Birthstones and horoscopes over a chi-square
Months with periscopes everywhere
Moon and Sun in shaded segments
Boon and pun in braided alignments
Spells and pleas yowling in the wilderness
Wells or seas swigging in emptiness
Thoughts wandering around
Droughts and dryness seething in a playground
Warmth or heat you nestled from scorching daylight
Cold air or dew drop sighed by moonlight
Wall clock that restricts your borrowed time
Or unseen counter that predicts your stolen dime
Each day that passes by
All day you ask without a bye
Each night that crawls in the dark
All your might you grope behind a scalded bark
Shadows that follow you
Wedge pillows you never had that haunt you
Tales in dreams that smother you
Puzzles in reams that harrow you...
Why bother when there's none to fear?
Fear only God who's able to hear
Your qualms will never leave you
Only until you believe they're never yours that weave you!
My apartment, this morning, had heat
Which, because it was cold, was a treat.
Though I really must say,
For the middle of May,
It’s a threshold we rarely do meet.
Now the weatherman strangely predicts
That by Tuesday, we’ll be in a fix
Since the weather will - Jeez!
Reach to 90 degrees,
Which means Winter gets no more last licks.
If that happens, I’ll need the A.C.,
For the heat and I do not agree.
Mother Nature, I find,
Cannot make up her mind
So we suffer, to varied degree.
OLD DIRTY MUSICAL NOTES
FROM THE GROUND
Listen to a song nobody wants to listen to,
The beautiful notes thrown to the ground,
Torn and spat upon as worthless,
Stricken and rejected as useless.
The stone which the builders rejected has just become the chief cornerstone.
A bruised reed,
Made into a cheap flute,
A diminishing wick swiftly dying.
A symphony that everyone has counted as worthless,
Just like the words of the ancient prophets.
I took the old, dirtied musical notes from the muddy ground,
Made them into a dirge
That predicts the end.
The smoldering wick was trimmed and forced
To give light into a dark world.
Another poem without a prize
The lines don’t rhyme, don’t satisfy
Poems with horizons and blazing clouds
Winners write with floating shrouds
These rhyming predicts take me back
To kinder days on railroad tracks
You see, you see, I can rhyme, too
My words can swirl an awful brew
But me, I’d rather not construe
Rhymes for poems to ballyhoo
At last, all ye, I do respect
Your words in glory, your idiolect
Two thousand and twenty-six,
is the sixty-ninth year I'll have seen,
but the crystal ball predicts
I still won't know what it all means.
While I wonder what it's about,
I'll still be living by the water,
hoping that my health holds out,
wishing for a granddaughter.
I'll continue that eternal quest,
for fulfillment, truth and peace,
beauty, relief and all the rest,
as I will till my days surcease.
While I engage in this pursuit
a laugh, a smile, a sunshine ray,
a musical note, a bite of fruit,
will make my life from day to day.
My left knee bends but will not bear my weight.
It clicks like disapproval down the stairs,
a hinge that’s learned to question and to wait.
At seventeen, I ran until too late—
now cartilage remembers every dare.
My left knee bends but will not bear my weight.
The doctor called it mild, then moderate,
prescribed his pills and physical repair,
a hinge that’s learned to question and to wait.
I miss the thoughtless body, its clean slate,
the kneeling, leaping, dancing unaware.
My left knee bends but will not bear my weight.
Some mornings it predicts the weather’s state,
a creaking oracle that I can’t spare—
a hinge that’s learned to question and to wait.
I’ll walk again, they say, but hesitate
means something now, and trust is what wears bare.
My left knee bends but will not bear my weight,
a hinge that’s learned to question and to wait.
Sickle speckled like deckles of beef
Girl freckled gave my pickle relief
She pecked on my schmeckle
Like Heckle and Jeckle
Then deep beneath erupted a queef
It grew and blew my shoe out to sea
But soon I knew was coming for me
As the gas flew higher
It lit my ass on fire
A Roman Candle I seemed to be
Flame stung the cats, it cut 'em like knives
Wind flung the rats, they ran for their lives
Red turds swelling the eye
Dead birds fell from the sky
The news predicts that no one survives
The soothsayer slowly moved her hand over the crystal ball.
I predict a death, she told the man.
