"dereliction" poems
Like a meme of activism
This women's coalition
Mothers
Sister
Friends
Pioneers and heroines
There's courage in their convictions
A guild of collectivism
They hold luncheons in their kitchens
Talk of abolition
Mysticism
Feminism
Of heroes and magnetism
Seduction
Love
Eroticism
They scream like banshees at a crucifixion
About injustice
Dereliction
Terrorism
A tradition underwritten
With symbolism
Drums
Violins
Musicians
They may be sitting
They may be knitting
Baking muffins
Folding linen
Running errands
Stuffing chickens
A juxtaposition to their ambition
Of inspiring the unwilling
Turning derision to optimism
Their fire and brimstone
Will have history rewritten
Freedom of reproduction
Liberalism
Animism
They have wisdom
Intuition
Rhythm
They are fearsome
This women's coalition
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 4:07 PM UTC
Addicted to diction,
With conflicting
Prescriptions
From competing
Physicians,
I'm dying from sickness
In the wealthcare system.
Our nutrition
Is based on
Corn-laced fiction,
Advertisement
Superstitions,
And a pill for every
Devised affliction.
We're born into life
Under welfare
Conscription,
And destined to die
From dereliction.
Make sure to vote
For the best
Infection in the
Next election,
As they raise
A toast
To their own
Reflections.
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 5:33 PM UTC
a new face
a devil's diction
a change of pace
a gift for fiction
a brand new taste
a signed petition
all heads bowed at benediction
a very small space
a cause for friction
a high speed chase
a duty left in dereliction
a rat's race
a drug addiction
a heart misplaced
a **** conviction
a gathering place
a tight constriction
a country full of human waste
an angel dies of malnutrition
Oct 9, 2011
Oct 9, 2011 at 7:37 AM UTC
The circumambient wings of a seraph
Obstrepously monastic within
Dereliction contemning the
Mendaciously obsequious;
The bathos of ablution grittily
Jejune fulgerating the engrossed.
The chaldean lachrymatory
The ligature of the darklings rheum,
Volently acclaimed
The paladin necromancers
Circumfluous wintry orbs
Ardently accosting the chasm
Lasping tarnation fructifying
Acedias roborant,
Heavens ignoble lassitude
The boreal scope of causality-
Hells predacious moil.
ELEETE J MUIR..
Apr 9, 2012
Apr 9, 2012 at 2:24 PM UTC
his golden chariot climbs high
pulled by four fiery steeds
his corona ablaze
shining and radiant
bringing light and warmth
to a mundane world
rising in the east
setting in the west
from horizon to horizon
for eternity
his only respite
was resting inside a golden cup
catching the red eye back east
via Oceanus
to start the day again
a solemn, solitary figure
dedicated to daily duty
Zephyr felt pity for him
she whispered a sweet perfume
that struck him like Eros’ arrow
his eyes followed his nose
he spied a maiden so fair
frolicking amidst flora and fauna
a wreath of yarrow crowning her hair
Helios had never taken notice
of mortals before
but found her beguiling
an innocent, unassuming hottie
so unlike the haughty goddesses
he left his chariot
to pursue her visage
the earth plunged into cold darkness
as mighty Atlas moved his shoulders
trying to see what was the matter
the earth quaked
humans shrieked in fear
“The gods have forsaken us!”
Zeus heard the commotion
and looked down from Olympus
he found Helios gazing upon his lady
entranced as if by Sirens’ call
unaware of the darkness
entrenching earth
enraged, Zeus hurled a lightning bolt
temporarily blinding Helios
shaking him from his stupor
Helios blushed with shame
for his dereliction of duty
creating the first red sunset
as he climbed back into his chariot
in a pre-emptive strike
a preventive measure
Zeus erased Helios’ memory
and first froze the girl in a block of ice
but took pity on her
and transformed her into a cloud
to the delight of humans
Helios resumed his duties
oblivious to the eclipse of his memory
but somehow feeling strangely at loss
to this day
every now and then
on the rarest of occasions
he would glimpse a peculiar icy cloud
dancing before him
uncertain as to why he would notice
one cloud from so many
he would just smile brightly
and carry on
Jul 17, 2015
Jul 17, 2015 at 7:43 PM UTC
Away! the moor is dark beneath the moon,
Rapid clouds have drunk the last pale beam of even:
Away! the gathering winds will call the darkness soon,
And profoundest midnight shroud the serene lights of heaven.
Pause not! the time is past! Every voice cries, ‘Away!’
Tempt not with one last tear thy friend’s ungentle mood:
Thy lover’s eye, so glazed and cold, dares not entreat thy stay:
Duty and dereliction guide thee back to solitude.
