Long Coinciding Poems
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COLLECTIONS
so relevant
to
explore
always
unashamedly
unsettling
swirls abound
reimagined
&rendered
figuratively
in
vigorous
scene
with
hints
of
the occasional
amidst
the static
immersive
perhaps holistic
fashioned
as a kind
of
contrast
a
triumph
of
allegory
represented
by
beauty
in energy
by way
of lightness
coinciding
with
the odd
vision
that’s
so precise
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
Bound by constructs of the mind,
We use Time to define,
The current line, we're Riding.
Coinciding with Destiny.
A Journey, set by You and Me,
Before we could see,
To experience Reality,
Separately.
Spontaneously designed,
We are Unified.
We are all Tied,
By a Chord,
Heading toward Victory.
No more Trickery,
Let your Truth set you free.
Be who your creator,
Made you to be.
Perfectly planted seeds,
Bringing harmony,
Disarming hate.
It's never too late.
Embrace our fate,
Change your mental state,
Dictate your place,
As a Divine Being,
Using Time,
Traveling as Space,
Helping evolve our race.
Time divides the line,
We define the ride,
Coinciding with the Divine,
Colliding atoms combine,
Creating the outline,
The vibrations shine,
Aligned perfectly,
Reflecting colors in a design,
Collecting together intertwined,
Winding through space,
Finding a dense place,
Playing chase with particles,
Articulating a form,
The normal procedure,
Reality's best feature,
As we build our creature,
The teacher of this experience,
Experimenting with existence,
Measuring distance in increments,
Continuing to make imprints,
Each instant forever embossed,
No moment is ever lost,
Reach across your limits,
Admit you created it,
Sit within an open mind,
You'll find time open wide,
Dividing the line,
Between now and the Divine.
Fireball rise red lazer ray has spear horizontal
Sending a shedding of angel wing span blessing
Busied birds converse beneath apricot mottle
From dawn huddle, welcome warmth suggesting
Splendour awaiting, drive Wednesday to Pacific
Three beach night stays after so long, a year's wait
Travel to shore infinite, lapped sand map terrific
Coinciding coastal followed day, I'll turn thirty eight
Egg fried ocean, toastily popped tomorrow's coast
Simmering indigo pot turns turquoise shimmer
Crash marvel intensified if today I'm able to boast
Comp entered in June has judged mine a winner
Whilst very unlikely my little poem will number
Against names recognised, English professors
Threw my lines in the mix so regret slid asunder
In the year of realising poetry's divine pleasures
22nd September
~=============================~
This is important to realize. This is really happening.
The prophecies of the Bible you deem a "fairytale" or
"non-literal" are coming to pass at a frightening speed.
If you find today's events to be coincidental coinciding coincidence with what was foretold, then I am astonished
in your incidental faith in accidental magic that is against
all mathematical probability-times a convergence of multiple instances...converging in the exact prophecied way, at the same time as the heavens have given us celestial signs like never before. As God has told," there will be signs in the moon the stars, distress of Nations..."
Mr. Gates, like Mr. Crowley,
you are a playing with people
using the Devil's tool-box.
You say in order to habitate in society
that it will be mandatory to have digital identification, vaccine data, biometrics,
compliance with ideology of the un-elected elite.
Are you not saying outright, that you and your people have taken over and are forcing us to do your will?
passengers gather while their turn awaits
very few standing out
except for one, sprawling along my seat
room for me, just about
awkward two-handed pillow cupping head
beyond waking, no doubt
long brown trench-coat, boot soles with rugged tread
next train ! should I nudge him ?
needful resting or chemical stupor
not for me to judge him
why interfere ? his world, his well-earned dreams
very hard to budge him
startled, distracted, nearly miss my call!
still he is not shifting
urgent rush on-board, his image fading
sit back, eyes uplifting
spy those familiar curls, grey wooly hat
conversation drifting
earwigging, eavesdropping across the aisle
their words come and go
tune-in and filter out the ambient
expose their to-and-fro
they are other people, not my business
but still I want to know!
his mature companion, black-haired beauty
she smiles, ten years older
for them, no others on their train of thought
like coinciding spheres
bodies tilt towards overlapping touch
as space between them clears
carriage swaying to their sound, back and forth
they listen intently
animated, probing his next response
she lectures him gently
university trends, what does he seek?
