Best Visualising Poems
lost in a kingdom
with no high walls
of protection
no buildings (exist here)
no people
just (my)
WORDS
ears oblivious to
unimportant
sounds
eyes unfocused
mind visualising
nebulous forms
FEELINGS
the words flickering
like the destination board
at the railway station
the page waiting
in anticipation
wondering
where this train of thought
is going
~
attention disturbed!
CONCENTRATE
~
what is that noise? (crying)
why are my (reflex) memories
making me feel anxious?
~
too late!
~
the taste of pain
warm, metallic
curl up
make myself small
INVISIBLE
endure
do nothing to sustain
the berserker’s fit
~
QUIET
don’t move
be patient
wait
STILL
~
unfurl
breathe
tidy the room
clean the damage (memory)
bury the pain
hide from this world
back to the kingdom
of words
as
the destination board reads
BLAME
Categories:
visualising, angst, childhood
Form:
Free verse
L loyalty lust learning life listening
O openness oneness over-indulgent obsessing
V violent vixen voracious visualising
E erotic equality everything
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
©copyright Juanita Torr
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Categories:
visualising, love,
Form:
Acrostic
WHAT IF?
Our philosophies are different, yet people are the same
Where you end up in your life, is how you play life’s game
What is it you think about? What do you visualise?
What you are visualising, should be no big surprise!
What should be common knowledge, only few have known
Listen to your inner self and let the truth be shown
We Become What We Think About
What if this is true?
The only way you’ll ever know is try it, yes try it, I mean you!
What ever you may think about, be it good or be it bad
Will determine your future days, meaning happy, meaning sad
What if you believe in this?
What if this is true?
What if its reality, what will you do?
What if you would try it? Give it all you’ve got!
That’s the only way you’ll ever know, of what it is in WHAT!!!!.
Categories:
visualising, inspirational
Form:
Rhyme
On that happily emotional day
You announced your retirement.
I was anable to say
A word at that moment.
When you were giving the speech,
And reminding us your memories.
I was visualising your previous match
In which you'd made hundred centuries.
You said your speech was getting long ,
But I thought it was the only start .
At that moment I wanted to write a song ,
But it is not my part.
I had made your photo collection
And I thought I had lost it.
I was listening you in an emotion,
Before finding the collection I didn't sit.
When you finished your speech ,
I couldn't stop my tears .
It's not for me but each
Of your fan couldn't stop their tears.
I would be telling in my whole life
That I'd seen the God was departing .
Sachin your name will remain in cricket ,
And cricket without your name wont be starting .
Thank you God for giving us
The God of Cricket .
He will remain in us ,
Till we hear the word "cricket".
Categories:
visualising, missing,
Form:
Sonnet
Lo and behold the beauty within
on gossamer wings I fly,
veiled moonlight and what it brings
eyes shining a pure green.
lonely the night when you are young and in pain
In visualising the joy of loving again
now I must flutter like a dazzled moth
evermore seeking that one person , my
soulmate somewhere waits for me, please
shine your light, so that I can see.
penned 18/2/2016
Categories:
visualising, beautiful,
Form:
Acrostic
Vaticanus, the natal deity
Had sown the star seed
And caused the vagitanus
Even the angels wept
With joy to hear her cry
He was charting out her destiny
Visualising his future posterity
Beaming on this beautiful earth
The babies, he mused smilingly,
First learnt to chant his name
Surely the animalistic shrieks heard now
Were from the dungeons of hell
He pushed aside the thick murky clouds
To see the sweet babe with a twisted neck
Loud wails of the mother to see her dead
Tore through the heavens waking up all gods
Out of peaceful slumber at their miscreation
Even the angels' cries thundered at the outrage
Of another demonic sexual carnage on a holy land
The heaps have been piling of female foeticide
And one more angel added to the celestial stars
(May 5, 2016
Judged on May 6, 2015 by John Lawless)
June 6, 2015
For Second Chance 2 by Eve Roper
*vagitanus is the first cry of a baby
Categories:
visualising, angel, anger, baby, beautiful,
Form:
Free verse
Lost, rejected and alone
Just me, myself and my thoughts
Conflicting in my minds zone
There are no knocks at my door
There are no rings from my phone
Everybody seems to have moved forwards
And I feel I have moved backwards
If I could cry there would be floods
I'm left with my last grain of strength
So please don't worry
There will be no overdose, no cuts and no blood
I will not leave a rotting death stench
As I live in hope that I will start rising
Above the darkest clouds
That I keep creating and visualising
Will I stay lost?
