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Timmy Shanti Jun 2012
Reason is there to explain,
Heart is there to perceive.
Souls are there to entwine,
Eyes are there to believe.

Nature is there to be loved,
Minds are there to be moved.
Sorrows are there to be drowned,
Fools are there to be spoofed.

All that we have is ourselves,
All that we cherish is dreams.
All that we trust is a lie,
All that we know is a myth.

Illusions are there to defy,
Light is there to embrace.
Evil is there to decry,
Karma is there to face.

1.11.2010
Erin-Taylor Mar 2013
A faceless entity,
coming to take you.
When you no longer are
destined to live,
he's summoned onto
your presence.
The chill of bones
reach out to grab you.
The fear you get when
looking into the depths
of scarlet colored eyes
on a faceless creature.
He means to take you with him.
No one can fight it.
Not even God.
For the Grimm Reaper
is a deity of his own.
A deity who is just as
powerful as God, but
controls the dead.
He laughs in the faces
of those who wish
to defy him.
A sickening
scrape sounds,
not like a laugh at all.
More like a scream.
So just make sure
you're prepared,
for when he comes for you...
You won't be able to fight it...
Death that is.
Sally A Bayan Aug 2019
Time spent traveling is time wisely spent,
hours are filled with enriching experiences
and soul-searching moments

my morning trip to San Diego was such...
my eyes feasted on a blue-green ocean,
with daring surfers atop cresting waves;
and then there were my fellow farers...

the atmosphere inside the Amtrak
was a mix of moods...of voices of folks...
silent ones slept the whole trip...several,
had coffee and bread, while reflecting...
some were already working ahead of time,
giving instructions via their mobile phones...
a few were smiling, taking life positively,
maybe, dwelling on pleasant memories;
others wore serious faces...in deep thought,
maybe thinking of love's and life's unfairness,
sad realities they leave behind each morning,
the same ones they go home to each night.

boarding a train is one chapter,
getting off is another.....the platform is
where situations end, or, a fresh start awaits:
new job, a family...finding one's self somewhere,
ending a relationship...moving on when a loved
one dies...drifters are ever, "just passing through,"
they go....wherever the train takes them...

trips are inward journeys...the hours open
and clear our minds, leaving realizations
and wiser perspectives over nagging issues
we shun...or, defy; we try to change what
can be changed in our lives...and accept
with peace...what...cannot be changed...

we are on a journey...we are farers all,
...........in this train...called life...


Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
July 5, 2019
Transcribe my sine wave,
     Rays like the sun.

Describe the unending normalcy.
   waves crashing: one too many.

Laser-focused against the (g)rain.
        Tsunami enraged.


Defiance is my resonant frequency,
      sorry to disappoint.

I am the way.
Daisy King Aug 2014
Telephone wires are tangled in the trees tonight
and the stars are copper colour,
as if scattered from a fountain
and Romeo is calling from beneath the balcony
of the Capulet family in Verona,
trying to get reception-

but the receiver is busy
moving on, and growing up-

Juliet, the girl he is calling, has a new phone
that she doesn't trust with unfamiliar numbers,
and his is listed 'unknown'

Unsent messages: "goodnight
"goodnight- parting is such sweet sorrow,
that I shall say good night till it be morrow."


The story of the star-cross'd lovers was no tragedy at is end.
Nobody died, nobody had to pretend
to die. They rarely think of one another now,
only from time to time do they wonder 'what if'
or regret the absence of a real goodbye.

Romeo never got the chance to defy the stars
Juliet never got the chance to contemplate him cut out in them
and neither of them got the chance to commit,
and neither of them took a chance with suicide.

Telephone wires in trees, copper stars-
-ghosts, wished on, shooting, burning far, far away-

Unspoken words: "some consequence
yet hanging in the stars,
auspicious stars"


(the fairest of them, he'd once found in her eyes)-
no reception, nothing received.
In this love story, nobody dies.

It is remembered as any other night before.
It was not long until where Romeo had come and gone
he'd left behind just a flicker of a frisson
in memory, growing distant,
gradual decay, and then
he was nothing more than threads to weave
the patchwork of a dream,-
hard to recall, a close call,
a near miss, a could-have been-
but it was harder, with time, to believe it was ever
the real love she yet knew nothing of
at the keen age of only thirteen.

It was Paris she fell for. The two were to marry
and for her bouquet that day, the flower she chose
to carry- for their romance and sweetness-
was the rose, and in her vows, she spoke of her love
being boundless and deep as the sea,
and infinite. All the wishes he'd made on stars
and coins in fountains had come to be.

Spoken words: "Have I thought long to see this morning's face..."

So many saved lives and one love lost and
a glooming sort of peace settled over
the star-cross'd streets of Verona.
Michael Amery Apr 2014
The lost drown and smoke your words away
Hidden behind layers of a self-induced fog too thick to be heaven’s curtains,
Yet too thin to be effective.

I hear your whispers
Soft melodies of melancholy
Ripple down my spine
More paralyzing
Yet akin
To a car wreck
Birthed by the same vaporous spirits I used to hide behind.

Now I choose clarity.
Mindfulness
The Buddha showed the way
Is it easy to follow a path first lit over two thousand years ago?
Ask me again tomorrow.
Today those whispers like tiny devil worms sneak along
My spine delivering emotions and thoughts
Not mine.
And I am lost
Helpless as they take my mind
And defuse my spirit
And giggle as I follow Rome
Once great, forgotten, found but never resurrected.

I defy you Voice inside my mind.
I see you
I hear your whispers and acknowledge
That I am not your author.

