Overlaid Poems | Examples

The Monologue of Saul

The Monologue of Saul

(A lone voice whispers)

Have you ever wondered if your soul is just mirrored reflections

Fragmented shards of an augmented reality

A divine kaleidoscope of your own perceived ideas 

Of what to do to get to your version of heaven, and how to avoid hell?

Overlaid onto a real-world environment

Are you too logical to ever really understand, but just bravely parading around like another human being 

Locked into a social engineer's dream

Trying to live within, and under its dark magical, mesmerising spell

Hypnotized by whatever is subliminally repeated, on your handheld screens 

Slowly waiting unconsciously, before it's too late for spiritual understanding 

To return to just you 

To truly see there's more to life than chasing paper dreams

Before you catch the last bus, to take you home to atone 

In The Great In-Between 
Where you'll be asked

Did you live a life clean life or did something happen, that was unforeseen 

That caused you to live temporarily, unclean

(C) Copyright John Duffy

ICONOGRAPHY

The
     sublime
overlaid
   in elements
of
  tangible
     libidinous
            fascination
intensifying
the
    self-contained
&sufficient

expressions
of
   passion
displayng needs
in
an abudance
             of
                 motifs

Colors of Love

 
Bursting shades of fire ember sweet desire 
an Orange Jubilee, bathing in the sun   
Wild charmed poppies, blushing  sunsets 
paprika colored dahlias blowing in the wind;
Nostalgic golden lights of evening twilight 
resplendent in vivid splashes of yellow 
Brass dreams tinted with soul's aspire,  
a wedding band of love that's timeless, old.  
Tinctures of diamond hues of sapphire 
indigo skies of teal, a planetary cosmic,  
infinite as the heavens that filled the stars *
Blue corn moments of sweetness,  
the artist's palette shimmers with light 
Starry Starry Night, twirling gazes 
barely grazing, each color begins to bleed  
beneath the morning fields of amber gray
Overlaid in silver the graying tones of life 
muted to perfection, a priceless heirloom. 
Impearled rosary beads, fingers turn    
the sterling breaths of love begin anew.  
Paint not in shades that don't belong to you  
for even God alone could not replace the hue,    
create the perfect shade in you, dear one  
and don't forget to be the best that you can be.

MONTAGISTA heartfield grosz

manipulative
  media
    montage
angular
  distorted
&provocative
stark
overlaid
unusual
   arrangements
of
the incongruous

STENCILISTA bellows warhol

STENCILISTA

multiples
of
  mutual
repulsion
 to
  faciitate
   vivid
     imagery
overlaid
  squeeged
masked
 thru
    mesh
lithographed
into
  art

Motifs a Freed Verse

MOTIFS
overlaid
&tangible
in  conscious
manifestation

a
significant
  vitality
so abundant
in
bizarre
 variety

 silent
gestures
  refined
&appended
seemingly
infinite allusions
 suspended
features
resembling
the
ostentatious
in exaggeration
of
 transformed
similarity

contemporary
 notions
overshadowed
with
flirtatious
  motivations
of
extravagant
  luxury
in
symbolic interpretation

indications
  stretched out
in
ceremony
of festive emblems
 assuminging
a
normative a
emphasis
&imitating
 illuminating
with an
 intensive & coherent
brightness
expressed
by contemplation
of
the
  oddly ambiguous

Imprompto An Open Form

IMPROMPTU

spontaneity
caressing
the
esteemed
overlaid
in
sight
with
noticeble
sounds
to
exhilerate
&
surround
with
finer
details

so
remote
haunting
the
anticiptory
&apprehensive
retreat

The Troubles of Spring

Spring brings an end to outdoor diversion,
Though some don’t mind its seasonal distress,
It could be an annoying occasion,
When the body is overlaid with stress.

There is an upsurge in the earth’s waters,
They overflow and pay guests to the land,
It’s saddled with tempestuous matters,
Like a fellow standing on sinking sand.

It is a happy and glee time for ants,
The uninvited guests throng our gardens,
They are not a huge concern for peasants,
Flooded and battered farms deeply saddens.

Spring resuscitates my aversion ply,
Sometimes it’s hard to push through and comply.



February 22, 2023.
Spring Is Not All Poetry Contest,
Michelle Faulkner.

