Insistently Poems | Examples

List of Member Poems

Premium Member Where the Silence Flowers.

I wrote the word
        then—  

lifted
        it  

from the page
and something

    (not silence)  

opened underneath

a small dark root
taking hold

where the word
    had been  

not grief
no—
not yet
only the hush
            after  

a name loosens
      from the mouth
           and does not return

The words I buried
            did not die  

they turned
pale

listening

whitened underground
drinking—
            slowly—
                      the ink
                                from my crossed-out lines  
feeding
           on refusal
                  on absence

until

the page
              itself

begins 
          to open
               after midnight

not with speech
            never speech  

but with petals
            insistently  

     pressed
             pressing
                   against the paper

            from  

                                                   the other side

Premium Member Dear Callie

Our dear Callie sure loved getting fed.
She was queen of our house and our bed! 
Wanting breakfast, she'd creep
up to me, fast asleep,
then insistently tap on my head!

Wems Henry Temmy Psalm 56



I've been told many a time to fan Chelsea
That my darling club is not worth my time
That Arsenal will never bring joy consistently 
For all the love, time, money and energy for support
Not to be in waste without any trace of payback
Oh the so called blue; her weight put winnings on knee  
Yearning of the past glory as their prime 
Yet hope nothing good is for ARS. insistently
But claimed her players, maybe are distort 
Keeping at heart the soon to come winnings-- back-to-back

Mortify reproach; let Arsenal shock them 
That those who run never have those crawling condemn


National Poetry Month

Ghost, River, Shiver, Gaze, Wicked, Cold


Someone stood by the river,
I was glad I wasn’t going to be the only one,
I was to come with my grandfather,
But he had been unwell.

I greeted the man,
He only nodded in response,
I gazed at him but he seemed oblivious to my scrutiny,
He was busy with his net,
A cold wave of unease washed through me.

As I pushed my boat to the river,
Suddenly the man offered me his net,
I shook my head,
His hand was still insistently stretched toward me,
I looked into his eyes and saw a glimmer of kindness,
I shivered as I took the net, 
I silently prayed that the spirits of my ancestors guide me.

I thrust my boat further into the river and paddled to the centre,
I looked in the direction of the man,
He waved at me,
I cast the net into the water
And noticed a continuous ripple on the surface,
I tried to pull out the net and noticed it was heavy,
I summoned the strength of the spirits,
The catch was sudden and massive,
I glanced toward the direction where the stranger had been,
He was no longer there,
“He wasn’t a wicked ghost after all,” I thought with a smile,



April 14, 2025.

Premium Member A Spider is Not an Insect

This poet has most incorrectly checked 
The little box which indicates "insect." 
This poem, I therefore flatly reject. 
I sharply reproach the writer.  

A spider, never an insect, was. 
I say this insistently because, 
He should say "sorry."  Until he does,
I remain a concerned spider.

Premium Member We Wait

The world awaits with bated breath
pause, listen and most all feel
there it is, a deep sense drumming
in the back ground coming to life.

we all feel it, indeed yearn for it
insistently wait for it to come
then all of a sudden we can feel
the gradual warmth winter is defeated.

He shies away taking with him the freeze
allowing SPRING her rite of passage
everything comes back into blossom
almost battling each other for its space

All around we see new tender leaves
feel her warmth stirring things to life 
watching birds fly to and thro building
busily their nests for new hatchlings

Riotous notes peel out thrilling us
as delightfully they fill the skies.
Snow drops fading as crocus fill
beds with startling shades of colour.

At last we can peel of the extra layers
wear our pretty clothes never can we
match Spring's awesome display of style 
Indeed she gayly leads us towards Summer


Premium Member Memoranda An Open Form

MEMORANDA

complex
visual
riches
evaporate

expectation
unrealised
in
contrasting
symmetry
where
reciprocity
lives
to
concentrate
dominate
&
  process

where
relentlessly
insistently
eccentricity
is
affirmed

Resolution

The year is over so I promise,
in fact insistently I swear,
I will not drink, deceive or gamble
or swear.