Be wary
Be mindful
Because I too whisper
Of a love stronger than your hate.
Carlyy May 2017
Let it be luck or fate
You and I became legends
Us against the world

With each battle,
Enemies came to fight
As allies made appearance

Wars are ongoing
But they hinder
From time to time

Young and optimistic,
We were not yet burdened,
With heavier dilemmas

We enjoyed our time
With each passing season,
Our dreams became bigger

We were the same
But different in pace
We became a comparison

No one warned us
That we could defy
One another

After our first few quarrels
We used the word "forever"
Often as we overcame obstacles

Like poison seeping in
Quarrel after quarrel,
"Forever" fell short of itself

There were more stories
Of us and our memories
Than memories being made

Maturity and experience
Changed everything
From our minds to physicalities

Sharp pain resides in my heart
Orignated from comparisons
I hated everything.

You recieved praise
And lost yourself in it
I lost my voice and will.

Mind tricks of my own doing
Distance flourished
As did I.

We were aware of ourselves
But we expected more too
We were no longer on the same page

Something crashed in us
It left marks and bruises
Left us broken and in pieces

Unsure of what was next
Our blades were drawn
Wounded each other with deceit

Haunted with hate,
You became headstrong
I took myself faraway

Time slowed down
The storm calmed
Everything softened

My sun grew confident again
Beaming from above,
Into what was left of me

The shadow casted
Showed me some truth
My mind cleared and spoke

Aren't we peers,
Or the least bit, equal?
When will you learn?

Look at me.
Who do you see,
If not someone found and free?

Words fled quickly
From my tired being
I justified myself for you (again)

You say you understood
But your skull and bones thick
With stubborn and pride.

Spiteful knives sharpened
By shared secrets and confessions
Tell me what part of me do you target

This new nature you claim
Doesn't not suit you well
But maybe the colors are true

It might be time
To take your turn
And make a realization

Patience is my life
All I have is time
But I'm growing

I am not the pity you see
When you look at me
I am beyond that
and so much more
I don't need anyone who doesn't need me.
oh my stars May 2015
Not falling in love
with someone who loves you
Is an impossibility
that we don't want
To even try to defy.
Izlecan Sep 2017
Which ground shall thine eternity crawl beneath?
With agony, thou cry, thou scream and thou sleep

Staggering over time, the extensions of gore
A morph possessed over the flags: cloistered around throat
An uttering of serene eons, of atrophy and of thaw;
A morass of hegemony, of identity and war
Withered from bullets,drained over the ground
A knock on the coffin of tommorrow and   the past
A chronology misplaced and outdone
And a synapse of presence smothered with the breath of dust

Which ground shall thine eternity crawl beneath?
With hope, thou bawl, thou shout, thou sleep

Chaotic commemoration ruptures over the streets
Splatters around an arcane, segregated country
Under the mud of enigma lies the rotten leaves of history
Away the tomorrow leans, restless and unknowingly
For it lies awake with the screams of a rifle, the screeching audibilty of ghostly  mutterings, the camaraderie caught on flesh, between the teeth of craved monarchy
For the tomorrow lies awake near the history.
For the past suffocates the vivacity
Yclept the peace, yclept the tranquility!

Which ground shall thine eternity crawl beneath?
With anger, thou yelp, thou break, thou sleep

A hymn of sigh deafens the petrifying serenity
A sigh outraged with the murmur of life
Seismic ephemerality tears the ground apart
Barges in, the present, whispers a cry
The tomorrow lies still over the chunks of calamity
Lulled to sleep with the kiss of presence,
With the screams of a distant enmity:
The burial of time that has been cloistered around the anonymity
The burial of the ceased, the past, as a euphemism
The burial of the existence, the present, as    a mayhem
The burial of the undone, the tomorrow, with a malediction
All three in the same grave, punching the timeless, imminent reality they delineated

Which ground shall thine eternity crawl beneath?
With silence, thou shatter, thou question, thou sleep

Down the ground quaffs the time
Of a city that no longer breathes
Out inundates the prayers of a dilemma
For a country is to cleave
Fidelity over a continuum, with faded prayers, shares a discourse
Befuddled with an antinomy, it asks itself, how an epitaph shall be wrought?
Down the ground swallows the confusion
Of a city that no longer cries
Now, which ground shall thine eternity crawl beneath?
To be overwhelmed by a plenitude of halves
In the name of peace, in the name of life!

Which ground shall I die beneath?
To lie awake with an eternal sleep
I no longer whisper over the divided streets
Not to awaken the past, not to revive the wounds and faded hymns
I breathe in the dust, devouring the ceased
For a divided city is to be kissed
Down I no longer hold an impulse to scream:
A gush of presence that arises a breeze
That of which billowing up the grave
Releasing a future for a road ahead
With hope, I bawl, I defy, I beg
Yclept the peace, in the name of solidarity!
Claire Spencer Jan 2011
I hit you so hard I quivered inside
But I was glad to see you were finally listening
Hearing at least what I felt you should be doing through
the sting of my touch
I watched the fear and betrayed look in your eyes
I had your attention
You would do as I said
Now

Why do you make me hit you
You know I care about and for you
Would lay my life on any line - train or moral
for your happiness and safety
would go any lengths dark and dangerous valleys
compromising myself as long as I knew you would be fine

You know that I love you
this is why you test me so
that set stubborn look in your eye
as you dare not speak or answer me back
I will not have such disrespect
not from you
not after all i have done and will do for you

