Pivoting Poems | Examples

Fly and fly free 08-04-23

Up above a lone bird soars high,
a speck of movement in an azure sky
tainted, with the faintest streaks of white.
It spreads its wing majestically,
sunlight reflecting off its feathers,
glancing off its back.
The wind is its sole friend
as it glides over land and sea,
mountains and trenches,
cities and forests.
It goes wherever it wishes,
surveying its dominion below.
The scenes it will see, only it will know.
It flies far beyond the horizon,
pivoting and diving like an arrow
enjoying the cool air rush past its body.
Effortlessly, it glides
through sun, rain and snow,
nonchalant about what follows.
As it journeys without end across the plains,
it knows it is minute in comparison
and that its journey has just begun.
And so as we leave it to disappear from view
on its endless adventure,
we are reminded that we are not so different from it,
and it's about time we spread our wings.

Pivoting toward the light

When things are turning dark,
try pivoting toward the light. 

Nothing grandiose-no great secrets revealed 
Just a simple pivot of the wayward mind
until the shine comes back into view.
Like the bow of an oft battered rose
weaving its way through icy storms...
try and follow the sextant of the soul.

Darkness is necessary to expose the blight
but darkness is also toxic to the virgin light.
pivot away from this molten blackness.
Pivot sharply -gently praying for direction.

This light will never slither away
only devils procure that illusion.
This purist light is an uncharted island 
anchored to the strength of your faith.

I pray to someday make landfall on the cay of light.
An island that the wizened call...heaven.

It Belongs to Me and My Boat

my sea
it belongs to me
and my boat
i float

clarity of sealife
wee bit of strife
this byzantine ocean
crystalline of emotion

sand slips
as hourglass scripts
i love the tug
time’s tender hug

riveting
the boat pivoting
as I change roles
and slip into soles

souls of the long moon
in sway and swoon
what’s underneath
the soulful wreath

victory, how long is life
what portion of me, a wife
a mother, a sister, an other
eventually death will smother

but for now I rock the boat
tip it over and float
I belong to the sea
It belongs to me

Zen and the Art of Hammock

“zen and the art of hammock”


sit
on
it

swing
legs
pivoting

feet
facing
face

place hands
behind head
relieving

pressure
off of
back

relax

Silver Lining

Combing through the carnage
Questions outnumber answers
Derailed if dwell on the details 
Will we forfeit all our advances?

Easy to get singularly focused 
On second guessing decisions 
Better to not ruminate on regrets
Since the past has no revisions 

Power in pivoting to the present 
As a new path has been charted 
Final destination still unknown
But in a better place than we started

Tipping the Scales

Finally finished with forcing the future 
Beginning to balance the scales of life 
Purposefully pivoting to the present

Ruminate, rinse, repeat was my motto
Causing consternation in all situations
Finally finished with forcing the future 

Pondering potential paths pulling me away
Capping my capacity to be in the moment 
Purposefully pivoting to the present

Relieved to no longer wrangle what’s next 
Calmly swapping control for letting go 
Finally finished with forcing the future 

Diving deeper into today is the only way 
Reassuring to realize I’m on the right track 
Purposefully pivoting to the present

The shift has started as the stage is set
Riding the wave of what’s coming my way
Since finally finished with forcing the future 
As purposefully pivoting to the present

Leopards Loose in the Domain

Out of a neon jungle the big cats prowl
  the wind in the willows unrecovered,
for when the cats and wind begin to howl
  I am stoned and the boys truly mothered!
So I rip in and bowl an inswinger 
  and rap ‘em on the pads…”howzat?” I shout,
pivoting to see a pointing finger,
  but the bastard umpire says “Not Out!”.
Behold the shot, the call of “no, yes, no”…
  a sledge and slog on the concrete wickets
and puffs of stupefying herb billow
  the post-match bar in the oak tree pickets.
For a play and a prey the big cats reign
when the Leopards are loose in The Domain.


          Written: November 1992

    Pic above is of Auckland Domain.

