I often wonder if it’s worth the effort
with a keyboard or paper and pen
to pour out my thoughts, heart, mind and soul
from the ocean and rivers within
The marrow in my bones
hidden deep within these veins
“This universe is a miracle,”
I’ve heard Einstein once proclaimed
Though admittedly, I’m not near his kind
(far beyond my likes, by stars)
I merely try to follow those
I think know where they are
A few more miles ahead of time
“Out yonder,” my dad would say
where I can only dream of writing
a splendorous sonnet someday
Or perchance a valediction poem
a goodbye to the past
or my rendition of a benediction
thanking Hymn for all the love that lasts
And open a few doors with some metaphors
enjambment or anapest
find inspiration from alliteration
while striving towards my best
Thus, here I rest in the morning air
inhaling hope, exhaling despair
as birds fly bye and gentle winds blow
and pray more thoughts of beauty will flow
© Terrell Martin, 02/25/2025
Deep dark clouds, blackened each other, and a darkened sky, unfolds
motifs taming tenth around an unbridled mayhem , a hardened solitary oasis
Unruly a mayhem, entropy to the fullest ecstacy - obscure a causal willy horizon, enjambment
An absorbed night and a maiden skyline trembling fearful and uneasy
Again and again, a sudden surge of lightened whims, whistleblower preposition
Lightning followed by lightning struck in series, cacophony of the call lit up the dark oblivion
Trembling and shaking, the tempest and the gala, in the twinkle of an eye, on and on
Darkest deep overshadowed the heap , black and the glory
The clouds and the thunderbolt , a sleepy sky , speechless and without a clue
Awakened all of a sudden ,a bit salt of the poseidon, turner of the muse and the seven seas.
Raga: Megh mollar
Taal : Trital
Composition (Bangla 1289)
Composition: (AC 1882)
Raga: Chayanot
Taal: Ektaal
Composition (Bangla Calender): 27 ashar, 1317
Composition (AC) 1910
Place: Gorai,Janipur
Song attuned: Surendranath Bondopadhdhay, Bhimrao Shastree
Home
Songs
Meditative Contemplation
65
Within cosmic, cosmos, thou art an enchanting flute, His own
Thine within mine intertwined a delight, hence a light hearted evocation
Diva in so many colors, aromas, melodious trochaics
Unprecedented thou an enjambment in mine, a light along the flight of a heart song, arose
Thine within mine a blossoming soothing hue, so ably parable, so in muse
The greetings whence seasons meet the horizon, the eloquence unlocked
The oceanic sea world and the foamy dew, a drop, a subtle nuance, humbled then
Within thine, enlightened the silhouette, submerged my body, a glow, amen
My teardrops of salt, serene, my own glum and glee, turn and toss
Thine within mine a blossoming soothing hue, so ably parable, so in muse.
6:05 PM
8-26-2024
Motivational acknowledgement
Associate Professor
dhubert@uchicago.edu
Foster Hall 211
773.702.1333
D'Hubert CV
punctuation walks
on eggshells
when
words like
water
falls
flow into nothingness,
soaked in syrupy syllables
behind veiled vowels
assonance is the twin of
consonance as
a e i o u
are an
unfinished bridge
without connection
of consonants
weaved together
in visible
unspoken actions
woven without words
just like rhythmic meter
of thunder with lightning
like a lost refrain in a poem
assembled with enjambment
metaphorical reflections of a
reflective metaphor portray a
m i r a g e less sincere than silence
value blossoms
when the body adopts
a gospel language
where speech
is unnecessary
unless expressed
through true
dialects of conduct
without the use of
lyrical accessories.
Phantoms roam the night with ease,
Their haunting presence makes us freeze.
With silent steps and ghostly grace,
They glide and float through time and space.
Their wispy forms and eerie glow,
Send shivers down our spines, you know.
But fear not, for there's a guide,
A psychopomp to be your side.
A jolly ghost with a wicked grin,
He'll take you safely through the din.
So don't be scared of phantoms here,
With our friend, there's nothing to fear.
A rose gave up her secret
Of its origin – of its beauty –
In the shadow of her crescent –
Fiercely hushed once to me.
She told me of a plan of love
And a Master Gardener who
Has a touch of silver that betrothed
The rose to the morning dew
And described a plane in between
Nothing and a foundation –
The design of which is unbreached –
That lies in an unmeasured dimension
But her exact words were lost
To the enjambment of my memory –
Moreover – my comprehension lapsed –
Found lost inextricably.
SILVER-LINING
Cheated life occasionally yet it couldn't play even.
In life's sequel, I'm swivelled into a deep sweven.
Where's conventionality in a cosmos that's so odd?
Everyone that ever rocked my world
I've dexterously dovetailed into words;
Lyric, ballad, elegy or love sonnet occupies 2-thirds.
Every single trusted love I've ever lost
and that ignorance had collaborated with lust,
I've resuscitated in verse, stanzas & enjambment;
And ameliorated into memory or emotional strength.
Bathed in past disconsolation and the aftermath,
I've never & will never remain on the same wavelength.
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Form: Rondeau Prime.
Copyright© December2022.
An interesting muse has form,
not a template of something else,
but its own odd shape.
This muse, for the time being,
is sensually curved like a Ruben's nymph.
It has dimples and plump folds
even though it is a phantasmagoria,
a thing of no reason or sense.
