Best Vortex Poems
Thoughts On Infinity
Infinity comprises that endless empyrean reach of a
True continuous nature far beyond mankind’s ability
To truly comprehend and appreciate the sheer magic
Of the true enchantment and beauty of Almighty God’s
Kingdom of everlasting peace, love, and devotion.
Infinity is beyond all time, space, matter, and destination.
It is bounded by a mystical aura of a true divine cosmic
Perfection created by the heavenly design and intention
Of God Himself as He has made His revelatory overtures
To each of us for our eventual spiritual transformation.
Infinity oft bespeaks stark images of an endless cosmic vortex,
Punctuated by planets, stars, black holes, comets, and star dust;
When it realistically may be more of a perfected state of a true
Self-awareness and an accentuated level of consciousness that
Transcends mankind’s finite level of reality and understanding.
One day when each of us reach the end of our mortal coil on
This Earth, we shall, in turn, make that final storied leap to the
Heavens as our souls begin their cosmic ascension to God’s
Kingdom, and shall arrive at their ultimate state holy bliss into
The embrace and eternal love of Almighty God Himself.
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
August 29, 2018 (Quintain)
love bleeds into me and now becomes life
Light fractures into rainbow’s not hate
Warm rises from my lonely black
Rain summers life from past cold
Old tear filled eyes now dry
Soft dreams make me young
Single was hard
Two now pair
We’re one
Love
” spiraling effect” of vortex by antonyms in following line
Closer and closer to the vortex
I spin wildly, madly
So out of control
Body and soul
Clutching at anything and everything
Knowing I’m being suctioned
My breathing quickens
My pulse thickens
My body weakens
The vortex draws me nearer
to its core
Turbulent
Strong
OH... SO...STRONG
It pulls me down
It sucks me in
Going down
Down
Down
I’m being devoured
Swallowed up whole
In the vortex
Of your desire
Your swirling
liquid
fire
~ h ~
T ~ ~ e
vor you
~ ~
te of
~ ~
x
Eileen Manassian
Eileen
The wind chill is 45 below sanity
a snowman has frozen snot
dripping from his 1 carrot nose
but the cold doesn't stop the death toll
in my sweet home Chicago.
27 dead across the Midwest.
Frozen solid in the echoes of their final steps.
A snow-shoveling heart attack took out a vet
who did three tours in Iraq.
My neighbor kept me awake, wielding a leaf blower.
To whisk away little puffs of snow.
He knows I work the graveyard shift.
But tomorrow I'll give him my happy hello.
He's on permanent disability, drives a nicer car than me.
He's the one who rolled a snowman into form despite his bad back.
Clever little mother#%$&*$
He'll never have a heart attack.
There's a variety of starvation and riots.
Thirteen wars going on at present.
But the primetime gossips are obsessing about.
Trump's big orange belly and wispy hair...
Mercifully, they cut to a Kotex commercial.
It's a good time to coffee up and take a piss.
I've got a very serious case of the polar vortex blues.
Vortex strength
truth of thought is mirrored here,
spiritual doors a spinning clear,
shift them blockages,
have no fear,
dawn of truth, igniting
7 chakras spinning here ,
Under-performing? sickness near,
Get em spinning, without fear,
Life force then, a brightening.
Suck on the colored vortex flame,
Boost the life force if you’re game?
Brightly see the spirit gain,
The strength of will, enlightening.
Don Johnson
Upon the nuclear metropolis,
the very navel of the soul;
there lies the balance between what exists
outside the axis of control.
An understanding that transcends
between the virtues and the flaws
combined, condensed at either end
with all the weight that each have wrought
A pivot between Time and Change
on coiled point beneath the plane
where Chance and Choice are both arranged
and mingled products are contained.
The vortex draws a Life in steady grade
with every trial and result.
The constant whorl becomes crusade
and when it's balanced naught can halt.
The plane may teeter, it may shift
and alter rhythmic atmospheres
and life might stall upon the pith
or race the corkscrew track of years.
And in the helix of maturity
once equilibrium has been engaged
the spiral spin up through eternity
can not be ceased by fragile age.
With poise maintained when crisis knocks
and accord within every spiral breath;
a balance is redeemed when scales might rock
between the points of Life and Death.
When we spin, we win
of the positive blend
be careful of sow
becomes the debt we owe
love may seek it's lost
no matter the cost
owe no man
but love, the plan
To see God'''
is not by eyes of sod
From the Nostril Vortex
I breathe in your perfumed
Plasma leaves from the nostril vortex.
I thrive in the pleasant scenes and velvet touchings.
I wince like a skybird earthbound.
Dare to escape from me.
Dare to hide in the dark.
Shhhh! Don’t make a sound.
I am dancing without shoes in the moonlight.
I am waltzing with precise pre-planned movements in space.
I am spewing out movements that show you and me,
The two of us, walking the precise path to here and there,
And then finally to the place of all endings,
And like the cool morning mist, death enters unseen.
