"dilapidation" poems
997
Crumbling is not an instant’s Act
A fundamental pause
Dilapidation’s processes
Are organized Decays.
’Tis first a Cobweb on the Soul
A Cuticle of Dust
A Borer in the Axis
An Elemental Rust—
Ruin is formal—Devil’s work
Consecutive and slow—
Fail in an instant, no man did
Slipping—is Crash’s law.
5.6k
My life is a fraud
Posing greatness, I go home to empty bed
I remember a girl
It was heavenly lying next to her
Talking, walking, being with her
Countless fissures fitted, amazing minutiae
She was the one, paradise once
Dilapidation is order of the day
Death dwells among the living
Seeped deep in floorboards, forcing hands
Death is more real than God
Death is God
Why is this night different from all other nights?
I rouse from anxious nightmares
Awakening to truer horrors
What is believable?
Her lips were the best
Scattered into tiny unrecognizable pieces
Where she licked
I didn’t realize it was all her New York City connections
I thought it was simply
Her eager tongue
One last remark
This is not poetry
Who am I to utter
Ice-cream truck ***** broadcasts
Tomorrow guarantees new beginnings
To an unforgivable forgiven past
I miss her presence
My life is a frog
Jun 2, 2013
Jun 2, 2013 at 10:02 AM UTC
Thy blowing blue breakers
sweep overboard,
take color away from
the faces of the men,
washed in white walled foam
and cyanotic sapphire
speak novels in seconds
no well placed punctuation
such is the way of the sea
*I'm searching the heavens
for happy notes
over sour tones
and mis-pitched harmonies.
As I stargaze, I'm trampled
by depressive episodes and felonies.*
Now,
your bold bone breakers
bring drought and salt
but nothing savory here.
Nothing ventured and
nothing gained,
streets washed of life, weeds,
wear and tears
the only water to be found
wasted on self expression
instead of survival.
Such is the bane of our fathers.
Women's feet shuffled like playing cards
and men's backs bare a striking resemblance
- striking? stricken -
to the laugh-lashed shaming
of their own emotional dilapidation.
And might your mind be free
from weather and tears
you have but to hear/see/smell the broken
to become undone
Like so many pages, dead dry leaves
nestled inside leather-bound luxury with a broken spine.
Thy mindless diction fixes
namebrand problems to
hot button topics,
trafficked into pipelines
down polluted broadcasts of
girls girls girls...
Your voice bellows and breaks.
We are nothing.
Whatever color or shape you take,
We are nothing.
Whenever you go and
whichever language you abuse,
remember in your heart that we are
nothing
like
you.
Women's feet shuffle on hardwoods
bringing heart to the beat
as men's whitewashed canvases carry
the quintessence of quixotic movements
in and about key changes
the same as we paint our love
around the fringes of each other
and frame unfamiliar faces in lip-locked sepia
blushing, brushing
we carry the color of previous strokes until
we are each our own historic hue
staining others for future use
in cobalt, mauve, maroon, chartreuse
We harness our pain
in the alchemy of experience
to create beauty.
Jun 8, 2014
Jun 8, 2014 at 1:29 PM UTC
Many may discourage your noble ambition
But, due to that, drop not your great mission
To realize it, please develop superb for vision
Go ahead, as you have taken the best decision
It may appear silly when you give an expression
Regarding you goal that is tough for realization
But, if you make a truly marathon contribution
To overcome it, the goal will give sure permission
While pursuing your goal, have no trepidation
Sudden losses will occur to give intimidation
Never allow your goal to suffer dilapidation
Carry on with hope, trust and truest devotion
In respect of your goal, gather all the information
Regarding your hope, give to yourself confirmation
Allow optimism in mind for real faith's formation
Let not your goal suffer at any time deformation
Impossible tasks are finished using great dedication
What is required for achievement is application
Never stop having with God holy communication
Anything is possible through God's benediction.
mvvenkataraman
Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 8:38 AM UTC
Smeared visualization distorted on my
perceptions of what I see beyond this
frame of sight, I am numb to the hearing
of what is vocalized beyond this mounting.
Palms etch silhouettes of my fears that became
indifferent to the haze that consumed what
once was luminous. Now jaded reflections
turn inwards and devour the glass now cracked.
