The Riddle of the Word

I belong to a Riddle game forum, in which posters are obliged to guess the previous riddle before posting their own. Since riddles are typically in poetic format (inspired by Tolkien) I decided to post my most recent riddle, which took the Riddle Roomers forty=one days to solve.

The Riddle of 'The Word'

Not people obsessed with birds were they

who with certainty, denied any special maternity,

In the palace of Wisdom now defiled.

The people cried in defense from the Nile,

to the northern seas, thoroughly riled.

On the shores of the Aegean

Came a great legion

Sequestered, they sought

to pray and find the answer.

What word did they settle on?

Answer: (Theotokos)


Poetry Links 10/29

There is always exceptional stuff on the web, but there has been a superabundance of it lately -

Erin Elizabeth
Sharon Loo
Arioborzine Farin

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Nothing to do with poetry, but this is aparently what ancient language I am:

Your Score: Akkadian

You scored

You are Akkadian, a blend of the incomprehensible symbols of the Sumerians with the unwritable sounds of the early Semitic peoples. However, the writing just doesn't suit the words and doesn't represent everything needed, so you end up a schizoid mess. Invented in Babylon, you're probably to blame for that tower story. However, crazy as you are, you're much loved and appreciated, and remain actively in use by records keepers long after schools have switched to other languages.

Link: The Which Ancient Language Are You Test written by imipak on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the The Dating Persona Test


An Attempted Poetic Expression of Blessed Mary’s Voice

(From one who once heard her speak.)

“With a ring of lily petaled bells
She speaks in bright soprano reflections,
Of giving sun and mirrored moon…”

Eternity contained within a voice, and yet
Three lines are all this pen can conceive!
The womb is dry, the mouth barren,
With truths that cannot be put to paper!

The ink dried! All expression denied!
Cassandra trice accursed yet no Apollo scorned.
Three lines, no more! Three lines, no more!
And every word falls dead at which it speaks.

“With a ring of lily petaled bells
She speaks in bright soprano reflections,
Of giving sun and mirrored moon…”


Hidden Disability

It's a crud poem, but I wrote it to get some negative feelings off my chest...

The pain in my spine is sharp,

But invisible to watching eyes.

They look down on me.

They say that I’m too lazy.

But the knife is not piercing Them!

…Only I.


Palm to Palm: As Holy Palmers Kiss

Most of the time
I dislike being touched.
It’s too overwhelming.
Fusions and Supernovae!


Every now and again
The loneliness becomes an ache.
It’s too overwhelming.
Entropy and Black holes!


I’m afraid to ask.
For the only thing worse
Than suffering alone
Is rejection when you reach.


Fusions and Supernovae,
Entropy and Black Holes.
The life cycle of a Sol is
Wasted in the vacuum of space.


Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Poem - The Final Solution

Aka: When the Brothers remove Shredder's head from his body

To push the matter to a final conclusion
I stand in a fine red mist, sprinkling
A pitter patter of soft surrender
To silence in the slicing through a throat

To push the matter to a final conclusion
Twin leaders but chosen only one, splattered
A violent fountain choked with filth and bile
To Hell, with the severing of his head

To push the matter to a final conclusion
Three stand in trinity stance, arterial-spray
Erythrocytes and leukocytes and thrombocutes
To brain death, through lack of oxygen

To push the matter to a final conclusion
Four brothers alone in cardinality, bloody
Sin held by all through struck by one regardless
To Shredder’s defeat, and initiation into murder

Morbid stuff comes out when I get bored

Crabs slither, dragging their claws
In the moonlight, or is it you
Come back to claim me?

A gentle breeze brushes the palms
In the moonlight, or is it you
Come back to touch me?

The tide pulls at my bare ankles
In the moonlight, or is it you
Come back to drown me?


Introduction to Ashok

I am very happy to have joined this small poetic community, and I hope it grows.

Here are some commentaries on poems I love to read and reread. You'll find towards the bottom of that list a list of my own poems, and I do encourage you to read them and find out if you think I have any standing as a poet or not.

I wish I had more to add, but I think that's all for now.

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(This is an old poem of mine, but my personal favorite.)

I’m letting you slip through my fingers again tonight
I stare into cerulean eyes only to find myself
Thinking of something else entirely, like palm trees
Or the taste of pineapple dissolving in my mouth
Then you blink, blue to cream to blue
Jolting me awake, my tongue dries in my mouth
Have you been speaking all this time?

I ponder the courses of my wandering heart
And in pondering, my mind once again leaves you
To linger on the shores of psychology
Embracing philosophy
Dancing in the sand with St. Augustine
We’re tracing footprints in the shallows only to see them
Washed away by the tide and swell of you
My feet are cramping, I curl them under myself
Have you been speaking all this time?

Navy knit sweater over the crest of shoulders
It moves with your breathing, a hypnotic pulse
Your breath catches mine and I fall
Plunging head first into Davy Jones’ locker
The quicksilver current carries me away
I am entranced by dolphin laughter
Ensnared in tangles of seaweed
I see a flash of sapphire in my periphery
And sink down, seeking the quiet
Lonely depths of the mid-Atlantic trench
Then, hooked and netted, thrown onto the beach
My lungs paralyzed, gaping wide like a flounder
The door slams, I’m alone on the couch
Have you been speaking all this time?


Challenge response-

Latest news: Mel writes more random religous poetry.

This is not my best poem, but it fulfills the challenge. *sigh*

The first
The Origin
Creator of All
But, crushed, His blood poured out
Shed for our infirmity.
Along the narrow streets
Death loses the prize
We kneel, search for
He, our dawn
and also

Poetry DOOM Challenge #1

He he he, I love the word DOOM, don't you?

