Best Vortexes Poems
In a cynical realm where truth is tainted in black, rises she,
amidst whirling vortexes veiling reveries where she walks.
Yet society thrums thick skinned lies, whilst morning moon sighs in-
silence, seeing sunrise through eyes that mirror golden beauty.
Her persona resembles firm perennial petals like,
maternal warriors waltzing through wistful winds, singing the,
song of survival in loneliness through every forlorn night.
She's bestowed with selfless angels thawing wicked webs of,
time, freezing the rainbows hidden behind cloudless,
cerulean wrapped in balmy breeze blowing along cashmere climes.
She is her own sorceress with an invisible ring and
silver spells, her unbreakable spirit shines like starry
amulets of faith, sparkling across cold midnight skies.
She still composes calm symphonies in elegance and,
patience, whilst ignorant tongues concoct storms amongst all,
evil that reeks within a community that's-
ready to place names, find fault in words within the chorus of life, best,
written for the unheard voices ostracized, by merciless tunes of,
the past, where freedom fighters were left alone in the dark.
But she sprouts, like a sunflower growing in the cracks of emptiness and,
like an untamable warrior, she serves hope and love, that beams so bright.
“She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies;And all that’s best of dark and bright Lord Byron – She Walks in Beauty”
Let true love find me to be the ever fixed mark of constant gaze
The spectacle of her thrilling eyes, and she to me the dearest prize
A coral when the heart stampedes, or fickle fancy frivolous strays
For love must be a leash of common trust, the pole beyond the skies
So shall we not shiver when seasons change the wind and mist comes
A dark impenetrable fog before the yes, a marsh around the mind
For we by love is added as one, most accurate of all majestic sums
Trust must be the key to vision when love alone stumbles here blind
No arc of sight away in flight, bending ever to a proud inconstant sun
But holding hands we chart our course, finishing better than we begun
For all nature shall around us spin fresh vortexes of an ancient desire
But trust shall preserve us body, soul and skin only for our own fire.
What else shall by our light be drawn, like quivering moths must retire
Into the dust and cinders gasping at our feet, hope their fractured glass
Let true love be constant in this faith, for God's peace cannot expire
Through every storm his ways do hold, so upon him all anchors cast
So what then this buzzing, this jealous sound, is it of frail frying wings
Does some flame the fragile heart deceives, or nestless memory stings
Ah, sentinel not the virgin beauty of my sheets, my fortressed pride
This castle is built of stronger walls, the drawbridge is up, I'm alone inside
They ragged armies may their runted horses rattle until they neigh
Pure hubris, the harried hustlings, trust is a wall faithful and secure
To smooth for any tool to clasp, all tempted grasp will only slide away
And these walls have moats without and within, none crossed before
You alone have I shown where to swim, and how to unlock this gate
To you my center constant holds, only one holy grail keeps my faith
See not my stern behind my bow, point to the haven of your arms
See not my flags fly for you alone, your port the weather ever charms
It's firm the mast that keeps my sail, look from your castle, I come
O sweet the winds that drive me to your shore, what constant tide!
You the true Polaris of my compass stone, my fiddles and my drum
Love not all alone that carries me, but trust that steers me to your side.
Black moons on water, deep mirrors of dark
Dark glass where wine whirls in vortexes wild
Wild overfall sucking in seaweed and fish
Fish drowning in the madness of my inner child
Stay with me, wave demons away from my soul
Soul, anima mea, my fears of the night
Night is the time where my demons run free
Free me, please save me, bring me to light
Black moons on dark trees where owls sit and stare
Stare at me with round deep black haunted eyes
Eyes are the windows of tormented self
Self hate my monster to beat undisguised
One day I will see only sun in the sky
Sky, autumn breeze, I spread my wings... and fly
***
January 3, 2017
Eternal Teardrops
Eternal teardrops trapped in tangled tautological time...
Through the infinite voids, my liquid love longs for you,
admits dimensional vaporous vortexes a cosmic climb
Within each teardrop an ocean, a deluge of love’s bliss,
drowning in tenacious tears of the love that I will miss
With reflections of you in each drop drip before my view,
and moist echoes cascading in love's parallel paradigm.
