Look at the planets on their revolving path,
They have been following from their birth.
Neither they stop nor they opt to rest,
But they use to negotiate the turn at their best.
Countless repetitions and limitless calculations,
But they still manage to keep the same period of revolution.
Stars hangs around to respect the gravitational constraint,
Comets are accelerating to receive their lost glory that has gone latent.
We humans are mere spectators fixed on Earth to witness the event,
Just to respect and satisfy the theory of natural restrictions to infinite extent.
MELANCHOLY GRANDEUR
insight
in
a
surreal
memory
enigmatic
sensations
venerate
in
repetitions
of
juxtaposed
sombre
scenes
loneliness
evoke
an
atmosphere
transformed
ambiance
evolves
unpretentious
nascent
elegance
understated
restrained
celebrated
elevated
in
pictorial
sophisticated
minimalism
Love is a recipe and will always be a recipe.
We are each other’s medicines, each other’s cure, best taken (and given) by mouth.
how
dull~
patterns
become worn
and then commonplace,
tiresome repetitions of self
imposed standards of beauty, exiling the beastly
unkempt dregs of society who only take and refuse homage to perfection
Renewal~
seasons and
morning are the
repetitions which
suggest that hope
should be in the air~
stories writ in what
appears may be favored
over lurking stories
which darkness may claim~
joy may be energizing
all stories as stories~~
'Tis like to be loud weather.' (The Winter's Tale)
conditioning
repetitions in
time's stories
configure a
future story
in the image of the
conditioning
I went to the forest.
I watched the sunset.
I talked about harmony
Everything about nature.
I took endless repetitions,
Of adjective lines and colors.
Think about the cycle of life,
Birth, death and a new life.
I'm looking the shadows of trees.
The floating of clouds in the sky,
Drawn the lines of leaves in my palm.
See butterfly lines like river bends,
See the rhythmic hurling of the waves,
A breath of lovers looking the horizon,
Love is the same law of nature.
It never change in the gravity of time,
I just observe, believe and just exist.
I’ve come to—k(now), the sobering conclusion
that I must be a lunatic; else what
sufficiently explains the smirking smut
clouding my judgment?—what viscous illusion—
outright{(diagnosable[,perhaps)delusion]},—
persuades me to heed your haughty strut?
Each inch of every corner of my gut
is begging—not—accept—refuse—intrusion.
ah!, but I budge, I give in to temptation!
why,why,why must I make the same mistake
instead of just quite well so simply break-
-ing the cycle of you?—o’ that salvation,
in what dark nook lurks it?, which saviour holds
the key that unschackles me from your folds?
Helpless eyes that try hard to convey
a story buried inside...they strongly want to say
"Wait a little you will get a chance"
Time runs out but they don't get a chance
What else can they do...to mend their relationship
with the person standing forth....whom they highly respect
"APOLOGIZE AND MOVE ON" that's the best way out
Hushed once again without being able to raise voice!
The feeling of being misunderstood
is more than that of being hurt
by people who have
the most regard in your heart
"If I speak a word, they might get hurt"
your thoughts revolve around this
statement that runs in your head....
But there is a famous saying
"Repetitions make you remember"
and so are the acts
of being misunderstood,
And your apology going
towards the other person
All this stays for long
inside you somewhere
And fine day, out of nowhere
You might just be someone
they may never estimate....
Outrage and then revenge..Ensure such' and repetitions
Will never end.' A formula humans know.'
Yet with much drive, and vigour, still scatter and sow..!
an excuiste disposition man .
patterns off a renditionactedrepetition&repetitions&
repletion
shufflingsguzzling _delinqunts_&coefficients
grassess _boldpretty yellowred_ blue the spectrum
and even more_______prisms
all off the “ the probabilities ”,man
blackk walls white ones_now how will you (know)))))))))))))))))))
oh me the appointees, appointing _the degrees
dreaming, in
uncutt n undone
/clidosocpicc ,bymy
implict
understanding
finally
bequeathes
produces
copulates
rests
indignant
relates
ends it
the__end
friends
this is it
bit by bit
everthing
eventually
any and all repetitions are intentional
happy mother's day to one and all
thank you
"show and tell of love"
tell me what you see and hear
I need to know
show me what you see and hear
I long to know
your looks tell all
your whispers express all
yet still tell me
never do I tire what we share
this flame burns forevermore
ask me what I see and hear
my love will unveil
there would be no question
you wouldn't ever wonder
my looks tell all
my whispers express all
yet still I tell
with flirting touches of love
we playfully walk hand in hand
I need to know
tell me what you see and hear
I long to know
show me what you see and hear
SkyWatcher
05-12-23
Her pink okra fingers play violoncello,
Rises from her harmonic throat songs so mellow;
Is she a swallow? A skylark? A Nightingale?
Or the Greek goddess Calliope's sweet-sounding tale...?
An amalgamation of Bach and Beethoven,
Splays open, in and through her, like a vast ocean;
Piano, cello, bass guitar, and percussion,
Her heart and hands try all with perfect precision...!
Venomous feelings of infantile memories,
Childhood and adulthood draperies of worries;
Mushroom-like or monsoon creatures-like resentments,
Repetitions of termite-eating sentiments...
Like palms or banyans or olives Beth Hart withstood,
Worries and cares, though, continued as wild Redwood;
Grim hurt, anger, embarrassment, and frustration,
Could all these, yet, crash her creative causation...?
Rocks and boulders and hard hills, and mountains she breaks,
Earthquakes and volcanoes of destructions she shakes;
"Screamin' for My Supper", "LA Song (Out of This Town)",
Midst best melodic arts, Beth has her laurel crown...!!!
08 May 2023
Beth Hart Inspiration Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
Rhymes Checked At: Rhymes Zone
Syllables Checked At: How Many Syllables
A talent that is not used is wasted
As one loses all the skill gradually
As a result of non-deployment
One loses one's skill in due course
Better to often practice without delay
As talents are acquired via hard-work
Only by doing more and more often
A skill is retained bringing benefits
Whatever may the the taken profession
One must strongly pursue one's goal
Then only improvements can be brought
Idle status will invariably bring defeats
Repetitions done with true enthusiasm
Gather great dexterity and a sound mind
Any great man will advice to often do
To become a master in a particular field
Let it be any event in which one must win
In the absence of honest preparations made
Success can't be expected at all by anyone
So, practice alone puts a solid foundation.
If there’s something that will drive me crazy
And if there’s something that makes me insane
It’s just boredom that will put me in shame
Boredom only offers wilted flowers
I’ll just crave, making me a hungry girl
Showing me the dark sky for star to search
Like holding all plain black and white photos
A vegetating state making me blues
I would rather shave and paint my eyebrows
All alone or with friends doing nothing
Or an ending repetitions, refrain
I’ll squirm out from grip of this banal state
But boredom is wild, now hiding from me
So scared of my repellents -my hobbies
Creativity will drive it away
March 5, 2023 9.24am
Howmanysyllables.com
10/10/10/10/10/10/10/10/10/10/10/10/10/10/10
110 words
150 syllables
653 characters
B--Forms and Words
Contest Judged: 4/2/2023 10:57:00 AM
Sponsored by: Sotto Poet
Place 8 (up to 10 single w)
Sub Categories
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