"deluged" poems
*She creeps quietly
into the dim lights of the city
inundating gentle delicate thoughts
into a deluged gray haze,
lingering vacantly in fragile minds,
and drifts over towns like an overcast of curtains
like a nebulous blanket
for she leaves with an air of mystery
on little silent cat feet*
Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 6:23 AM UTC
The absence of relief deluged my existence,
My hands trembled with a fear of defeat
And with my legs about to give away,
I stood there, trying to fix my broken pieces.
My bones felt like cracked crayons about to shatter,
into infinite irreparable fragments.
Stillness, silence, loss and sadness,
Strengthened the demons residing in my mind.
Yet I tried to fade the reality
with flashes of soothing memories.
Hoping, that the lost silvery rays of my past,
would overpower the dark entities residing within me.
Although I knew quite well,
they were feeding on the darkness I myself created.
Now I was nearing my end,
Like the moth nearing the alight candle.
Happiness, contentment, love,
And every little soothing emotion
was lost in the silhouette created by the dark entities who claimed my mind their home.
Adding to their darkness were the shadows of eerie disappointment.
All relief was now hidden in some unreachable fraction,
of the dark labyrinth my mind now was.
I was deluged in insecurities,
finally accepting my worthlessness.
Yet a latent emotion called hope,
still managed to swim in the dark waters
of the abysmal pit of despondency
which was engulfing my mind like a black hole.
I moved my fragile body and tried to stand.
And with the little strength that was left,
I tried to calm the demons residing in me,
like a mother trying to calm her weeping infant with a soothing lullaby.
I succeeded for a silvery moment,
but the momentary relief was lost again.
Alas! I knew they were now awake for eternity.
Then finally, defeated and hopeless,
I shattered like a house of cards forever.
Aug 15, 2014
Aug 15, 2014 at 11:13 AM UTC
i.
mist in solemnity
mutes the sounding
leather bells in silence
ii.
salt surges waste wantonly
gulls guttural in guises
of waifs
iii.
driftwood delivered dull of
deluged dilution
ochre offering to dune's
divestment
iii.
sea glass shivers into
shallow sandy pockets
scintillating color schemes
iiii.
conches lie abandoned
in stands of sea grasses
cacophonous quiet
v.
i am wide awake yet dreaming
sleepwalking
into the
waves
SoulSurvivor
(C) 2/1/2016
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 8:08 AM UTC
i stood pensive
near the sparkling water’s edge
where nature drowns out
the madness of humanity
staring at the rising sun
i’m deluged
in ephipany
peace rests
only in the place
where i know nothing
©2016janetaylor
Oct 25, 2016
Oct 25, 2016 at 10:45 AM UTC
I am at a crescendo of this mercurially
fervent woe, maimed by the visage of
_smoke and mirrors;_
"a death in chrysalis is to live once again."
Draping into the worn out disheveled
silk, _beautifully withered_
lulled by the sound of riverbanks
as if it's pacifying the feral.
A star-lit eyes deluged with bliss
rose with thorn-teared flesh
overwhelmed by a mawkish melancholia. Although we were haunted by our old love, _it will never be the same_.
Oct 9, 2022
Oct 9, 2022 at 12:05 AM UTC
Lying on the bed
I think of what to write...
....words don't flow out
of my pen
my mind is clogged
vaccum surrounds me
I've ****** all the noise
into my self.
It's waiting to explode.
I realise I am too conscious
of myself,
I realise I am trying to pretend.
My pen leaks out
a random flow of ink
shaped in words
I strike them out
they don't manifest my feelings.
I don't want farce to appeal
to the eye,
I want honesty to touch
the heart.
I am waiting
for my words
to strike a chord
with the strings of my heart.
I am longing
for clarity
that will give my writing
a sense of purpose
and shorn it
of its randomness.
Lying on the bed
I think of what to write....
....my mind is a clean slate
I want to colour it
with thoughts
and feelings,
I want for it to
lose its barrenness
and be fertile
with imagination.