Away, away! to thy sad and silent home;
Pour bitter tears on its desolated hearth;
Watch the dim shades as like ghosts they go and come,
And complicate strange webs of melancholy mirth.
The leaves of wasted autumn woods shall float around thine head,
The blooms of dewy Spring shall gleam beneath thy feet:
But thy soul or this world must fade in the frost that binds the dead,
Ere midnight’s frown and morning’s smile, ere thou and peace, may meet.
The cloud shadows of midnight possess their own repose,
For the weary winds are silent, or the moon is in the deep;
Some respite to its turbulence unresting ocean knows;
Whatever moves or toils or grieves hath its appointed sleep.
Thou in the grave shalt rest:—yet, till the phantoms flee,
Which that house and heath and garden made dear to thee erewhile,
Thy remembrance and repentance and deep musings are not free
From the music of two voices, and the light of one sweet smile.
2.3k
Millions of years of existence
Earth carries layers of history
Abundant and bountiful
They thrived during their peak
Happiness and coexistence
Turned to rambunctious ambitions
Valiant hearts turned violent
Severing the ties of humanity
Colored the layers of history in red
Tyrants and traitors marred the existence
Of the beautiful fabric of mankind
Stained fate, never to recover
Sometimes nature turned foe
Obliterating life from this Earth
History is the silent custodian
Testimony to the many facets of humanity
We bring our downfall
Mired in controversies and revenge
Saga of shameful acts and own dereliction
Sifting through the layers of history
It’s not for the faint-hearted to endure
The rough tales of disasters and annihilation
Millions of years and many more thereafter
At the crossroads of humanity
History is waiting to add many more layers
To the annals of its testimony
Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 8:17 AM UTC
how long must I walk in the ashes of my yesterday?
charred carbon butterflies dancing past my tired eyes
floating on what could be the last breaths of this tired world
nothing but a fleeting sigh, nothing but a fading whisper.
Ashes.
the endless long lost steps
the creaking weary bones
one foot in front of the other
I walk in Ashes.
I look to the jagged teeth where earth meets the sky
gnashing, grinding, grinning
a sickly cheshire smile far and wide
a newness, a nascence felt inside
the illusion is slowly fading
but yet I still walk in Ashes.
like sepulchral confetti
the blackened ash quietly collects
whispering and licking at my ears
a tragic choir in unison they sing
'one and one have become zero'
in silence I grieve beneath a jet black sky
on my broken knees
never ending Ashes.
will this ever end?
rust covered, abandoned
thoughts like swinging hammers
comforted only by Ashes
that sing me into nightmares
of dying stars and black suns
and nights that have killed the only Dawn I've ever known
will the Ashes ever end?
in all the desolation, in all the dereliction
there is calm, a soothing shudder scrapes my skin
a rising urgency deeply rooted beneath the I
sweetly swaddled
gently graced
blanketed by Ashes.
the roof of the world
sunken, failing - utter frailty
I am no telamon, I have no strength
unable to bear the weight
the weight of all the Ashes.
in this comforting collapse
at the bottom of my oubliette
wings of splintered light emerge
they glow like the light of dying cinders
they glow like your iridescent halo
they glow like the last light I will ever see.
Apr 3, 2010
Apr 3, 2010 at 2:14 PM UTC
She had a tongue that could open a wine bottle.
Razor-sharp articulation.
A fine art, some might say.
Living sentences on a knifes-edge.
It started in a unblunted manner,
The force hit smacked splintered minds like a hammer.
Honed in cuspate motions,
Incisively smashing the nail on the head.
She wasn’t wrong often.
Vivacious wit vivid oscillating witch,
some might say.
Not I.
I followed in the downstream of her resonance.
A quivering wreck,
soaked from head to toe in her libretto.
She marched in stilettos,
locomotive tip-toe motion,
devotion to the traverse.
Deviating as s he ambulated across lurid cobbled paths.
How she manages, alas.
Evades my comprehension.
She had this brunt agitation,
as if,
she couldn’t hear the words you say to her.
Maybe it was her nescient nature.
A think naive conversant,
If only it was that simple.
Those dimples on her cheeks were like craters in the moon.
That cheesy laugh fractures.
She escaped from Alcatraz,
Caught only by the dereliction,
of her minds conviction.
Infamy lapsed,
as she collapsed in a pretzel of marvellous contortion.
She radiantly turned to stone,
a statuesque stanza.
Cloned in allure,
that never found answers she was looking for.
Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 4:50 AM UTC
1.