Music Video by Martin Garrix feat. Khalid - 'Ocean'
Aug.08.2018
Rhyme Time 6 - Verses of Metaphors
Sponsored by: Laura Loo
#.1 for contest
WATERFALLS, RIVERS AND DROUGHT
The frenzied forces of cold, icy streams
detonate explosively on the rocks below.
Their rapid currents wreak havoc
on logjams caught in crevasses beneath
the mist and rainbowed spray.
We blink in awe to see this
spectacular remonstration
of pretentious power abruptly
become whirling vortexes
of descending splash downs.
But then, almost as quickly, this despoiler settles
and begins to accumulate in multitudes
of rippling bubbles and froth
immediately bleeding onto the embankment
promptly losing much of its potential goodness
swooshed as sucking sounds
into the wild soils of the firmament.
What survives roams free and for awhile
flows in any direction, with no beginning, no end
as the river turns into riverlets
Eddying on without any selected steering.
The rains that used to drip down from the mountain top
cry to see the diversions of the most glorious river
dissipate and dry up knowing that the drought
which has appeared can not adequately supply
sustenance to a parched soil.
For that sunbaked soil to be reclaimed
the river must continue to extend its reach
and water the seeds of new growth.
and use its silt to fertilize the new life
that waits anticipating its turn
in creation's timetable.
CAK 6-04-2012 Revised 6-18-2013
Energy’s Suffocating Gallop
by Odin Roark
Ancient blood soaked sand
Plumes its sticky residue
Beneath rapacious hooves
Dust storms of evil stampeding beside pipelines
Goad flow to tankers
Where ubiquitous black gold addiction
Steers toward pervasive profit-docks
Behind sweat lathered greed
Winds of historic baggage
Tether their historic words and song
Blessings and curses
Exciting swirling vortexes
Windmills of molten fire
Entitlement’s rape and pillage of breath
Of pores once absorbing purity
Evil’s global bubble
Appearing as mankind'
Robed in white zealotry
The blinded hawk-minds
Embrace the Middle East predatory contaminant
Wallowing in solipsistic riches forgotten
Awake only to pick tomorrow’s gluttonous prey
The world turns on turbine propulsion
With oceans bowing to its slavery
Delivering liquid smokestack suffocation
Silent killers preparing ghosts
Of time’s new-century-plague
Ignored
As oil gorged tankers find port
Release their pandemic sleight of hand
A destruction as innocent as rabbits from a hat
Charms the ignorant
Beguiles the wannabes
Wheeled transport
Delivers the demise of children’s hearts
Left to take a number
Unaware there is no lottery
Only loser-consciousness
Adult indulgence clinging desperately
To evil’s mane and tail
As it whips gullible eyes
Into cataract submission
Alien life hovers above
Grieving the minions destined
To find black energy’s ashen dust
Sprinkling its fool’s gold
Upon a barren planet
The Old Pier (a picture poem)
beneath the boundary layer of air and sea
twirling vortexes of frenzied waters
incessantly corrode
the aging pillars below
the ravaged tired timbers emit
anguished unholy screeching sounds
as ocean swirls beat non stop in and about
worn out planks attached beneath
the weathered decking
the riddled concrete sideling emerges
perplexed and whistles out its
protestations in echoes heard
across the raging tide.
in the bottoms underflow snail infested
warped planks buffer incursions of countless
schools of rabid predators that attack,
conquer, and devour unsuspecting aquatic prey.
above fishermen pray to the sea gods
to hook their water worn lines and capture
in songs of surrender the call of
a waiting bucket.
in timed release, ancient messages splash upon
silicon sharpened shores that resonate the sounds
of strident hungry seagulls
rummaging for their next meal.
wave upon wave of scattered foam wash over
brash crayoned streaks of blue and green hews
that seem to melt across and blend into
a continuous pallet of assorted colors.
at the same time the formidable forces
of untamed waters compete
in their final rush to win
the race to land's end.