I want for it to
be bereft of fear
for it is,
the place
where revolutions were conceived
and philosophies were born;
the sole reason
for Man's greatness.
It boasts of coveted freedom,
which,
feared tyrants failed to ******
it is a guiding light
to the often faltering humanity.
It has been
subject to manipulations,
deceiving history
into changing its course;
scripting moments
of momentous change,
all, of course,
owing their occurrences
to the enchanting influence
it wields over the body.
Lying on the bed
I think of what to write....
....my mind is deluged
with a rush of thoughts
flowing in and out,
a haze of colours
mesmerises me,
letters, words
dance before my eyes,
songs play out in a loop,
a multitude of
smudgy-outlined faces
gazes at me....
....And I realise
with an epiphany,
It is this very train of thoughts
I shall elaborate on!
Lying on the bed
I think I know what to write on.
Sep 23, 2012
Sep 23, 2012 at 4:55 PM UTC
Her mouth sits agape,
Shallowly wafting stale, dank air.
Each breath drifts down to her lap,
Resting there in a sour cloud.
It reeks of dead fish and swamp mud.
And her middle is drowned in feelings of despair
Which seep sluggishly through the chambers of her heart.
The drunken reflux stains her linen black—
Black as the bottom of some lifeless lake.
She rises from her place at the edge of her bed
Wading through her sorrow—
Through her own viscous thoughts...
She does this
With what little spirit she can muster.
It is the last of what she once possessed.
Aug 23, 2018
Aug 23, 2018 at 12:24 PM UTC
Drenched in the sounds of the silent voice in my head,
and watched it as it reached to my sinuous fingers curving the sounds,
Reading it, did I get deluged by the density of my words...
Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 5:38 AM UTC
I am the coy smiling handsome man
and my feet beat the darkness away when I rush.
And I rush, in the alleys, sightless,
an actor led by lines of wilting dialogue.
And jasmine litters the gutters, fit to be dredged, the
aroma and the petals streaked with reminiscence.
I rush. I am the man toward an apogee,
a scalpel, with tastes as keen as winter lavender,
and eyes that feel the weight of tastes behind them.
As I dredge the depths for rarer tastes
I rush toward the gutter.
And like the gutters I thirst, in the levees and fen-
In the fen the rush of prey caught
Idling fills the space inside my eyes like oil,
and I dredge the lake for traces.
I am the actor, the dredge, my wit rehearsed
and I am acquainted with the lady of the night.
I smile as she caresses my oily deluged eyes-
And her eyes are filled with bile,
accented by jasmine, even
in the dimmest light of
gutters are rushing to an
apogee, fiercer than I'd like them to
appear, but I am the scalpel, to incise the insincere-
I am the prince, an heir to exacting the coerced-
I watch her eyes like windows from the gutter like a vigil
and hold tight to her breath.
I pour her blood in paper cups
until her breath is weightless-
And I rush, an actor, in the scene that we portray-
I am the giver, the oily deluged eyes that close around the flesh
and rend the fruit from the rind.
Mar 27, 2010
Mar 27, 2010 at 12:52 PM UTC
With all the exhuberance of a child on Christmas
The smallest gift was received
Ten words on a page
Joy beyond measure deluged a happy heart
Pieces of a soul....more precious than gold
And in return
With all the exhuberance of a child on Christmas
The smallest gift was given
More excited at the giving
At the anticipation of joy
Waived off upon receipt
Forgotten on a page
Unread pieces of love
Bore holes in a happy heart
Chagrin unassuaged by reluctant glances spurred by pain
Longing for all the exhuberance of a child on Christmas
Oct 11, 2014
Oct 11, 2014 at 9:37 AM UTC
his voice beguiles me, weakening me
in whispered warmth of breath, fingers
trace trembled want of hungry lips
tasting me...
Closing my eyes; I arch into need of
his touch, his voice of seduction breathes
against skin, teasing me
licking my tremors...
