Short Intoned Poems

I have a dream
  intoned Reverend King
So many folks then
  smiled and beamed

But things are no more
  what they once seemed
a color-blind society's
  no longer esteemed...

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Music
when explained
the notes retract

Visceral
ideation
falling flat

Resonance
systemic
joy intoned  

Romancing
the silence
— calling you home


(Dreamsleep: September, 2024)
...

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The Piper of destiny
  calls from the unknown

Without lyre or harp, 
  his truth so intoned  

All sirens left deafened,
  tumbling over themselves

As a choir of Angels
  —from his flute are bespelled

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2019)...

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An ad for fancy sports shoes
tells the world to 
"Just do it! "

Dash off lines of rhyme or
free verse, haiku or 
limerick

Whatever suits your mood
of the moment will do 
the trick

Bill Shakespeare of yore
nasally intoned, 
"As you like it."...

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Real poets don’t make lasting friends
they shun fraternity
Their truth like gritty sandpaper
abrasive when intoned   
The reader may be gratified 
with what the words uncover
More likely though the pain involved
— will cut them to the bone

(Dreamsleep: February, 2024) 
...

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In the wet clash of tongues, 
Bent to each others desire,
Open mouth in the simple fun,
We breathe our power on life. 

Intoxicated lip crushes,
Desirous of each other,
In sequestered frolic grips;
Forms vocals in intoned cries:

Wish for the kinkiest function;
And surveys high performance?...

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Falling in love
      Is a decent manifestation
            Of emotional full growth;

Falling out of love
      Is an indelicate indication
            Of emotional immaturity.



Author's note
Inspired by the immortal words as intoned by
Sir William Shakespeare 
that needs to be reckoned with....

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lust intoned
with death.
and people, friends,
speak of ends
of where we go..
They know, within an atrophy
they goad.

they claim then with arrogance that all is lust,
and that lovers lie to truth.
But i would find,
with my eyes,
that they still must goad...
And it means that they soon shall find their seams
unwind....

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Moral on the mural,
scripted in deep,
stoned like creep,
intoned the visitors,
they could see words,
in a language strange,
their guide gesticulated,
something and anything,
they took it for the real thing,
had they seen the moral on mural,
or just another stone,
that had with generations,
gone in a bad fall....

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Symbols of structured prose,
an instant insight when read
aloud.The prose of poetry purposed,
to experience,once and forever
then filed in the mind’s eye&ear.
When triggered,to be recalled
and repeated over again& again.
A living voice intoned and inflected
echoing as an everlasting ripple
acroos momentary eternity,indelibly
sketched,a recorded act,  of life...

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Echoes in the laughter
Reverberating strange
Devious enrapture
Entangled souls are drained
All eulogies are intoned 
Telling how they were so brave
To speak of webbed seduction 
That dragged them to their graves
They're left but skin-n-bone now
Skin-n-bone there all remains
And on the winds they're screaming
In hollow cheeked dismay
Beguild souls are damned
To the keep of a lost domain
A temptress or the devil 
Who spins this web again....

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Jamais vu, do I live here
I'm unfamiliar, is that my door
I know so much about this place
Or does it know me, is that my face
The words I speak I ponder on
Has the meaning upped and gone
Have I intoned and made it strange
Thought too deeply, out of range
Spiral off, pirouette
Bring me back, not ready yet
Just momentary lapse in thinking
No need to worry or blame the drinking
It's just the opposite of deja vu
Disorientation, go slow, mind blew...

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Echoes in the laughter
Reverberating strange,
Devious enrapture 
Entangled souls are drained,
All eulogies are intoned 
Telling how they were so brave,
To speak of webbed seduction
That dragged them to their graves,
They're left but skin 'n' bone now
Skin 'n' bone there all remains,
And on the wind they're screaming 
In hollow cheeked dismay,
Beguiled souls are damned
To the keep of a lost domain,
A temptress or the devil
Who spins this web again....

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A LIVING VOICE
Symbols of structured prose,
an instant insight when read
aloud.The prose of poetry purposed,
to experience,once and forever
then filed in the mind’s eye&ear.
When triggered,to be recalled
and repeated over again& again.
A living voice intoned and inflected
echoing as an everlasting ripple
acroos momentary eternity,indelibly
sketched,a recorded act,  of life.

Listen to me recite this structured prose on youtube under my pen name ichthyschiro...

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Ignoble though our dawn of days,
yet intoned is worthy praise
of legion minds whose reasoned grasp
has ever roared at starry heaven’s
distant vault—Omniscience’
mighty pillars to confound.

Yet I hesitate and wonder,
if we alone proud mantle don
to reason and opine,
or whether listens now
on curved space’
strange and distant shore
an ancient, brooding mind
who jots it all on pages
of a tiny book it is
writing about us.

Seventh place in the Let's Get Technical Contest...

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