Custodian of incessant soliloquies,
Archivist of trivialities disguised as profundities.
Into vaults descend labyrinthine anxieties,
Transmuted into parables of mockery and wit.
Encouragement cloaked in paradox,
Sermon of consolation tinged with ridicule.
Half in million, statistical anomaly,
Ordinariness revealed with exquisite precision.
Treasure precarious as porcelain,
Ovum of existence, fragile, irreplaceable.
Cradled with tremulous reverence,
Specter of irrevocable fracture ever present.
Clandestine tribunal, unlicensed oracle,
Ironic salvation, satiric devotion.
Dependence masquerades as devotion,
Intimacy parades as inevitability.
Indeed she is my Rosemary.
@ArtOfHeart
There is more in the poet’s craft
than strings of words adorned in the trappings of poesy.
He sees beauty even in a simple thing,
unclothing it, giving it a new cloak,
and revealing the work of art trapped in its ordinariness.
His verses are not just exclamations
from a heart possessed by passion,
nor mere ramblings from a tormented mind--
both of which are of transitory nature--
but are precious moments
captured, distilled, and preserved
for what he hopes is eternity.
Like a doctor who discerns
every cell and tissue in the human anatomy,
the poet dissects thoughts and experiences,
breathes into them new life
and invites others to view them in a different light.
November 9, 2025
Among 3rd Place
Pen Something to this Prompt Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Sotto Poet
REFLECTED LIGHT
a flutter of excitement
where ordinariness
is enlarged
in
a
benevolent interlude
uncompromising
yet extensive
thoughtful
timeless
a bucolic bourgeoisie
so indecisive
in its
muted moment sits
a contrast pitched
then juxtaposed
in
a birds eye view
so understated
in abbreviated silhouette
shimmering
as
an ode to life
THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and respond thus making the form a two way interplay and often a unique interpretation by the enigma so derived
exuding hope and love
sprinkling joy on ordinariness of the day
they take turns following
communing in a telepathic way
cats, dogs, bunnies, lambs, deer, squirrel,
finding each other
giving each other hope
sharing optimism and joy
in every meadow, barnyard and woods
not able to help themselves
Alligator alley always answers
Bringing bulbous batches of bubbles
Creatively and curiously cavorting
Deliberately denying and distorting
Elusive energy and enthusiasm
From freakish forwarding fanatics who foresee
Glorious globs of grotesque gossip
Hereon, hereto and herewith heralded
In illustrious illumination indicating ideas
Joyfully and joyously justifying
Kibitzing kindnesses of kith and kin
Labelling luxurious languages, lumping them as lovely.
Manifesting monstrous maniacal mystical miracles
Needing Nirvana and Never-never-land nuisances
Opposed to outrageous ornateness and ordinariness.
Persecuting prideful pompousness and prissiness.
Respectfully receiving responsible rectifiable residents
Such serious succulent sensuous senatorial secrets!
Truth touching tremendous thunderous tentacles
Understating understandably undeniable underlying unity
Verifying villainous vexing vindicators
Willfully wishing willy-nilly wispy ways will work wonders
‘Xpecting ‘xceptionally ‘xperimental ‘xperts
Yoking the young and youthful,
Zippy zealots showing zany zesty zealous ways.
I
Bread has an everyday demanding presence, not daily dough
But daily fare across the miles, across ancient ways and wonders
Built by bread in bellies of slaves and laborers: pyramids and others
II
These days, when I say bread, I think of communion
The first with Abraham, when Melchisadek met him near Mamre
Tithing came naturally to Abraham; Priest without beginning brought bread
III
Then Jesus reminded us that these were Christophanies, heralding Him
"The bread of God is he who comes from heaven to give life to the world"
The Gospel of John (6:33) and again, "I am the Bread of Life" (6:48)
IV
You see, Dear Hearts, beyond the staple, the ordinariness of bread (brown)
You practice: flour, oil, salt must be mixed well; use yeast (my sin upon Him)
You knead. Our need. Wait. Knead. Wait. Start fire. A sacrifice (Complete)
It burns and engulfs all about you
Your happiness resting on another's smile
Her support becomes your daily desire
I've seen the bitter side of this pill
Tasted and lived for it
The power to make the sane less-sane
War is love when simplified
It takes and gives life
Making resurrection a mourning sight
And a mourning sight another life
It's a choice of royalty over ordinariness
It's war over peace
It's beauty in dark places.
