Technicality Poems

Dwell I in a Conjuration

Curled as when unborn,
In amnionic ignorance,
Chaos drifts to outer vacuum,
Flown out to nothing lands.
Left in stillness are but blinks,
Flicks of twitches, nightmare flashes;
The molten shadows, upset ink,
Pouring out a realm of lies. 

Eloi, Eloi, why do I forsake me?
The mind that playing God,
Pretends to be myself,
Perverse passions, dreaded fears,
Thrown at me as real.

I know not when the conjurations,
Are born but all internally,
Only then in hindsight seen,
I lived in pure deception.

There dwell I in mind’s invention,
Years that last but days,
And hours but mere moments.
Worlds that all a blur,
Conceal the coffin’s nail,
Purgerer’s conviction—
Of rat king imitation: serpent knots;
Thus seen—

Squeeze the throat — make glottal stop,
Force out the lizard head,
Still breathing—
Half digested, hydrochloric mess,
Alive on technicality,
Headless reptile forced,
Back out where it was consumed.

definitely juried in

The swirls in the painting were thickly slathered onto the canvas
Would they ever dry? The artist was unconcerned.
Concentrating on the creative process, not the technicality of his art.
The art teacher was amazed at the beauty of the poppy.

This novice painter had created a masterpiece in this gorgeous floral.
The edges of the petals were crisp and clean, the folds looked real.
He wondered what else this young student was capable of doing.
The quintessential art piece, definitely juried into their art show.

Back To Live

My smart iPhone drowned, what a dread! 
No purpose to get out of bed. 
Can’t do without fidgets 
With smarty pants digits 
When my social life just dropped dead!

My buddy, from a dire grave fate, 
I hastened to resuscitate.
My beloved device 
I interred deep in rice -
Saved us both from desperate state!

It seems one trite banality
Of minor technicality.
The truth and the matter, 
We’re addicted to latter -
Sweet virtual reality! 

Though on technology we thrive, 
For more exciting toys we strive, 
Let’s put smart phones aside, 
Out of sight, out of mind -
Let’s smarten up and live alive! 

My smart iPhone drowned, what a thrill! 
Hands free I go outside and chill. 
My deflective device -
Silent, deep dug in rice. 
I have been mastering live skill! 




February 2, 2022

Happy Fathers Day

Where the morning hugs 
nighttime with gentle sighs
Floating on a warm breeze caressed 
with whispered goodbyes
Where words and emotions can 
always be realized
The sun and the moon play 
together and stars are idolized
Within the thinly vailed atmosphere 
of dreams and reality 
Where the sun and the moon 
reveal their personality
To all the daddy's who love 
with a fatherly technicality 
Here's to you on this 
special day with all the love 
With great admiration for 
stepping up and rising above
Showing and being there for 
anything your kids can think of
I bow down with the utmost 
respect to say to you, well done
Like the heavens above showing 
your kids that your the one
Being that father for your 
kids without question

HAPPY FATHERS DAY!

Velvet

Who came up with 
The idealism that 
Sex has to do with love 
Yes from a biblical perspective 
It was made from up above
A deed so fulfilling 
It makes one question 
The state in which they are living 
How can it become so misconstrued 
That many feel as if 
They have simply been used 
For a physical technicality 
And sometimes this is 
An authentic reality
But there is much joy to be found 
With just the touch of a hand 
Can erase all that I have to withstand
A breathe on my neck 
Causes me to never regret 
Our first, second and third meeting 
But do I always need a reason 
To long for just one manipulation 
Skin to skin 
Acquittal of sensualism 
The ambiance of sexual euphoria 
Is a wonder to be adored 
So how can sex be associated with love 
When it’s a matter of choice
So we all can enjoy pleasure 
And rejoice......

'who'

The one who lies
or the one lied to
  ~Who does the lie hurt more?



   Note:  In the last line, the word 'Who' technically should be 'Whom.'
             The writer prefers that it remain a technicality.

What We Realized About Reality

What We Realized About Reality

What we had realized about reality,
Because of bad results of technicality,
Not well laid;
Mistakes made;
Final results ended up being a fatality.

Jim Horn

Eddy's Itty Bitty Kitty

Eddy lives in the gullibility and cohesibility of a gritty city
Between assimilability civility reality and triviality 

Here Eddy’s senility is merely an eligible technicality    
A wink of eccentricity fragility debility futility impossibility risibility

Still under that mighty illusion of invincibility virility and viability
Invisibility’s equivalent to gentility favouring stability and incredulity   

Eyes void of deceptibility infallibility predictability divisibility
Eddy is still irresistibly witty with intelligibility bordering geniality 

The indelibility of his ability versus disability for agility and flexibility 
Gives Eddy eligibility admissibility accessibility feasibility visibility and divisibility  

Implicit credibility whimsicality spirituality frivolity and squeezability 
Eddy believes there’s no margin for self-pity when you own a pretty itty bitty kitty


Submitted on March 25, 2018 to contest ALLITERATION POEM sponsored by SILENT ONE  -  RANKED 2ND

Give Your Contest Goose Eggs To Someone Else

Give Your Contest Goose Eggs To Someone Else

Connie collects goose eggs from contest
Far honest than the geese lays the nest
The basket case now full
Lipped with geese's bull
It's time to be a contest orphan blessed

connie pachecho

11/30/17

Note-I admire Viv Wigley. 35 placements in his recent poetry contest.

