Pinpointed Poems | Examples

Pain is

Pain has a universal resemblance to a cutglass
Lifeless with twists and turns.
Slowly apprehending one like quicksand.

Outwardly  screaming for help, no one
in sight to be pinpointed at least it
seemed that pain is eventful with full 
of disappointment,  heartbreak,  testiness
often temporary.  Pain is the pain of
conscious  of false hopes, pain is
like a pressure cooker, Pain is now
turned inside out with Faith.

Ludwig Knew, Clerihew

Free market economist, Ludwig Von Mises
Ably pinpointed economic diseases.
Yet, when we’re told the feds fixed the great depression,
Ludwig knew it was caused by fed intervention.

Strange Things Found In the Lost Tomb of Zarathustra

It was never exactly pinpointed
for only the African Crowned Eagles knew of the twisting paths
to its misplaced place.

In that crystalline chamber, upon that gold dusted floor
were found much thumbed volumes of all Nietzsche’s
works,
a penguin in a glass bell,
a twig cut from the tree of Life one million years from now'
A windblown leaf but only the wind that blew it.
a silver cuspidor, a ancient helmet made of Pittsburgh steel,
a Neolithic moonshine still,
a copy of the illustrated Karma Sutra,
several debunked words of wisdom from Aristotle,
an Olmec Letter Opener.
and a stuffed tufted rat.

The find has been carefully transported to the Smithsonian
where neuroscientists are trying
to solder together all these missing links.

The NYT has declared these odd finds
to be ‘Russian disinformation,’
but ‘Bokonon’ the mythical poet-sage of the Republic
of Never-Never Land
has blessed each artifact and declared them
to be far too strange not to be absolutely true.

Far Away They Die In Our Sleep

Another dawn has won over a defeated night.
The wounded and dead, as always
are hidden between time zones,
a brutality too far away, and not enough
to tremble grills in backyards or rock local beer barns.

From the East perhaps a bird or two will arrive
bearing seeds of survival,
but for now the pinpointed and targeted
tread no trace, thread no words.

The collateral and forever damaged dream for us,
the smashed-down wave hopeless arms
like far semaphore signals
they come to us now as muted morning guests;

fortunately, we have many soft and spare pillows
and they cannot disturb our rest.

My Witness

Got into that a mirage
Unmapped in all its grounds
Where no lifeline could exist
Cautious distrust kicking in
An area where sorrows spread
That the beings had spoonfed
A stipulation of a well-crafted hat
Intruding two thirds of real hope
In that frame of mind pinpointed.

Walked through such a path
Paved long enough to the unseen end
Beautiful flowers emerging from sides
Just strongly pouring attractive odours
The fragrances to be sold at no price
That anyone would like to pass through
An amusement of natural adorable sprays
Leaving some marks to get questioned
By the look it expresses over the context.

Seek beyond the best feasible option
Uncharted below infinite water flows
To what the superiors would believe
Self opinions triggering mass faith
A sense to be named as uncommon
That no light ray felt to beam
A true meaning of being fake
Crashing all the Joules by others
To this little significant dot.

Exposed Intelligence

Exposed Intelligence

Love where her head is at
Rolls off the tongue
and drips with intelligence
Whereby, I follow
  where she's comin from.

Not talking sexual.
Definitely, innuendo
I wanna ride the messaging
of her mind and map
the very essence of her being.

Something like a soul whisperer
I wanna call her name
  in soft, drawn out whimpers
Life resembles pinpointed 
dreams and correlated destinations

Some say we're full of performance
but it's just me imagining
mingling with her poetry
 and hanging onto every word
A little finger tracing, if you will

From her lips to my ears
I could fall in love 
exposing her intelligence
but I'd rather 
play with it instead

This hits deep. I think
I found a new way
to play Q and A 
uncovering 
nakedness

Intelligence exposed

Black Civil War: Book 1-3

I saw a thousand guns
Numbered like the sand of the seashore
Bowing down slowly
To the half of a yellow sun
Staring at them with gestures
That spoke silent words of praise
In an unbelievable future of hope!

(Book 2)
The sunrise spoke to the confederation,
The sunset seemed to sleep in peace
Within the heart of a few future Jews
Who told tales and fables of segmented past
With presentable memories of shredded battlegrounds
To new semen’s slowly turning into men
And begged of them to transfer
This vehicle of priceless messages
To their future kind!

(Book 3)
Tankers of war labeled yellow and black
Painted pictures of a fate fair and dark,
Carried labels of a suspected authoritarianism;
Painted portraits of an undeniable militarianism!
Tankers of war labeled yellow and black
Painted pictures of a race in peace or part,
Carried labels of a suspected treason
Believed to be pinpointed by the south-south region!

The Comic On a Grand Scale

motifs benday  
 
 pinpointed 
 
         raster dots 


enlarged cliches
 
       cartooned nuanced

 in new dimensions 

the familiar

      fantasized
    
            stylised 

reorientations
        in overlapped
               matrix fields 
of the moment

of thoughts 

         quickened 

               by inspiration.