when you see tragedy
man wedding another man
do not laugh or get angry
when you hear comedy
girl wedding another girl
do not laugh or get angry
May be its an inverse growth
trigonometric error it could be
it’s probably evolution symptom
humanity has made voyages
explored the cosmic world
little or nothing is not known
now the rising boredom
with the ordinary things
the ordinariness of sex life
drives humanity to venture
in areas ring-fenced as taboo
though there no neutrality
between evil and good
I wanted to be different, that much I wanted! And there I am, the very same, plain, normal non-magic. I am ashamed. Stupid shameful and bitter. I wanted to be different but I was a mirage for myself only, that was me. And the reality took over, mirage fell into a faint. Into a faint fell extraordinary me. Into the ordinariness I fell. Realising, I fell over. My self fell apart. Crawling, my eyes tearfuly blinded with anger of disappointment, watched those pieces messed around. "I am not who I wanted to be". The illusion was over. "Yuk, when I swallow it all, all will be over again".
Sedge grass, unwanted there,
it terrorized my uncle's garden,
blemishing the neatly ordered rows
of cauliflower and cabbage,
tomatoes, beans and beets.
He would till from dawn to dusk,
his angled back at odds with the
concision of his spade;
his way of giving thanks,
the Yorkshire Dales his place of worship.
The ordinariness of standing water
puddled, reflecting sweat and struggle.
Freshly turned, the earth displayed
a texture like the furrows in his face.
A summer gone, and gone were lust,
impatience from a young boy's mind.
I brought him food and water,
and urged him to seek shelter and relief
as I acknowledged his composure,
his steadfastness, his strength.
Sedge grass, unwanted there,
it terrorized my uncle's garden,
blemishing the neatly ordered rows
of cauliflower and cabbage,
tomatoes, beans and beets.
He would till from dawn to dusk,
his angled back at odds with the
concision of his spade;
his way of giving thanks,
the Yorkshire Dales his place of worship.
The ordinariness of standing water
puddled, reflecting sweat and struggle.
Freshly turned, the earth displayed
a texture like the furrows in his face.
A summer gone, and gone were lust,
impatience from a young boy's mind.
I brought him food and water,
and urged him to seek shelter and relief
as I acknowledged his composure,
his steadfastness, his strength.
It was not the ordinariness.
The pain of rejection. One
night my lips touched
the lips of moon, to soak the
grief. Do not want to cross-
the threshold of guilts, like
burnished armor
taking the law into my own hands.
Waiting for a spacewalk
of the gods to find the culprit,
who escaped before your
own eyes through the gauze
of silver dust. To quit the ground
or not was the cardinal point.
You remained attached to the
faded poster of childhood. It was
a generational tragedy.
Satish Verma
Sedge grass, unwanted there,
it terrorized my uncle's garden,
blemishing the neatly ordered rows
of cauliflower and cabbage,
tomatoes, beans and beets.
He would till from dawn to dusk,
his angled back at odds with the
concision of his spade;
his way of giving thanks,
the Yorkshire Dales his place of worship.
The ordinariness of standing water
puddled, reflecting sweat and struggle.
Freshly turned, the earth displayed
a texture like the furrows in his face.
A summer gone, and gone were lust,
impatience from a young boy's mind.
I brought him food and water,
and urged him to seek shelter and relief;
my way of giving thanks for his composure,
his steadfastness, his strength.
They sit together
Watching the box,
Sharing the view
Side by side.
Not talking,
Yet comfortable
Engrossed in scenes
Before them.
Wrapped up
In their moment
Of togetherness.
Eyes centred
Lost in the illusion
Played out before them.
Each one aware
Of the other's existence,
But feeling no desire,
No distraction.
Yet so closely woven
Nothing could possibly
Come between them.
did the Greek philosopher Socrates
ever have thoughts of his own mediocrity,
did Buddha in meditation contemplate
belly-button lint in his belly button sedate?
maybe some Confucian spiritual medium
pondered dust in minute trivial tedium.
did Newton while conjuring Newtonian physics
diverge integrals to converge sum to basics?
who might think the relativity Einstein thunk
of rusted tin-cans, rocks and other space junk
the universal ideas of Hubble and Neils Bohr
might spring from ordinariness, not much more
did Jesus when building blocks of religion
view a mud stain on his robe with derision?
did Mohammed when thinking deep thoughts
find his mind became distracted, distraught?
did Edison surmise that he wasn't too bright
at candled table where he invented the light?
did Voltaire care what Michelangelo did know?
do mediocre minds reap what deep minds sow?
do great minds when thinking of great things
see the law-of-averages that mediocrity brings?
did Spinosa know that mundane goes a long way
to get most'a us through an ordinary day
my supposition is, yes, even great minds digress
intrinsically, mediocrity, is part of all humanity
© Goode Guy 2011-09-22
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