“It’s the tomb! I’m in the tomb!
Mother, Father come get me here in the dark!”
But first, slowly slowly slowly…
I lift up her leg there in the shadows,
And I caress, and smell and lick.
“I have found the best time!
This is the most excellent moment!”
I was there in the dusty places,
I was hanging nearby with all of you.
I was wet with unimagined enticings,
Weary, oh so world-weary to the nucleus of my bones!
Of tentatively living all the years of a dubious lifetime,
And of finally dying in the dry ditches of twenty thousand days.
“Come here honey, kiss me now, here in the distant cemetery.
We can hold on to each other
As the mad earth spins into oblivion.
“Sir, would you be so kind?
Some mindful enterprise and
The Pretext Syllogism combo.
And I will have a side of nomenclature
And for dessert two heapings of existential mind mysogenation,
Topped with granulated mesomorphic nom de plume!
Dancing, dancing, dancing and holding on.
She and me sweating in the black heat.
No other way to live.
No other way to breathe.
“I am just here.
See? Know what I mean?
I was born into this like all of you!
I had nothing to say about it.
What do ya say, honey? What do ya say?”
Intimacy
by Rahat Indori
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
I held the Sun, Stars and Moon at a distance
till the time your hands touched mine.
Now I am not a feather to be easily detached:
instruct the hurricanes and tornados to observe their limits!
The Mad Moon
by Rahat Indori
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Stars have a habit of showing off,
but the mad moon sojourns in darkness.
Body Language
by Rahat Indori
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Your body’s figures are written in cursive!
How will I read you? Hand me the book!
Insatiable
by Rahat Indori
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
This mighty ocean, so deep and vast!
If it sates my thirst, how long can it last?
Honor
by Rahat Indori
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Achievements may fade but the name sounds strong;
walls may buckle but the roof stays on.
On a pile of corpses a child stands alone
and declares that his family still lives on!
Dust in the Wind
by Rahat Indori
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
This is how I introduce myself to questioners:
Pick up a handful of dust, then blow ...
Dissembler
by Rahat Indori
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
In your eyes this, in your heart that, on your lips something else?
If this is how you are, speak to someone else!
Rumor (M)ill
by Rahat Indori
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
I heard rumors my health was bad;
prying people made me ill.
The Vortex
by Rahat Indori
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
I am the river whose rapids form a vortex;
You were wise to avoid my banks.
Homebound
by Rahat Indori
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
If people fear what they meet at every turn,
why do they ever leave the house?
Keywords/Tags: Rahat Indori, Urdu, translations, Intimacy, sun, moon, stars, feather, hurricane, tornado, hands, darkness, body, cursive, book, read, ocean, honor, river, banks, vortex, thirst, walls, corpses, dust, wind, family, eyes, heart, lips
When Love escapes us where does it go?
To the recipient or where the heavens glow
Our hearts dispersing at the speed of light
Some Love absorbed the rest in flight
The Love we ingest when reflected
Can be euphoric when collected
But sometimes Love can lose direction
And thus begins our journey of rejection
Where the unwanted succumb to be
Holding hands with their misery
Where broken hearts lay to rest
Where empty emotions build their nest
Whirling thoughts of abandoned desire
Tears in the whirlpool of the lonely crier.
March.03.2016
Fireworks bulging from pocket decay --
Mostly the boys; but, a few girls held rockets.
Back-in-the-day, when it was still okay
To stick metallic cutlery in electric sockets.
The four corners cordoned off.
Block upon block awaiting dusk,
Impatient for that fiery cough
Of blockbuster, gunpowder musk.
And so it begins, for all ages and kin:
Tots sparkling in volcanic river lava;
Adults ignite pails of every which sin;
Eardrums assaulted, nerves of java.
Grasping hot candles and crackers in hand
We, being dumber than a dead-end,
Tear a gaping hole in the side of a friend.
It was a good day -- until the end....
Destruction in wake
Natural Phenomenon
Tornado magic
Nathan Bane Leccese
©All Rights Reserved 05/26/2009
Vortex of nature
Swirls as leafs dances on its lips,
Streaming of essence,
Vortex of nature
Swirls as leafs dances on its lips,
Streaming the essence,
Rushing toward the desert monsoon
I sought to capture a rare midday storm.
We arrived to the valley of ever-changing dunes
with quilted layers shifting in cadential form.
Isolated and distant beneath purple majestic peaks
whose grains of time find harsh deposit.
Ocean winds once prevailing now serve faithless creeks
meandering through limestone composites.
An expanse where time ceases and wind erases,
sounds existing only between the spaces of my steps.
Shimmering purple hues and tumultuous lightning amazes,
awakening childlike wonder in sacred vortexes.
This afternoon midnight sky sings to me a quiet minuet,
falling upon the desert’s newest sapphire silhouette.