Will I still feel rejected?
Will I forever sit alone?
Categories:
visualising, confusion, dark, depression, fear,
Form:
Bio
Images some clear and pure,
some hazy and blurred,
some tinted, some broken,
reflections i see in the mirror
on seeing them creates mental fear.
some still while few in motion,
shadows the mental images on the glass.
visualising them closer i feel i will fall
as mirror is hung on the wall
it tells the truth
broken images need to pick up and gather
join them And start afresh
i see a picture of child wonder whats going on her mind?
is there confusion why actions are being repeated?
when i smile i see opposite person smile or is it mine?
i frown she too frowns
i touch she too tries touching
but i cant feel it...
wondering is some one really there behind?
is child wondering about its own beauty or old age?
or simple curiosity of where it came from,
cant seem to trace...
child goes with a smile..
reflections talk a lot
need to feel And see
mirrors dont lie
see and introspect
truth will be revrealed
all queries answered
just alook
it gives a reality check
Categories:
visualising, imagination, child, smile,
Form:
Imagism
dab dab wab?
Under the simplified shade of a sparrows wing one does not strut. It is merely there to shield and shields are shapes and shapes are not shifting. Steel blows to a mud are unwelcome and untimely. Plus they are not akin to an orchestra playing in a beautiful sunlit chapel. Chat then to a small breeze whilst sitting on a rock. A beaver might join in and so might an antelope. But fifty six bison, a wheeled cow, a twisting carbonated cream jug, and an artists palate will never ever speak to such a mild force preferring instead to shout out to storm winds and hurricanes. At this time the prevalence of three minstrels is a lovely sight to behold. And the nine millimetre pool cue will talk when touched. Touching taking talking trampling tearing tyrannical tragedies. And the marking of a six pointed cross. With a circle. And Teflon reflected surfaces are akin to a doormat spinning under feet. A wide mongoose at a visitor centre visualising via video. It takes a little lemur to find a pennywhistle and play productive plateau tunes. But the belch from an uneven toad could disrupt even the finest air from a guitar string strummed by a seven metre galloping pie. Frame that then. Opinions offer octagons order officially. So get on a horse and clap several times. Then go to the mountain rope bridge and go over it at great speed. Upon return lie down in a stable on a table of golden hay. Then neigh yourself to sleep. Neighing ninety neighs. Nuances. Great. Roadworks of cars are annoying but road blocks of ant people are incessantly irritating. Mad circumference of a stomping stomach in a suit. Parading. Like a pin. Ok then. Right what is said is said and what is done is done. And that is it. And further to my duties in this house I will have further such meetings later today with 90 golf balls, a lime and lemon cordial, a fruit bowl, and a misty mash. Hahaha the legs on a keyboard are dancing. Hahaha string strap speaking xxxxxx nominative Z Z Z and deliberations deemed dramatic Z
Categories:
visualising, blessing,
Form:
An unfortunate calibre is a turtle turning in a towel. Vast vistas vacate villages videoing vests vehemently And all the time the sleeping beast snores as the cattle drive by in their mooving mobile manufactured machines. It is never wise to sit and stare at such a display of destruction. For restrictions can even be found in a tree root. Thus enabling an atomic automobile in an apron to attempt a curling dive. But not in a hairdressers nor in a cotton cottage garden. So one two three then whisper to the whales. How rather gallant. And how perfectly formed is a fine angled sheet on a washing line. Motionless but moving. Slight tepid breezes to assist drying. And a little flirtatious dove sparkling with a neat tiara and wand. Over a grey. Through a black. Olive oil and a sultry smile from a doorstep snake. Writhing in a wild wind. Such craftsmanship in an opaque skyline. Visionary visualising via very vertical vortexes. And quite often a radio held cup is indifferent to the fall out from portrayed portion of potatoes. Hahaha sensory steam hahaha lake learning laughter hahaha stem cell of sand xxxxx hypnotising hypothetical hippopotamus xxxxx bionic bread xxxxx vertiginous Z.
