Synthesized Poems | Examples

Presences as such

Roses that are naturally growing in the breeze 
As such, their dancing presenting pride of silence 
Needing not for any comments on their success 
Nor for scoring much of the contrived bliss 

Presences are irrelevant to any third parties 
All them are arranged such as thee and mine
Irrelevance to conditions such as poor or rich 
As such, presented natural, fair as much we can 

Your heartbeats matched mine, as such, we feel 
Deeper than that, understandings are from the innermost 
For synthesized breathing made by heartbeats thrill 
As such, virtues presented as much as we can

Monarch Butterflies

October days with overcast; hauntingly dreary skies
Underneath which; I am drawn to your essense breadthwise
Strong Northwest winds, become the summers greenest leaves demise
Your Auburn eyes; are my vision of monarch butterflies
Floating on air, gliding; you touch my arms thwartwise
Authentic are our feelings; shared, with no disguise
Recharging each other's batteries; in the ways we empathize
Your eyes may resemble the color rust; for me, they simply galvanize
The way I feel about you, that could not be faked, or  synthesized
How we both find safety in each other's arms being compartmentalized

A Source of Hope

Love is wanted,
Desired with all our might,
We seek it out, day and night.

Even in a world of machines,
Where love can be synthesized,
Our hearts still yearn and long to be realized.

Love is needed,
It's a force that can't be denied,
It brings us together, side by side.

Even when our paths diverge,
Love remains a constant, a guiding light,
It helps us navigate through life's darkest nights.

Love is an apology,
A way to mend and heal,
It helps us overcome and make a deal.

With all the joys and sorrows we may face,
Love is the one thing that can take its place,
A source of hope, a saving grace.

So let us seek out love,
With all our hearts and all our might,
For it is the one thing that can make things right.

A Buxom Blighter's Broadway Blues

I do not see the poem yet I tried to post last night.
Is it too soon? The why's not clear, I feel emerging fright,
and I'm here blushing in the wings! Will curtain find its part,
an audience know love verse sings, mood synthesized by heart?

Is there some test I need to pass, a path I must repent,
a God to pray to? I'm so crass! I've virtue left not spent
to bridge the gaps in life's extremes? I'll bet I've gone too far;
what creds I had now flushed with dreams! My brain is so bizarre!

November 2020

PS: I believe that a 'blighter' can be either male or female. I've
certainly seen men who look buxom, and both 'Species' can be
cute, funny, shapely, political, and poetic, so my title feels like it
is more or less androgynous.

But if recent politics has taught me anything, it is that the inverse of
the old saw is probably more accurate than the original ever was,
i.e., "Time heals all wounds!"

Prose Poem the Eternal

A sense of the scared,where the spirit finds liberty.An everchanging  interplay in perfect counterbalance.This reciprocal aesthetic of reflections synthesized in a balanced vision.Shadows and light,intense contrasts,circles, and squares juxtaposed in a filtered dynamic of visual pleasure

Casey's Love Affair

Just a boy covering tracks
           On the corner of Wilkens Ave.
           Whispers his passion
           To the salesmen
           Of death!

           Synthesized heaven
           Where high wired souls
           Return to
           The hole
           Sunk into the bed.

           And spectacular rays
           Do not pierce 
           His red lined mirrors.

           Once stained blue
           And young
           And in love - With me.
              
            And now
            He hides his tattoos
            Under a jacket.

            He is still covering tracks.

All In the Name of Progress 2nd Addition

just the same ring
with a round of row zees
     awash manicured lawns
     with generic grass seed 

     that doth spring
to life with synthesized,
(yet deadly) chemicals meant
     to guarantee wrest
ting control might and subdue
     so nature forced

     to become nsync from in vest
ment plot purchase
     as proving grounds to test
a money bagged well paid
     laborer at leisure time

sprawled asleep in comfy hammock
     a much needed self deserved rest
whereat successful proof
     evinces "American dream"

     no matter quest
necessitates becoming linkedin
     with fast paced lifestyle
     attendant ulcer inducing "pest"
keeping up appearances,

     where younglings nest
scolding woe begotten kith
     if flawless grounds get messed
by clod hopping kids and/or smart pets
     upsetting calculus figuring formula

     determining trigonometric 
     landscaping tangential
     to maintaining perfectly
     squared off turf especially lest
the neighbors cease becoming hospitable
     and stop offering gold plated invitations
     to such honorable humble guest.

