#decay poems on Hello Poetry

Jeremy Betts Jan 30

~•§•~ My Two Cents on My Two Cents ~•§•~

My thoughts
They can get scary
It's threats, more often than not, not empty
It's hard to convey what they say
They whisper a fray of cliche self hate with 41 years to work it's way to this level of decay
It's all consuming, engulfing then removing positivity 'til it's so scarce I'm left to pretend mostly
A sparse landscape of depravity naturally
Clear cut to make way for the fear factory
The soul fractures, now solely fear so to ward off lonely I let it stay
Not knowing how to play
Leaves me in the dark on what's at play

My thoughts
They aren't worth a penny
My two cents is free
I'd pay you to take them all completely
Is there a chance it gets messy?
Abso-freakin-lutely
But oh what a hero you could be
Imagine it up on a marquee, shining brightly
"Some dumb fuuck, a heros story"
(A family movie)
I'll be the monkey in the middle, come meet me
Come greet me and see purgatory, my state of temporary suffering and predetermined misery
What I'm forced to portray is only done cause I must obey or pay some ******* up penalty
Knowing I am the game and the prey, feeding a self-righteous gluttony
How much more do you want from me?
How much more must I contort for thee?

©2024

#thoughts #threats #empty #hard #convey #cliche #decay #forced #gluttony #portray

Ren Sturgis Dec 2023

Apocalypse

I feel like I'm withering away in decay as the world slowly crumbles around me
I'm not the only one
Others are fading too
Some faster some slower
It's not a race against each other but against time itself
How much time do I have left to be complete
I've never been the whole puzzle just random bits and pieces
What kind of vision could I create in this chaos
A collage of eternal suffering
Or an epiphany of everlasting utopia

#decay #race #time #puzzle #end

Zywa Oct 2023

[ Nothing goes to hell ]

Nothing goes to hell

with a big bang, it always --

happens with moaning.

Poem "owner's response" - 1651 statement from the Khoi-leader Autshumao, to Jan van Riebeeck (2011, Ronelda Kamfer)

Collection "Human excess"

#pain #decay

irinia Oct 2023

just to

we fall, we run, we chase, we hide
make plans and make believes
we force our roots to ignore the cycles of decay
we fill our bodies with rush and dismay
we love and we are ready to die all
the symbolic deaths that ignore the traffic lights
just to just to just to just to
avoid the unbearable pain of being alive

#life #pain #unbearable #decay #rush

Andreas Peter Sep 2023

Ember

Breath comes
Slow
and
Harsh
Through a filter of
Tar and
age
Comes faster, unbidden unbound un
invited
I stood, days of old and told myself
I
was. done.
Breathing, tar.
I guess
Tar, still holds an ember
In, my, chest.

Cigarettes to provide company at unrest

#smoke #habits #melancholy #growth #and #decay

Zywa Aug 2023

[ The underworld is ]

The underworld is

close at hand: ****, poo and junk --

slimy and rotting.

Poem "Besök i närmaste undre värld" ("Visit to the nearest underworld", 1982, Lars Gustafsson)

Collection "Specialities"

#decay #underworld

Carlo C Gomez Aug 2023

Zabriskie Point

sonic
bridge,
seismic
convulsions

a desert for us and them,
you can do many things with a blank canvas
--maelstroms, blaze dispersions

a line allows progress, a circle does not,
infiltrates the surface,
flashes into steam

our red cathedral,
our furnace lake,
the promised land in spiritual drought

this catatonic
heaven, a thirst for something more

#faith #doubt #morality #desert #decay #erosion #america #analogy

Zywa Jun 2023

[ It is super thin ]

It is super thin,

the gold leaf that will survive --

the iconoclasm.

Collection "Blown sand"

#time #eternity #decay

Zywa Jun 2023

[ Decaying leaves, wet ]

Decaying leaves, wet,

cold, and *****, but a bed --

for shiny chestnuts.

Collection "Different times"

#nature #plants #chestnut #decay #autumn

Zywa May 2023

Baltimore

Crippled, skinny gull
puddles in the potholes
of empty streets

holes in the walls
the school closed, no one
who could leave stayed

after the riots
no one who was released
from the cells

Losses have been taken
suitcases packed
the water shut off

Old town, dead harbour
where I was at home and would
have liked to come back

clean your white steps
turn on your lights, please
turn on, turn on again

Song "Baltimore" (1977, Randy Newman, album "Little Criminals", 1978 sung by Nina Simone)

Collection "Between where"

#decay #melancholy