Bizarre and illogical
the successions of images
unthinking in the mind
the mixture of visual
experiences influenced by
the happening's of the
wakened world
ideas, emotions and sensations
Frustrations from the debate of
two people who believed that building
a bridge over the Cook Strait was
a good idea.
His restless mind found him trouble
he dreamed of him being on
a horse
along side a woman on
her horse
with ice-cream in there back pockets
with horses following them
It's beleived he awaken from
the dream inspired to
to build an under ground amphitheater
there he'd televise shows
across the world
I watched King Charles’ coronation this morning.
I’m not British and some things confused me.
For instance, they kept saying “The new king.”
New? The guy’s a boomer - at least - right?
Apparently, he is, at once, the oldest king
ever and the newest king yet.
Can we talk about the old lady with the crown?
The wrinkled one on the right of him, in white,
the crypt keeper, with genuine platinum hair.
At first, I thought that it was Charles’ mother.
But apparently, the old Queen died.
Has anyone looked into that?
Anyone who’s read Shakespeare knows
how brutal royals can be and successions,
over time, have earned a sketchy reputation.
Anyway, I wish him well. I wouldn’t want to live a life
where everyone around me moves up a notch
if something sudden and nasty happened to me.
.
.
Wobster’s Dictionary, word of the day: Coronation: “when you put a target on someone’s back”
*Is it me, or is his family so high school - why?
slang: ‘why’ = because I said so
When the flood came,
It was beyond what I envisaged,
It was deeply overwhelming,
My feet could barely find a place,
I've seen my father wade through floods,
Floods of varying depths,
Some almost swallowed him,
Some flow was turbulent,
He could hardly stand,
Everything he had was almost swept away,
He said,
Floods are an integral part of life,
He said,
Without flood life's story is incomplete,
For it spices life's experiences,
I'd rather wade through a
laminar flow than a turbulent,
I’d rather raise a bulwark against a turbulent flow,
Make it flow in slow successions,
For the floods on the inside
in no way can be compared
to those on the outside,
They’re extreme disasters,
Only the unseen power is potent a bulwark.
February 08, 2022
Pick-A-Title, Vol 28 Poetry Contest –
Along comes a flood
Edward Ibeh
Spanish sub-verse song scheme
Seven-eleven strings
Stanza shared successions
Several stunning strips
Streak soliloquy strands
Subsequently stressed sounds
Sung smoothly; serenely
20 January 2022
Write About a Form Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joseph May
Syllables: PS Syllable Counter
The Central Board of Secondary Education
Has invited many an online application
From its Teachers and Principals
To give out the 2022 Awards
On its official website
What a news fully bright..!
Dear Interested and eligible
Teachers and principal
Do send in thy applications
Online in quick successions
On or before July 10, 2022
The annual entry for the best few
CBSE Teachers and Principals Awards
(Unique acknowledgement and rewards)
Are conferred every year on
Commemorating the Great Radhakrishnan
September 5 being the Teachers’ day
Come on let's make a hay
The winners will get a merit certificate
And a cash prize of Rs 50,000/ straight..!
(www.cbse.nic.in)
Being my honeycup and dish
A delicacy from an inn lavish
Thou are such a fine female
Of thy supreme ‘mole’ male
Serving so sweet secretions
In our suite in successions
During our oral rendezvous
We involve in mutual woos
Ever appetizing is the flavor
Of thy honey with no color
Ever yearning to dive deep
Into the clutch only to sip
Between thy thighs I find
A solace when we entwine
An awesome hutch solid
Where we compete rapid..!!
A Billion Light-Years in the Past
David J Walker
Star Light
Star bright
I look to you for the solution
Tonight
Are we the offspring of
Single-cell
Are viruses invading us
In Sedulous successions
Does evolution drive intelligence
Or does intelligence drive evolution
Star Light
I wonder how far away you are tonight
with the solution
A billion light-years in the past?
