Long Stipulated Poems
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Written: May 12, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann
Quote: “Set yourself on fire and seek those who fan your flame.” By Rumi
**********************************
I sliced through the strings
that thawed my dreams in shadow,
tossing them into the time tiara
of celestial orbs and supple styles.
Periwinkle-plum dawns defy time;
Bright blooms grow in cosmic cracks.
Dusk falls on barren land, esoteric embers;
With an aching heart, I walk alone,
serenading with blue lotus meteors.
The wand of Kismet gleams akin to stone,
as cinnamon-glazed magic unravels.
Each shift is a fascinating fight—
light-flecked drape, lyrical elixir, elegies;
curling mulberry-leaf marrow fades.
After the kernel, I strive for clarity
without crash or catharsis, without pain.
A lovely wind touches my smile—
In the pulse of erased promise.
An impending divorce is stipulated.
In echoes of exquisite and ubiquitous,
lavender-sequined crystals of shift,
I sail beyond the rhyming reefs to embrace divorce.
Cut wistful strings, salty lines, diving into rhapsody...
Torn uncanny links below heavy waves,
free to explore unmet routes
amid vanilla plankton tears.
May I find solace in every crooked teal smile.
O, if sepia pearls and reverie state a split,
I release and love what is not meant to stay.
Even with moon megalomania, using past wisdom,
the plants wide wings amid the warm sky
and herbs flexed with a deceased breeze of joy.
I sip in the glorious, gold-and-cherry air,
Clouds of bewilderment have dissipated.
In a captivating cosmos, clarity clings.
Hunger, turmeric-tinted roses follow an idyllic climb,
and whispers shout boldly—unafraid, Nix!
Ominous night glows appear as we fly across the sky.
We claim our position under brilliant beams
and the rose-glazed moon,
while myths merge across endless twilight.
Heartbroken after its fateful odyssey,
among the stars, free from a fixed kismet.
I will sleep calmly, wishing for plum rings
to create a pearlescent paradise.
The Estuary of Esoteric Embers
laces my home with soul-searching chimes,
whistling away in flavors of forgiveness.
2025.4.14.
I have started writing diary since May last year.
Eventually, my diary's style, transformed to poem like.
After five months of losing friendship with BB,
By the end of the year,
I rested a bit. I was emotional exhausted.
I started posting my poem in mid January this year,
When JC introduced me to the poetry world.
Every thing went well so as
The on and off friendship with JC.
Until last Saturday, when he messaged me
He would call me in the afternoon.
I prompted him to read the poem I posted that morning.
My poem was a bit like a riddle,
Which challenged him to find me.
Instead of this, he went further and read others,
Which I disclosed my true feelings,
Through reading his book and from my observations,
He found my poems offensive
And furiously ended the friendship.
How he reacted to the situation was expected,
As I found the way he stipulated in his book.
But he crossed the line by breaching his written agreement.
Which stated "No negative and abusive language around me"
His F word had actually helped supporting my decision,
To me, F stood for finish, farewell, and final.
I was very upset, not because the friendship ended,
But mainly because it took so long,
To make him realised, we had nothing in common,
But too many differences,
Like our up bringings, and culture values.
Different interest and different life value.
I had set clear boundaries for him to observe,
He firmly agreed in writing.
Now when he was upset,
He bounced back and accused me of a F...... Gamer.
From the beginning, I had made it very clear,
The only thing I expected out of this friendship was
A fun and joyable travel companionship.
However, things went wrong, from one point after another,
It took me a while, but I remained calm and in control.
JC, it was not important the way I or any one spoke of you,
It was how you really presented to the society and the world.
It might as well goodbye as you said thar magic word.
My epitaph writ large...
courtesy third person singular.
Mise en scène pour décès
pardon his feeble attempt at French,
a unilingual English language
quibbling, and scribbling mensch
strongly advises applying
left handed monkey wrench,
which custom designed tool
assigned impossible mission
to discern sense and sensibility
regarding following poetic thread
subject of a fool's errand.
Mein kampf witnessed, punctuated,
and evinced courtesy final breath
automatically triggering (tumblr
to activate) final curtain call
and unremarkable death.
As stipulated in the living will
cremation of his lifeless body
cremated into soft gray powder.
A prerecorded hashtagged obituary
downloaded to individual smartphones
and simultaneously appeared on
the following poetry websites:
COSMOFUNNEL, Hello Poetry,
Neopoet, My Poetic Side, Poetry Soup,
PoetryNook, PoetryVibe, Prose|
A community of readers and writers,
and All Poetry.
He hesitated and lost out
on game of life big time
even fumbling crafting reasonable rhyme
noshing, spending, and whiling
inordinate amount of hours
squirreled away in his bedroom
surrounding himself with reading material.
He amassed fountainhead of knowledge
quietly engorging cerebral gray matter
whereat noggin swelled up
rivaling globe, but Atlas shrugged
at him, whose head
resembled the first Chinese brother
who swallowed the sea.