Sweet love
Oh, such sweet love.
2.
Stick into the pincushion of hope
Gentle pins of far-off dreams,
Holding wispy threads of desire
For which time (as a heading) is never enough.
Push down and drown all thought
Which beckon expectation -
And trust to want less.... or nothing;
Thus reduced, we get no fails.
3.
All up to the sky
We cry,
Agonising -
That waiting of footfall.
Then.....
Lovely flow.
Yes, let's dare to increase
Irregular patterns of abdicated pain.
To fulfill what is so held back.
4.
Because of you
Three days can last a lifetime
Full of affection and delicious warmth
Within the bearings of your arms.
5.
Dreams in the coffee whorls
Willing spindles now
Turn as they eddy...like happy tidings
All around my head.
Dreamscapes thrive
In dulcet whirls inside our core.
6.
No shipwrecks here,
No abandoning of esperance.
No deserting,
No dereliction of love.
No grief,
No castaways on hopeless coast.
These proffered crumbs on palm
Become sought-after......and precious gifts.
7.
Sweet love garnered over time
Poured slowly.....into sacred cup.
Where phantoms run to hide away
No abode for wicked despair.
Oh, for lovelorn hearts and broken dreams
To find such gladness in a cup
We hold hope, ever bold....so deep in heart
And sink away in woven bliss.
Capsule of infinity.....
8.
Come, let us drink
From our coffee-cup.....
Of love.
Oh, come......
9.
Time to kneel and give thanks
Place forgiving wafer on tongue.
Take none in haste
Accept only when ready.
To....
Drink sweetness of sky's nectar.
10.
Of pastures plain
And meadow green
Swift do echoes fall
As moments slip away....like clouds.
11.
Oh, and....
One sugar....
(No analogy needed, surely :)
Hot.....
(Nor here!)
And BLACK, please.
S T, 11 April 2013
Apr 11, 2013
Apr 11, 2013 at 3:44 PM UTC
Darkened doorways to the outside, bright wide doorways to insides
My insides, spilled on the linoleum over the smell of oleander
I stare into your black cracked eyes with a loving smile
It’s a gaze in the fog where your thin fingers stretch
You are all the hills, all the ditches and fills, the trills
Of nightbirds and coyotes looking for the ****
You are ruthless, ruthless, ruthless…
And I fly every mile like a salamander slides.
And I must, hush, say this in a whisper, whispering cobwebs
My morning glory, sweet sunrise through black curtain.
I could have learned to live a long time ago
With a gaze in the fog you touched and taught me
You are all my fatal fear, your mind is clear, all here
Your legend floating in a perfect tear
It is endless, endless, endless…
Your crystalline flow on the uncertain ebbs.
How many, many eyes do you have? How many sighs
Drift through your rafters like your own vortex of laughter?
I remember falling in love with a light from beyond you
Your gaze in the fog like the fire from your head
Eggshell lead paint, no complaint, breathe in till you faint
With all your soul that of a stenciled saint
Songs so shameless, endless, ruthless,
Cannot fly through this shell until after it dies.
May 18, 2013
May 18, 2013 at 3:21 AM UTC
Life’s comprehension
Limited by apprehension
So many contradictions
Dissent caused by frictions
Relentless falsification
Path leads to dereliction
Facade of colorful graffiti
No one heeds an entreaty
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 11:52 AM UTC
At one point I couldn’t find love to purchase
I thought you ended those searches
but now I’m getting nervous
thinking I might be allergic
to your nature absurdist
and I can’t swerve this
feeling I’m worthless
stripped of all purpose
boils start to burn us.
I’ve got an eczema
sense of a
relationship
rashly lips
can’t kiss
who they wish.
I can’t leave the house
or your eczema breaks out
you scream and shout
and make me doubt
if your love is devout
when you treat me like trout.
Stress boils through my skin
after you tell me I win
and leave my house of sin
leaving a gift in
an itch
given by a witch
to make me twitch.
You’re the itch that rashes
causing unnecessary scratches
leaving a width of lashes
on my skin in patches
your personality matches
the blistering ashes
of my skin that detaches.
I keep itching
I keep scratching
to be switching
from your thrashing
into comfort
to numb hurt
of dumb words
creating thunder.
A doctor gave me a prescription
to avoid your dereliction
and feral diction.
He gave me an antidote
in a plan of hope
helping me cope
with saying nope.
The rash lingers
like poison fingers
choking me
woefully
draining life
like rain at night
I pray for light
and wait inside.