C.A.K. 2-21-2013
I'm in the town called Tranquility absorbing the sun
Holidaying am I amidst the valley of said sins
Such joyous commotions viewing children's fun
Seeing happiness abound in wondrous spin
But it's the nature of being here, knowing it's begun
Cotton wool clouds caught by grayed demons be
It's just a matter of moments that they engulf all we
Next morning I awaken to skies of deadened grey
In the distance funnels of evil rotate their dread
Swirling spiral vortexes never shy in their display
Their ignorance now shared delivered imbed
Such her power no prisoners she now portrays
Overturned cars, houses adrift trees now stripped
If such were to be human on a drug fueled trip
God, build me some mountains to surround this plain
Allow said sins to be attracted to forever dissipate
Never to allow grief as such, these tremendous pains
Their height being there simply closes the vortex gate
Lets learn from said angers that they never will again
I'm in the town called Tranquility absorbing the sun
Holidaying where am I, seeing parasols in lightly spun
.
There was a species that thought itself smart
That lived without harmony in its heart
Used earth as a dumping place
While asking God for His grace
But God ordered it to change or to part! *
© Demetrios Trifiatis
09 June 2018
10-10-7-7-10
* Yesterday, June 8 was World Oceans Day. It was celebrated around the world to make us aware of the damage we have caused to our oceans.
They say that 6.3 billion tons of plastic have been thrown into them which means, as the General Secretary of UN has said, that by 2050 we will have more plastic than fish in the oceans.
Right now five vortexes ( Islands) of plastic have been formed and the largest one is in the North Pacific which is twice the size of Texas or four times the size of Germany.
This Limerick is my humble effort to raise awareness of the damage we have caused to our oceans and the risks our species takes!
I Stand Here- 'The Infinite Now'
I stand here silent within that vastness of mind
Awareness thru consciousness fleshly combined
Experiencing of emptiness with stillness aligned
Time and space with illusions eternally designed
Realities in constructing the Matrix surrounding
Third-density mirroring constructs compounding
Thoughts roaming thru naked echoes sounding
Words upon silence forever soporifically bounding
Past present future coexisting in realms synchronic
Vortexes of love thru hearts with speeds subsonic
Infinite now expanding thru virtual voids embryonic
Standing still digitally amidst secretions euphonic.
This poem is also a [B.R.]...backward reversible
Mind of vastness that within silent here stand I
Combined fleshly consciousness thru awareness
Aligned stillness with emptiness of experiencing
Designed eternally illusions with space and time
Surrounding Matrix the constructing in realities
Compounding constructs mirroring third-density
Sounding echoes naked thru roaming thoughts
Bounding soporifically forever silence upon words
Synchronic realms in coexisting future present past
Subsonic speeds with hearts thru love of vortexes
Embryonic voids virtual thru expanding now infinite
Euphonic secretions amidst digitally still standing.
Oct.13.2018
I Stand Here Poetry
Sponsored by: craig cornish
N/A for contest
At first there was nothing in the very distant past,
Then bang! There was everything, a universe so vast;
All splendid and magnificent, terrifying and mundane.
But before we knew all this, before we could explain,
About giant, burning, swirling gas balls,
And dark vortexes that swallow worlds,
Before we knew what made the light,
Our ancestors named the stars at night.
Polaris, leiðarstjarna, Sea Star, the Great Northlode,
not 424 or 308, not numbers and codes,
But the tail of a dog, the little bear's story,
The explorer's hopeful guide towards glory.
The heavens were filled with loved ones now gone,
With archers and lions, heroes and swans.
Every star had a story long before we knew
Their weight, their size, their age, their hue.
Without imagination, would the sky draw our gaze?
Would we ever see the Northern lights, its colors all ablaze?
We can feel the ground, we know it's there,
But we have to imagine the sky and the air.
Looking up, we watch the birds in awe,
Their graceful glides and swooping soar.
We are not birds; we know we cannot fly,
But imagination makes us ask "What if we try?"
So Leonardo draws a helicopter from imagination's sight;
The Wright brothers undertake the first plane flight,
Blimps and hot air balloons take to the sky,
and now man experiences how it feels to fly.
Every scientist already knows,
Without imagination no great idea grows.