You will not defy me in your tongue
for i will never understand
much less forgive you
and you will not last
very long without my favor
you will feel the pain of my letting you go
refusal to even look at you
long before i ever leave the room

so hear me, heed me, appreciate the fervor that i pursue
you for you
longing only for you acquiescence
plainly for your normal self
the sparkle and regard
as a fair response to my brand of discipline
Aspen Mar 2015
the woman in white will tell you
"you shouldn't be doing that" and
she'll give you a slap on your other
wrist as not to stain her gown and
you'll look at her and then at the
man in grey and he'll wink and tell
you it's okay and that she's not upset
and he'll encourage you to do it again
so you will because you don't know
why but you want to impress him and
defy her so you keep going and ignore
the woman and slowly pull away from
the man because you want to be on your
own now and then you're alone and you're
playing that risky game again but the blood's
coming out too fast this time and you can't
stop it on your own and you can't find
those old friends anywhere and you're
completely alone now and you know
it's your fault but you're still looking
for someone else to blame or help or
hold on to but this is it this is the ending
you thought for so long you wanted and
it's beautiful and it's ugly and you hate it
and you miss the slaps on the wrist because
she cared and you hate the wink and smile
because he made you this way but he didn't
because you did this and you're dizzy now
and everything's getting fuzzy and you
can't get up and she comes back not to
slap your wrist but to tell you to go home
with her and you do and it's peaceful
you're finally happy and that was all it took
Erwinism Sep 2024
Run
Run, run while you can;
while your toes can spring from the asphalt;
while time is on your side
and the wind is behind you,
and the world is a trail of blur.

The cartilage of your joints,
fresh and oleaginous,
pliable as your young mind,
can take you to your destiny;
can satiate wanderlust,
a bitter aftertaste for a time long gone
of a weary spirit
tenant to a rigid flesh.

Breathe
the scent of life in.
Let your lungs and air,
like lovers who have folded
the distance between them,
savor the embrace
throbbing in their minds at night.
Breathe the scent in,
in time,
they grow stale,
planted in water by the bedside
wilting with apologies
and well wishes
dancing to the music
of beeping machines.

Up the hills if you must;
through mist,
yielding not an inch
to questions
doubt pours on the road.
Against the unwillingness
of your body,
defy,
and when its defiance ripens
in its season,
your spirit shall burden
it a heavy swathe of obstinacy.
So run,
for the loan of time digs deep in the pocket to claim interest,
pay your heart in full,
before foreclosure.
Time inevitably demands its due.

—e.d. maramat | erwinism
Marci Mareburger Jun 2015
I try to drown my demons
but they know how to swim
I thought everything from hell burned
but I guess this can't be true
maybe it froze over
the day I left you
I may have a drinking problem
but from what I learned
in chemistry class
Alcohol is a solution.
with that being said...
why are my problems
unsolved mysteries?
Like the old television show
I guess it's because I killed
the only part of me
that made any sense:
You.

But it's hard to catch a criminal
after the first 48.
it's been a year.
So I'll never be caught
but I'll be the one
who carries the burden
like Atlas
with the world on my shoulders.
maybe I'll defy the gods
and hurl it into the Sun...
I guess
I've always wanted to watch the world burn.
You're as dead to me as I am to you.
LittleFreeBird Dec 2014
Mud beneath our feet
Stars above our head
Wearing nothing but rain slicked skin
And frosted breath
You
Cannot keep your hands off me
I
Cannot take my eyes off you
We
Are two planets
In rotation
And neither of us
Can defy gravity
Rafael Gonzaga Jul 2018
Queen of all the gods.
No one dare defy her word.
If by chance with her you are at odds
Prepare to feel the wrath you had incurred.