Significance

SIGNIFICANCE

eruptions
alongside
the representational
for
good measure
   teases
the
eye
sees something
completely different

steers
 towards a
different
 interpretation
with
 no straightforward
reading
thereby
enhancing
the value enhancing
 of patience

operates
within
to
readily associate
beneath
 the  visceral
skin
the
  unsettling
spectre
to the
insightful

 emphasis
 on the difference
is blurred

the boundary between
overlaid&
a mere
starting point


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

While the Band Plays On

While the band plays on
  dancers grow drowsy
    stifling a yawn
    
Half-empty bottles here and there
  couches overlaid with outerwear
     while the band plays on

Drunken arms over backs of chairs lay
  chests rise and fall slowly, feet splayed
     while the band plays on

The dance floor now empty
  last notes float out the door
     the world sober once more

Portrait

Portrait

Through shades of life in subtle hues
Faded eyes invite imbedded memories,
Half hidden behind a worn visage
Where dreams still dance to celebrate a milestone,
Entwined in lost days of once up a time times,
Layered serene moments of rest invoking
A tranquil touch overlaid with the heavenly;
Quiet now the hands on life’s tiller,
Noise of the wounded spirit
Blotted out by wisdom gained in tinted ashen turmoil,
The pilgrim sits, interludes dance in crosshatch
Embraced, abiding in sacred values beckoning
A captured chroma in still life subtle serenity
Blended reveries reveal the pale intimate,
Stories stored in the compressed soul,
As deep lines of passing years soften – fade away –
In color palettes mixed with ochre joy and slate tears
Waiting for the next breath filled with treasures, 
Softened intensities to burst through grey tones -
The soul’s pastel breath captured – released - unchained.

6-14-22
Contest: Pastel
Sponsor: Craig Cornish

An Emerald Pond

Coastline of the peat swamp is obscuring. 
In addition, the shadow of a lone angler.  
Water lilies turn purple as the sun is setting.

Avoid being stung by sedge and strangler.   
I'm up to my knees in murky shallow. 
In addition, the shadow of a lone angler.  

Trout floated through echoes as a sharp arrow. 
A crisp unsettle overlaid by blurring sunshine. 
I'm up to my knees in murky, shallow. 

Midnight sheep are hollering in the whine. 
With the lowing of a cow from a distance. 
A crisp unsettle overlaid by blurring sunshine.

 Being on the verge of calamity is intense. 
The space among us and our world. 
With the lowing of a cow from a distance.  

The delay has harmed our minuscule pride. 
Coastline of the peat swamp is obscuring. 
The space among us and our world. 
Water lilies turn purple as the sun is setting.


Written: October 17, 2021

A Journey Into the Surreal Inbetween

Inbetweeness 
    inwardsness
 in
     facsimile contrasts 

energy
     deployed innovatively

  an equilibrium 
of parallels pursued
     interwoven
 overlaid

 lines with circles 
in reciprocal
        motifs 
counterpoint 

        visualisaed 

slowly

    in 
        mosaical 

harmony.

Tinseled Moments of Love

Watching the festive tree light up the room I gladden 
like a tiding shifting  from the present moment to the past 
Remembering the happy smiles that grew upon our faces 
as the season approached with all its glitter and bustle 

Tinseled moments overlaid as memories turn golden  
by the fitted hugs of mom and dad and all I held so dear
Skies of reddish hue falling gently on the Christmas tree   
landing on a Child Of Love, nestled softly in a manger 

Breathing in the Hope, we sang with peppermint voices 
carefree as the wind that blew upon our Christmases  
As I recall the Christmastides of old I rejoice in the thought 
that the Christ of yesteryear, still still shines in me today. 

Written by: Vienna Bombardieri

The Storm

Tilt back your head and cry havoc.

As blood and bone twine beneath your skin,
overlaid, with a kind of raw madness,
that has you running to the storm.

Tilt back your head and cry havoc.

Twisting, Turning, Tearing, those winds
from out the shrieking void come.
Echoes of the things you lost trailing in their wake.

Tilt back your head and cry havoc.

The gale sweeps down, and you rush to meet it.
The cruel, cold, cut of the rain strikes your face,
and in the blind despair of the would-be dead, you let it.

Tilt back your head and cry havoc.

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