From that first humble wheel to the latest Lamborghini,
From the first hot meal to the finest shrimp linguini.
From flickering candles to a bright electric light,
From using feathered quills, to keyboards when we write,
From burning wood and coal, to nuclear fission,
From dreaming of the moon to our first manned mission...
Knowledge helps us build a ladder, but can only go so far;
It takes imagination to reach for the stars.
A boulder looks down upon her children below;
Varied rocks worn smooth by the creek’s swift flow.
As the bright sun glistens on her lovely rust hue,
She shares her delight of her little ones in view.
Sedona holds mysteries in its monoliths high. . . .
Best known to eagles as they soar through the sky.
Manzanita and oak trees that line the creek shore,
Offered desert shade as we ventured to explore.
We climbed the airport mesa to relax and meditate,
We traveled there to celebrate my fiftieth birth date.
My body sensed a special tingling in that hour
Of the vortexes strange, vibrating power.
I photographed my husband gazing sunset skies.
What was captured was a view unseen by naked eyes.
As the film later revealed, a huge crystal hanging in mid air,
Sedona’s awesome gift I am now blessed to share.
*For: Most Awesome Paranormal Experience Contest
Sponsored by: john freeman
Global warming's changing our world,
as deserts increase, farmland shrinks.
And ancient glaciers have no ice,
the sea's dying and the air stinks.
Weather upheavals forecast gloom,
as rivers flood altered courses.
And torrential rains drench the earth,
a shift in natural forces.
Virgin forests scared by fire's flame
leave barren soil to rot and mold.
And mountains of water-soaked mud
slide down slopes, unable to hold.
Volcanoes erupt in the depths,
birthing tsunamis at their rim.
And waves rise to devastate lives,
where water is too swift to swim.
A spotted sun bakes the ozone,
tinging twilight, ocher, and rust.
And tornados chew up the ground,
vortexes grinding life to dust.
Earth rebuffs belated efforts
it's too late for token repairs.
For Man forgot one basic rule,
nature governs earthly affairs.
(Quatrain)
0/8/2016
at the wall
of the corpus collosum
you might think
that you'd know some
things about what brings
together logic and art
and what sets them apart
sittin' before a splendid splenium
to see if it's possible for any to see 'em
and fire up a conversation perhaps
banter a debate, maybe birth innovation
the genu might kneed to genuflect
what the heck!?, it couldn't hurt
could it? - should it?
think how good it
might be fiddlin' middle ground
between the cortexes
'steada makin' things so damn complex
like relationships between the sexes
it feeeels so good but the gettin' there
is more than most thoughts care to bare
mosta ya know what i mean don't cha?
tellin' left from right - whadda scene!
doublin' back double-crossed schizophrenia
contending points of merited academia
versus some bucolic life bohemian
"on the other hand" tends the phrase
when truer to minds thought vortexes
it's back and forth between the cortexes
times added to divided houses
many times, times many thousands
© Goode Guy 2013-07-09
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Corpus_collosum
Sun sets softly in linen blue sky
Towards it flock of geese will fly
Among the tall grass Stonehenge will lie
From the distant realm God will look upon his creation with divine eye
Through the center stone during summer solstice when it is in zenith sun one can see
But that does not reveal Stonehenge’s destiny
Exactly why in the center of this beautiful meadow stones erected would be
That is the enduring mystery
Numbers can grow beyond infinity beyond all control
But what is their limit from point of view of the soul
Even if one breaks the laws of physics one does not reach the soul
What is the power of stone circle if it can weave that very soul?
As vortex suspends time
The vortexes of soul weaver suspend next profanity beyond time
The depth of numbers created there is sublime
Anyone who can use them to their advantage is nearly divine and prime
If one wishes to go beyond destiny
One must leave behind numbers and their continuity
The abyss one must see
But soul weaver in his next step can go beyond destiny and to that point attached philosophy
All this will come to pass when in the center of Stonehenge flower will grow
Flower of spellbinding beauty from which sun’s rays will flow
Flower that from silver blue tears of the moon will grow
Flower in the center of stone circle through which spirit like wind will blow