Ever faithful to one who is not
A polygamous husband to a monogamous wife
He might even leave her there to rot
Fortunately she is a goddess with eternal life.
Terry Collett Apr 2015
Without God we cannot and without us God will not, Sister Bonaventure, the Italian  said, in R.E  at the school, where Fay sat looking at the nun's plump features and a second chin that lay on the nun's wimple. Cannot what? a girl said from beside Fay, a thin girl whose hand was raised above her head. Others stared in Fay's direction as did the nun. What do you think it means, Gloria? the nun asked, her dark eyes peering at the girl. The girl shrugged her shoulders. Salvezza, the nun said, salvation. Fay took the word and tongued it in her mouth like a boiled sweet. Salvezza. The other girls in the class sat mute; some looked at each and smiled either out of indifference or bewilderment, but Fay sat straight-faced, the words in her mouth, both Italian and English. Salvation? A girl asked, pushing her luck, seeing the nun's features harden like cement on a hot day. To be saved, the nun said, saved from damnation. The girls all Catholic and bought up from the cradle knew this, but it was a hot day and they had lost interest as soon as Sister Bonaventure had entered the class with the ease of a hippo into a muddy swamp. But Fay took the words and packed them away inside her head to **** upon in her nightly hours when she failed to sleep. After school, walking along St George's Road, she saw Benedict standing by the subway waiting for her. He stood with hands in his pockets, his school tie untied, hanging loose, his shirt collar unbuttoned. She smiled when she saw him; her stomach did a somersault; her eyes moved over him like hawks seeking prey. He smiled like Elvis, which he had mastered by studying the photograph in the paper and had cut it out and sellotaped it to his wall. Didn't know you were going to meet me, Fay said, thought you said you were busy. Benedict smiled. Wanted to surprise you, he said. Did you run home from school to get here by this time? No, got the bus, he said. She touched his arm with her thin fingers, felt the cloth of his school blazer. He looked at her; took in her fair hair, straight, but pinned at the sides with hair slides; at her eyes that were as pure as silk; at her features that he wanted to capture in his mind so he could conjure up in bed at night when he found it hard to dream about her. She looked past him, making sure her father-who didn't like Benedict- wasn't around; making sure that her father wasn't amongst the crowd across the way or in a passing bus. They walked back towards the flats together, side by side, hands not touching, but close, near touching. She told him of her day at school, about the Italian nun and the words that she had captured that day in R.E lesson. Salvation? he said, taking the word and moving it around his head and mouth like a puzzle to be solved. Sounds like something you put on if you've got a sore spot, he said. She smiled. It means saving our souls from sin and the consequences of sin, she said. They walked down the subway side by side, the words echoing along the walls. He looked at her as they walked, his hand near touching hers. Sins? What are they when they're at home? he asked, probably knowing the answer, but wanting her to say. Violation of God's will, she said. Violating our relationship with God, she added. He allowed his knuckles to brush against hers gently, letting her words float about his ears. Violate God's will? He said. She nodded. Defy, God's will, she said. Mm-mm, Benedict said, got you. Whether he had or not, Fay had no idea, she sensed his knuckles brush against hers, gentle, soft, skin on skin. They came out into the late afternoon sunlight, on to the New Kent Road, passed the Trocadero cinema, their hands brushing close. Changing the subject, before Fay could venture further into the words, he said, do you anything about periods? She stopped by the entrance to the cinema and gazed at him. Periods of what? History? Geographical times of changes? She said. No idea, a boy at school was talking about it, said his big sister was having her periods and was a dragon when she was, Benedict said, gazing past, Fay, at the photographs in the framed areas inside the cinema walls. She blushed, looked at the photographs, too. How old are you, Benny? She said. Same as you, twelve, he replied, taking in the photo of a cowboy, at how the cowboy had his guns set in his holster. And you don't know? she said, shyly, looking at him, blushing. He tried to copy the cowboy's stance ready to draw his imaginary gun from imaginary holster. No idea, he said, looking at her briefly before gazing at another photo. What do you learn in biology? she asked. O usual ******* about plants and sunlight and butterflies and bees and so on, he said. About butterflies or birds, then? he said, taking in the cowboy's stance again. Yes, she said quickly, not wanting to elaborate further.  They walked on passed the cinema and the used car area and walked over the bomb site towards Meadow Row. So what's the connection between this kid's sister and ****** birds or butterflies and periods? Benedict asked. She shrugged and smiled. Ask your mum, she said, she might know. He smiled, leaned down, picked up a few stones from the bomb site for ammunition for his catapult later, guess so, he added, taking in her blushing features. They paused half way across the bomb site and stared at the the coal wharf where a few stragglers of coal men loaded up the lorries and wagons again for last bit of business. He wanted to kiss her, but didn't want to take the liberty of just plunging his lips on her cheek as he'd seen them do in the cowboy films. She watched the coal men at work. She sensed him beside her, his closeness, his hand brushing against hers, skin on skin, flesh touching flesh, but she didn't want her father to see her touching Benedict's hand, because he'd go mad at her. I  want you to focus on your school work and what the nuns tell you about matters, not gallivanting with the likes of him, he said last time he saw her with Benedict, even though they lived in the same blocks of flats, he downstairs and she upstairs. Likes of him? What did that mean? She mused, looking away from the coal men and taking in Benedict beside her. God knows what her father would say if she kissed Benedict and he saw them. A few years ago he would have spanked her, but nowadays he just threatens her with it. Benedict turned and looked at her. Are you coming to the cinema for Saturday's matinee? Don't know; depends, she said. Depends on what? he asked. My dad and what he's up to and if he'll let me, she said. She paused, looked past Benedict to see if her father might be around. What's wrong with Saturday matinee? Benedict asked. She looked at him. Daddy thinks it's sinful to stare at those kind of films, although he did take us to see the Ten Commandments with Yul Bryner and Charlton Heston  a few years ago, she said. But you've been with me before, Benedict said. I know but only if Daddy's away on business or is away on religious retreat. Benedict raised his eyebrows and pulled a face and pouted his lips. She smiled. See what I can do, she said, looking over at Meadow Row making sure her father wasn't in sight. He wanted to kiss her, but didn't want just to plunge at her as he'd seen them do at the cinema, but what to do? She gazed at him, her body tingling for reasons she couldn't fathom. Best get home I suppose, she said, in case Daddy's there wondering where I've got to. They walked on across the bomb site slowly. Could I? He asked, pausing by the wall of  bombed out house. Could you what? Fay asked. Benedict looked at her. Kiss your cheek? She blushed and looked around her then back at Benedict. Why would you want to kiss my cheek? She asked. I've seen cowboys do it to women in films I just wondered what it was like, he said. Is that all? she said. All what? He said. That reason? She said. No, he said, looking past at the coal wharf, I like you a lot, wanted to show you how by kissing you. She felt out on a limb, beyond her comfort zone, yet something about it seemed satisfying, the gesture, the idea, the reason he wanted to kiss at all. She knew she was blushing, knew that her body was reacting in away unknown to her before. She looked across at Meadow Row, at the people passing over the way. Do I dare? She asked herself. What if Daddy sees? Not here, she said, maybe on the staircase of the flats if no one is around. He nodded, looked at her, touched her right hand, warm, silky soft. He wasn't sure of himself as he usually was; felt as if he were in bandit country and bad cowboys were at large. They walked on down Meadow Row, passed the public house with doors open and the smell of beer and a piano playing out of tune, passed houses and the crossed over by the corner leading into Rockingham Street. Their hands were apart from each other just in case. Her father in her case and other boys seeing, in his case, thinking he was breaking the schoolboy code into cissiness. They walked up the ***** and into the Square and walked towards the block of flats where they lived. She talked about Sister Bonaventure and sin and he talked about the boy's sister's period problem whatever it was. Half way up the second staircase landing they paused. Now? He asked. She looked up the stairs then down. Ok, she said softly. He kissed her cheek, damp, soft. She looked at him, then for reasons she didn't know she drew him to her and kissed his lips, then let him go. What happened to her or him they didn't understand just felt the inner glow.
A BOY AND GIRL IN LONDON IN 1960 AND A KISS.
Cliff Green Nov 2017
A large and ponderous, flightless bird
Was what I pictured of ‘ennui’
When first I read that warning word

In retrospect it’s less absurd
That self - created lethargy
Is like a ponderous, flightless bird

Boredom’s not a dream deferred                                
It is a state that you must flee
Be thankful for that warning word

One mustn’t let repose begird
Your ***** life, or else you’ll be
Much like a  ponderous, flightless bird

Get out, and farther, from the herd
And risk the dangers to be free
Go boldly and defy that word    

The choice is yours, you’ve no doubt heard
Part warning, yet therein a plea
To banish ponderous, flightless birds
Let action be  your favorite word
Reneeza Jan 2014
Have you ever felt like the world is against you?
And no matter how determined you are and
How much you persevere, you find it to be true.
They say twice as much isn't twice as good
And quantity is always going to be inferior to quality
But you people aren't even beginning to see.
You aren't seeing how twisted this world is becoming.
You couldn't care any less than you do right now.
Just humming, doing what you do, walking around.
And the sound of bitter lies seep through the mouths of these beings.
They supposedly call themselves righteous and full of wisdom.
But the world is yet to see your true colors.