I moan in ache, my ripple upon his tongue,
my essence rises lingering within his mouth;
roughly kissing me and I kneel before him,
taking him in slowly suckling; tasting him tip
to pearls licking his veined pendulum swirling
in warmth, vigorously in out
loving his shudder...
he whispers as his fingers tenderly tweak ******
softly, inebriating my senses; aroused horniness,
entering my paradise, firmness weaves flesh in
breathless swells, igniting our twine; like tongue
licking heat of mouth
pulsing in wetness...
searing between open thighs, I ache for his plunge
engraving me, knotted within his arch; deluged in
fluidities flush as lips brush, tongue trails taut nips,
I blush beneath his fiery breath, still teasing
rocked to my foundation...
unraveling me in utter passion, our bodies aching;
assuaging yearn, calming quivers in wet want;
shuddering each abraded ****** loving its aftertaste
in trembled release enlivening; our lust still entwined
within wet ecstasy...
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 12:53 PM UTC
*Silky petals
Gliding aroma
Dripping honey
Eager wait
Rekindled passion
Trickling
Soft beads
Shimmering
Early dawn
Unabated frenzy
Deluged
With love
Drenched souls*
Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 9:43 AM UTC
Feeling the rythmic beat of your heart
your slow breath
listening to the soft rustling of leaves
to the breeze whispering sweet nothings.
Reminiscing pleasant memories...
...an absent-minded smile dancing on your lips
looking at the inky sky, deluged by the cool moonlight
lost in somebody's thoughts, longing for company
to share your quiet moments with...
Apr 27, 2013
Apr 27, 2013 at 12:50 PM UTC
Earlier I did not know god as God
and gods were my friends.
now I know God and God
and I have a master.
Long before my time, my pagan lands
were deluged by the sword of the believers.
and so it came about that
growing up under the rubric of the believers
I, an infidel pagan, think like them.
so, I approached the high priests
and professed my faith in the one Saviour
seeking innocent acceptance and
they asked, Do you believe in the One God
and His sole and final apostle?
well, that depends, I said, on
how you define 'One' and what you mean
by 'God' and who can be called an 'apostle'.
I was too pagan for the believers.
so I approached my pagan brethren
and asked to be admitted into their fold
seeking innocent acceptance and
they asked, what Order do you belong to,
my friend, and what may be
that of your fathers and their fathers?
well, how matters, I said,
the Order my fathers belonged to, or not
to any, when the Spirit lights my heart?
I was too catholic to be pagan.
And so it is that time passes.
Ever wandering by the margins of creeds.
That yet neighbour me on my land.
Earlier we did not know god as God
and gods were our friends.
now we know God and God
and we have a master.
Jun 26, 2013
Jun 26, 2013 at 5:59 AM UTC
**The young woman, plain, was unsmiling behind the control panel,
a ribald passion filled his veins, her mien has to do something,
the airfield was deluged by waves of grief, among them
was those robust women, he tried to forget but couldn't
who may defeat the purpose, if he takes a second look.
She gave her word to fly the single engine airplane
"Don't fear darling, i am an aerobatics specialist
if need arises i wouldn't hesitate to crash land,
take care of your hurt, bleeding lonely heart".
How reassuring! never would he turn back,
after this difficult take off awaited life long.
No more entries in this log book.
Her dark make up, was feline an added attraction
that gave him a libidinous surge, an ******** with ample promises,
to last till he reaches his destination final, from where
the return flight, is even unthinkable the lady pilot winks.
This Cessna to the unknown, has the aphrodisiacal scent of
wild orchid flowers he once discovered in the far stretches
of the Western Ghat mountain ranges
and ******** secretions of one particular lover
a reminder perhaps death wants to carry as it happens**
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 6:03 AM UTC
Desire the sound or hope,
deluding minds in darkness.
Daunting through its scope,
deluged no more in tartness.
Elope into the morrow,
envelop me with reason.
Enclose me now in sorrow,
easing against the legion.
Longs for succulent remonstration,
laying waste to ardent night.