Henry, you tried and tried and tried —
turkey legs and beer kegs of great import*
Did they get between you and the ladies,
many of those waiting...
You got your way,
but your seeds unharvested
after 1603.
How fair these children of a greedy king —
Edward, Mary and Elizabeth.
Edward VI, king at nine,
lives to be fifteen —
a child the whole time.
Lady Jane Grey, not one of Henry’s kids
would be royally screwed
after nine days,
Mary grabbed the crown, as was her due.
Queen Mary I, like her dad, caused a beheading,
Grey would wish she hadn’t stepped on her toes.
Sobriquet, quite sobering, of Bloody Mary,
vilified in Foxe’s Actes and Monuments.
Elizabeth I, the Virgin Queen, after her sister dies
in 1558. Video et taceo — she sees but says nothing.
Perhaps better to keep your trap shut in the family vault
or die trying to try and try and try to one’s detriment.
11/2/2020
*concern
What is life?
but a clutching for dear life
to a cotton ball dipped in sweet nectar
a wounded butterfly grasps,
finally able to drink his measure
sugar rushing to it's wings, it looks
somehow stronger, prouder
ready to face it's brief existance,
for whatever it may be worth
for what is a butterflys life
if not soaring through a penultimate sky,
admired by all, propagating, migrating
part of a long chain of successions
toward the North, and once again returning
for what purpose, only it's creator knows
perhaps only to lift the spirits of it's beholder.
Does a butterfly have to soar and flutter
to be part of life's penultimate cycle
even if struggling to pull itself to the highest branch,
and gaze upon the world, to which it emerged?
Looking at some thirty-year-old slides.
Was that me, was that you? How many
successions of now, how many tides,
how many sunrises, rainy and sunny
days must be reversed for me to crawl
back into that disease and ache free body
again. And I must be careful not to fall
into the illusion that the person, lofty
though his intentions may have been,
that started this sonnet is the same person
that is hoping to glean some mean
hope of meaning from original intention.
Unless you live outside of time and connect
you cannot hope to complete what you project.
Breathing like a Fox
Successions like plastic
Future like metal
Since, hence I am back.
I fly like a hawk
An extinct bald eagle.
I live the high life.
For the first time life has no boundaries.
I am no fool
I smell fear
Mine too.
However, it smells good now.
You have deadline
You have plans
Your eyes, your ears, all faculties gage
Journey on
Pause for the Source to whom you pray
Omens will poke, answers will click, ding, hover close
Who else would hold your hand with Master plan?
Back to square one
You've summoned successions of supplications
Isn't one enough fueling your needs? When
Whirl of stardust corporate, and
Past and present reflections says the future is now
Just trod softly, patiently my friend
The start of any work of art begins with thought
Look, listen. Hold words fueling no harm
But warm your heart and mind
Read any good book
Our inner lamp glows brighter
And our burden light
Yes, you have a plan
Another challenging one
Think transparency
Pay keen attention
As you move along life's net
Help is on the way.
*
The infinity of time is
still irrevocably established with
irreversible successions; the
extremities of
which,
in its vast expanse of
continuum, are yet to
be discovered nor
explained by
geniuses
and their mathematical equations.
And man still wishes to
resolve this enigma with
intentions of abating
the cessation
of
the pulsation of the heart,
the respiring of air,
and the
cerebration
of the mind.
But sometimes, blinded by over-enthusiasm,
Man fails to see
that
what cannot in cherry or
mahogany be confined are
deeds and companionship
in memories
bound;
which, in fact, despite inherent
biodegradability, become man's means
to immortality.
Behold! Folks battle against
piety,race and land
Compatriots breath last
at our feet in war field
Most discerning creatures
survived on Earth for ages
What unfortunate genes we possessed
behave us brutal shameless beasts
Let's build our path to forever exist
like one tribe on this mother planet
Declare a flawless hope for successions
getting rid of our greed with arrogance
Let's link our hands together as one voice
war against poverty, pollution and epidemics
By Swarnapali Liyanage
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.