The pattern is continuous and so repetitive.
It's a cycle, a sequence, a pattern.
They all know what's right yet they wander down the path of darkness
Following the dark one to his tavern
Who am I? I'm not that different except in one way.
Realization can take its toll on someone.
It's the point when you decide if you want to leave or you'd rather stay.

Have you ever felt like you can defy gravity?
Have you ever felt so invincible that no one could possibly ever touch you?
I have and that's the feeling that causes you to fall back really hard,
For it lasts for only a moment, a moment of power. And that's nothing new to you.
Look around and you shall see all the failures and successes of them.
Look at yourself and see how much more unique you are.
Refuse to let them utter complete nonsense in your ears.
Someone will come along and prove them wrong and make you their star.
The star of the universe, of his universe. And you shall see…
That's the only place you'd rather be.
But until then, do not close doors just because you are afraid
Open them and embrace the world as if it were your last day living.
Do it for yourself because all the while you could have left, but instead, you stayed.
In particular evinces of comparable obliviousness

To implications of extraneous misunderstandings

That bring a melancholy of limited constrictions

Makes one articulate anxiety in dazzling reform

Of vibrant linguistic experimentation  of lawless incongruity

Resulting in rhetorical pyrotechnics that defy inflections

And a wild farrago of tongues that boast a fecundity of speech
Brett Palmero Jun 2016
Blue was the sky above
The wind, warm and gentle
Clouds white in flight like a dove
A day to feel sentimental
There is a sudden, shocked outcry
Black rainbow across the sky

After the rain there should be colour
From the sun’s awakening light
But the sky turns red, beginning to suffer
An arch of darkness caused this blight
Clouds fade away, no longer to fly
Black rainbow across the sky

The onlookers can't look away
Raptured by the darkness that has spread
Despite their fear and dismay
They continue to look at the rainbow, dead
A grim scene plays out above on high
Black rainbow across the sky

The day they all wanted and waited for
Has disappeared before their eyes
The arch above them, out like a sore
Reaches end to end, it no longer tries
To spread out more and continue to dye
Black rainbow across the sky

Now stands two pillars of black
And a red sky for all to see
But nothing else came from the attack
The day was normal, over was the spree
But people were still mad, wanting to cry
Black rainbow across the sky

Really nothing was wrong at all
It was a simple change of scenery
But people can't handle change, big or small
They hated the idea of a kink in their machinery
It's hard to be yourself, to think, and to defy
To be the black rainbow across the sky
Julie Grenness May 2016
This house of hyperbole,
Does defy credulity,
Let's all exaggerate,
Aim to manipulate,
"I shall love you infinitely!"
Sounds a normal hyperbole,
"I never got over you!"
Am  I am a drama mama too?
You want me and need me,
But you don't love me,
Is that called two out of three?
Or more hyperbole?
Why answer such questions?
I'm always open to your suggestions,
As usual for you and me,
In this house of hyperbole........
FEEDBACK WELCOME!
I keep a smile in my heart.

To stand firm when the ground beneath is shaken by crooked smiles in heavens robes.

I keep a smile to continue singing a sweet lullaby to fear and despair in the hope that soon my own dreams will awake and stop counting sheep.

I keep a smile in my heart.

For you dear child in your desperate hour clinging on to life, defy death with each breath you take.

It is for you over there who love would not love I keep a smile for and to you I say, “first let your own love grow from within your own existence and let it flourish from the wells of your good nature. Only then will the world acknowledge the invitation to come drink from your cup.”

Fear not what mirrors reflect, instead keep a smile in your heart and grasp the fact that as much as summer needs winter, angels too need demons.

I keep a smile and tip toe around caution, dancing between the margin separating illusions from reality.

I keep a smile in my heart,
and maybe one day it will break out in laughter…
Redshift Feb 2013
say you love me
do it!
quickly
before we forget.
stop delaying
i know you are!
just say it.
i know it's hard
we're far
apart
but our love...
it's stretchy.
it could reach...
a big ole rubber band
across the sky
sort of like a rainbow
only not as pretty.

if you're just playing around with me,
stop.
i'm not a wind up toy
if you drop me
you'll hurt me
stop.

sky,
if you love me
tell me.
so we can stop pretending
we don't know what's going on
it's not just physics
it's not just chemistry
it's gravity.
Verdant Quo Nov 2018
With iron in our blood and water in our eyes
It’s hard to explain why death we cannot defy

Because the metal that’s made us is just rearranged dirt and dust
As we as a society are ****** forward by scientific wanderlust

Perpetual drive to figure out what is human while forgetting to be a person
But the human condition worsens as we evolve to a certain urban version

A claimed advanced people with brain and brawns for power
It becomes easy to forget nature’s showers; the trees and flowers

Never forget your origins. Never forget where you come from
The Earth that made you isn't just a drum for you to beat with your thumb

With iron in our blood and water in our eyes
We lose our elemental touch as the world continues to cry
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
Snorers all
scattered world-wide
in offices and homes
in boardrooms
and bedrooms;
O Snorers all
loud and clear
low and shrill -
listen ye
to the loud wake-up call
as from Rip Van Winkle's Snore

stand up united
and drown the howl of protests
against snoring that is surely no less divine
than the Chorus of Angels in Heaven -
for the great God who made the Aurora
no doubt also conceived of the Divine Snore!