Lopsided in spurn demonstration,
languid with delight.
Only now will I protest,
owning nothing less.
Opening now I detest,
one more time to bless.
©Michael P. Smith
Mar 18, 2013
Mar 18, 2013 at 10:22 PM UTC
The night’s silence invaded by rains
Cutting through the darkness
Dingy streets exposed by the lightning
Howling ferociously, with vengeance
Street dwellers soaked to the spirits
Helpless against the outburst of nature
Scurrying to salvage their meager belongings
Cold and wet streets offer them little solace
The old library portico offers some respite
Nefarious activities are deluged
Tonight no one is on the prowl, no prize catch
Although cold outside, it’s been a sleepless night
So many memories rain down my thought crucible
Filling it to the brim, I feel drowning in them
So many emotions raining down on me
A shiver runs down my spine, cold eeriness
Stormy night stirred up my past
My silent present invaded on a rainy night
Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 12:54 AM UTC
I am sinking,
Into an obsidian pool,
Buried somewhere deep in the crevices of my mind.
Or is t something that transcends my identity,
A sliver of an entity that is so refined,
That the pool in my dreams,
Is a pale reflection of what it truly is.
As I sink into the dark waters,
The stars that shine above fade away,
As the darkness claims what should never have been,
The joyous moments we shared deluged.
I watch, impassive.
The pool of oblivion cleanses me of the taint,
That emotion smothers on all those who fall prey to it.
In the backdrop, a desolate aria snakes its way,
A song without words, lust and longing lent expression,
As it plays, I can see you, fade away,
The water purges your traces away from my soul,
And all I may do is watch you go away,
Perhaps, this is for the best.
Mortal men, caged by the demons of their past,
Should not wander to close, to divine beings like you,
Lest, like me, they burn and wither away,
In the fiery embrace of unrequited love.
For tonight however,
The pool shall remake me again.
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 7:27 AM UTC
Let your mind settle down
Eliminate the noises and distractions
Listen carefully to the voice within
Deluged in the cacophony for long
Awaken the soul from deep slumber
Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 2:11 AM UTC
You only judge;
Or misjudge, the minimal effort you saw while my mind was gagged and bound
The many breakdowns you were a part of where no fix could be found
And the deluged of tears you hardly stuck around long enough to see hit the ground
You never asked;
About the profound effort of simply starting a day on the day priors rebound
About the countless cries that tried to break through the red tape but never found sound
Or about the tears I was told weren't allowed to form with other people around
Leaving me to question;
Can a life be built on the middle ground?
I guess the more important question is,
Do you desire to turn this thing around?
Is there any interest,
What-so-ever,
In seeing if a middle can even be found?
I'd appreciate your response but don't expect to see one come around
Fool heartedly yours,
The Crying Clown
©2024
Jun 13, 2024
Jun 13, 2024 at 2:58 PM UTC
Stygian shadows devour my fall:
Incarnadine structure the greatest of all!
I fathom this flesh by transgressions been moored
In depths of iniquity forevermore.
Dreams been hallowed in glistening chest:
Thought sanctity born to be laid to rest!
Clouds of soil drape the skies,
My chalice strewn in grave on high.
Shockwaves emitted from brain do rend
In soul conviction of celestial mend,
The thew of ebony phantoms draw
Blood from heartbeat left unthawed.
A parcel wayworn and torn by winds,
And by time: the fruitage of illusory sin!
In lungs my oxygen laced and maimed,
Tis’ miasma of youth impaled by pain.
Are pining for flight the days of yore
Into the horizon of virtue’s dawn.
Yet a specter reaps my holy days
Until incorporeal, for eternity shamed.
Yet is there hope for the soul accursed?
A susurrus spins a tale of mirth:
Though once incarcerated by dirges doom,
A melisma tranced a deluged moon.
Forlorn in the skies by nebulous stars,
Yet efflorescence cocoons that body marred.
Gravity transcended by a coronal soar,
Lightness abides at aethers door!
Prophecy of the cosmos exhales at last!
