Poetry

My best project in the field of poetry is the development of a short story lipogram. A lipogram is a literary work that excludes the usage of a particular letter, in this case 'e'. This poem does not use the letter 'e', rhymes in couplets, and each line is exactly ten syllables:

In this town a man sighs with an old pain,
Of many things lost with nothing to gain.
Hours slowly pass; day grows into dark.
Now all goblins find a victim to cark.
As dainty as a flowing woman's gown,
Snow lands swiftly on ground, showing its frown.
At night it falls, changing into a cloak,
For fast action of a man by an oak,
Black from top to bottom and with a mask,
Void of black allying for any task.
Tonight to rob such a solo old man.
Climbing up a wall to purloin from Dan,
And quickly cutting glass without a sound
Clad in socks, this burglar lands on soft ground.
Not to loot cash nor diamonds is his goal,
But now his coming is to crush a soul.
Slipping through rooms for his victim to kill;
Dan, in placidity, is lying still.
With a draw of a crystal tool hangs gloom,
For burglar John robs a man to his tomb.

As his sin occurs, lightning pours from sky,
John's sapping has took too many a guy.
Foul actions now mar his spirit too far,
Wrathful God plans him for his scorn and scar.
As John slips out with his mission's work through,
Thousand spirits of dark wait for him too.
John mounts his ostrich and gallops away,
Riding forth quickly until light of day.
In far pursuit follows his coming doom,
From dawn onward, gray and ghostly clouds loom.
Atropos' minions swooping to claim him,
With blood and vigor, wanting to stain him.

On for an hour this caravan stalks,
Until now for John's ostrich slowly walks.
Looking back finds many goblins trailing,
With icy shadows to spur John's flailing.
At arm's grasp to slay his satanic soul,
Clammy mist drifts up from his waiting knoll.
John bolts from his bird, ducking his downfall,
Pining in vain for a crony to call.
Bars of light proclaim a judicious no,
Forcing John into dark, unholy tow.

Victory casts its lot among full moon,
For a rancid soul to lift away soon.
Its touch of uprising spirit taps John;
His rivals lack anything to fight on.
In a log is a sword from Lady Luck,
Soon all foul spirits turn away and duck,
Shouts of fighting crack crisp autumnal air,
For John plans to stay not in Satan's lair.
Such a conflict among gods hangs John's mind,
Odd coin swirling puts him in a vast bind.

Worldly tasks run amok by churning law,
Light fills in, its mission to void a flaw.
Goblins and minions vanish in a flash,
And John bolts away in a foolish dash.
Sixty chasms of lava split at ground,
John halts his approach and looks to go 'round,
Pillars of diamond shoot from Satan's pit,
His body now hangs, caught amidst a split.
Pluto summons to him, and down John falls,
Vanishing into caging Satan's walls.
Burglar John soon guiding minions to halt,
By no making than his own fatal fault.

Here are some other poems I wrote:

Oh I wish I was a tachyon,
To travel faster than light.
The joy I would experience,
With Einstein guiding my flight.
In a race I'd beat the protons,
And the neutrinos too,
But alas I am only theoretical,
So I'm meaningless to you!

From my throat a lump arose,
The enemy penetrated through my bones
Over the city wall I could tell
My death hung like a dagger in air.
At the walls of false protection,
Our sentries marched; liberated from fear.
Until the menacing beasts came near,
Their warlords triumphantly riding atop
The great tusks ruptured my piece of mind,
As the city wall fell into shambles.
Everyone I know is running in retreat,
But my horror leaves me stiff.
Reflected in my mind, the towering elephants charge forth
Shaking the world with every conquering step.
The foot soldiers march near; I feel no fear,
My mind washes out with no saving ark,
And the elephants trample upon my brain.

As I stood in the glowing sun rays,
I pondered the ancient days.
Thoughts of Greece, Egypt, and imperial Rome,
Why can't I have a Carthaginian home?
Or I could meet Caesar and talk,
Of rhetoric, poetry, and math,
Along the Appian Way I would walk,
And then use the aqueducts to take a bath!

The lion looked down on me with a mighty roar,
For I had hastily selected the incorrect door.
My life was ending before my eyes,
Oh why oh why did I make those lies?
The ruthless claws shred my skin,
Please notify my next-of-kin.
I ought to have listened more,
To friends who warned me while I swore
Blackness takes over as I lapse away,
But the sensible live to see another day.

