"oscillate" poems
Dark menacing clouds wander aimlessly in the sky.
The cuckoo sings a sweet melodious tune
in anticipation of the much-needed rain.
The whistling wild wind threatens
to drive away the poor rain.
The fronds of the coconut palms dance wildly
and the trunks oscillate in the fierce wind.
The peacock enters with a proud colorful display.
Farmers look up towards the sky with a prayer in their heart:
Dear Lord, let there be monsoon again.
Little children gather on the terraces of their houses
to enjoy the bliss and wetness of the first rain.
Women hurriedly collect dried clothes from the clothes’ lines.
Birds are utterly confused and don’t know where to fly.
The Sun and rain clouds play hide-and-seek.
A bolt of lightning is seen in the western sky.
Soon the rumbling thunder shatters
the serenity of the evening
as Heaven opens its gates
to pour out its soothing nectar
and we know…
monsoon is here again.
Gita Ashok
9/10/2010, 1:40 pm
Oct 9, 2010
Oct 9, 2010 at 12:22 AM UTC
i.
Next to the seashore
Of Boracay beach;
Seahorse's oscillate
To the turquoise seep.
ii.
Dawn turneth dusk
As the firefly's light;
The hole's in the sky
Burning brightly, heaven's sight.
iii.
Mine inamorata valentine
Covered in seasalt salve;
Out of the deep blue
She arise's from the shell's.
v.
Walking toward's me
Coming mine way;
We lay upon ourn blanket
Whilst cuddling, reminiscing the day.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane nagley dedication
Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 1:56 PM UTC
Opening a book,
page one opens and I now reawake.
Leaving for adventures sake,
where fantastical creatures awake.
Legendary battles they will partake,
epic stories, they will make.
A great king will rise to power, yet he will fake,
now the lives of his people, he will forsake.
Their furies and frustrations, will oscillate, like a rattlesnake,
As the king sits upon his throne, realizing his mistake.
Oh, now he will leave behind a terrible wake,
as he will be cooked upon the stake.
Along with the witch he turned into a hotcake.
Oh, what a fate,
the king surely must hate.
As he burns to a flake,
falling to be scooped by a rake.
I must now put on the brake,
as it is getting late,
and into another day this story I must take.
Sep 6, 2016
Sep 6, 2016 at 10:14 PM UTC
A coffin, my love,
Built of porcelain bones,
Under your weight, they endlessly groan.
One breath, my love,
you oscillate in my lungs,
you intoxicate where you've stung.
Your venom, my love,
Sinks with every inflection
Of your unvoiced rejection.
A garden, my love,
Full of flowers turning black,
hiding smiles full of cracks.
.
Cut my skin, it's you I'd bleed.
You're the resting place I've come to need,
I'm the shell of a girl left to be freed.
But you didn't see,
you couldn't see,
I peered into your coffin,
and I couldn't find,
I didn't believe,
That in that place,
there wasn't a single trace,
Of me.
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 5:32 PM UTC
when scenes
pixelate
halt in a cell's
frozen scream
slow-motion rage
cloaks grief
do earth's plates
shift at all
respond to pain
torn out of shape
in savage roar
no
we matter to ourselves
on some days
while he or she
reads the code
to check the tides
oscillate in
crawl space
hidden
in island habitat's
darkened cave
we try to breathe
solitary venture
as days run out
leaving dust
and bones
in silence
as a new
dawn
rises
Jan 21, 2019
Jan 21, 2019 at 5:28 AM UTC
there is a wrestle going on inside of me
an epic match
nAch vs nAff
**At one end “Duty”-the undefeated ruling champion
And at the other end
“Desire”-a strong contender for the title**
Come and watch this fight to the death!
get out the fizz and popcorn
join the fun!
see me oscillate-between one and the other
i’m like an old grandfather clock
can’t decide
this lunacy is felt
in my deepest self, my core
stretched so far I’m torn apart
every limb every pore seethes in the anticipation
of the win
my mind bounces off the walls
I wonder what the point is at all-
someday this will end in a drunken brawl.
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
07.09.2012
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Sep 7, 2012
Sep 7, 2012 at 12:19 PM UTC
August nights are deceptive
in almost every way.
Chivalry may only go so far
two blocks in the dark.