That's commendable.

It's a *standard contest,* not the *Olympics.*

I'm sure he gave lower placements and deductions for *mistakes.*

This is mirth.

It gives a shine to all the contestants  and a chance that their 

poems be read, especially those on the bottom tier. 

It follows the PS premise of promoting a poet's growth.


What's wrath are those contest sponsors that treat *standard

poetry contests* as the *Olympics* ... those few that come

riding up on their broom, black top hats and all, nose a twitching

and wiping those poet's entries from the face of the Earth for

some technicality (oh my!) or for not appealing to the sponsor's

muse (oh my!), which is the antithesis of promoting growth.

To the Viv Wigley's, I duly applaud.

Humanity Before Paper

Subsistence defined by need, not want
A time when provisions made to survive
With no barriers; wealth not reality
Now a time when commercialism shadows death. 
Purchase for consumption; nothing is free
Their poisons inserted, to see growth spiral
Populations diseased; their hunger satisfied
Success not a work of art, but a measure of worth . 
Inventions praised; expense raised
Weapons more devastating, eyes only faucets
The world's end bound; prophesied by man, knowing his own hand.
Science a technicality of beauty; life not learned
Math bewildering; love confused
Reversion, a must; humanity's teachings before papers'.

Six Random and Rather Ridiculous Observations Concerning Love

1: If love is a game we need a referee
2: How do I love thee? Let me count the ways!  Um…
3: I loved her to death but got off on a technicality
4: Star-crossed lovers occasionally get crossed up and can get rather cross about it too
5: She stole my heart and REFUSED to return it so now I'm a heartless person
6: So I begged her to please have a heart and she said, “I already got TWO you idiot!”

For We Are Many

layers upon layers 
the amount of blood we've shed for this 
we have proved wrong several prophecies of these hysterical soothsayers 
rumors upon rumors, ‘tis true that we received that dreadful deathly kiss 
yes, ‘tis true that we are many 
many of similar ways 
yet in the end, the closing of an age; a revered leader we cannot reveal any 
however an end cannot be achieved at the first phase 
we bleed for the cause 
in all technicality the cause not so much an ideal in itself, but the means for the end 
and we are the gauze 
we cleanse the tainted and protect the secrets we took an oath to defend 
we are the actors within the play 
but don't misunderstand, this play is not pretend 
we are the pawns made of clay 
we will die for the cause, and yes we know that we'll surely melt in the heat of the day 
we are meek 
and we are mild 
what we seek 
is to calm the child 
that cries out in fear, because his mother has melted, and his father has faded away.

Not Quite a Love Poem

If I was to write a love poem
I would write about the smallest things that fill my heart
And not the words that are spoken, but the moments
So quickly pass by, a hand moving a streak of hair,
The breath passing by the small of a curving neck,
And a spark of joy in the depth of brown eyes.

I would write about the care paid to trivial conversation
Followed by a gentle smile, a reply and engagement,
The full attention offered naturally, the bubble that
engulfs the lovers. Whether wealthy or poor
Warmth is lent to each other, being enriched
Consumed, leisurely imbued and returned.

If I was to write a love poem
I would not seek the rhyme or the rhythm nor
The technicality that makes it right or meaningful
I would simply follow the flow to reach
The "destination that is you" ending this sentence 
And leading to a new inspiration, the beginning.

I would start counting the steps, perhaps twelve
Each one an elevation of joy, a breath much deeper
Than the one before. A feeding of desire and even
Hunger for that higher love. As each step ascends
Towards those ideals held closely guarded in ones heart.
The question being will we risk it all...

Congratulations On the Technicality

you are warm like i
light in their eyes
bright with a fuel
a desire to consume
more than a yule
heating and grew
repeating on new
breathing in air
sweet from a wind
taken within
alas alike
but just not quite
i can fly
beyond the sky
where you would die
the earth compressed
might make you depressed
if you felt too
but you are  the same, 
even if blue
use what you can
choking when done
i choke only
to clear my lungs
im fragile 
yet can travel
in ways your play
to this day 
would unravel

Guilty of Everything

Brandon’s lawyer phone him up
he said “I’ll make it quick.
a big indictment’s coming down
they want to make it stick
they’ve been on you since ‘82
got evidence in piles
witnesses and wiretaps
and photographs and files

Every law upon the books
you’ve broken and maligned
with every bill upon the hill
still waiting to be signed
all of God’s commandments
and those he just implied
even laws of nature
you’ve left them all defied 

Guilty of everything
no precedent
guilty of everything
‘til you’re proven innocent

Ever since the dawn of time
not once in history
has a man been charged 
with EVERY crime
it’s plain to see
there must be some technicality”.

So after the acquittal 
he gave some interviews
no one ever saw a man
so worthy of the news
and as for Brandon’s lawyer
the accomplice to the crime
with new laws written everyday
he’s working overtime

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