Odd his voracious appetite
to buzzfeed with one
after another binary byte
zealous precocity to engross himself
with storied reading material
that does extremely excite
(at the expense of healthy socialization)
where his imagination took flight,
nevertheless myopic eyes of his
did glean insight
keeping his cute button nose
between pages of choice morsels
to appease hunger
keeping himself awake
drinking high test coffee
during darkness aided by jacklight
processing meaty material with might
experiencing abundant, exultant,
intoxicant, over-extravagant
joie de vivre day or night,
a balm, elixir, inebriate... quite
the panacea to abet emotional incapacitation
which entails crafting poems
oftimes spending efforts
with efforts undertaking rewrite
unwittingly garnering a fanbase
courtesy ideology doth unite.
Like a reclusive boat, I remained there,
discerning the prevailing winds of change,
which many a time, made me embrace fear,
by surpassing the stipulated range.
When winds of change blurred the light house's light,
I blanked out and forgot my wonted route.
Struggled, wiggled and jiggled without sight
amid the sea, and there a hope sprouted.
Even when vigorously slapped on face,
and ruthlessly elevated mild tides,
it's a toilsome task to shudder ,sea base
and that's why I endorse her as a guide.
She persuaded that it's not writ large force
that help us win; it's just our inner source
Nov-17-2020
From hunting comes
From hunting drums
From hunting hums
All bright stars
Near and far
In New York or Trafalgar
Those stars in skyscrapers
Those dazzling gold vapours
The government shapers
The controller of all papers
All go on hunting
And keep counting
And measuring sometimes too
In the treasury
Keep your eyes open
The lids may shut up
Keep the cup wide
You will see everywhere
Ensnaring unaware
The tiger killing the helpless deer
Deer who love destiny
Who worship deities
Members of the laity
Dependent on goddesses and gods
In their odds
Fall very easy prey
To the hunters obsessional play
Their God has no say
In the decay
By hunters in dust they lay
Shrunk tottering mewing aching
Finally breaking down
Into the absolute immobility
Thanks to the myriad kinds
Of the guns of the hunters behind
I perk up my ear
In the civilized forest
And hear the guns
Nuns and monks are in readiness for nursing
Churches mosques temples towering for services
What a grace
My every molecule encapsulated in attention
Hears the sound of the gun
And feels the consequent death
The blue sky we love so much laughs nonetheless
The ground underneath
Is moistened in crimson red
Black velvet
First hunt the doe, a decoy
Leopards and tigers follow in joy
We are all pretty toy
In the hands of the hunters
We look on in wonder
Of grandeur of the capital
Take or surrender
You may grunt
Fruitlessly
Willy Nilly
You have to join the hunt
____________________________________________________________
30/10/2016
Not for contest since the lines have exceeded the stipulated limit which I failed to notice when I first read the contest details.
Your sultry sensual look I still embrace
As I think of those mesmerizing violet eyes,
My heart then quickens and starts to race,
If only you knew what you still do to me.
Whose fault was it that sad sad night,
When you spoke those unjust words,
Was it meant for me to run away in fright,
If you only knew, how much I still love you.
Maybe it was me, or perhaps it was you began
An argument that was bitter, that left me mad,
But know that when you ran away, I also ran,
If you only knew that I could never forget you.
You dazzled me, with your graceful, swan like neck,
Frolicked with your cleavage, your creamy breasts,
Rising and falling, knowing I desired, needed you,
If only you knew that you were the soul of my heart.
I ran after you to catch you, but I was too late,
The rain was pouring you tripped, hit your head,
I picked up your lifeless body, it was your fate,
If only you knew your death was the end of me.
Written for Silent One's contest
However Not Entered as the stipulated number of poems was met.
WHEN MISHAP CAUSED THE ENTIRE STAFF OF
THE nwwa WRASSLIN COMPANY
TO BE DISPLACED BY A MISHAP.
THE COMPANY ALLOWED
A LOW RANKING MEMBER OF THE COMPANY
TO RUN THE TELEVISION LIVE SHOW.
WHEN THE CALL CAME THAT THE PRESIDENT WOULDN'T BE HERE
NEITHER WOULD THE
RANKING MEMBER OF THE CHAMPIONSHIP COMMITTEE
AND HIS OPPOSING COUNTERPART FROM
THE CHAMPIONSHIP COMMITTEE,
THE COMPANY ALLOWED A CREWMEMBER OF THE
CAMERA TEAM TO
RUN THE NATIONAL SHOW.
THIS WAS UNIQUE AND
WE FOUND SOME MEAN SPIRITED PEOPLE WHO HAD
GRIEVANCES TO BARE
AGAINST THIS
VERY POPULAR COMPANY.
THE WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS LOST THEIR TITLES, TO OPEN THE SHOW.
THE nATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP WAS CROWNED TEN TIMES DURING THE SHOW. ( ON AND OFF CAMERA)
THE WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP WAS HELD-UP
AND DETERMINED A NEW CHAMPION
VIA A FIVE CORNERED FREE FOR ALL.