Pausing in natural progression
cross-legged pavement within a 70s orange halo
to pet the neighborhood cat and to measure
the circumstances of the crossroads.
To measure up the exhausted opponents
of the oldest colosseum.
your frown spoke only negations
betrayed by your truth-or-dare eyes.
whites revealing an ancient wound,
irises concealing an urgency
that spread to me on the sidewalk
like purple chalk on the driveway
Or tendrils of ink in water.
I watch the Janus of your being
oscillate like glass
afraid of breaking itself.
The mouth that denies
is the mouth that calls its own bluff
Renouncing its resolve all over
damp trembling skin and
the high of oxytocin.
I'll... I'll see you again tomorrow?
August nights are deceptive
in almost every way.
Oct 16, 2012
Oct 16, 2012 at 7:18 PM UTC
*I once had my mental faculties in check
And my heart’s pacemaker functioning relatively normally
Didn’t know you’d be a pain in the neck
Causing my heart to oscillate solemnly
From acute insanity to imagined bliss
Gravity’s power rendered dysfunctional
And I plunged heedlessly into love’s abyss
Evidently an amateur radical
My ego prostrated
My emotions infatuated*
Am indeed yet another statistic
Of cupid’s uncanny antics.
Aug 27, 2013
Aug 27, 2013 at 8:48 AM UTC
People and their belongings can be said to be waves which oscillate at a given frequency.
Friends are the people with which you harmonize well, or interestingly enough for it to work.
Hobbies are activities which harmonize with you well, or such that you are inspired to seek it out.
Some others are artifacts that your mind has embraced in such a way that you are it as it is you.
There is no such thing as a unison in this phenomenon.
No two waves are identical
but at the same time
no one is isolated.
All sing together to create the plethoric mono-chord of things we call 'Reality'.
Dissonance is there
but it is absolutely relative
as it is also relatively absolute.
Apr 1, 2013
Apr 1, 2013 at 5:51 AM UTC
All the roads are closed. Silence metastasizes through the stretch of EDSA. Cold seeps in bone. Sun still flagellates.
Oscillate through sound space and whitewashed walls. Seismic grunt of jeepney awakens the signs: no avatars, yet. The night was as deep as any lover, a fine blistering moon glares through lit rivers.
Nothing exists except heads of tacks and maimed populace ambulating across roads sequined with ermine light. The disquiet approximates the lightness of
buildings in repair. Scaffolds, ubiquitous lovers,
clouds explode into white, and everything else like pain, pales in comparison with the slow twitch of everything.
Today there will be no siren nor
simultaneous joust of cyclists in perpetual motion— just you contending
against hues of all graffiti:
Cataract of anguish. News of killing.
Incarnadine trees netted with aureoles burning bright in solstices. Penumbral undulation of
forethought and afterthought.
Dislimned – all; you, left
in polaroid taken in solitary shutter,
in pursuit of light.
Nov 17, 2015
Nov 17, 2015 at 1:59 PM UTC
This moment is hushed by ecstasy.
The moment's breathe is held~
and you can see the dusty particles
floating through the pillars of light.
This is the exhale,
and is also the silence.
The observation tower of consciousness..
It all just orbits-
Minute molecules gyrate
in vast space.
The waves oscillate
in numberless meditation.
This is where thought
originates from.
It is the nature
of the mountain air.
It is the emptiness
in between speech.
It is the moment of possibility
when a loved one is leaving.
It is the moment experienced
when holding a baby first breathing.
It is the stem of
importance and meaning.
I am starting to remember
where we have been
and where we are going.
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 2:19 PM UTC
Oh, how you ***** me!
How you betrayed me!
You took away our romance!
Berated me,
Degenerated me
At every turn of the dance!
Now, when you lied,
How I did cry.
How your mis-deeds turned me out.
I tried to forgive,
Tried to forget.
I tried to figure all this out.
Time and again
You hurt me so.
Everytime you strike with a low blow.
Shame comes to me
In memories.
I try my best to let you go.
You live to lie.
I wonder why
There is no truth inside your heart.
Your acridine,
Oscillate, shine.
You went right through me like a dart.
Where were you
When I needed someone?
You wrecked the soul of who I used to be.
