#pandemonium
🅿eril dressed in silver sound,
🅰midst the calm, the screams rebound.
🅽othing stays all form decays,
🅳reams ignite in fractured haze.
🅴choes twist through hollow air,
🅼adness hums a sacred prayer.
🅾blivion’s choir begins to hum,
🅽ight and thunder beat the drum.
🅸n chaos’ heart, creation stirs,
🆄nder ashes, a new world blurs.
🅼ortal minds can’t name the fire only feel its silent choir.
Oct 27, 2025
Oct 27, 2025 at 6:52 AM UTC
~ for Rob Rutledge -
@ 6:15am
~~~~~
we all are living, reading and writing,
paycheck to paycheck
even if by happenstance, our bellies full,
for the white sheets we lay our words
down and upon, our supporters of
ids and egos of egg shell thin lifes
are the bare emptied shelves
of our unending, still ongoing
pandemic pandemonium,
razing times
of eroding joys
the sheets are blank, but our souls
wearied, helmed and whelmed
by the unending of the unexpected
that demands, orders and commands,
no matter what
pour it out blasting
unleashing the rage
compelled, compiled,
completely compulsing
we
selves ordered to compose
giving form and firmament
to our vaporous innards,
releasing new oxygen from
the tides inside and without,
clashing ideas, irregular notions
that demand we poets responsible
for reconciliation and auditing for
human truths
we awake barren but weighty,
the emotions are rustling in the
now daily, common,
mighty metors of gusts of higher winds,
spreading fire and measles to spite,
not despite
our fragile failings & flailings
oh goodness and grace,
let that be the colors of
our skin, our face,
essay on, sashay with a
swinging motion,
yes, rhyme and rhythm
and deliver us with words
so soft, they shatter the
gloomy desperation of
what confronts our entirety,
when the terrors of our
sleeping dreams cannot be
differentiated from the
sad eyed waking
ones
so write, and right,
these troubled times,
when trolls, dragons
and yet unnamed monsters
seek to take away our
tiny green planet, watered,
seeded and plentiful fruited
plains enough to satisfy us all
if we are so emboldened to choose
all of us over our lonely selfish selfs
Feb 25, 2025
Feb 25, 2025 at 6:31 AM UTC
My own Personal Playground of Persistent Pandemonium
Pisssing People off Passionately,
Playing more than just a Part in their Problem
Picking Particular Pieces to Pack this Prolific Poem
Pulling off a Perfectly Perceived Premise
Until your Placement becomes your Permissive Prison
Poetic justice, I've got a Poetic license,
Permitting Primitive Primate like Procedures
Possible only because Perplexed Principles Prematurely, albeit Permanently, Pick Pungent Practices
Primarily Planning Precarious Peril, Priming Painful Predicaments
Publishing Print on Paper
Pent-up Paranoia Pushing Profane Prophecies
Probably Protruding Past Popular Perception
Preventing Pint sized Pea brains from Polluting People who Ponder their Planetary Purpose instead of Perfection
Parallel Planes Pairing Probable Permissive Propaganda
Providing Precision on Par with Polaroid Picture Panorama
This Pricey Psyche showing Persistence Prevails
But can't Press Pause
So Please hear my Plea,
Pretty Please,
Permit me the Power to Permanently Purge the Piercing Pain
To Ponder no longer the Placated Pointlessness of the Puzzle and Put away Pandora's box
To Promptly Procure my Place beyond Purgatory
As Promised
©2024
Apr 4, 2024
Apr 4, 2024 at 2:20 PM UTC
By this time 2019 the onslaught had begun..
devastating attack on mankind not carried out by guns..
just a virus, tiny yet deadly ravaging the world..
not an equal monster in decades, Covid-19 it was called.
mysteriously crept into our world, inexplicable origin..
lurking around rails, trails and air just to gain entry..
wrecking down all systems immune, nervous and circulatory..
sniffles life out of victims at the early stages, men was scary.
left us so terrified in our towns and in our cities..
grounded and brought to a halt economic activities..
built up a partition of no solid material..
amongst us all, rich, poor and even the influential.
Once crowded streets in its wake were lonely and desserted..
nice playground activities and symposiums neglected..
for the dread of the global monsterous virus..
oh! no! never again we hope we beat the virus.
It took from us loved ones both promising and elderly..
frightening mode of operation, collapsing the lungs steadily..
trailing wails world all over from the healthcare facilities..
universal pandemonium, we were overwhelmed seemingly.
Emotionally traumatising was the unpleasant experience..
of watching its victims gasping in the midst of abundance..
I cried like many many others seeing a menace to existence..
and all we did was pray for return of peaceful ambience.
till date still place a limit on human interactions..
medical practitioners working their ***** off..
to get a cure for it although now there's vaccination..
was an era in human history, covid-19 what a distraction!