Surgical Strike

The stars wink out over suburbia
another dawn has won over
a distant night.
The defeated and dead as always,
hidden between time zones,
a brief brutality too far away,
and not enough to smear backyards
and beer barns.

Upon my morning walk
I lift up my heart in song.
A soft breeze
drowns out the drone
of smart death,
the quieted blood of the gone,
leaving only
surgically dismembered voices
lilting sweetly
in this summer air,

If I look to the East
maybe a bird or two will arrive
bearing seeds of survival,
for now the pinpointed and targeted
tread no trace
thread no words.

After more nightly raids,
after the nocturnal flames,
the collateral and damaged
come to dream with us,
they come as the misplaced
and as our muted morning guests –

fortunately, we have
many soft and spare pillows.

Snapshot

a blur of life
frozen in eternity
one moment caught in time
its speed come to a halt
pinpointed clipped
taken out of context
a memory to never age
captured in photo
a tapestry on celluloid
a keepsake
tactile 
a token
to treasure
to live on
in the
here ever after



Published in my 24-page photo/anthology book ~THE MIND'S CANVAS~ 2023

AP: 1st place 2021

Posted on June 7, 2020

A Fire Is Burning Within Ugly

Those of us not blind 
can see exactly who you are 
underneath the skin a vile human 
one that supports murder and child abuse
defending it with name calling 
anyone with half a wit knows who you are
It does not matter where your from 
you agree with murdering children of all creeds 
Regardless of where they are from 
which makes you the biggest racist next to Hitler
The truth hurts deeply when pinpointed  
because your not a real man taking offence at this 
then wishing to destroy babies what role do you play
A father would protect his kin regardless of gender or other 
sadly your arrogance has little value to be honest 
Loveless you are to the backbone one troll 
calling you a hypocrite of the worst kind 
with false doctrine to back your version of events

Occupation Destination

OCCUPATION DESTINATION  

Hey, remember the flamboyant Mr and Mrs Black,
Heard they are back,
And in actual fact,
Mr. lost his job, gave his boss too much flak!

Employees had gone missing, it was reputed
That something strange,
Was actually in range,
The rumours could not be pinpointed or disputed!

The ‘Blacks’ had decided that their old occupation,
Was far more fun,
Son of a gun,
All this time they were in preparation!

They had looked up ancestors and kin,
Many were in Hungary India,
Greece, Bohemia and Serbia,
Their new, rather old lifestyle, was about to begin.

India was a bit far, rather the Slavic places,
Excitement was mounting,
And they began counting,
They remembered the 18th century faces!

And so, need to go into the evil and gory,
These vampires had a ball,
They had such gall,
Their pantry always full, and they, in their glory!

Structures

structures of our existence
rankle like fire spewed by a volcano
figurative patterns form by natures way
elements of destruction thought beautiful
mesmerize in formed flight...pathways labeled 
“fixed” doesn’t matter where...up close 
and personal through barriers of sight
textual wisdom reminders washed away by the
flow of existence slowly and surely making its way
stars pinpointed reflect glowing embers
sonic blasts never heard by anyone except trees
one tree falling, one hand clapping never more to
be heard across eternities of the ages.

Pen Moves

Seems like a decade 
When it has only been
three years.
The old me fades
and falsifies
The toddler me cries
 still learning to accept
words I trip over.
Everyday I'm amazed
how small things
become large 
Did space expand from
a single pinpointed origin?
Was there light
 then came night? 
Miss the days I could
articulate my speculations,
recite elation and didn't
stumble from jubilation
What if God's pen was just
the introduction of one black dot
on white space
and He's still in hesitation
 envisioning
a word He is thinking
And that spot 
 became space
and the sporadic stars 
trap inside that expanding black ink
are trace elements revealing
 how long God has been
thinking before speaking?
And the contact of ink
on paper became
the existence of living.
Tomorrow I turn three
Veterans day has become
the perfect opportunity
to reflect
 knowing
free stuff doesn't mean much
if you cannot speak
the morning after.
Much of my life has been
focused on tomorrow's affairs
so I had to
 capitalized on today
Show you 
the tip of my thinking 
because my tongue
be tripping
But still able to birth
 a word or two

Tongue Twister Time

Pretty Polly picked a pen and pinpointed Peter Pan
Who pinpointed Peter Pan ? - Pretty polly!
Peter pan picked a pen and pinpointed Pretty Polly
Who pinpointed Pretty Polly ?- Peter pan!
Pretty Polly and Peter Pan picked a pink pinpointed pen
The pink pinpointed pen pinned and penned
  Pretty Polly and pinpointed Peter Pan.
Who pinned,penned and pinpointed Peter Pan and Pretty Polly
The pink pinpointed pen.



Tongue Twister Line : The Pink Pinpointed Pen Pinned And Penned

A tongue twister poem for Mystic Rose's Contest. : ) : )

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