Categories:
visualising, animal, arabic, art, beautiful,
Form:
Trumpeting cauliflowers never blow eggs backwards onto a postal stamp. So never kick a cabbage to a kerb. Oh watch now. All drive safely. Harmonics in a queue are indestructible and indescribable too. Oh counting. Fun fun fun but not for an atom. They prefer to whizz around a jug. Or a used dish. Or a mop bucket. Take no acetic crow to a crown party. For feathers fly as the dresses are announced and who wishes to swim in thick tar or oil anyway. No a pointing stick says. That is quite right. And rights are righteous and righteousness is a right-angled visionary visualising rhombic robot. Dare to argue with GHQ? Or something that is said that is not paths? Tread light. Upon the grounds of carpets. Carpets carry carnivorous carnage. And a douchebag in a suit is neither a swimming whale nor a wallaby. Ok then. Good. Fantastic news for all who attend the operatic antics of the wardrobe sheaths.hahaha pickled melon meeting pickled lime. Hahaha leotard lion leapt. Hahaha swordfish sampling sailing seas. Xxxx Constantinople z. That was the p y q reporting in the afternoon from the aerial perspective of the debate about that apple pie. Z
Categories:
visualising, allah, allegory, angel, anti
Form:
Just see the morning itself has come to sit in my spine shaking in delight
A grand sun much grander in splendour than the one you see everyday
Is bubbling over in laughter of each and every molecule of my existence
Bringing out dark green vibrations on the back of my palms and wrists
Eruptive delight sits on the skin thrilled in the vibrant hours playing violin inside me
Just look at the radiant eyes at their height, an expression of the dances of my being
To announce to the world through the bugle of hibiscus in my bone marrows
Upon the glorious pine trees in infinite twitter thousands and thousands of sparrows
You have made me happier than ever I have been under the sparkling blue sky
In never-before-known exhilaration is booming within me many a celebrating gun
I don't know why I can't control the tremendous force in my whirling bloodstream
Rushing in my mouth gums teeth and tongue so the eyes can raise intense waves
How could you raise the crimson creativity that make me resolved to see hundred flowers blooming
In the whirlpool my love has generated in the crazy hemoglobin of my struggle
The happiness that I now carry in my breasts you don't know what a violet and blue sky
It is going to give birth to along with sounds of high and low tides in response to the passionate moon
I am just crystallizing my golden resolutions and visualising in wonder
What a typhoon it would be
Never there have been such a pink hour to taste what life means and never there will be
In the scarlet vibrations of the impatient seconds please wait a little sweetheart please wait for me
Let me enjoy as long as I can hold this intoxication of bliss and ecstasy
___________________________________________________________________________________________
September 10, 2017
For Poems that paint a picture contest
Sponsored by Silent One
Note: In the phrase the bugle of hibiscus I am indebted to Eve Roper for the word bugle
and to Demetrios Trifiatis for hibiscus.
