Restructured Poems | Examples

The Natural Probe

The teal peels as it submits to gloaming,
and a round lucidity exposed abroad.
As the alien brilliance shines far away,
the maneuvered view is being cast.

'Tis dormancy that exacts dark period of tenure,
countdown from the zero hour.
Distant silhouettes grow versus fawning growth,
dipped in Luna's balm.

The etching of profiled naturalness acquiesces,
constant figurines masquerading the expanse.
Subtle contours architecturally restructured,
split seconds surrender serene scenes.

The solid realm maintained lifeless postures,
as the teeming formations made idle trims.
Mimicry traces the bestilled in passing,
perfect copies render mockeries silence.

Heights claim their surroundings,
as the tight-lipped verdant statuesque frames.
Depths summon intimate intrigue,
whilst burgeoning burrowed bedrock bound.

Exchanging brightness extremely bold,
lilt ventures its routine as the subject of Sol.
More or less defining shadows...
there's no difference that a day would make.

Moving On

Moving On

Those flitter-bits of memory
Still stab me in the eyes
Gritty bits of broken maybes
Floating where they cannot be denied
Like sponge, I soak them heedlessly
Broken spirit akin to broken skin
I wipe the tears with patience
I soak the spills with downcast eyes
But broken and restructured
I've lost the Angel's reign
My feet feel life so differently
Now that they trample on she who cried
Soft souls squeeze through my footsteps 
Bathed in my ancestral sands
The one where life found meaning 
As the boulders broke the bride
But footsteps are like spider webs
Weaving dreams where pride has died
They falter through the fire
But never give up when it's time to die

Beggars

On  daily  basis producing  their hyperactive  arms 
For their better-offs’ less automatic alms:
On lucky charity, therefore, badly dependent,
With things not looking quite resplendent.
The word ‘Pauper’ fitting their circumstance,
Year after year, not exceeding a certain distance.

In their quest for help, increasingly instinctive
And like lawyers, by dress distinctive:
Theirs an unplanned celebration of shabbiness
With a sickening inclination to hairs of shagginess.

Beggars, though there are, who gorgeous clothes put on,
On purpose trying to win onlookers’ good opinion:
The pass-mark of character who channel their pity
To only The Sophisticated in their society.

Still beggars there are by laziness manufactured
On their physique no injuries nor the restructured
Nor, for that matter, the obvious blindness
Nor observable lameness;
Able-bodied men we shouldn’t have assisted,
Until they have persisted
With aspiring tuneful voices aiming to mesmerize us
Or comic displays such as one loves.

Beggars might remain people of lowly station
Further pitted against reduced expectation.

Mad Mad World

Missing the days
When I was the craziest person I knew 
This mad world 
Has incredibly gotten madder
Radios TVs blaring panic
Humanity gobbling it up like candy
Social distancing 
Because society hadn't already 
Become distant enough 
Do you know your neighbor's name
Do you dare knock on their door
No
Cell phone at the ready
Why is no one touting "fake news" now
So much easier to believe 
Words that raise the blood pressure 
Society is being restructured 
In front of our blind eyes
When the smoke clears 
And the ash settles 
What will remain
Will the best or worst 
Be revealed 
Will you slow down 
Realize you've been ignoring 
What's most important 
Or will the social unrest
Already so out of control 
Use this fuel to engulf the nation 
The future is in our hands

04/02/2020
Coronavirus COVID-19 Cash Prize Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Team Poetry Soup

Predictable

?   

Poetry in such a way
Restructured from afar
Every thought that's on display
Don’t show them who you are
Instead of just the usual write
Concoct a brand new scheme
Touch the dark instead of light
Abort the standard theme
Become unpredictable
Leave all that stuff behind
Ending this one without love…  (bet that’s not what you thought you’d find) 




December 3rd, 2019
The Predictable poetry contest
Nina Parmenter

Tomorrow's Future

Wandering, lost in the turmoil of today
 I stood and paused, contemplative -
a struggled entourage of thoughts 
 mesmerized envelopings of my dream world
where tomorrows, the future would change
 all for the betterment
 the wise progression of mankind and humanity.

Machines, computerized artificial intelligence
 that restructured the world 
into a brilliant light of intellectual discovery
 of how important life's realities are
the realization that all life matters
 and love and brotherhood exist for all
 and those goals are achievable with understanding.