THEN CHAMPIONSHIP THEN WAS CONTESTED AGAIN, IN A BOUT THAT PROVED ON ANY GIVEN NIGHT
ANYONE CAN BE THE BEST IN THE WORLD.
EVEN IF THE CHAMPION HAD ALL THE ODDS AGAINST HIM
WHEN A UNDESERVING UNRANKED AND UNTALENTED GRAPPLER
ROSE TO THE OCCASION TO BECOME WORLD CHAMPION.
HIS FIRST WIN IN THREE YEARS,
HE BECAME 39(L)-8(DIS) 6(C-O) 1 (W)
THE ACTING MEMBER THEN ( SCARED TO HIS WIT'S, HE DAWNED A MASK TO HIDE HIS FACE NOT TO BE KNOWN BY THE MEMBERS OF THE STAFF AND THE ATHLETES HE WAS IN CHARGE OVER)
WHEN MADE THE DECISION TO CREATE A NEW PAY PER VIEW IN VIEW OF THE PUBLIC ( BOARD ROOM DECISION)
A MEMBER OF THE ATHLETIC COMMISION STEPPED UP TO OVERRULE HIS AUTHORITY)
THIS CREATED SOME TENSION ( IT WAS VISIBLE)
HE DREW A PICTURE OF A TROPHY, AND CALLED OUT TEN WRESTLERS
FROM TWO CORNERS HE TOLD THEM, WHOEVER IS THE LAST MAN STANDING WINS THE TROPHY, THE RULES WERE
ELMANATION COMES FROM A PINFALL IN THE RING OR IN THE RINGSIDE AREA, A COUNOUT WILL HAVE YOU TO BE SENT TO THE LOCKER ROOM. AND
HE STIPULATED, WHEN THE MATCH HAS FOUR CONTENDERS,
A TAG MATCH WILL FIND TWO MEMBERS VICTORIOUS, AND THE WINNERS
WOULD COMPETE TO BE RECOGNIZED AS THE TROPHY WINNER.
HE THAN WOULD NAME THE TROPHY WINNER THE NUMBER ONE CONTENDER.
WELL IT BECAME A CLASSIC MATCH.
FOUR REFEREES
AND TEN CONTENDERS, ELIMINATION STYLE
AND THEN A CLASSIC AUSTRALIAN RULES TAG MATCH.
WHEN THE WINNER WOULD THEN COMPETE TO BE RECOGNIZED AS THE NUMBER ONE CONTENDER.
The power depends on the people’s will
They were taught to believe this at high school
But as practice has shown, powers like to kill
And the people are forced to obey under rule
So the contract between the people and power
Looks a bit stretched cause it was preset
Do I need a law how to water my flower?
My goodwill’s stipulated without my consent?
And now you self appointed judges get loud
Condemning me for the war in your garden
But you've got the wrong address, dear crowd
Type the proper number of your chosen warden
Am I not responsible for lunar eclipses yet?
Mustn’t I write an explanatory note
On three A 4 sheets of paper, so that
Could be cheerfully taken as my absent vote.
The night you left with our love's wilted flower
the gloomy sky was falling down in gentle shower.
In the soft streetlight I saw your sodden silhouette
slowly disappear in the wet haze, I couldn’t forget.
The scene sank deep in the maze of my memory,
for years weaved the tapestry of our untold story,
I thought someday I’d spread it on my poem new,
the only one I’d dedicate to our times and to you.
Memory has a strange habit of making dream,
in deep sleep they appear, unreal they don’t seem.
One night my eyes on edge of sleep saw you return
the way you departed, made my mute heart churn.
I opened the door, went out to let you in again.
The night was dark, drenched by the pouring rain.
I stood alone hit by the splash of cold water spray,
eyes sleepless, I saw sleepwalking dream melt away.
(In order to meet the rhyming scheme the poem exceeds
by one line over the stipulated 15 lines which I could not
help for the sake of the form)
Posted : July 16, 2018
Contest : Sleepless Old Or New
Sponsor : Carolyn Devonshire
On Christmas Day,
I heard someone ringing
The bell of my secret door,
That same which hides my haven,
A place known to me solely,
A place which allows me
To wear my crown and to decide
Of life's rules without anyone
Trying to push his or her will upon me!
I rose from my throne
And opened the door ever so slightly,
Peeking at my visitor fearfully,
As if,
I were a little girl, too scared of life
And of its shadows to even dare
To venture out by myself!
Who is it? I asked the visitor
It is I, none other than your childhood memories
It is I,
Who have come to feed your heartbeats
With both warm and teary sceneries
Of how life once was
So as to have you understand
That,
As stipulated by the skies once,
You are to be attached neither to anything
Nor to anyone
For the world shall be temporary and transient
For as long as it would be!
Come in,
I said to my visitor
Open up your bag and let the memories flow,
While I pour you a glass of wine
Open up your bag indeed
And allow my heart to soar upon the waves
Of emotions as they rage through my oceans
Because
Life's changing nature
Has pushed me to give myself a new birth,
One which allows me to pamper myself with self care whilst
Forsaking the rest
Simply because I am seen as the misunderstood one!