I found cortisone
in the form of a home
with a man
so I’m in demand
not your empty hand
red from the brand
of all the discomfort you withstand
now that you’re itching like sand
seeing I’m no longer ******
Jun 5, 2020
Jun 5, 2020 at 5:46 AM UTC
I'm drowning in the sea of shattered dreams
I'm stuck in the jungle of darkness
I'm left alone in the valley of fear
I'm climbing up the mountain of insecurities
I'm walking under a cloud of doubts
I'm leaving behind a trail of disappointments
I'm breathing in the air of frustration
I'm staring at the sky of mistakes
I'm marooned in a storm of sorrows
I'm lost in a world of travesties
Dec 11, 2012
Dec 11, 2012 at 12:42 PM UTC
Tomorrow is a shattered mirror,
blinking at me, showing the sun's teeth,
as though fending off starving stray cats.
There was no sun today,
I worked while it slept below
its sheets made of the empty fields
that lie east of my home.
Dereliction, undiluted, joins ranks with the
birds who have forgotten winter is coming.
Blotches of paint on stormcloud canvas,
like Jackson ******* began painting the October sky
and gave up after three or four flails of his
glorified, dripping brush.
Although there is a reflection here,
it is a dream now. The details have been
misplaced, and we can only recall major
landmarks and plot twists.
The surface, however, looks the same
as it always has,
and will go on doing so,
through the death of tomorrow, and her child.
Oct 14, 2012
Oct 14, 2012 at 1:22 AM UTC
I work too much to think,
I think too much to work.
one minute I'm playing games,
trying hard to stay sane,
and then at my face I stare,
trying to fix my hair.
funny how time flies,
when you're doing twenty things at once,
I'm not the other guys,
it's been way to many month.
it's funny isn't it?
you try hard to keep your mental,
but your mental is detrimental to potential to have potential.
I despise the way you cry in the rain to hide the pain, when you try to hide the tears, and shelter all your fears, it's been way too many years, so you change it with the sheers, one hair at a time, counting down all of the crimes that happened to your life as you're reaching for the knife, screaming on the inside, but my words you don't abide when I'm trying.
I'm just trying.
****** I'm trying.
I'm trying.
I walk away in a silent vision of all things that are violent.
changing the description of faults, you default back into the shell as if it were your fault, but it's none but their own from what the records show.
And I try to make you see that inside my eyes you'll see a soul that's ment to be the reason that you breathe. but my words you don't abide, but I'm trying.
I'm just trying.
I can see, that you're trying.
I'm trying.
Delirious to the mysterious succession of the furious fears that settled in to the demons that are near to us and thus we make them dear to us.
my friend you are just missing out on what your life could be all about. a future that you surely doubt but realise that you're finally out. so wipe away the salted wounds that only you can see and despite all of the water you have to let yourself breathe because you're free. but my words you don't abide but I'm trying.
I'm just trying,
she not special but you're trying.
In the end do you love? or perhaps it was lust? or perhaps it was a must, for you to claim your trust. that you lost from your past? as a child you didn't last very long in a fight internally ignited by the crazed human beings that you said you wanted to show you your affection? instead of dereliction of a fantasy of perfection? and I read all of your sections and my words you don't abide even though I try.
and man, I am trying.
stop fighting it and try.
I'm just trying.
Albeit that you must realize who I am. I'm ashamed of what I was, I'm ashamed of what I became. I could never hide my sin, and I never could fit in, no matter friend or kin. so I hide the voice within trying to tell me to let them in. but what you know is just the skin. and you see.
the skin sheds.
as it dies, it tries to hide.
and me? I'm just trying.
so a hermit I will become.
because all I do is try.
and for now.
I'm done trying.
Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 10:28 PM UTC
Huddled in a cocoon of my own grime
Forlorn and wasted from my own trick
“She's hot,” she says from across the
Room filled with helium and gauze
You don't need words to make a statement
It's very difficult to be that *****
I suffer from delusions of
Illusions of grandeur
Pomp and circumstance
My theme song
I've graduated to this degree of decadence
Or is it dereliction?
I always get those two confused
Which is the one where
Ripple wine and crack *******
Are preferable to
Caviar and pink champagne?
No matter
I am equally distant from both
“Who does that,” she mutters
As she watches a
Woman in stilettos
Being urinated on by a
Hairy man on the *** channel
I sit with my ink pen and
Draw black eyes on the
Models in women's magazines
She turns to me
“Are you even listening?”