*The Leopards are a cricket team.
*Cricket bats are made from willow trees.
*Mothered is slang for extremely drunk.
*Inswinger is a type of bowling delivery.
*If a bowler appeals to an umpire for a
  dismissal and he agrees the batsman is 
  out he points and raises his finger.
*Sledge is a cutting insulting remark.

Flipped Hourglass

*Image of Hourglass by Pixabay.
AUDIO: Tip; Right-click on volume then click on Loop of the drop-down menu for continuous play.

Flipped Hourglass

Count, onward we go, pivoting seized dunes,
Tempestuous pilgrimage outstretched phase,
Tick - tock, flops, 'tis a dog's day afternoon's,

O'er perpetual movements like scarred toons,
Lunar ... solar, yond the masque, nowadays,
Count, onward we go, pivoting seized dunes,

Small sand on big sand, tea time, macaroons,
Some glass menagerie extreme breadthways,
Tick - tock, flops, 'tis a dog's day afternoon's,

Fitting bits of earth, pour drain, honeymoons,
Time swings on, crystals encased pair relays,
Count, onward we go, pivoting seized dunes,

Scheherazade misses a night, whole moon's,
Bear flight you hefty load, back in someways,
Tick - tock, flops, 'tis a dog's day afternoon's,

A wonderment, gadget, like boom-box tunes,
Shifts drift collared in this time capsule gaze,
Count, onward we go, pivoting seized dunes,
Tick - tock, flops, 'tis a dog's day afternoon's.

2022 January 28
*1st Place*
Pick-A-Title, Vol 28
~~Edward Ibeh: Judged 2022 February 13

Boxer

BOXER

The late October day
marked the last of the tragic
encounters framed by the ropes
he preferred to the streets where a 
journeyman boxer needs more than
taped hands for the troubles he sees

There had been no title shot, no top
ten ranking, just fifteen years of blows
to the body, to the head, to the soul - 
volcanic eruptions, fissures and 
earthquakes, myriad tremors in the
plate tectonics of the fist-pummeled
brain 
He needed sixty more seconds of glaring
bright lights and a bored, bloody crowd
in a small-time arena in a town far away

Sensing his moment, he slipped to the
right, flicked two stinging jabs, bobbing
and weaving, then three quick strikes and
a pivot to the left that put him flat on his
feet for a violent combination with a 
killing uppercut that soothed the roar in
his head, reduced the blur in his vision,
sent the menacing shadow to the canvas
for the count then left him out on the
sidewalks working, breathing hard,
dancing and pivoting like a big circus
bear, punching the air on a cold
afternoon before wary passing 
strangers who tried not to notice,
in a town far away!

Sickening

7/9/20
"Sickening"

This is sickening
And quickening
Not at all, what I was envisioning
Nobody listening
Most chickening
Fidgeting
And limiting
Themselves to the point of being crippling
The effects rippling
And tripling
On top of it, we've got social distancing

Still dribbling
I've been chiseling
And scribbling
No matter what has been incoming
Pivoting
And occasionally grimacing

The temperature freezing, cold, mild or sizzling
The weather icy, windy, calm, scorching or drizzling

Clowns continue giggling
Petty people are still belittling
Over every little thing
Not all that riveting
It's becoming uninteresting

Sometimes I sip, sometimes I swig
Sometimes I flip the script
Even though sometimes it's rigged

Before opportunities are shriveling
And dwindling
Got to get it quickly
And differently
Meanwhile all senses are tingling

Haha'D By Twos and Threes,

What are the remnants of today’s despair?
The unbearable sadness wickedly with intent,
The without pivoting to the realness of in it the context.
Seeming not what is envisioned to be the dispatched,
Developments of self – suckling on to be the for all.

What is of the uniqueness in support,
Through twos and threes and anchored in untested,
The appointments pivoting to the promises blanketed,
Stringing all along for the satisfaction and thrill of self-boost,
In riches and in ego from the to be for all.

