A parallel universe, intricately crafted by God-
A realm where the rhythm of existence is inverted:
One day devoted for diligent work and six for rest.
Here, perpetual, invisible threads unite us all,
Insulating a peninsula from the chaotic hodge.
The premise behind this poem, What does cloud 9 mean?
A state of bliss, elation or happiness
cloud nine (uncountable) (idiomatic) Often in the phrase on cloud nine: a state of bliss, elation or happiness. quotations ? He was on cloud nine for days after she agreed to marry him.
I wonder whats on cloud nine
I wonder what its like up on cloud nine,
Would the weather up there be fine,
Would the storm in my head clear,
Would it free me of all my anxiety and fear,
I wonder what it would be like up on cloud nine,
Would it just cross over country borderlines,
Or would it take me up into the sky,
Would it take me to a city in clouds up high
A city ive only ever imagine in your minds eye,
A place of peace a place where life is beautified
That's free of impurities and the evils of our world,
A place I could only dream of, I guess it is a Dreamworld,
Oh how I wonder what it would be like on cloud nine
Would the weather up there be fine,
Would the storm in my head clear,
Would it free me of all my anxiety and fear,
You belong somewhere in the vast cosmos
where the idiomatic idioms were born
I started to wonder and cry,
Lord, have mercy; this is not I.
I felt as if years had passed! along with age! farewell
oh, we soar to an infinite place to dwell.
The last goodbye was the hardest,
we never got to say our final adieu
remember how we danced near stardust?
They say that tears are a sign of weakness,
so I held back my tears
to ease the pain, I buried it in the hollows of my heart.
Yet, they poured into my empty soul
tearing me apart with deep cuts
even the most idyllic love must die
was it not because of love's cries?
will leave a scar to stultify it...
I shall bleed and grieve till the wounds heal
making room for unworn pain,
to experience sorrow again.
Written: February 05, 2023
1st place contest winner
I Felt Like Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Charles Messina
Here’s idiomatic lines for nine.
Why does a stitch in time just save nine?
Why’s possession nine points of the law?
Indeed, why did the cat have nine tails?
Perhaps it’s because it had nine lives?
Why would someone go the whole nine yards?
Should cats and dogs be cats and canines?
Is this poem a nine days’ wonder?
If not, then I will be on cloud nine!
written 13 May 2021
checked with Poetry Soup syllable counter
When the world was youthful
spiderwebs sang as they were spun.
Language was woven in the air
as accents of winds and trees
conveyed by an eloquent sky.
Untrammeled meadows annunciated
upon the lips of dens and burrows
scooped by shrew, mole, and vole.
Fresh bathed daisies signed a speech
as they swayed,
buttercups birthed calligraphy’s of sunlight.
Giddy rills gave voice to fritillaries
that flew to the sun or moon.
Words were idioms painted upon
the melodious leafage
of the up-risen and rising.
Then that shaggy brat
the primordial ape it grunted forth,
translating its gripey gut
through the clack of a creaky tongue.
Guttural and gregarious
it learned to babble and
belch an oral discordance.
It yapped and yawped,
yawped and yapped
until a spoken language
verbosely pivoted to prolix
polluting the very airy air.
Then it was
that a nascent poet boldly stood
rhyming would with could
until even the dumbest of his tribe
understood
and cheered him fit to bust
while the green grown world
with all its idiomatic kin
lost the will to express
as before
for the fluent earth again.
And For Some The Abstract Is Real
It may be that the concrete image of a milkmaid’s stool,
It’s splintered and worn-shiny wood grain, gray-brown,
Three legs supporting a two inch thick oak round,
Twelve inches across, even in the mind of a fool
Can evoke a poetic response, the thought near-real;
A Germanic root is more oomph-palpable than a Latinate,
Yes, and it’s smoother, easier to say “the cat that ate”
Than “the felus catus that consumed its meal.”
But those of us lost in a verbose cerebral vector,
(Excuse me, I mean a too-wordy place)
Intoxicate ourselves with the oblique andobscure nectar,
(Er, uh, get drunk on the sweet drink, whose meaning is not plain)
Distilled from the idiomatic remnants of an ancient Roman lector.