I am sorry, but it might be your death.
This surprised his wife, and horrified his daughter.
They were astounded and shocked by this news.
Which is a bit odd
Since he is 91.
Midwinter - means
transparent ice walls
pressed against shrinking skin.
Dead-eyed horses are revived
only by the steam of their nostrils.
No one predicts a beginning or an end,
'mid' is a frozen idea
in an ice-locked fountain pen,
it will not write even in warm hands.
Killer clowns' shelter behind
their fixed, blood flaked grimaces,
the whites of their eyes
reflect pinpoints
of a dawning apprehension.
Roads decelerate,
creaking through knuckled hands.
Chilled mounds toboggan off rooftops,
dump malformed snowmen
through unmeasured backyard graves.
At the hazy horizon of each grinding day.
midwinter blurs perspective.
This is the middling 'Mid'
a middle where the mind stops flowing
up or down.
Springtime, it's springtime
Winter has taken a leave of absence
Now it's time for flower to make their grand entrance
Leaving us awestruck and inspired
The mild breezes drift in through the shades
Almost knocking over the vase last year in pottery class I made
And the weatherman predicts unseasonably rainy weather
I start working out because soon summer will come and I want to feel light as a feather
A unique black squirrel climbs up a tree full of lime green buds
I put away my worn out, dull sweaters
For a nice outfit of cotton duds
Today the rays of sun stay brighter longer
Don't worry, I tell myself, for no longer do I have to feel somber
At the metropolitan parks nearby
The snow shovelers have to say goodbye
Springtime, it's springtime
We can't wait to welcome you again
But for now I'd like to take a walk
With my new best friend
Seeking and saving the lost have been parts of your story.
Passion, death, and resurrection must pave paths for glory.
How could you be rarer than all if you don't die and rise?
For the crimes of the souls of the world, you must pay the price.
Did your disciples want this? They wished you to be the king.
You knew, yet, blood should overflow from you like a wellspring.
Your ways were unique in the world. They could not understand.
Your mocking at and flogging at could they ever withstand?
The grain that springs, grows, and bears fruits stays within the earth's womb.
The one who saves all should sleep within the womb of the tomb.
Fulfilling the laws and the prophets should be done by death.
By dying on the cross for all, you should spread your life's breath.
The gift and the giver—you're the lamb who took sins away.
Kingdoms and kingships of this world could not stand on your way.
Purpose predicts strength
Love is quiet underneath
Hope, man's masterpiece
Soothsayer SueAnn is a scary woman in town
You can ask anyone; her reputation is solid and sound.
She has an amazing talent for foreknowing
predicts new babies before their mommies are showing
warms women away from men who abuse
predicts storms and tornadoes not seen on the news
SueAnn has a knack for knowing, her power is growing
Her talent is especially keen in the winter when it is snowing.
A complex domain
Of subatomic particles
And the dynamics of
Physics which works
predicts the existence
Of a novel tetraquark
Compositions of beauty
Charm quarks and two-light
antiquarks schematic predi-
tions might one remind the
other The introduction to
Schematic.
Strong forces from the
exploration of centric functions.
The visible; at the core of this
Exploratory parts of exploration
lies the enigmatic fundermental
strong force.
Central to this understanding are the
therory of Quantum chromodynamics
all which governs the interactions of
strong interactions.A handful of funder
-mental particles known as quarks,
engage in intriguing interactions by
exchanging gluons.
Glouons create all the composite submatter
that eventually form all the visible matter of
the universe.
Words where clarity is needed include,( which
Is listed undefined) hadron, mesons, pions, quark
antiquarks,baryons, protons, exotic hadrons, gluons,
Abd glueball.Spin and parity, experimental or discovery.
Production and detection to unlock its full potential.
Bound isoscalar axial vector.Antidiquark and diquark
undefined.
A reluctant dawn
predicts a heel dragging day.
The sun slinks away from the sky
with dawn cast eyes.
Pond ducks swim slow,
as amnesia paddles them
in nowhere circles.
Lead tinted tears,
plop from stiff trees,
or hang as chill,
metallic drops of
melting air.
Some early hours
must drip-dry
all over your eyes
creating a lip-heavy
sag,
until someone
you don't like the look of,
shouts:
"Good morning,"
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.