Anywho, this is challenge number one for this group and I hope it results in brilliant work that will forever immortalize us as poetry masters! Or something like that... Here goes:

This is the Syllables Challenge!

1) Free verse.
2) No rhyme.
3) There must be a definate structure to the poem, and that structure must be created by manipulating the number of syllables per line.
3) No haiku or any other premade syllabic forms. You've got to make up your own syllable structure.
4) Did you notice that there are two number threes?
5) No cheating or else... you will be sent to a zero g room with crack-monkies, bananas, and one veeeery frustrated elephant.


I'm making it up as I go...

Oh cradle of Love
The softest Light, hovers
Birdlike, in my thoughtless heart--
It whispers, mourns, weeps, fears
Angers at my hesitation, tears
at me, my solemn thought,
I have waited, and far too long--
Love calls, its song, wanting,
Oh peace which beckons, promises,
It has been too long...
Light, grasp me, take with You,
Now and forever.
Pull me, bind me, mold me,
Make me One with you.
Replace my maligning sorrow with Yours.
Turn my mind to more
to flashing crescendo, Joy in all the wonders,
which echoes brilliantly tall:
"Make mine heart like unto Yours"
That I might know You
now and forever.


Stumbling, she humbly enters...

I have the honor of being invited to post in this lovely place of rhyme and unreason.

And so, here is my first poem:

Gregorian Chant

Many waves flow against a high shore,
incomprehensible, unless you know
there is more--
The complex made simple, like in old days.
And so as a simple pine box
is carried out the world says
"How beautiful!"
And stops, holds breath, waits...

This strange new world tries, with vanity,
to make this same complex simplicity,
but though it is lovely,
it is not the same with computers.



Can you ask the leaf to move the wind?
Coming from the grave to kiss the tree.
Skipping autumn gold and winter death,
Making Spring bud from Summer green?


Alien on Autopilot (A poem for Superman Returns)

I can fly above the stars
And it's really quite amazing!
The birds scatter loosing feathers,
The little ants below can only wish.

Having a son is sunlight fantastic!
Lois knocks me kryptonite from the sky.
Flying nauseates every now and again;
Alien vomit behind alien teeth and gums.

Creating exposes at typing speed;
Being ignored is a most comfortable suicide.
For Clark Kent it’s the stuttering obfuscation of
A blue and red mirage in swooping style.

Cold dead krypton killed five years worth.
Space travel can be dangerous to the fool!
The Seat Perilous was taken when I blinked,
So I put my suitcases in the janitor’s closet.

Alien logic disputes with parental advice
Both sets contradict with equal solemnity
My mother sells the land and moves to Montana
Fortress and farm are lost and so am I

Superman can’t think for himself
And Clark’s too timid to even try.
The savior who listens to your pleas
Lives on autopilot and never lies.

I can fly above the moon!
But my friends are rather few…
The birds have flocks of hundreds,
And the little ants are self-sufficient.

I am full of POETRY-GOO and thus will write more!

1 (Lent)
Fasting is fun
except when it
makes you so
hungry that you
yell at your own
grandma for
stupid stuff.

2 (St. Augustine's Confessions)
To take a pear
and feel the rush
rebellion in the making
pigs throwing pears to pigs
grunting and squealing in glee
although sin tastes bad and the pears
taste like death
3 (Johnny the Homicidal Maniac)
Is it worse to deserve death
or to deal death to those who deserve?
Looking into the abyss can be scary
and looking into the mirror scarier still.
Death comes accidentally on purpose
but still doesn't kill the emotions that crush you.
4 (Superman Returns)
I can fly
And it's really quite amazing
The birds scatter
The little ants below can only stare
Having a son is sunlight fantastic
Loosing Lois to someone else knocks me from the sky
Flying nauseates me
Being ignored is comfortable suicide
Superman is a stuttering obfuscation
And I hate all of it


Bitter memories and sweet purring kitties!

1 (My dead-beat Mother)
poisonous people
infected and infecting
reaching out only to snatch back

biting the hand and
entangling the weave
to love them is to die inside

they hurt themselves
and share the pain
a danger to the human race

red smile hides worms inside
insidious and charming
a plague on the kind hearted

lies and lies and damning truths
slither helplessly through sodden lips
the hiss is a plea for help

poison and poisoned
spreading the feverish bite
to die is to become them

eat the dying fruit

2 (My sister's cat)
kitty cat kitty cat
soft with warming purr
teeth nip and love scratch
the sun warms but
only family keeps you happy



in the shade of all my regrets
we walk along the regal beach
the tide pulls sand between our toes
you shouldn't have done this
you spent too much money

in the shade of all my regrets
a breeze of mist and tropics blows
lifting my hair as i shake my head
i did it because you wanted it
i did it because i love you

in the shade of all my regrets
make believe looks real enough
the ocean still sings in the conch
but then I open my eyes, and
there was no trip, and you're dead

A smorgasboard of random stuff. Yay!

1 (poetry)
sharing is nudity
dangerously tempting
running at the mouth
to share too much
a flinch but i'm blind

2 (selfishness)
that face is not a reflection

those eyes are not your eyes
so when you salivate
remember that they don't
or might
or definately agree

3 (Why am I obsessed with beach imagery? WHY?!)
I write about things I don't like
And places I don't care to see
I dream about the ocean
But yawn upon the beach

(The Blessed Virgin Mary) 4
tiny hands and smooth
holds the Child without calluses
no sin to blacken the blood
in purity she rises
for Her it isn't to rot
but gracious blessings evermore