Sadly, as I stepped forward
 looking back over time regretting errors made
I drew in the massive picture of destruction behind me
 each laying in the crosshairs of passing time
to be forgotten once more
 and all the lesson learned return
 to be realized over again in tomorrow's future.

Blessed Are

Blessed are transgenerative memories
of spatial neighborhoods
and temporal past through future generations,

Ours is the compassionate co-empathy
sustaining Earth's both natural and spiritual
outside and inside
inhaled and exhaled
implicating and exclamating
listening and praising
Zero ZenSoul

Of integral transubstantiating resilient health,
timeless expansive wealth,
becoming whole 
holonic
bicamerally restructured 
thought with feelings
again.

Independent Brothel

INDEPENDENT BROTHEL 

A nation like ours
Like a place restructured into a Brothel 
By responsible married men
Where voters are used like prostitutes
Some even do on credit 
Independently

Fancy leaders like ours
They are the most responsible married men
The corruption customers
They engage prostitutes
And even impregnate them
 Independently

Pretentious democracy like ours
Is equivalent to a Whore 
Concurring to the will of money
Independently fluctuating from one man to the other 
The anywhere-belle-face government

We the Zombie followers
We fight for married men
We are free-of-charge 
We are the prostitutes that they promise to marry 
We prefer marriage of manifesto to our Rights
We parade the green and white
We clap while they eat the cake
We are obviously In Dependence 

©Kporho Vwede Daniel
(IG: General Ali official)
+2347067333949

All rights reserved.

New Heartbeats

To die without rhythm
  and bleed without rhyme

Each wish left unspoken
  in coupling divine

New heartbeats unwritten
  that call from within

Their cadence restructured
  all verse—now a hymn

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2016 )

A New Beginning

Grey mosaic skies, clouds burst into tears that flow, 
Sounds of blistering wind relentless continues to blow,
Seeking shelters, ignoring hierarchical food chain,
A glimmer of hope as a beam of sunlight shows in vain,
Piercing through darkness in radiated rays of brilliance,
Sounds of going forth to replenish lost souls for assurance,
Symbols of blooms revealing continued intent to survive,
Winged life flock in thousands, ready for spring to arrive,
Out of hiding restructured beasts now ready and alive,
Replenished water supplies, vegetation underfoot, we strive,
A new beginning as life endures forgetting the past.

My Life Is a Success

MY LIFE IS A SUCCESS 

My life is a success;
Carved out of many troubles
Iike gold, I was cooked
Fire went through me like crude. 

My life is a success;
A transition from many struggles
Through the shadows of death, 
I found the light of my new birth. 

My life is a success;
Carved out of toxic memories, 
Am a sweeter taste from a bitter waters
Out of heat and thorns of many decades

My life is a success;
Punctured and restructured,
Immune from all leakages. 
I am a letter; well punctuated
A special speech for all to speak.

All Faith Now Within

My reservation made
My ticket punched
My racket strung
My hole card trumps
My lead dog ready
My rudder long
My hope restructured
My spirit strong
My story ending
My fable begins
My memories endowed
All faith now within

(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2016)

Power Within

Exponentially excited amalgamation

The ownership of my strength

Geometrically wielding my radius boundary

Compounding circles sharing equivalently

In the thirsting power of my vortex

Bending sheer influence of my vertical sovereign wind

Unleashing aftermath of my restructured points chosen

A Builder's Dream

A crow of excitement,
"This saw is divine!"
He examines each blade
one tine at a time.

Serrated and sharp,
The metal, it glistens.
"Look at this motor!
Babe, are ya listenin'?"

Then from his deep slumber,
The builder awakes.
Opening confused eyes,
His hands start to shake.

Consciousness beckons-
It was only a dream-
He goes back to sleep
To start sawing the beams. 



This is an older write that I restructured to play with alternating syllabic counts of 5656 and 6565.  The old brain needed a challenge today.

Needle On the Broken Record of Life

same with a test today
similar with a challenge tomorrow
identical my reaction then
exactly my response now
change is a bell broken down, restructured, and repainted
when the jingle is heard, the reality of life kicks in like a sudden episode of nausea
the realization then comes that everyday is repeat season
might as well listen to the radio and whisper to myself cliches of insanity

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