After a seemingly unnecessary stanza break
it morphs once more.
Hieronymus Bosch’s long nose
peers out of a whales birthing canal.
A giant turtle holds the whale upwards
toward a crystalline sky.
A chilly sea-song
is sung by an Alaskan mermaid;
she is either a fishy popsicle
or a lady being swallowed by
can of Tuna
depending which side-up the reader reads it.
The shape now falls apart,
becomes a mythological heaven
where the shapeless dance naked;
only their pink toes and
belly-button eyes can be observed
through a pinpoint of perception
but that is more than enough for a short poem.
Eventually, a crunched-up ball of paper
speeds away defying critical analysis
and the objections
of the openly open-mouthed and non-plussed.
Enjambment- they happen -
most now must publicly admit, that if nothing else,
this has a uniquely shaped rear end.
You have been my enjambment,
The who i used to call tangent.
Your looks connived,
And i was conviced .
Yet you left without a notice .
I saw your messages
Tons like spiderwebs ,
They struck my heart ,
A jibed such scars .
Dear my once was my happiness
And so you know ,you gave lessons
For i am not a fool ,
For i was never a tool ,
Those heartbreaks and headboards ,
Will one day make me a perfect lover .
Nobody wants a well, when there is sadness...
A few drops are enough, to bring on rain!
The world is full, of sorrow, and of madness!
Nobody needs the bottom of the drain...
The purists count emPHASis and sylLABles!
They like to see beans laid out, in a row!
They have no patience with an one, who babbles!
Believe the Sun should not put on a show!
But... we need purists, for they keep us clean!
Demand a higher standard of the lazy!
They state: 'it's not enough to be serene!'
(And unneeded enjambment
Drives 'em crazy!)
But we can only meet their standards, if
The while we write, we're clinging to a cliff!
Can an earthquake judge its own tears
of fury and frustration
Can a sunlight assess the black stains on a rose,
its creation
I don't know precisely but as my eyes move
up and down my poem
I myself am almost lost into a prose where
no river is flowing
I started with the metaphor of the letter
alpha
With the intention of crisscrossing
to omega
In between your hands and feet got entangled
in the bush on the hills
So much so that I now find the poem
going haywire
Why so happened, I feel it's better not to
inquire further
Even so, a few connoisseurs happened to taste
the flavor
Feebly radiating from the apples most of which
looked stale
The cracked crimson, yellow and green were growing
pale
Still the few likes made me bold enough
to keep out of
the rain and hail that had broken out
while I read
the 'also ran' poem with no distinct course leading to
the desired omega
I read it once again alert to the erratic enjambment
Rated it 'honorable mention'
No, the apples have started gathering fungus
I deleted honorable mention
Dated 25 March 2019
The truthful liar mesmerized no one
Even his most fervent followers fell short.
We watched his interchanges which seemed crazy,
And his bragging and grandiose plans abort.
His love seemed wrapped up in his loving buck,
Stealthy snake-like purport with enemies he would consort.
Boom! He was on the TV. Crash! He threw out a tweet.
Snorting, chortling, boredom ripe for a big red port.
We watched him boast and brag, some disgusted be.
Formative finance foreman finds a forever fort.
Political dissonance turning our country upside down.
Misogynist buffoon yelling fake news as a new sport.
Thy vileness and thy nastiness befouls thyself,
Thy fantasticalselfishness flamboyantly galantort,
Reinforces our mindfulness that being President is just a sport.
Lines 1 oxymoron 2 enjambment 3 homographs 4 inversion 5 homonyms
Lines 6 internal rhyme 7 onomatopoeia 8 consonance 9 hyperbaton 10 alliteration
Lines 11 metaphor 12 allusion 13 archaism 14 neologism 15 dissonance
Written 8-19-2018 Contest: A Litany of Poetic Devices
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
‘Is love not bitter’? I repeat once again,
‘Think with your brain ’it can make you insane.
Rejection pierces my heart like a sharp sword,
Makes me move faster and slower than old ford.
Pain grips my heart with hand of stainless steel ,
Love poisoned my mind which makes me sick still.
Feel flared and foolish for being taken for ride,
My soul rides beside the dead bride with pride.
As my faith in love vanished into deep sea ,
I want to be free and sting like a bee.
Which makes some heads and legs not to comprehend,
This has brought “more joy, less excitement” my friend .
I’ve vowed not to fall in love…anymore,
but some still believe in it and its glamour.
Line/devices :
1.aphorism 2.pleonasm 3. Simile 4. Oxymoron 5. Personification 6.Metaphor 7.Allitration 8.Internal rhyme 9.inversion 10.pun 11.Synecdoche 12.Paradox 13.Ellipsis 14.Enjambment
8-17-2018
Contest: A Litany of poetic devices
With her in my sight,
Her breast did i long to clasp.
Then,did her display elate me,
But now she'd wroth a story.
The radiance of her eyes,
Toss me around like a dice.
And when she push out her lips,
In enjambment did my hand give them tips.
Then,her gown swept away locality,
But none can again fit her charity.
Her beauteous beauty and it sorts,
Is now away from me: virus bought.
Oh,how i wish i can again clasp your breast?
And again peacefully on my pillow with you have a rest.
C.2017
Do not come into my head cause I do not have time
to think of anything else than you
never think
I do not come to your head cause I do not have time
to think if you have anything in there
apart from me
25th of April
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