and so, stand up, ye sonorous Snorers!
unite! I call unto ye!
unite against the detractors
and the critics
and the complainants
and those of low culture
who cannot
lie still and listen to Snoring
as one rightly would at a concert hall
listening to the delightful play
of a quartet of violins


O how long will you take it lying down,
ye blessed Snorers of the World?
let the world know
the first divine music was indeed the Snore;
and the very height of human communication
is the unabashed snore
for all other modes of communication
lead to mis-communication
but the language of the snore is always exact and crisp!
the message of the Snore always precise!
the meaning always loud and clear!
and the very height of the snore
(let us declare to the world)
is the couple in bed
snoring away together
beside each other
making such divine music
making love with the rolling thunder of snores
so that one might say:
do we have a couple of wild boars
copulating in the next room?




stand up, O Snorers of the World -
and defy the mockers
and those who seek divorce
on grounds of insufferable Snoring;
stand up against those who sue
for loss of sleep from
friendly, neighborly Snorers;
stand up now
against these losers, these whingeing nags
uncouth and untutored
in the mysteries of the art of the Snore!
stand up and with one loud blast of
a universal Snore,
with one melodious Snore
let us
drown their dissenting voices,
their unprovoked cacophonous complaints!
stand up, Snorers young and old!
unite, Snorers black, white and gold!
defy the world! O ye Snorers
of quite nights and of lazy days:
let us overwhelm the world
with the pleasing symphony of Snores;
let us bless the ears of the world
with the dulcet streams of varied notes and arias!
stand up! unite! - O much-maligned Snorers of the World!
with one voice raised
in a triumphant Snore
let us declare:
*No longer will we be silent!
Our voices will be heard!
Now that I have cooled to you
Let there be gold of tarnished masonry,
Temples soothed by the sun to ruin
That sleep utterly.
Give me hand for the dances,
Ripples at Philae, in and out,
And lips, my Lesbian,
Wall flowers that once were flame.

Your hair is my Carthage
And my arms the bow,
And our words arrows
To shoot the stars
Who from that misty sea
Swarm to destroy us.

But you there beside me—
Oh, how shall I defy you,
Who wound me in the night
With ******* shining
Like Venus and like Mars?
The night that is shouting Jason
When the loud eaves rattle
As with waves above me
Blue at the prow of my desire.
Hayleigh Jan 2015
Every day
We fall further in love with
One another
We defy
The laws of physics
Some more.
jake aller Apr 2020
Friday April 10


Walking in Limbo

a man finds himself alone
in a dark forest
filled with strange trees
and hears voices
in the wind

he walks forward
towards a light
in the forest

and soon finds himself
confronted by a ghostly image
the dead are all around
and he realizes
that he has died

and he is wandering
in limbo
he walks towards the light

and sees a man
at a desk
who asks his name

he says his name
and the man
smiles and tells him
welcome to limbo

join the others
to wait your turn
for judgement is due

and the man
walks back
through the haunted forest

trying to remember how he died
but he has no memory
of his past life

and is doomed
to wander in limbo
stuck between time
and worlds

comforted by the ghosts
around him
and the light
in the forest

writers digest prompt to write an ekphrastic  Poem




New Bodies in New Era

we are living
in a SF world
things are changing
at breath taking speeds

nowhere more
than with the coming biomedical revolution
soon we will be confronted
with the reality

that we can live forever
in new bodies
grown for us
in laboratories

with our memories intact
and I can hardly wait
want to throw off
this aging 65-year old body

and get a new 20-old perfect body
boy, I can’t wait

I would be come
what I always wanted to be

6 foot 6 inches tall
perfect athletic basketball body

perfect visions
perfect hearing
perfect smelling
perfect teeth



well behave hair
no more learning disability
no more coordination problems

no more fibromyalgia
no more arthritis either
no more aching aging pain
no more mental fog

god,
I can hardly wait
hope it happens
before I die

and I hope
I can live
on forever
with my wife

also transformed
into a perfect
**** as hell
new body

poetry soup prompt to write a poem about changes

life interrupted by corona


we live in a strange world
life interrupted by corona
the virus spread throughout the world
disrupting everything

putting life on hold
as more people
hunkered down
waiting for the virus

to pass over us
like in biblical times
the virus
will test us all

life interrupted
on hold
until the virus
spreads through the world

and then
we will all
go back
to life interrupted

writing.com Daily Dew Drop interruption


Saudade for friends I have lost

as I get older
I lose more people
every year

more people I knew
have died moving on
and I mourn their lost friendship

wished I had been
a better friend for them
and knew them better

and with the corona virus
spreading around the world
I will lose so many more

in the coming year
as the virus spreads
its malignancy far and wide

I lost my father due to cancer in 1985
and my sister
due to a freak illness in 2007

and my mother
due to Alzheimer’s in 2005
and my father-in-law as well in 2007

Demel Tucker
high school debate teammate
dead of *** in 1995

Julian Bartley and his son
died in a terrorist bombing
in Nairobi in 1998

Jon Weber college roommate
dead due to prostate cancer
in 2000

Paul Simon  friend from the visa line
dropped dead of a heart attack
in 2004

Ted Halstead
one of my best bosses
died of heart attack in 2007

Chris Richard
one of my former bosses
from my days in Bangkok

dropped dead of a heart attack
shortly before we were due
to have lunch in 2014


and so many others
I have lost
along the way

and soon there will be
so many more
as I get old in the corona era




my lover’s body inspires me

my lover
Lover’s face
inspires me

Filled ****
as hell
still got it

drives me
wild desires
tonight

concrete poem - national poetry month prompt day 9


Vogan Poetry inspires us all

Couth super- of  the world
trailer, stringendo travels afar
Rent center bank me bark me
recipe, stringendo.for sure for sure