What is of the realizations from the day’s count,
The rehabilitation of promises designed to lure through attention,
The today in half term that we still be non-committal and undeterred,
The blockbusting through town classed and egoed,
For them twos and threes inked in greed.

What is the word for tomorrow’s count,
Ghosting through all for the non-assertion of terms following,
The rejections of appointments through creeds and cultures.

For this level of leverage and compensation,
In brotherhood to parties different,
Haha’d by two and threes,
For same woes,
Bad leaders.

Poem by Hudhaifah Siyad Mohamed

The Red Carpet

now walking down
what they think
might be called
the cat walk

stopping slightly
pivoting leaning
whispering with
showing off

their latest statement
in religious fashion
what used to be
just one dress

called Sunday's best
designerless with
a woman always
hat headed

or a scarf but now
scoffed on because 
they are liberated 
in mind but

they're eyes 
too blind to see
the book doesn't
agree with what

their modern
beliefs in letting
them cast stones
unfashionably

but sung in a more
modern they hate
song they are
compaired

by the height of
their steeple
as the aisle
to the altar

shifts and alters
uncoordinate 
colors from
regal red

to grass green
but not greener
on the other side
from being eaten 

by
all
the
sheeple

My Friend

My friend
I can see
a bird is going out of sight
heading for the tree tops height

I really wish
he would turn back and not depart
I will share my coat to warm its heart. 

I’ll call him
I may reach him just in time
he hears my call, no more climb

Watching him hovering
Wings pivoting, he’s turning back
Swiftly in flight, I keep him on track

Feet touching down
Landing in my coat pocket part
He felt my warm and caring heart

Safe and secure
Fluttering his yellow soft wings
It’s joy, that’s what he brings

Searching for affection 
There was no home to be
A storm had taken his family.

Desperate and lonely
He didn’t want to live
Frightened with nothing to give

But I knew
He could sing me to sleep
wake up to and keep

Began to talk
He wanted a home but not a cage
Needed freedom at his young age

Prim and proper
Fills the room with a melodious tune
Keeps chanting till the night moon

Awakens at dawn
His jute box stirs my ears
He smiles without fears

Wings arching up
Windows are open letting the sun fill in
Free to fly out and return again

Now and forever
A gift from the winds
friendship now begins

The Holding At Laguna Creek

The narrow ledge
Led down from the ridge
Taking the steep side
Each step piloting
This descent into the heart song
Abiding deep within our longing spirit

Pivoting beams of sun flash
Through the soft flowing blanket of trees
Below to the far woodland floor
It's light cascading to stream
Between the real and imagined
Binding the present truth to Evermore

This searcher of beauty
This pathfinder of eternal love
Comes to rest from this journey
To find one's self deep within
Where the forest grows silent and lush
Where the soul finds peace

Holding to this enchanted secret
Encompassed in this timeless place
Deep within the well
Of something that always was
And has been the gap
Between the connection of our souls
And the ingredients of our map

Panglossian Perspective Pivoting Poze Pretentiously

Pacific, pacifist pampered papa
parading par excellent paragon
parent (parenthetically parochial
particularly partisan) parvenu
passive, passionately paternalistically patient,

paunchy, peaceably pepped, perfectionist,
perceptive, perennially perky, permissively
persevering, persistently personable, perspicuous,
pertinent, phenomenally philanthropic, philharmonic

picturesquely pious, pioneering, piquantly pithy,
playfully pleasant, pleasurably plucky, plummy,
poetically poignant, politely pontificating, popular,
positively potent, powerfully practiced pragmatist,

praiseworthy, prayerfully precious, precise
predominant, preeminently preferable, preparedly
preponderant, presently president, prestigiously
prevailing, priceless, princely, principally pristine,

privately privileged, prized, proactively procreative,
prodigiously productive, proficiently profitable,
progressively prominant, promisingly prompt,
prophetically propitious, prospectively protective,
proudly proven provocative, prudent psyched, puissant,
punctilious, punctually purposeful.

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