Inertia Frigidity

Step into the date-stamped time DeLorean,
move forward
on backward spinning nostalgia rims
Centrifugal hourglass ... 
short hand and long
Distorted view of time,
kinetic highway romantic destiny
Blurred future sideway images,
past memories rearview exit gone
Engine gunned to the max,
space curvature gives good distant
escape velocity
Point of reference
for the necessary fuel alibi 
goodbye synthesized
Faceless retrograde emotions
be nitro traction void vulcanized
Heart on a timer-delay standstill,
inertia frigidity
Frozen thoughts,
toss away the last empty bottle:
drained viscosity real liquid feelings
Feel the sub-zero wind chill 
of a refrigerated body,
another temporal roadkill
Only cardiac arrest
will take you to a stalled location
Pick a random course,
move on 
to the next unknown destination
Fate uncertain — 
Love theory is all relative
Outside of the winged doors,
birds of chance
perch watch on a deja vu branch
Waiting to draft on the breeze
of your exhaustion,
when your fuming desires run out of time
Passion entropy ... loss of heat
Mind settled comfortably
into inertia frigidity

Social Media

Pulse...zenith...drums...a shattering shudder
Words...Zion...neat...the platter unuttered
Thoughts zealots speak that magnets can't cover

Hatred, Hatred, Hatred and then...
What one friend begins as trend then ends as...
That someone that spins untruths as hints of...
Those that one two their meaning
Like science substitutes one seeing
Like dreadlocks without gravity
And minus without anything
Plus you...

Pulse pluralized ways synthesized a brain synthetic
Words harmonized vision fantasized fame unedited
Thoughts publicized talk bloody eyed shame touched heaven

Fallen, Fallen, Fallen is taught intention
Love savored its mention until...
Love favored an ending that ends the beginning
With feelings that have a habit of blending...
What this is then this plus you
And what it means to know what you say
With a treacherous heart leading the mind by sound
Instead of the other way around...
Thoughts then words then pulse.

Love Is

Love is wanted, 
Love is needed, 
Love has even been synthesized,
Your neural pathways can be harmonized, synchronized, and then verbalized.
When frequencies and sound waves organize, 
It pushes and pulls to pluralize, The inevitable mortification of pride.
Love is wanted, 
Love is needed, 
Love is to apologize.

Common

A life like this

Truly influential for me to write this

Articulated thought of a musical mind

Dictionary defined, deal disseminate

A sky with no limit, called to innovate

Metaphorically moved, so to resonate

Artful reflectivity, relational domain

Holistically original, critical acclaim

Chances taken before they pass

Grasp and empower – it will all make sense

A find of forever, together we rise

A rock to pass, shoot for the stars

Comprehensive bars set to bridge the divide

Land on common ground, a synthesized sound

A question with an answer, you would be that call

A lyrical league, facets of skill

Dexterous dimension, unequivocal will

The resounding Wright to shine your light

A light that shines, expression – insight

 

Written by Geraldine Taylor ©

The Brink

Alcohol’s a drug that deludes the brain,
especially in vulnerable youth.
For it numbs hurts and emotional pain,
trading reality for a false truth.

Beer is the gateway to misery's domain,
replacing self-hate with synthesized love.
And if you're addicted and can't abstain,
confide in your friends or the Lord above.

Liquor fuels anguish, distilled from tears,
and yet, you'll pay its toll despite the price.
And when you reawaken sleeping fears,
occasional use morphs into a vice.

Many are blind to the pitfalls of drink,
unaware, they're teetering on the brink.


(Sonnet)


3/4/2017

Love Me Too

Bro, am meeting a guy regularly
He is generous
Admirable and
Not only that
Understanding and caring too 

Smart and genuine 
Interesting character
Very honest and humble
Aspiring and inspiring  

Kindness is what he was synthesized of 
Richness is in his heart 
I think even I love him 
Shyness stopped me from proposing him till now
Hope you'll accept our love
Never he would leave me alone, its my certitude
And, and and his name is the first letter of each line

Casiotone For the Painfully Alone

It’s all the little things noticed or found
Introspect details about human flaws
Draped over sparse and electronic sound
Speaking specifics on love’s small faux pas
 
Lingering decay to crush broken hearts
That thud to machine-made, synthesized beats
On a low-end keyboard and salvaged parts
Locked into sad loops and doomed to repeat
 
Sorting the issues of small town affairs
Hopelessly hopeful that things might work out
Where controllers fail to capture the snare
Left to lay tracks made of sorrow and doubt
 
Calmly relaying bones from an attic
In heartfelt words and digital static

The People From the Past

We had it all and it will never come back
Sporting heroes both white and black
A different time, a different age
Different class, when you turn back the page
Lets start with the death of one man
The dancer, the catch me if you can
Muhammad Ali
I hear the kids cry “who's he”
The greatest boxer to ever step onto the canvas
We will never see the like again, alas

Bob Dylan, The Beatles, Elvis the King
Doing what they do best, doing their thing
Martina Navratilova, the queen of the lawn
How many times did she win Wimbledon
I could name so many great people from a time long gone
Be it sport, acting or music but now we have none

No characters or charisma with most modern fame
No one that stands out, that you could name
Money is the new god with robotic strategy
Diamond shaped football, that's not for me
The new names of music, garage and rap
Dub step and house, I call it crap

Diana Ross, The rolling Stones
Music that made sense and went right in your bones
What do the young have, that is close to the past
Synthesized dubbing and talking dead fast
We had it all and it will never come back
Sporting heroes both white and black

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