Premium Member Narratives

NARRATIVES
sources
of
principle
so
  evident
sagas
of
speech
in action

particularised
species
striking
  figurative
virtual
&
effacing

a prescence
with
a steady
purpose
in
faded metaphors
intent
 in aflow
to hinge
attention
&
define
a measure
to emerge
impromptu
casual
  multi-layered
elaborate
yet
simple
&
subtle
insistently
implicit


NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE   using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand

Premium Member The Sea Beckons

The sea beckons.
The air is heavy with heat,
the sun fries the streets
shrivels up trees
and I feel parched.
Tired I trudge towards the waterfront.
 
Still the sea beckons.
Sweat runs down my face,
wets my unshaved face,
dampens my collar,
as I plod towards
the pebble lined sea shore.
The small waves glimmer,
winking in hot rays, 
inviting me to cool myself.
 
Insistently the sea beckons.
Summer is at its worst.
I hobble down
towards the beach, 
pull down my clothes
and stand in the sun's emissions
wearing my swimsuit.
 
Constantly the sea beckons.
I trudge towards the water's edge,
jump in and then
come out quickly, yelping.
I feel a jelly fish sting,
it burns red across my thigh.
Disillusioned I tramp back home.
The sea beckons no more. 	

21 August 2021

Premium Member Where Are the Universal Themes

Where are the universal themes,
the parables, the parallels that might
be drawn from humdrum, quotidian
happenstance?  We languish in these ruts
we live in and bear our days with resignation
(some with equanimity) -- justifying
our inaction, our failures to break free,
with feeble lame excuses -- never a real cause:
which is, succinctly, our timorous laziness.
A broadening of perspective, a striving toward the epic,
the grandiose -- with, perhaps, the universality of
civilized urbanity, or of rural natural simplicity or even
stark objectivity --  may these be what we need? 
Here's the stale conclusion: be daring, 
brave enough to become accustomed 
to a singular (perhaps lone) existence.
When you must, be fair and listen but,
when you should, be insistently unbending 
to the pressures and opinions of your peers.
And use your mind, your unique voice, and
proclaim incessantly your messages,
even to those who turn to you
their stubbornly deaf ears.

Face To Face With Hangmen

First, a phone that insistently rang,
Soon, a voice that croakily sang,
Then, a door that did as insistently bang
And a steely chain that knew how to clang…

Next, a calmly approaching unsmiling gang,
Face to face with him, they should hang
And relaxed the bastard watch against the pangs
From their boa-constrictor-mimicking ropes with cobra’s fangs…

And it was to be a torture fully intended;
Its former arranged duration evilly extended,
Victim’s final lifeless body made to lie supine,
As just that to any onlooker should be fine!

Intruders

INTRUDERS



She brought with her a bus queue of troubles,
All waiting for a place in the warm dry seats of my ears:
They trampled my quiet like Mexican spurs,
Insistently prodding me to respond to her fears,
Ringing my stop bell, dropping ticket stubs 
Under the seats where a brush won’t sweep
And a mop never rubs.



9   April  2021

Savagely Spent

My soul seems gone
life
withdrawn
a murder scene
scoured clean.

My heart appears dead
expiration
ahead
darkness despair
sheer nightmare
hellish abyss
medusa’s kiss.

My mind feels slain
savagely spent
on maggots lain
injected infected
this disease
destructions intent.

My being is hollow
spilled out
bloody wallow
oasis of scum
unrequited love’s
kingdom come.

Everything is lunacy!
absurdity
pervades so brutally
insinuated
insistently
beyond reason
love’s season
near senility.

Give Me a Call

Give me a Call

I am prettier than you
(in complete darkness) -smarter too
(when I give no tongue) -I’m an angel
(when heaven fails) a dancer, a singer,
a multilingual,  polyphenomenol, unsolvable
crusade of mystery, always and insistently
(when mixed with ethanol) but, best of all
I’m no one at all! 

Give me a call ;)

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