You rocked the loom.
And weaved love's tomb.
You have been the death of me.
This is the time.
I know I'll find
The strength I need to tell you so.
By this night's end,
Freedom begins.
I know I've got to let you go.
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 3:00 PM UTC
We are not just similar
We are parallel !
In this cruel world of all kinds of vectors
It's either an invariable distance
Or a fully superposed confusion
No single intersection
And we lie there
stubborn and hopeless
Craving a translation
We are not just similar
We are parallel !
Our limits confined to a single plane
As life flows in all directions
We miss the marvels around us
In every remaining dimension
And we lie there
Blind and shameless
Craving a translation
Louder words
Barely heard
Answers clouded by blur of ignorance
Questions falsely trigger negative emotion
Chaos in misplaced transference
As mazes form from conversation
And we lie there
Deaf and clueless
Craving a translation
Not even a cascade of tears
Can bend us to converge
Tried turning the other cheek
We failed again to merge
Until one day, we exhaust our energy
Shields get broken, armor gets heavy
Only our inner demons left unstained
But they decided to flee our weak body
So we **** the pride with a suffocating hug
Bend the frown with a devastating kiss
Poison the anger by our cleansing drug
We let go of our ego, off to our bliss
And we lie there
Victorious and united
Achieving a translation
Then days go by as we oscillate
to the finish line in this dance of fate
We survive, it seems
We relive on the extremes
Aligned in happiness
or divergent in depression
In mystical perfection
or in catatonic emptiness
Stubborn and stiff
Blind and deaf
Clueless, shameless, hopeless
Craving irreversible translation
But we are not just similar
We are parallel !
~Epic Monkey
Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 11:20 AM UTC
The Universe started, or possibly not,
(It may oscillate from now to forever.)
Everything perfectly fine tuned for Life,
the Almighty is awesomely clever.
Eleven dimensions! Billions of stars!
Multiverse now without end!
Scientists strive to explain everything,
much to theologians’ chagrin.
They teach about Adam, not atoms as such,
A story of serpent and sin
The “Big Bang” by contrast, doesn’t invoke
a serpentine tinged origin.
There are still known unknowns
And unknown unknowns
In explaining how Life did begin.
Preachers will cling to the gaps in the String-
call it their “Prophet margin.”
Sep 19, 2012
Sep 19, 2012 at 2:44 PM UTC
I
An orange overcast this
evening splayed pink
hues stripes and
saccharine beads. The
twilight caricatures live golden years.
Restless becoming in the garden of
her drunken sons their flowers
soaked in brass, seams
bursting in uncontrollable
laughter we pause. To
admire the briefness
of that era exploding
its petals peppering
spraying saliently we spill
indoors churning across tabletops.
My arms hang dead by my sides.
Her eyes gaping sway
swiftly biting deeply the dottedfaces
lurch. Streets fall unconditional
amidst tears we comb lips
sharply distinctly
her stubborn *** stumbling
handles loosening she holds
my hand my arms hang
dead we pause.
II
Children babble sunlight across
lawns; I hear sirens traffic icecream nips
our tongues twinge on windless
pipes gust our hair flying smiling
at laughter from the
playground behind us.
Placid smiles stain enamoured
halls; for glimpses
we mumble necks crooked
sheets flap draped over bars
her eyes waver glisten
shiver. A warm breeze
dries my hair.
III
Wallowing I oscillate utmost trep-
-idation entangling grappling but
hushed beneath foliage eyes
downturned soil clings when her
fingers impress deeper through
to where rivers end.
Glowing dawn I turn further
lighter almost her hair caught
between the floors;
gently feverish we see turgid
lines the tinniest cracks we pray
on tranquil mornings.
Window panes blemished it was
spring only darker from
deafened rivers throbbing;
under lucid eyes I fold
and heralds blare. We consume
the silence sounding from still lakes.
Aug 26, 2013
Aug 26, 2013 at 9:22 PM UTC
don’t you know? your body
is made of stardust—i see
it glimmering in you.
don’t you know? you are
not too much, you are not
too little, you are an
entire world; you are
mountains, you are trees,
you are the gentle-moving
tides and the soft-curving river,
you are the ever-still lake.
don’t you know? the craters
in your skin are no less
beautiful than the ones that
kiss the moon’s surface.
don’t you know? there are
nebulae inside your chest,
and they glow, they glow,
they glow—you are never
alone in the darkness, love.
don’t you know? the night
sky twinkles along you,
the northern lights oscillate
as you breathe.
don’t you know? don’t you
know? you are beautiful;
you are your own galaxy.