Jan 13, 2022
Jan 13, 2022 at 10:39 AM UTC
You chugged down a pint of stout
Reason running in and out
Your friends cheering you on
Until all reason is completely gone
In a moment of uncertainty
You poise the possibility
Of ordering another pint of that hilarity
You get another one and a shot
You feel your head spins and you're hot
You're being cheered on by your friend-squad
Reason's leaving, but you're not
The evening just began
And you feel a certain urge to dance
Then that concludes
You get the pint again
And the reason still eludes
Sep 13, 2019
Sep 13, 2019 at 8:36 AM UTC
“The words just won't come, but the feelings are all here
Misunderstood mind-monsters whispers and that's all I hear
My tears are on hold; it refuses to be shed,
The silence turns into pandemonium as soon as I lay down my head
Some elusive words are hidden within my tainted heart,
Drenched in blood; a beautiful art
The thought of ever uttering those words suffocates me,
Thus the mind-monsters echo the words repeatedly
Every day I wish to escape these memories,
But seems like all that escapes me is my sanity
I was forced to acknowledge the muse in my miseries,
The mind-monsters said it would be one less frailty
Now as you walk this staircase to my mind;
Seek my angels to convince these mind-monsters to be kind” ~ Demi.M Potts
Jun 30, 2018
Jun 30, 2018 at 5:28 AM UTC
Wow what a ride I'm on
Man how much time has gone
How could the tide so rapidly subside
Just after doin yet one more line
Wow is her body so fine
And the way we take flight
My o my, the girl gets me so high
The way it feels so right
The way we fit so tight
Its like the beginning of the end of time
Or that other life when I was a double spy
Like the way I felt as a little child
Life wide open so fresh and mysterious
Seems to me there's nothing to fear in bliss
She rolls a tear as we let go from the last kiss
The earth and its magnetism are on a major shift
As soon as the winters done, I'll b on a major kick
If I don't read anyone else's lyrics, I can avoid subconscious plagerism
If I start to regularly meditate, I'll be b free from cages within
**** I'll never give up participating in sum of my favorite sins
The heart has many ways to sew its many mends
Maybe its that I'm still just looking to win
Maybe I'll finally begin tapping fr within
So many things I wanna begin
Never thought I'd meet so many friends
I drop to my knees and pray I stay in the right way
I stayed in the light today
The fine art of playing
Just to play
Like the kid I was
Just yesterday
Feb 3, 2018
Feb 3, 2018 at 3:49 PM UTC
We're all new endings and beginnings,
raised as paramours to our rips and tears.
We swayed like Wordworth's Daffodils,
and we all cried out in the air.
We're faded pictures in an infinity
told to believe in the death of our lives.
But we were never taught how to live
in this world filled with beautiful lies.
So there was no foreground to build upon,
but we were given the chance to survive.
Even when we all can't dance to live,
we can make music to battle the anguished cries.
Nov 17, 2017
Nov 17, 2017 at 2:17 AM UTC
We are all so weak.
Soft. Tender. Transparent.
So easily scarred.
We take things. Break things.
Hurt people. Hurt those we love.
We swallow the shards of
fragmented words. We all hurt ourselves
when given the chance.
But it all wasn't for the attention.
It is the spiral to our breaking point.
But we are so weak.
Soft. Tender. Transparent.
So easily scarred.
We never seem to get enough.
Nov 11, 2017
Nov 11, 2017 at 8:19 AM UTC
Blood boils over the chalice
in an insurmountable quantity,
pouring straight through the cracks,
spilling on the concrete and it stays,
dried like the Sahara, waiting for it to be scraped
off into non-existence
But it's torment to stare,
to remember the flitting thoughts
that refrain the calm to get back
Adamant to get over our Achilles heel,
striking the bruised flesh over and over
on a wall in detriment of our anger
Persistent to stand still on its feet,
to knock us over and over again
A breathing torso, has a defended chest
Guards are held up around the beast
Confined in a cage that turns brittle to
the eternities that pass by, and it crumbles
We crumble.
It's torment to think about it and not
to let it in.
Sep 29, 2017
Sep 29, 2017 at 10:05 PM UTC
Pain shall not cease
That grips the soul
Barbed memories
Will always bleed
With touch
Serrated words
Slices through
All the intent
Comes to naught
Love transforms to dissent
And tenets become acerbic
Eroding peace
Suffering in silence
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 8:14 AM UTC
You're not a fallen angel in this
Pandemonium called life.
You're an outcast like the rest of us,
Trying to survive.
- Christina Rosa A.
Dec 23, 2014
Dec 23, 2014 at 4:34 PM UTC