National poetry month prompt  day eight Vogan Bot Poetry


The end of the world news depresses me

the end of the world new
depresses me
makes me want to shout and scream

**** leave me alone
to deal with my grief
amid the death and destruction

watching CNNMSNBCFOXBBC media nonstop
filled with essential dread
the end of the world is upon us

from the screaming news media
spreading forth across the land
fake news screams the president

all is alright he proclaims
no one believes his 16,000 lies
and so it goes

we are drowning with information
coming at us so fast
and furious

When will it end my friend
is anyone’s guess
in the long run we are dead

National poetry Month Day Seven poem inspired by the news


the Devil speaks In the Garden of Earthly Delights

in the garden of earthly delights
the devil makes a covert appearance
disguised as always

he wanders about the world
corrupting everything
with his evil foul deeds

the devil turns to me
and says welcome to my world
human

you will soon be mine
death and destruction
revenge is mine

you will all die
i decree it
and he laughs

and continues to corrupt
the garden of Eden
and earthly delights


ekphrastic garden of earthly delights national poetry month prompt day 6

president trump haunts my Dream

president Trump
haunts my dreams
daily dystopian nightmares
as he daily proclaims
the end to the republic

as he ushers in fascism
with his every lie
he corrupts the world
and I hate
seeing his bloated fat ugly body

that haunts my every dream
as I watch him  rant and rage
against my old friends,
his enemies in the deep state
ushering in chaos and destruction


National Poetry Month day four prompt image from a dream



ten words random rhymes

every day I see our president
Trump proclaims that he will be president
his image haunts my dreams
dystopian nightmares propels my dreams
as the president proclaims he is president
the end of republic follows
no one hears our screams
He ushers in endless dreams
fascism inspires
our collective screams

national poetry month Day three prompt  write a poem based on ten random words


674 Santa Rosa

my childhood home
for almost 10 years
was 674 Santa Rosa
Berkeley California

A five bedroom
adobe California home
on the side of a hill
at the bottom of the Berkeley hills

you entered on the top floor
across the street you entered
on the bottom floor
thus it was in the Berkeley Hills

the house
had a large deck
with a perfect view
of the golden gate

we used
to sit outside
watching the sunset
as we ate dinner

my Mom and Dad
would have
their nightly cocktails
on the deck

before retreating inside
to continue
their nightly fights
and arguments

I grew up
downstairs
hearing their constant words
of hatred, dismay and outrage

my parents were the proverbial
odd couple
perhaps
never should have married

but despite the hate
there was still some love
that kept them together
throughout the years

we had a rec room
with a pool table
and I hung out there
with my friends

my mother tolerated my friends
most of the time
she would be somewhat sober
until after they left

and the madness came
over her
as she drank her whisky
and wine

the basement room
was added later
was my younger brother’s room
later was my room

whenever I visited
from college days
hiding out downstairs
avoiding my mad mother

my old room lay abandoned
filled with books
thousands of books
that I had read over the years

when she died
I should have taken
all the books
instead I took

about one hundred
just no space
for the books
of my childhood memories

National Poetry month day two prompt specific place poem 674 Santa Rosa Berkeley California


My life appears to a dream


For I dream
of meeting
the love of my life

in a dream
she haunted my dreams
for eight years

she walked out of my dreams
into my life
and became my wife

yes my life
resembles a fairy tale
complete with a princess

that rescued me
with her undying love
and made my life complete

national Poetry Month Day One Prompt Metaphor for Life Dreamer




Trump Derangement Syndrome Blues

Trump haunts my nightmares
dystopian visions
soon to come true

fan story 15 syllable poem contest

Saturday April 11

To My Dream Woman Who Loves Me

to my dream woman
who has loved me so
over the years
since I first dreamt
of meeting her
thank you for finding me
and rescuing me
I just have three words
to say
I love you
Saran hae
and  in a million other languages
and will love you
until the end of time

writers digest prompt to write a x  Blank  x

BLACK OUT POEM

Black out Poem
God’s Punishment

Original text


During a press briefing today to address the nation’s response to the coronavirus pandemic, President Trump was asked about certain Christian pastors who plan to defy state lockdown orders and hold Easter church services this Sunday.
“I’ve had talks with the pastors, and most of the pastors agree … that they are better off doing what they are doing, which is, distancing,” Trump said, adding that the pastors want to “get back to church so badly.”
Report Advertisement
Trump then referred to a notorious pastor who sits on his religious advisory council.
Defend democracy. Click to invest in courageous progressive journalism today.
“I’m going to be watching Pastor Robert Jeffress, who’s been a great guy,” Trump said. “He’s a great guy and I’m going to be watching on a laptop.”

Jeffress is known for his litany of statements demonizing the LGBT community, abortion, and secular people. One of his most reviled comments came in 2015 when he said the 9/11 attacks were God’s punishment on America for abortion.
“People ask me all the time,” Jeffress said during a speech at Liberty University. “‘Well, I just don’t understand why God wouldn’t protect our nation and he would allow these radical Muslims in 2001 to **** 3,000 of our citizens and why God doesn’t protect us. Surely, God doesn’t use pagans to bring judgment upon his own people, does he?’”


“I’ve had talks with the pastors, and most of the pastors agree … that they are better off doing what they are doing, which is, distancing,” Trump said, adding that the pastors want to “get back to church so badly.”
Report Advertisement
Trump then referred to a notorious pastor who sits on his religious advisory council.
Defend democracy. Click to invest in courageous progressive journalism today.
“I’m going to be watching Pastor Robert Jeffress, who’s been a great guy,” Trump said. “He’s a great guy and I’m going to be watching on a laptop.”