Dec 19, 2016
Dec 19, 2016 at 5:31 AM UTC
Over this I vacillate:
The writing down of verse,
Wealth of language distillate
Quench and cause my thirst.
Easy enough to hesitate
When errands need be run,
Either way I procrastinate
Leaving the other undone.
For quiet I equivocate
Time and time again, for
It is bliss to terminate
The what, the where, the when.
Sometimes I stew in stalemate
Two webs entreat be spun:
Revel in stillness or illustrate,
I pay with time for one.
Rilke said discriminate
If one must write or not,
To breath to write to oscillate
Conundrum of my plot.
Awareness and artistry bifurcate
My will in two extremes,
Yet I know when conjugate
They vivify the means.
Unsure if it is designate
I muse and metaphor,
I know with thrill words compensate
When they begin to roar.
What is the thing that animates
This soul to write a poem,
Passion to note and formulate
Or to be loved at home?
Aug 13, 2010
Aug 13, 2010 at 8:25 AM UTC
Trees forbid the sun
Park benches beckon
The bustling tranquility
The unyielding softness
Her flame melts time like wax
Pinhead of light
In crushing ethereal darkness
Single punctuation mark on a blank page
Sadness of a thousand hearts
Oscillate her strings
But love moves her fingers
And melts arctic emotion
Sep 6, 2013
Sep 6, 2013 at 10:19 PM UTC
My whirligig giggling and jiggling in an ever gyroscopic balancing act of spotting the to and fro, does sometimes wobble recklessly, even falls down. Revealing, revolving, evolving windy patterns and magnetism that spin pointedly upon an axis of gender nonspecific intention, it gets back up and twirls again. Whirls again, girls again, boys again, toys again, an accelerator from beginning to end, how can I be propellant and then, marry, tie it down? Letting loose these inhibitions of how such a perfect plaything may be too perfect, too divine a contraption is scary whirlwind to put my head around. Yet, this desire to go with it, oscillate and make rounds seems truer than any boxed in version of wooden wouldn't I rathers. So there it is, to grace a pirouette with stable partner, might be a portion of the dance, picturesque, but more ensemble pieces may follow. These too add to the brilliant ballet, and we are in it together.
Dec 30, 2015
Dec 30, 2015 at 12:21 PM UTC
let me play for you
come hear my fibrillation
improvisations
reverberating on breeze
in synchronizing rhythms
let me share with you
muse inspired whisperings
reaching deep places
hallowed bamboo offerings
interpretations of air
let me catch the wind
split the stream inside my flute
tonic fingerings
let it oscillate and grow
healing melodies for you
Del Maximo
© March 23, 2009
Feb 15, 2010
Feb 15, 2010 at 4:48 PM UTC
vibrations reverberate
strings and chords collide with paintings on the wall
stage lights oscillate through the dim concert hall
in that brief moment your profile glowed
innocent aqua eyes that froze time
the singer sent sparks through the clouded, smokey air
the most harmonic note settled on your lips
gently weaving the couple strands of hair behind your ear,
i lean in to make music
Jan 31, 2016
Jan 31, 2016 at 2:16 PM UTC
A fire of desire lays behind the smile
Your fist prominent with lost miles
Tasteless passion that oscillate piles
A cold flame embodies the draught
Torn embers that glows and downs
Faded colours that distract and frown
A blunted clarity try and blow itself
Dismay adorned to encrust destitution
Distractions paraded in devolved arrays
Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 2:39 AM UTC
Static enough to wane,
my iotas oscillate out
as the last
eye
shuts to dusk.
Dew through a pellucid mind
collected in what was my body's basin;
This whispering pool
contriving my new face.
Where countenance radiates concentrically
Up, up into the Ibis' spacial noise
coalescing Tefnut's will and mine
to ecstasy
as rain.
Nov 20, 2012
Nov 20, 2012 at 8:03 PM UTC