he replies attently
predator woman and willing victim
marooned oblivious
to those furtive glances, the flapping ears
attuned assiduous
audience pleasured, unfolding theatre
cocooned delirious
rails switch, clickety-click, clickety-clack
asks his destination
the one just coming but then no surprise
no procrastination
they stay together with no track of time
end-of-the-line station
reality tears, they remain enthralled
their mobiles uploaded
walk on by, lowered voices on the cusp
demeanour encoded
then lost in the crowd, I wish them both well
destiny railroaded
TONGUE TWISTER
Fantastic fun on scholastic enjoyment
assessing accessing accepting accent,
pointing permitting possible permutation,
claiming cunning clever combination,
sorting syllables on restricted selection
yielding rough tough pronunciation.
Neither fumbled nor jumbled being wobbled weak.
No boredom, speak random speedy quick.
Talk faster ignoring protester.
Wrap teeth and tongue to entrap
Ralph Malph’s mouth agape
bombarding bewildering audience
with competence, confidence
and coinciding Tongue- Twister.
01/11/21
Third Place
' Tongue Twister Challenge' Contest by Joe Sandler
Obituary of DAVID FRED JONES-
Here we gather today to pay homage of a lost brother whom lived and died
We honor him with are presents as we mourn his lost of live in this plane and time.. Today we celebrate the life of he whom we know and loved..
Obituary
Name: David Fred Jones
Nicknames: Dave/Too Tall Tavid
Date of birth: Thursday 11th January 1979 (Age 40)
Star sign: Capricorn
Nationality: British
Ethnicity: Mixed
Social class: Middle class
Religion:Agnostic
Sexuality: Straight
Education: PhD Business and Political science College graduate
Political views: Left
Relationship status: in a relationship with Wade Emma Dean(engaged)
Probable age if death 62
Probably cause of death killed during an extreme ironing competition
Coinciding with chronic lower respiratory disease heart disease from falling off a cliff
Funeral noteworthy attendees...
Wade Emma Dean, aged 70 girlfriend
Weston Herb Norton 62 friend
Elsie Israel Jones (nee Craig) aged 92 mother
Maximus Sonny Jones 67 brother
Kelly Ashton Shannon ex girl friend
Rest
In
Peace
DAVID FRED JONES
~1/11/79-5/12/19~
5/12/19
The Last Flower
For centuries there thrived a magnificent garden
But decades of decay made the ground harden
And year after year more flowers began to wilt
Coinciding with monoliths recently built
Some people have the audacity to ask why
While others insist all that exists will one day die
But when the sun is hidden by smog
It obfuscates life like fog
We suffer today and sell tomorrow
For future generations will feel that sorrow
In a world without any power
And eventually a world without any flowers
For centuries there thrived a magnificent garden
But decades of decay made the ground harden
And the last flower has begun to wilt
As the monoliths collapse do you feel any guilt?
And they'll tell you they tried and tried
As the Earth cried and cried
Your children's future was sold for profit
Because green gold is the modern prophet
In this moonlit masquerade are a lot of dancers
Feeding the frenzied fury of a thousand cancers
Perhaps humanity's greatest blunder
Is bumbling along as it all goes under
The reality is that nobody cried
When the last flower finally died
But the reality is it left us daunted
And all a little haunted
For centuries there thrived a magnificent garden
But decades of decay made the ground harden
The death of the last flower left us without rhyme
As we truly begin to run out of time...
The dogs are banned from fields of green
lest anyone should “step in it”
yet 50 geese just landed there
and no one tells them where to “..it”
Masked bandits prowl the streets at night
trash can clamor in the alleyways
making their rounds on scheduled trips
coinciding with trash collection days.
Dawn’s silent rise cues “Places please”
dark curtain rising on a dissonant din
Daybreak’s un-tuned opening - wings without wind
scratching open eyelids that can’t close again.
Beneath soft silent moon – a courting joust
that sad horrific sound – a lover’s spat
a noise to make an air raid siren cringe
the hissing contest - suitors of my cat.
Lo, the glistening distance of train track
reflecting the history that they bore
reminds me that the four thirteen Topeka
lies beside me in a locomotive snore.
©5/6/2018
submitted to – A Rant – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Shadow Hamilton