suppressed words
which are longed to be spoken.
After this moment
I shall look back and walk away,
taking with me the memory
of the look in your eyes.
I know not whether we shall meet again.
But, we share a moment that will last till the end;
a journey to a world beyond our sight…
- Kushalee Jayawickreme -
It is Christmas time, again
I am an errand running
Supermarket slave with
feet tapping, eyes downward
I can't find any scuffmarks
on the polished desert floor.
Check-out line impatience
eavesdropping on stupid
pointless conversations and
f#*ked up weather mawing
I long to strangle the cashier
who offers to help me out
to the car with my groceries
Secret sideways guilt
I smile and say "no thanks"
then I trudge out to the
empty desolate parking lot
Maybe I will feel okay
if I up my medication
just for the holiday
Soul sucking family dinner
too much eating and drinking
as thoughtless words careen
into a minefield of pain
The words are swallowed
by the ceaseless coughing
of my phlegmatic Auntie Depressant
Blinding headache highbeams
Sea to skyway driver
stuck shuttling relatives
home from the holiday
I scan the road ahead
and pretend I can't hear
their wicked whispers and
constant bickering
Nagging backseat demons
The car reeks of old lady perfume
as angry words stab into
the back of my brain
If I jerk my steering wheel
a little to the left
how different things would be.
Out of the depths of my soul comes my Lady
Across heart and mind to spread a light
Radiant as the slender moon as she
Floats the still black waters of the night
The universe comes into being
In the shadow of her presence
And seized by the vision I am seeing
I'm drawn by a longing so intense
Entranced I would fly to pull her to me
And could I hold or would I
Overwhelmed by her mystery
Tumble back down the dark sky
With all of heaven too far above me
Condemned to the earth beneath
Imprisoned in this small life I create
Bewildered by this bitterness and grief
And left in the deepening silence to wait
My soul locked and chained within
Without her my spirit unable to rise
Denied the grace of inspiration again
To see the world with merely human eyes
So far from the one that produced
Wholeness of vision beautiful divine
The heart of the unseen reduced
To words once made to live and shine
By love of light from which they sprang
Fashioned first by woman and as fine
As any woman's child who lived and sang
The songs his mother taught in lullabye
While still enfolded in the arms of her who brings
This joy from which I stand apart estranged and shy
To suffer love perhaps to learn to love all things
And recognize in the lowest and most mundane
Forms hidden behind her often closing door
Are echoed and mirrored in the most arcane
Authority that I have honored so much more
And charged with the burden of my own success
Required to learn what silence has written
Is more than any tongue can express
Or struggle to contain and fit in
The emptiness of words if stirred to verse
When all is her and her eclipsed I find
The eloquence of love can be a curse
So much greater than this little mind.
For all around, this world I can see
Destruction, betrayal as the impoverished plea
Palestine, Israel and these Belfast child's
A world of man, in destructive wild
We have been here
For millions of years
Why in over two thousand
We have many tears, and many fears
People became leaders, their population steered
An unknown word suppression, alleyed their fears
They were told what was right, told what was wrong
The unbelievers, well they never belonged!
In every society, there has been a written book
Through modern centuries, we have been told to look
And if we look, and these words have been found
Is is purely belief, or are these words so profound
I am no seer, but my eyes can see
My name is Semaj, and i have no plea
You are here today, respect your tomorrow
For my words above!
My entry into Matt Caliri contest " If i Could Talk to God "
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/life-6.php
Words.... means nothing unless their spoken right
Unless the speaker who speaks them
Speaks with pride
With words that go further than sight
Words.... spoken by lips
Louder than a gun, faster than a bullet
But kills just the same
Pierces with versus
and leaves somes with pain
Words.... will make you go
Owww and Ahhh!!,
Or who and what??,
Or think to yourself, "what the f..."
Yea, so I left that word out,
Because theres a time and place for everything
Even though I said all words are good
I never said they all needed to be used
To all poets around the world
Our freedom of words as our pen unfurls
We write our dreams or fantasies so
Imaginations, allow our pens to flow
So many themes so many stories
A tale of woe or human glories
We can surmise what we have said
Its the eye of sight and how there read
Do we criticise or respect our words
I think were clever, not to be absurd
As poets writers we sail the same boat
To be respectful and not to gloat
We writers see through our eyes and thoughts
To table our words we have brought
Were fortunate to have, this poetry heaven
And freedom to write 24/7
I traveled many lands
and saw,with much sorrow,
what was shameful,unfair and wrong;
and still people engaged in dance...
