Have ye been touched not yet by magnetism,
ushering deep wisdom, unknown to mind,
rapture of bliss pervading body prism,
causing us to become with love aligned,
with fears and desires to the bin consigned?
Befriending silence, piercing the vast void,
the demons of darkness are then destroyed,
whereupon doing nothing we so see,
our true Self as light, shaped as a spheroid,
revealing to us, we were always free.
the kids are going nuts
one almost keeled over
one inquires about the whereabouts
of the large-caliber pipe pistol
one gives the spheroid
a handshake and hug
the arm like an tartarean
eclipse with a surreptitious
star-nosed mourning
mole on the end of it
one gives the projectile
a high five, invented by a
basketball player with
four fingers
but what about him?
who is he under the
cycloidal velvet? how did
he get this gig?
did he expect models
draped over vintage tanks?
rubenesque ladies straddling
the missiles?
can he take the costume home?
who is responsible for it's wash?
does he put a cancer stick
in his touch hole in the car park?
does his lady-indoors
own a rammer?
he wishes the day would end
go home for a grapeshot
that he could be elevated
at forty-five degrees
and sent airborne towards
the automatic doors
I am tactically vast;
Shining as sheets of glass;
I'm luminous plasmic spheroid;
So held together by the atmosphere;
Gravity spaces and places me spread;
I'm in brilliants colors orange, yellows, blues, greens, whites, reds;
Elements absorb I'm living spectra;
I'm Grandeur darken vast mast extra;
Heated a hotted mass of slender hue;
Temperate temperature blue
I am a star, my name. Blue Kelvin
7/7/20
You are a star Poetry Contest Contest.
Sponsored by: Nina Parmenter
Personification poetry form only.
All the
(objects consisting of a luminous spheroid of plasma held together by its own gravity)
in the
(everything that lies above the surface of the Earth, including the atmosphere and outer space)
are
(shedding tears in response to an emotional state, pain or a physical irritation of the eye)
for her
(long, deep audible breath expressing sadness, relief, tiredness, or similar).
Oh! the blaze of light and color
playing power of vibrant luster.
with a rainbow hidden in its soul
she's a princess, a spectral cluster.
Rain seeping voids of crevasses
cracks of porous silica rocks,
amorphous tiny spheroid balls
an effulgence perfect Goldilocks
A gem that forms in million years,
sensuous palette of random pattern
like a Christmas tree she glistens,
a chrysanthemum flamed lantern.
The Opal stone, oh !.. too sensuous
a salsa dance of sequins and beads.
purple in passion and golden in love
she brings the peace, the world needs.
Dated 15th May 2019
Sponsor -Line Gauthier
Contest Name:
TRIBUTE TO A PRECIOUS OR SEMI-PRECIOUS GEM
Placed 3rd in the contest list
Also featured 3rd in best new poem list.
The scientists flung the Rosetta
like spinning a ball in rouletta.
The nerds were annoyed
when their progeny buoyed.
All was saved with a back turbojeta
Settling down on an icy ast'roid,
which was neither oblong nor spheroid,
they said "Philae be grounded",
instead she rebounded
and almost was lost in the void.
With war games and money misdealt
the project was left needing gelt.
And cells lacking power
sent nerds to the shower
while watching the meteor melt.
Spheroid Rainbows.
Delicate,"Do not Touch"
Floating through emissions,
Of dirt and car exhaust.
A bubble family on an outing.
Performing acrobatics,
In the summer air.
Nobody ever sees a drop kick today.
The days of its popularity have gone away.
Look in the rule book; it’s still a legal play.
This is a move teams tend to avoid
since the ball took the shape of its familiar spheroid.
It is rare to get a true bounce when the ball touches the ground.
That is why attempts are practically never found.
However, a New England Patriots quarterback had no fears.
He performed the first drop kick in over sixty years.
The ball successfully went through the uprights for a score.
Since 2005, we have not been able to see anymore.
Information taken from the website of the Pro Football Hall of Fame
.
Spinning
as if out of control
yet
not
Around
and around and around
and around
the flower spun
pluming
like the peacock
yet still
that innocent flower
spun
and with all beauty
slid
and on the spheroid of ice
with a touching soft pause
the flower
bow'd
The sound of Leather on hardwood
Classics, jerseys and sneakers on floor.
These instruments accompany the
Chorus of fans and haters
In unison they roar.
Deftly we move, we manouver
You can call it a dance
With a wish
A common goal,
A spheroid of gold,
This bomb explodes with a swish!
This dance we've created
Mastered, debated
We're pumped
We're inflated with pride
You've seen how we roll
Got that gift of control
And as Ballaz we stroll
This stride.
We divide and we conquer
We detect the undetected
The master strategy
We expect the unexpected
Deviously we play
No one tells us how we do
I'll have ya bodies movin'
By the time that I'm through
You may think this poem is tight
May think this poem is lame
But one thing you haven't listened to
Is the song of the GAME.