(Oh, you know, brewed from pieces
Of language with a Latin stain).
endless
boredom,
isolated
renditions
survive
to provoke
enchantment
end route..
intrepid
segments
juxtaposed
with irony-
a mocking
pretence
meagre
yet subtle,
idiomatic
syncopations...
..to frustrate
as
I deliberate
endless
boredom,
isolated
renditions
survive
to provoke
enchantment
end route....
intrepid
segments
juxtaposed
with irony...
a mocking
presence
meagre..yet..
subtle,
idiomatic
syncopations..
...to frustrate as
I deliberate
absolutes,
abstracts of the absurd
ordained sounds
or
incoherent ramblings,
notions of the infinite:
rarefied thoughts
random
eclectic ideas
idiomatic
incomprehensible
on
first sight
then
oblivion beckons
While in course of writing
Some words appear spontaneously
We see a new face smiling
Though not meaningful literally
Such suddenly cropped up medium
Of expressing our thoughts and music
We aptly call them idiom
That captures the shadow elusive
Only the other day in a composition
About the picture of loneliness
I wrote the words without hesitation
‘Page after page keeps crying empty’
Let me quote the whole extract
To make my viewpoint more exact
“There are times when the river leaves me
Robbed of all chime air is paranoid
Page after page keeps crying empty
Lost into barren blue, moments annoyed
Getting into thick crowd broadens the void
So sitting alone with dark Pink Floyd”
____________________________________________________________
July 27, 2016
For the Poetry Contest: Create an Idiom
Sponsor: Jesse Day
Note: My poem ‘Blank Pages’ contains this idiomatic expression ‘crying empty’ which many fellow poets in ‘Poetry Soup’ have read. I do nurture a thought to refer it to some competent forum like Oxford Dictionary for their opinion.
I speak to you in parables
In this idiomatic riddle filled way
Because I fear the blunt effect
Of being plain spoken
I saw the rainbow and the sun
In the words they uttered
I felt the hot breath of certainty
In the rise of the collective sigh
I sensed the rich aroma of promise
In the feasts of their colorful fiesta
I saw you fall for the poetry
In the juxta-positioning of words
In the lyrical simplicity of their promise
In the elegant catch phrases of victory
The swift ascent of their ambitions
Caught in the undergarments of our shame
Embarrassed by the exposure
You chose to wait and wait
And you sang and sang
Laughed the bitter ironic laughter
Composed elegy and dirge
Prepared for the next upheaval
Every resonance
that seems to bring into life
It makes one's being
a likely confounded mind
yet leavens its fleshliness
03/25/16
Note:
* "Like a bee in a bottle"
is an idiomatic expression of
resonance
*Thus, this poem has something
to do with the law of resonance
4th placer in a contest (April 23, 2016)
me, myself and I
take turns doing many tasks -
afterwards, we play!
For the Senryu on Your Own Existence Poetry contest of marvin celetial
(Based on the idiomatic expression: wearing many hats; for me, life is full when there is much to do, but it's interesting, and also, there is much fun to look forward to!)
The coin operated word association machines tumbling out fresh expressions from old clichés one’s own peculiar way to say enhancing your everyday routine though the true meaning may be complicated
This My Voyage
When vitals have boarded victuals,
Why concern the sundry?
When soileth I nobody’s cake,
Why stall my thrust?
For this’ my voyage
And I esteem none a judge,
But one that journeys idiomatic.
Perhaps lost in the way,
Yet I’m established in resolve!
And nothing matters more.
For countless have eyes parochial
Peeping through life’s crevices,
But this’ my voyage,
Eventually that my urge
In consolation should reside.
This journey’s got phases
And besets sublime,
Upsets soon become my avocation,
Joy scintillatingly employs
And a comedy my scene becomes!
Albeit in refuge, it’s mine voyage
Hosting none a grudge,
My raiment not to tarnish.
I cherish no voodoo
And dance not to the storm too,
As the stars’ glim up there,
So my treasury gleams in here.
I’m packaged enough
For this my voyage,
Esteeming none a judge
But one that journeys idiomatic.
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