This pale, shelled out
Husk of a former woman asks
I'm listening
I retort within my own shackled mind
But if I pay attention
I just may **** us both
Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 9:06 PM UTC
The petulant embrace of a middle aged man
Signals my return from the bombardment
As the ramparts crumble, spraying choking fragments of
Grecian influence ‘round the temple grounds
He looks behind our momentary tenderness
To see the ruined state of the state
And as if spurred by some horrid god, cries
In the voice of his daughters,
“But from where did you amass such a guilt?
From whom did you learn to bundle your clothes up
All haywire and royal like that? What purpose
Is garnered from the dereliction of duty?
The rash abandonment of the grueling caste?
It prickles my skin, leaving boils and coils
Of wasted epiderms, who sit and wonder
About the condition.”
My tears welled with eyes,
Fresh droplets of sight dripping
With every twist of my neckpiece.
But from this point I must return
My liquefaction awaits eagerly
To hear news of the front
The bombardment must keep itself from reticence
Lest we lose our footing in the paradigm parade.
Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 3:19 PM UTC
None but the marked
shall rise in the dark.
Hell-bent;
the earth, shall they raze.
They took up the oath
to ever-revoke
mortality for immortal praise.
Lifeless, and hopeless;
a thirst so atrocious;
an eternal,
unquenchable lust.
In death, shall they grow;
to blood, they're betrothed.
Their hunger derails their disgust.
Sink teeth into skin;
to the flesh that's within;
bleed dry
the carcassed wellspring.
This world, once so grand,
'twas undone by their hand;
dereliction, their only decree.
The shade of the night
brings naught but delight
for those
who burn in the ray.
From out of the grave
spawn the crimson depraved,
feasting 'pon the walkers of day.
*When sunlight strikes west, 'til dawn, do we pray
against these abhorrent butchers called "They."*
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 12:35 PM UTC
There was a man who was a fraud.
Incarcerated, He found the Lord.
“I am here for my dereliction,
But why are you in this situation?”
“I heard a soul call out my name,
a spirit in a world of pain.”
“Tonight he dies by lethal injection.
I came to hear his last confession”
“He killed a young girl”, Charles Colson said,
“Surely, it’s just when he, too, is dead.”
“I see that Justice in your mind
is of the eyeless, toothless kind.”
“On you, the irony is lost,
But his gurney is shaped like my cross.”
“He bears the cross known as regret,
His crown of thorns awaits him yet.”
“Forgive me, Lord”, the Felon sighed
“my rush to judgment and my pride.”
“ Let me be reborn this night,
that I might show the world your light.”
He spoke this as a humble prayer,
to a man no longer there.”
The Lord had moved to the bedside
Of the one who would be crucified.
Apr 22, 2012
Apr 22, 2012 at 2:52 PM UTC
Alone we maybe not
Not even with ourselves
There may be
Another you, within
Covered with outer you
Feelings of
sadness
loss
fear
dereliction
challenges
We get some directions
On how to react to such situations
Or, runaway from danger
Inner voice comes from the soul
Encased by our outer being
To hide from the regular world
So, is there a duality?
One to face the world outside
Another to negotiate inner world
Who has immense awareness
Beyond our regular understanding
We often have a one-to-one
Wonder, who replies
Is this a missing link
The chasm between our outer and inner world
Stretching between the abyss
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 2:23 PM UTC
Across this green and verdant land
Atop the snow capped reaches high,
Shadows lengthen as the sun
Descends in golden strata sky.
Alone I sit on granite stone
Contemplating nature’s gold
Why then, is my mood so dark?
Why then do I feel, so old?
I caste my mind across the sea
To continents adrift and lost
Where war and famine grow unchecked,
Where we, afar, won’t count the cost.
Where we who dwell in peaceful air
Rescind concern for they who bleed,
In Syria’s protracted scream
Or under Russian jackboot greed.
Where we who dwell in peaceful air
Withhold our roar of hot retort,
Who turn the other cheek to look
Away from honour’s last resort.
Where politic’s impotent bleat
Of sanctions threat for Cossack cheek
A nervous holding hand depicts
The West’s resolve is proven weak.
Instigators, born of wealth
And power, seeking more and more,
Manipulating Putin and Obama's
Calculated Chess game score.
We who watch with no comment
In green surround and peaceful sky
Now turn to look the other way
As they in distant places die.
Do we come to terms with this,
This dereliction born of loss?
Across the globe this dirth of care,
Humanity's lead albatross?
M.
Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 7:22 PM UTC
In the 80's there was a rumble
in the 90's it started to crumble
the start to the end
the fall of Detroit
Now 2010
dereliction all around
is this truly
the fall of Detroit
Look at workers
without work
this is their labour
the fall of Detroit
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
Jan 21, 2014
Jan 21, 2014 at 4:19 PM UTC