Best Vocalize Poems
Those well coheres conditions; and acts without restrictions
they're all without admissions; like disease without remission.
Walking all alone; his intentions never known
he seems doomed to be alone; in this world that isn't home.
There are those that may contend; object and recommend
cause wounds that will not mend; praise God and say amen.
Though he can recognize; he will seldom vocalize
for he's seen to many signs; of a better mans demise.
So he keeps it all inside; it's the safest place to hide
so he can minimize; the tears that he must cry.
If any should reach out; you shouldn't blame him for his doubt
don't try to yell and shout; for that's when he will walk out.
It will take a little time; to see what's on his mind
in time you just might find; he's somewhat sweet and kind.
His caution is no stranger; and his love is not a danger
he needs not an arranger; and his love is the remainder.
You might have it if you asked; but don't let it be a task
let it warm you as you bask; and drink from loving flask.
If you should try to hide; the more he'll get inside
so take it all in stride; and he may walk there by your side.
Voices filling my mind
vailed beneath languid lips,
voraciously needing
valerian release.
Vain are my attempts to
vocalize her desire.
05/05/2021
Before the days of censorship,
I longed to be heard,
no one to keep my secrets safe,
not a single word-
Everything was out in the open,
no voice was silent,
back during the days of yore,
before debates were violent.
So many times of edgy speeches
were allowed and occurred.
When activists were able
to speak their mind,
now such honesty is so darn
hard to find-
Can we not speak what
we feel is our belief?
Now we all have to keep quiet
without true relief.
Our articulation gone missing,
we are hushed and confined.
When did it start, being on the
verge of placid moments?
Now we must be careful and
drown in apologies and atonement-
I remember when I could use my
pen to write with reality,
now there are judgments
claiming unauthenticity.
It used to be we could verbalize
ourselves with condonement.
To be honest there is not much
freedom to vocalize,
so many people lost in this world,
with offence in their eyes-
I do not blame those who try to
reach out and speak with accuracy,
we must be able to say the
facts with sincere veracity.
This suppression is depressing,
when will they realize?
Nowadays this world seems
to be so insane and hazy,
people live lives of foolishness
and are lazy-
We are not able to express
ourselves with candid conversation,
only bringing an obnoxious
and repugnant civilization.
If only we could communicate with truth,
instead of being crazy.
Ground Edges Poetry Contest
September 29, 2017
Another voice enters this information spectrum, omitting dictation unheard by anyone. Lost echoes repeating into thinned obscurity, forever unknown. But your words exist, some indefinitely; your original waves undulate through air from experience. Vocalize innermost thoughts offered by U.
Based on a poetry form created by David Williams: start by using a word beginning with 'A' then use a consonant, 'E' then a con., 'I' then a con., 'O' then a con., 'U' then a con.; repeat.
Paula Swanson
7/24/2011
The
need for
challenges.
To push myself
I open up and let my mind take wing.
Words, that in life, I cannot vocalize.
I gift myself,
freedom I
found in
ink.
For the contest:
Where Your Poetry Come From
Sponsored by:
Michael J. Falotico
Placement: 2nd
Written by
Paula Swanson 7/31/2011
A hand held out in supplicance, ignored,
wanting nothing more, than to feed a child.
The dry cough of an ancient river bed,
where once a great river ran wild.
The last leaf to fall from a tree,
when from mankind, denied a drink.
The slow motion action, before a wreck.
Those seconds, when your heart sinks.
The times when nothing that they say,
changes how you act or what you do.
The fall from grace, you try to hide.
From those who look up to you.
The words that flow from your pen,
that your tongue cannot vocalize.
Dreaded mortality, that is ever present,
reveals a clarity you humanize.
**Note: The shape of the poem, represents
the vessel that holds mankind's tears
For the contest: Sounds Of A Cry....
Sponsored by Michael J. Falotico
Placement: 4th
Germany, 1964
In barracks bare of beauty
I lay restlessly in bed. Around, a rife
of lifeless characters
from some Saturday charade
sullenly invite me to their ghastly parade.
I merely pull my blanket higher up
and blatantly yell out "Shaddup!"
A spot of flesh unknown to sun itches
so I scratch. Musty curtains run
in dusty ripples on their pulleys.
The room overflows with bullies
but I turn over in my bunk
and choose to spurn,
scratching a spot that doesn't itch.
I glance up. The light bulb top is dirty.
I reach up, unscrew the bulb,
lay silent in my patch of dark
and try, vainly, to extinguish
a more persistent spark.
The air around me reeks of smoke and beer,
is heavy with the weight of discontent.
I lie still darkly fomenting
an impotent dislike
for atmospheres like this one.
I writhe upon my squeaky cot and dun
and growl like some ancient,
burly, and barbaric Hun.