Categories:
visualising, body, celebration, creation, happiness,
Form:
Free verse
A slice of is figment is not stone carved melon nor mould of moon cake nor is it moaning marbles moving momentously. It is fascinating to note that steam rolling over headlines using big heavy wheels can induce a certain amount of jelly, carbonated drinks, hexagonal fishcakes, and seaweed to jump from the cupboard climb out of packets and sing very loudly in simultaneous song. The voice of a vortex is a visionary visualising vivarium vicariously vibrating vocabulary. And all the while the little letters let linking lemurs laugh. Lemurs laugh lovingly and love is not an itemised bill with googly eyes nor is it a meter reading a tome. So all hail in a pail for a puffing puffin is chewing on a boiled sweet today. Hahaha millionaire millipede moving many mice. Hahaha a pair of eagle faces in skintight shirts prancing. Xxxxx synchronisation z z z z z at seven thirty six a m on a dusty humid track of a bathroom floor with no b side eclipse effect. Z
Categories:
visualising, animal, appreciation,
Form:
Unravelled in conscious decision bend
So much going on , I have to pretend
There's no revert no green end
?This will all end
?With no return
?in this turn , what I learn
?Is what I decide . The decision I confirm.
?
Deminished in droughts of self-esteem
?idealism
Visualising the unease, forsee
?Assuming the counter bleeps.
Feelings attached,
To detached reality ....
Reoccurrence of a moment at rest
.
? Conclusive yet Delusional
Pressure to cripple or relieve that uncertain flex...
Yet so much of everything...
Recks the peaceful phased...
? Feeling of raised
?harmony's chest.
?
?Lost in the past ,
?Either deal with it or stone
?Your tone will be judged by the underlaying dawn/clown
Misled certainty
Jumping high , slithering low
?
The Occupying excitement
?
?Feeding the unknown dissapointment
?Forging in greatly
? ?yet unimpressed
.
Creeping of .... Endeavours
Crippling the favour
?What's the magic to complete tasks?
?
Desks covered, visualised seat
Beat to sleep ,
?Motivation loops
Instant ?go. Hold on !.
? Sway the thoughts ...
? It's Gone
?
?Fractions of could've been ...
?So so dim
? in the scene ...
Feelings attached to detached reality...
Fidelity, I feel scenes
I feel the looks,
Physically unpresented ?atmosphere
The motion dips ...
I can't feel ease
my soul went to a freeze
?
?
Categories:
visualising, allusion, confusion, dark, devotion,
Form:
Free verse
Once upon a time, far upon a distant land,
Was a field so beautiful, it would take your breath away.
For, for acres and acres out tulips fanned.
A beautiful reflection of the sun's bright yellow.
But in the midst of the baskets of the sun,
A tiny red bud popped its head,
It grew unnoticed, seen by none.
But as she blossomed, things started to turn around.
For among the yellow tulips, the rose was a novelty,
A sight that every passer-by would stop to acknowledge,
To appreciate the possibility, the rose's color, her beauty.
And the tulips' monotonous color only enhanced hers.
But even as she was constantly valued and admired,
Even as the whole world seemed to love her,
The only thing that her heart truly desired,
Was the soft caress of the dew drops from heaven.
Because you see, under the tulips so towering,
The little rose only had a small window to the skies.
She only watched as the tulips danced in the rain glowing.
Her heart ached for when a tiny drop would fall upon her too.
Among her many admirers, one started to visit frequently,
A young man, lean and handsome was enchanted by her.
He would gaze at her and at times stroke her gently,
For he was enraptured by her beauty and fragility.
He would sing songs, write poems about her,
And soon the tulips cleared a path for him,
From the edge of the field to his pearl.
But soon the rose was nearing her end.
She knew it and despaired, for she never lived her dream,
Even as she revelled in her admirer's love and affection,
She would never get that chance, it did seem,
For she was losing her petals one by one.
The last day arrived and she held onto her last.
He was there by her side looking melancholy,
Remembering her vibrant days, visualising the contrast.
Afraid to touch her, he sat by her side.
He couldn't help it as a tear slipped out,
But the little drop landed straight on her only petal,
Her heart lifted and her soul soared, for she had no doubt,
That the dew hugging her was more special than any from the sky.
In that fleeting moment she felt truly at peace,
She had realized the true meaning of love,
And so the last petal she did release,
To move onto her eternal ever after.
- Miliya Parveen
Categories:
visualising, dedication, devotion, faith, fantasy,
Form:
Rhyme