Rapture divined red-shift once masked!
O extol His radiance, O relinquish your souls!
That The Transcendental shall forge ye whole!
Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 11:41 AM UTC
In her dark, crinkly map of life,
drawn from shady experiences
she courted in her forgettable past,
hope was an island fully obliterated,
not even a dot was left as a mark
nothing identifiable was there, just water.
Perplexed she stood, not knowing
how to reclaim any of it, even if it's in depth.
Then came the mysterious redeemer,
uncaring about his fate;
innocence was writ large on his face,
she roped him in to helping her.
He dived deep in to her deluged past,
dredged enough, from under,
gave her hope a shape and size,
to make an island, that would give her life.
The beauty he created for her sake was unbelievable,
no monument of love would have looked so resplendent!
That's where she brought her new lover over,
a character as shady and vicious as her,
her somersault was indeed spectacular
none had witnessed such a heartless trick, till then!
She forgot the past, the deluge that engulfed her hopes,
the mysterious redeemer and all that.
Oct 16, 2013
Oct 16, 2013 at 10:17 AM UTC
Allow me…..
No dear, you are no longer allowed!!!!
You will not engulf me in your broken lies.
You will not confused me,
as your lips utter I love you’s until I abide.
Allow me……
You will not deluged me in your obscene passion.
You will no longer have access to the parts of me,
that provoked your lustful desire.
You will not touch me,
You will not osculate me,
You will not speak to me of;
love, commitment, or growing old.
No dear…Allow me!
You will no longer patronize me,
You will no longer demean me,
You will have to live without me,
……………..the rest of your drama.
For you see,
as you devoted yourself to breaking the parts of me;
that pledged to be forever yours,
that vowed to become one with you,
that promised a daily kiss with bliss,
that zealously built this home, brick by brick,
while your termite behavior teared the foundations of this love,
your savagery actions left cracks in my soul,
thus, breaking my humanity!!!!
No dear…. Allow me!
Stop moving your bottom lip, let me tell you how this will be;
I will tear down the shrine I placed you in.
I will build a new home…where I am free.
I will restore my broken heart without your lies.
I will live. I will love. I will heal.
I will now allow me, without you telling me how!!!!
LeydisProse
5/31/2017
https://m.facebook.com/LeydisProse/
Jun 14, 2017
Jun 14, 2017 at 2:50 PM UTC
Why is man designed to die?
Perchance, perchance I wonder why.
The world may become too populated.
Weigh too much, of worldly worries.
Planet had a thundering head.
Just wishes she may go to bed.
Whistling winds.
Drums of thunder.
Deluged by rain.
Sit and wonder.
Count on the fingers of one hand.
Where pleasantries belie the land.
Moonface is watching, through curtains that twitch.
Death,although horrid is surely a gift.
(c)LIVVI
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 4:25 PM UTC
Another excuse with its seldom meaning.
Words that fabricate lies before truth intervening.
In the end are left with no reasoning.
Just a vile taste deluged with seasoning.
Try an camouflage the truth with what I desire to hear.
Butter up the words, composing them to sound sincere.
Vaguely enough so the concept is mysteriously unclear.
Unwilling to let myself so that one may conceive thee.
You continue to allow yourself to lie to me.
Through the blackest hour of the night.
Tossing and turning striving to justify the right.
Struggling to lay it all to rest.
Forbidden it away to even attempt to protest.
Endless tears burned by a dying ache beneath the chest.
Another heart shatters and breaks upon request.
Words of truth locked up, hidden away, never to break free.
You collapsed to your knees and preserved to plea.
I stood there only to watch you lie to me.
Gaze, hypnotize and daze, look me in the eyes.
Relinquish the truth and speak to me with lies.
Replace the truth, let me endure the revise.
Make believe and untrue of no despise.
With the slightest vantage to your degree.
Provoke thee so that I may see.
Contain me so that I will not spree nor flea.
Just go on and proceed to lie to me.
Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 8:47 AM UTC