Vehemently, I vocalize my intense tension
with interjections "nice people" would never mention.
My secret cries are my pains I hide, hidden from the world to see.
Hidden so intense my soul became debility of weakness.
My heart hinders to collapse and deflates.
Completely of decay, secretly lessen for the amounts of importance.
Shedding everyday by natural process, my cries are easier to hide.
Hidden behind my diluted mask of faulty smiles, I portray when you are around.
As I wear with grace, deceiving you with an illusion of happiness.
I die a little more inside.
A cast away of pain, a cavity is what I became.
Over dosing the quantity heartbreak, so overwhelmed my heartaches. Now begin causing the feeling of great sorrow, never wanting to see tomorrows.
My secret cries of agony, a thought to die is where my truth lies.
Memories are influencing misery, emotionally and physically.
What hides behind my smile is vulnerability.
My cries vocalize, overflowing with tears burns my insides.
My heart is a furnace that burns for cremating my flesh of lies.
Keeps me feeling, as thou I am no longer alive.
Always walking through the crowd with my head up high, fore these feelings no one will ever find.
My secret cries therefore shall die when I die.
Then there will be no longer any secret cries to hide.
Nevertheless, until the day I leave this earth, my cries shall stay buried alive.
Before I die, a million tears will crystallize.
Solid as sodium chloride, holding my breath I visualize.
Going through my journey, I am thankful for the life before me.
Appreciation and recognition I rise in value and price, awareness of my life purpose.
It was all destine, and predetermine.
Before I die, I will realize all of my self-pride.
I will look forward to the future, whatever it shall be I will succeed.
I will have the strength when I begin to feel weak, and I will stand when my knees buckle to the ground before me.
I will learn to rise when I fall.
As long as I have breath in me, I know it will not be for long.
I will learn to love myself, and be true to myself.
Listen to my inner voice because it will never stir me wrong.
Before I die, I will vocalize my pain inside.
Learn to forgive as I begin to live again.
To be self-sufficient and embrace, independents particularly in patience therefore without any complaining.
Before I die, I will have endurance for my world of descendants.
I will learn to love a million ways, as I let my spirit gravitate.
Before I die, I will lay awake as my heart pulsates.
As my life flashes before my eyes, my body permanently starts to indefinitely, paralyze.
Before I die, my eyes again crystallized.
As I take my right hand and gently lay it across my chest, I begin to take a long deep breath. With my eyes shut tight every heart beat genuinely whispering cries I belong to you. Visualizing moving heaven and earth I thirst to touch you. Your love I lust…I yearn for you to wipe my tears if I shall ever cry. Your arms to hold me tight, your promised remarks of everything will be alright. Implying you’re here till the end of time. I lust to see your smile up close, to feel your heart beat as you hold me close. Lusting to be your wife, as God made water into wine I will make sure your forever mines. I lust to see you cry on our wedding day to be consumed with desire for my love you craved. Therefor never feeling like you’re less of a man. You know it’s you I cherish, our love so devoted. I will never judge you, my love is so true. I shall forever love you. Yearning for everything from you, lusting I adore you. As I hunger for your touch, so envious waiting. Impatient for your intimate kisses, I’m desperately seeking your intense lusting sexual attention. Your love is my weakness...My body itches to be your apprentice. I relinquish my body to you as a lifetime licorice. Craving your licking loving the closeness, my body quenches. My lips quiver as your tongue leaves its signature. Long strokes below my waist line, I vocalize for your appetite. As I lust into your eyes my passion erupting. I get greedy and needy craving your energy. Anticipation is all over me. Butterflies in my belly burn with intimacy, orgy devoted to our overindulgence fling….Forever Lusting
Her words are minced, like sweetened meat in pies.
She must believe that all of us are thick.
Be warned; she’ll try to fill you up on lies.
A pretty crust she makes to get a rise
from you! Her forked tongue gives that crust a prick.
Her words are minced, like sweetened meat in pies.
Half-truths she loves to softly vocalize.
Remember, though, that it is all a trick.
Be warned; she’ll try to fill you up on lies.
She’ll coo and soothe with words to tantalize.
She’ll have you hooked if you take just one lick!
Her words are minced, like sweetened meat in pies.
She also sighs and flirts with winsome eyes,
More ploys used by this very clever chick.
Be warned; she’ll try to fill you up on lies.
She feeds great lines! It’s all to strategize,
and if you eat it up, you can get sick!
Her words are minced, like sweetened meat in pies.
Be warned; she’ll try to fill you up on lies.
June 23, 2016
I apologize for the lies, I used for my disguise.
I must learn not to sympathize, but to empathize.
‘Cause my negative actions terrorize the people who I idolize and/or prize.