Jeffress is known for his litany of statements demonizing the LGBT community, abortion, and secular people. One of his most reviled comments came in 2015 when he said the 9/11 attacks were God’s punishment on America for abortion.
“People ask me all the time,” Jeffress said during a speech at Liberty University. “‘Well, I just don’t understand why God wouldn’t protect our nation and he would allow these radical Muslims in 2001 to **** 3,000 of our citizens and why God doesn’t protect us. Surely, God doesn’t use pagans to bring judgment upon his own people, does he?’”

Black out text

the coronavirus pandemic, President Trump
hold Easter church services this Sunday.
“I’ve had talks with the pastors, get back to church so badly.”

“He’s a great guy and I’m going to be watching on a laptop.”

he 9/11 attacks were God’s punishment on America for abortion.
“People ask me all the time,” ‘Well, I just don’t understand why God wouldn’t protect our nation and he would allow these radical Muslims in 2001 to **** 3,000 of our citizens and why God doesn’t protect us. Surely, God doesn’t use pagans to bring judgment upon his own people, does he?’”

Poem

Corona Pandemic is Not’s God’s Punishment



Amid  the coronavirus pandemic,
President Trump
Attended virtual Easter church services
I’ve had talks with the pastors,
We need to get back
to church so badly.”

Rev Jeffries is  a great guy
I’m going to be watching on a laptop.”

Rev Jeffries said

The 9/11 attacks were God’s punishment

on America for abortion.

“People ask me all the time,”
‘Well, I just don’t understand
why God wouldn’t protect our nation
and he would allow these radical Muslims in 2001
to **** 3,000 of our citizens
and why God doesn’t protect us.

Surely, God doesn’t use pagans
to bring judgment
upon his own people,
does he?’”

I am sad to report

Rev Jeffries

I spoke to God

This morning

He confirmed

He did not cause 9-11

To bring judgement

On the US

For abortion

He went on to say

The corona virus

Is beyond his control

And he is not sending it

To punish the US

Or the world

His final words

Please tell Rev Jeffries

To simply ****

poetry super highway black out poem

coffee Whitney

my coffee
morning delight
all day long
not though at night
can not sleep
afternoon coffee
leads to nightmares lasts all night


writing.com Whitney poem form
  
coffee Hay Na Ku


hot
coffee
in morning

ice
coffee
afternoon

Drink
coffee
afternoon

will
soon have
bad nightmares

must
have my
coffee now

drink
coffee
all day long

no
way sleep
will come me

curse
of my
mad coffee

writing.com prompt write a Hay Na Ku Poem
Daily Dew Drop In submissions as well



women playing the lute contemplating God

a woman sits
by herself playing the lute

deep in contemplation
thinking of God's love
for her

thinking of the devil
and his temptations
she continues playing the lute

all poetry contest
various poems april 10 and april 11
Anna Lo Nov 2011
It is a fragment floating in the wind, compelled by the magnanimous winds to move in it's spontaneous fashion. Tossed side to side, up and down, forwards and backwards, it's moving so fast it is blurry. Then, as the playful winds stop for a second, it falls.
Falling. On the ground, it lies. I see it and see a piece of trash, huddled up in the corner with the bazillions of crunchy wrinkle textured brown leaves--withering away in decay. Dead. No longer anything to anyone, not even me. Nothing.
I suppose that's the way it's supposed to be.
But the wind--by god, the winds and their shifting moods--gushes back. Shaking the darling buds of May, it roars once more--picking the trash and flinging it in a motion once more. Filing in it's vapid cavity, edifying it with it's passions, pulling it back once more to defy gravity. Pure beauty drawing in, ******* out, taking, giving. Dancing.
Tossed. Up. Down. Left. Right. Around.

Anywhere.
I suppose that's the way it's supposed to be.
I leave it twisting in the wind.
B Beckwith Aug 2013
You're risking naught, an annihilation of worth
Wasting and encouraging moments to rot. Decay.

Values friendship
Twisted morals dipped in deceit.
Not satisfied with boundaries

Chasing infected affection
swirling in the smooth crevasses of backwash around emptied wine bottles
Impressionable, emitting the most tenacious
of the F word
Fake

Fake and Selfish
It isn't narcissism when you drown yourself
in the pits

No permission, no inhibition
As lazy as the Greeks
who never made a move to climb the mountaintop
and defy their Gods face to face

Dependent and ******* support from Clans
because you're terrified of this world
At least I"m honest with my decanter of
harming thoughts.

obsessed and overbearing, flesh crawling
use my being as subject matter and
mold it into paperdoll play toys

like gold eye-liner
its a party trick
seek solice when grimacing down a bottle of brew

bumpers in the bowling alley
a Life Alert sort of living
You claim to haven no fear
but I see your throat clench

start living
admit the defeat
a proud coward
lilly livered, yellow belly
shift
shift between a fable and nerve
traitor
Dreams of Sepia May 2015
Look, if it helps
scrawl ‘ I love you’
all over the school toilets
Use braille
to defy the government
Angels aren’t made
In barracks
War is the price
we pay for ignorance
& the last time I checked
all the tickets
to that movie you wanted to see
were sold out
so lets *** text through the night
write our own apocalypse
fishing for compliments
strung out on neon lights
& don’t forget to smile
for the camera
Jacobe Loman Aug 2016
Tap into darkness.
Become its champion.
Sanction the power.
Defy reality.
Posture proud.

Smoke the vapor.
Breathe with confidence.
Flex your fingers.
Grow callouses.
Become a man.

Tie loose ends.
Ignite romantics.
Paint pictures of girls.
Trip over love.
Weep tears of jealousy.

Put in hours.
Enjoy a hobby.
Kindred a spirit.
Love unconsciously.
Seek purpose.

Right all wrongs.
Study the anti-hero.
Learn existentialism.
Ignore God.
Enlightenment is key.

Rest well.
Burdens come and go.
Sanctuary is what you make it.
Knotted fingers unravel.
Time is cruel; lovely.
Grow proud.
Awaken.

— The End —