We must declare our precious freedom,
to make equality and justice prevail,
in any land where these are honored:
there'll be an abundance of everything!
I often envision a distant day...
when everyone dares to dream:
the sad faces begin to smile,
and the silent voices start to sing;
today and always I join them,
to sound like a joyful bell!
Oppressed nations are afraid to speak
against that evil of any kind,
and they let others suffer and die;
what does it take for someone to declare freedom?
Even courage needs words to keep its flame alive,
so let those words proclaim your victory;
if silence is chosen because of fear,break it
with a shouting and thundering voice:
to let everyone know how invaluable is freedom...
to them and to us who desire nothing more than peace!
We must declare our precious freedom,
and let that light shine for endless ages;
united in faith and humility...
nobody can deny us this certainty!
We must declare our precious freedom...
as a strong legacy for future generations!
Copyright 2008 by Andrew Crisci
There is a dream waiting to unfold
It is burning like fire in the air
Bright eyes share the story to be told
Are the words really fair?
Angel eyes are watching over you
Waiting for the words to be said
They will show the way for who is true
Remember there is nothing unsaid.
In the distance there is glee
It cries for hope and praise
You see it sails across the sea
Can you hear the phrase?
Home again across the lands I dream
Waiting, wishing, and praying for angels
The words are ever so vague and free
Do you see angel eyes flying the angles?
Angels touch the blue skies
Answering questions of render
Or maybe of hopeful times
Then there is a time for the sender.
There are times I wish I could fly
And then I wish I were an angel
Then dreams would not cry
Sometimes how I wish I were an angel.
I have asked myself time and time again....
If I could write the most beautiful of words
Within the most alluring and colorful of ways
The pinnacles of splendid and eloquently written verse
Amid the highest echelons of majestical wonders
Ever beheld, beyond the histories of all mankind
Melting the hardest of hearts, or endearing the most tender of eyes
Having the entire world, flocking gleefully about my feet
An endless sea of souls, falling enchantingly in love with me....
What would it mean? And what would it be?
Could it fill the depths of something deeper inside?
Even if through my words I could hold them all
Within the very palms of my hands
What would survive? And what would die? I have thought
When the sun finally sets upon this glittering life
And the essence of whom I was, had taken its final breath?
If, nothing in which I had ever written or spoke
Had ever painted the picture or the portrait, of the everlastings
Paradise, of paragons perfection, or hades' abysmal sorrows....
Where then would be my reward, I considered
And in what joys, if I were to find
That all of my beauties and all of my wonders, my words
Were within the end, ultimately, all but amiss?
No! I covet not the things of this place....
Nor do I admire, not truly, the faithless ones
Even if their words were the most majestical ever spoken?
If the entire world flocked about their feet, I would not
For I have seen and I have known--"Know!"
That there is so much more, beyond this place and beyond this life
So much more, that I would never trade it, for my eternal soul!
Not even for a moment, inside of a moments, glittering world
............................Of.........................
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Starstruck Stars?
Everyone, and everyone
Who plays with the fire
Anyone whos anyone
Can see its the last of desires
Now go runnaway
Don't look at me please
Now go run and play
But your scars will become your burdons
You lie to me
You force acts of sin upon yourself
You ask me, why can't I be more like you
You'll never be me, your hardly someone else
These words written here
These lines of analogy, metaphore, sophisticated words
I shall learn these rules
And shall be glorified, and Known as the teen with words unheard
You ask me, why can't I be more like you
You constantly follow what you chase
You ask me, why can't I do what you do
You honestly think you can just pop into this place
You've got it all wrong
As I ask you, why can't I be more like you
You look at me with a smiling face and with gentle words
You already are, You are who you most fear and you fear your truth
These walls,
They're all made of mirrors
This place I'm in feeling as big as a palace
With the mirrored effect of a never ending reflection, onward into paradox
I look up upon the sky
And blink down towards the floor
I find myself outside the box
Outside the box of mirrors