Therefore, I realize the fact I have to revise, minimize and sterilize my life, because of this, music is my sunrise, but only my passion for music can end my self-destruction or demise.
Therefore I need to rationalize my choices so I don’t get categorized or characterized and criticized for my evil side in which is the side of me I despise.
Therefore I vocalize (sing) and verbalize (rap),
To visualize my arise for being wise in my attack.
To recognize, penalize and exercise the poltergeist
or evil spirit which advertised the sin and lies of rap.
This is my attack, to rise, ‘cause rap today is
built on lies, so utilize your gifts and talents
to surprise, neutralize, baptize and revolutionize
a world of demise and introduce a world of facts.
I don’t wanna dignitize the world of media’s lies.
A true rebel today goes against the norm of the idolize of merchandise.
So be a true rebel and change today’s world of media. Listen to the message ‘cause the truth underlies.
So get this message because it mystifies.
These following I don’t wanna’s are mine and try to see my life through not yours, but my eyes.
1. I don’t wanna be locked up, I just wanna go home.
But I keep on doing wrong, that’s why I sing this song.
2. I don’t wanna cry no more, but I’m so depressed. But I’ve witnessed blood and gore, these feelings I express.
3. I don’t wanna be alone, I just wanna have my own. I will always sing my songs, trying to right my wrongs.
which is concerned
might convey
the necessity
and in it's
urgency of it's need
to coney these
thoughts
as concerns to
vocalize the
need of proper
means of having
words to form
nd be spoken
in the sweet
rhythm of speaking.
Verb and vowel,
adverb and adjective
that each conjunction
support, those words
that need support.
the urgency and concern
and the lack of causing each.
these words
came from the
audancion of
the orchestra :band and
sontress and malo-cantorouss'.
those who
need to shave
do so.
the nappy headed folk,
who need those
nap's straightened, let's do-it !
get the kink's and snag's relaxed!
tonic aint just for your brother.
and Honey, use tanning paint.
the seamstress will be here
shortly, write your request,
and tell the Tenor's the
USS Frigget Ship's donated
there mass, for the
fabric for their shirt's.
they smell like fish,
"did someone
sit on these shirt's"
people, people
get with-it !"
this poem is my take on weary blues by langston hughes
Langston hughes truly was a great poet and one of the best ever!
Bombilating a snappy euphony rhyme
Fingers crackling against palm and time
I heard a soul play
Down on dike street the other night
By the dark alley illuminated by car lights
Her words were a tail rhyme
Her words were a tail rhyme
The holy melancholy catachresis
Was an oxymoron to my ears
It brought life but was killing me inside to hear
With those ebony hands wrapped around the standing mic
She made that mic vocalize her soul’s cry
O poetry!
I remember fingers crackling against palm and nature
She spoke words turning carpe diem to a sweet cacophony imprisonment
Of syllables slipping off her tongue.
Sweet poetry!
Coming from a black Woman’s SOUL! cafe
O poetry!
In a deep performance, her voice rang
I heard the soul sing, and the mic cry!
“Lord, has she stolen your diary of my life?
Or have you given her the word to “kill me with poetry”
Her tongue has conversed with my soul tonight
Don’t let this sweet death sentence end
Let her recite my death in words again!
Snap snap snap, went fingers to palm
Her next words cracked lyrics worse verse against my unshielded heart
“ Lord what Is this poetry I hear? Don’t let it stop”
This weary soul needs rest in her words
For I know now the angel of death
Has shown grace upon me!”
I Got a weary Soul
And her words give me rest
I got a weary soul
And her words give me rest
But it’s killing me slowly
And far into the night that spoken word rang
The stars had ears that night
And the sun crackled snaps too, through the universe
To her words
The night of poetry, that soul on the mic
Retired home
While that souls words echoed through my souls expression
In the end, my walk began again, and my weary soul
Continued to search the world but found none like
That night on dike.
SINGING FROM MY BOOTS
I cannot sing with perfect pitch,
run up the scale, or down to switch.
I cannot sing in chords of E,
or vocalize in any key.
To hit a Sharp, will B a Flat,
I'm singing impaired, and That is That!
If there are four to harmonize,
then, tape my mouth for no surprise.
My throat can't copy what you sing,
my lips will tighten; my ears will ring.
The lyrics are known but, the tune is dead,
and the scales keep running in my head.
Yet when I go to hear a band,
I stand and sing; I think I'm grand.
The symphony will make me hum,
all parts of Mozart's requiem.
And when the Opera is my treat,
I make vibrato trill and sweet.
I hear the soloist croon with flutes,
he's singing loud and from his roots.
All I can hope when I open my mouth,
is north sounding notes, that never go south.
So if I stand with noteworthy troupes,
know that I'll sing from down in my boots.
-Edlynn Nau
August 18, 2015