In the lab I built a spherical glass ball,
With which to travel to the shopping mall.
I climbed inside and shut the hatch,
Forgetting completely to buckle the latch.
Some called me crazy, others labeled me mad,
But to shoot like a marble just made me glad.
The countdown began, the gunpowder placed,
I closed my eyes and my mind spaced,
Then off I flew in a flash of sparks,
Racing through the air with scorch marks.
Looming ahead was a red brick wall;
But I saw then I was not in a ball.
Rather a man with a long white coat
Was reading about a talking boat,
While they with clipboards looked on
At me huddled in my glass ball gone.

The trees hang over,
Sparkling with droplets of life,
But the branches bow in wet
To their master, the rainstorm.
They suffocate under the burden of shelter
Trunks erect to cry out in sadness,
Cries echo unheard.

A heavy sigh is in the air,
The storm is reflecting on its actions
Looming overhead the clouds linger;
Puppies unsure of their next move
Shadows fall on the asphalt of the world,
And yet the drops of life glisten on the blackness
It is the road of life,
Both sparkling with renewal and grime,
The dips flood under nature's torrent,
Forming the puddles which drown one's soul
It is a rainstorm,
The rainstorm of mankind.

Against a backdrop of war a lone nation sails,
Her ships trapped in two powers' tales
The waters of freedom evaporate away,
In the global chess game they play
One nation of conquest, the other of defense,
The whole war under great expense
Two dinosaurs locked into a fiery grip,
Crushing the spectators from this power trip

Our men are seized from their trading ships,
Forced into service by the feared whips
Ten thousand alone are decimated per year,
With no security to keep our merchants dear
Open to attack by the two dueling states,
It is time to throw open the gates!
The trumpets of warfare ride through the street,
Calling on commoners to rise to their feet
The growing eagle must fight for its catch,
Maritime rights we are obligated to fetch

The beacon of conflict flashes twice,
This new American fleet shall have to suffice
With Perry's eye for Jupiter's fate,
We soon shall always remember the date
But the straw casts up in a storm,
And no clear side has a winning form

Henceforth the bubbling stew,
Two more years until they flew
Our heavenly scales of men burn this time,
Yet the Phoenix resurrects to its prime
Repressed feelings faded into dark
The family of nations no longer bark
Peace for all and safe for sea
A nation drove forwards that leads to me.

Carpe diem;
Seize the day
Days begin alike, the sun fights for position across the sky
Illuminates, falls to the other side
Day over.
Nighttime now.
I am sixteen, a youthful age
One diluted with spontaneous decisions, reckless action
Not I.
The slender tree trunk spirals upwards to touch the sky
It is new, and does not know the best way
Curling with the confusion and the moving sunlight
Losing itself during night.

I am not the young tree that we are supposed to be
I lie in the desert
The company coyotes, barren shrubs.
I am the cactus, grizzled with age
Baked to a golden brown texture of attitude
I feel to be eighty years old,
My life perpetually ending.
Experiences blow past like tumbleweeds down
An abandoned road.
Unable to focus on the stretch ahead,
I envision the past, grip it tightly
To where the spines stick and catch in my throat
It pains me.
I am baked, before the oven has turned on.

What is love?
We feel it encompass us at inopportune time
Creeping in the omnipotent mind to its own unnerving rhyme.
Subject without substance, God's own will
A monster separate and united that never has its fill
Incapable of petty vernacular to flow the ebbs and tides,
We instead sit and ponder helpless without calming guides.
The romantics declare
The heart to be the leader of this circus fair
Debated by the scholars,
Their ivory fingers point
To scientific proof that can only disappoint.

I feel it rise inside me,
The lion semi-flower roars,
Cutting loose within, reactionary stores
Emotions flutter through the body,
Holy temple of the mind
Conflict stirs uneasily,
It's locked me in a bind

I love, I plot,
The mind strangles itself
Inside a bola knot.
Yes, I do -
I love with all my heart,
Whereabout, however, shall I ever start?
Answers tumble away,
Fleeting glimpses of a future day
Without the tranquility of existence,
Thus forms this soliloquy.
And while all will be well in love,
On this, I can no further dwell.