Pristine architecture now squandered in reflective
doubts. Dilapidation of what held perceptions
of fleeting sights. Apprehension now seen in others
eyes, adorned beyond perceptions looking inwards
May 10, 2016
May 10, 2016 at 6:23 PM UTC
the limestone fence is crumbling
the old church, boarded up
the dilapidation process began years ago
cobwebs stretch across the vestibule
the pulpit
the pews
smothered with dust
the grieving is silent
the emptiness, consuming
no compassion
no absolution
infested with ghosts
blending with the landscape
all but forgotten
subjugated by nature
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 3:28 PM UTC
losing all
your will
your everything
until a shell
flat broke
with money
becomes of you
full of angry
frustrated
and raging
confusion
so now here I am
existing without enemy
and what's next...
is nothing special,
day in and day out
alone
empty
in a room
with battle trinkets
and more nothings
describing situations
long past
remembering awful things
in convoluted ways
dreaming of past missions
loves, friends and reasons
coloring in the edges
to make for a more
palatable being
to be remembered
with glee and reverence
in satisfaction...
but for long
it never lasts
and now all's collapsing
on all sides
losing structure
becoming distorted
leading to dilapidation
like an abandoned diorama
left to ruin
left to weather
left to be forgotten
my mother always said...
"memories cannot save themselves"
- grave yards are stupid
Apr 5, 2018
Apr 5, 2018 at 5:57 PM UTC
This heart is a symbolic semblance
Of the constitution that we pretend
To know that we feel and apprehend
A literal presentation of emotion
Is this an excuse for our lack of confirmation?
Could we portray what we mean without what's relative?
Is this all that you've come to see?
Or am I just a try hard with an over blown ego?
Have I just stated what is already prevalent ?
An egotist mind within your own assumptions
would be just as forbidding as it's own relativity
To claim that this love is so endlessly brilliant
A cackle from the nothingness of self assurance
The seldom thoughts that lay in dilapidation
Could be seen if it weren't that pride
Was the only benefactor to your own pleasure
And , if it's a must to be who you are
Then why the **** do you strive so hard ?
To be something that you already were
A human being with nothing but humility
Aug 17, 2016
Aug 17, 2016 at 4:12 PM UTC
There's an inner sinking in my ocean.
A billowing crescent, waxed devotion
Whispering within the subtleties of breath.
I believe in what will cause our death.
I believe discovering our inner selves,
In among the mixed revelations,
Dainty compilations facing dilapidation.
The many soulless miners delve deeper.
When you learn who you are past the shouts of the gods.
Shattering composure with their mighty voices.
Left to one's own devices, secreting away the factual answers.
Humans dreaming in spite of their own conscious, forever dancers.
When you learn you're like the rest, a part of the whole.
What will hold up to you? As the best, the beauty of the soul.
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 5:11 PM UTC
You tell me you want to know,
but tell me what you really mean.
Through the lines, you say, "Lie to me",
scattered dilapidation being the incorrect
way of being. I must let this darkness out,
yet instead I give you light. If only
the light I lied was enough to permeate
my dreary, opaque existence.
May 22, 2016
May 22, 2016 at 9:21 AM UTC
And!
Yes, I am imposing,
I move accordingly and as I please.
I will change the path, if it persists on imposing itself on me.
And!
Yes, I'm haughty,
Contemptuous at times,
arrogant and unconquerable,
I am a warrior,
I am untamed,
I am fierce,
I am wild flower,
I am ungovernable.
I am the gleam in gold,
I am of earth its smell,
of water and earth, I am its clay,
I belong to my dreams,
and
yes, it is true that,
I belong to no one.
And!
With my hands on the waist,
I enthrall all the power from antiquity.
I do not fold my eyes, I always look ahead.
I will look straight at you, I will read you, unnerving your manhood.
I put back my shoulders and shake the dust of impotence,
and stay in the fight with hunger and cunning.
And!
Yes, I am wholesome although I am missing all of me.
I carry a sword in the hips,
a knife between the legs to expurgated whoever covets..taming me.
And!
Yes, I am more complicated than math,
I am as simple as art,
I like the tongues
I like tongues that serves to communicate.
And!
I love everything and nothing at all without variants.
I am of the world-its insistence,
the energy, the dilapidation,
survival and perseverance.
I am brave,
I am wild flower,
I am Warrior.
And!
____________________________________________________________
¡Y!
Si soy imponente
me pongo y me quito a mi gusto.
El camino lo cambio si persiste en imponerse.
¡Y!
Sí, soy altiva,
desdeñosa, soberbia,
guerrera indomable,
soy indómita,
soy fiera,
soy flor silvestre,
soy ingobernable.
Soy del oro su brillo,
de la tierra el olor,
del agua y la tierra su barro,
de los pies el trayecto,
y le pertenezco a mis sueños,
y sí, es cierto que no soy de nadie.
¡Y!
Con las manos en la cintura, absorbo todo el poder de la antigüedad.
Miro de frente y no doblego la mirada.
Te miro, te leo, y te espanto la hombría.
Alzo los hombros y me sacudo el polvo de la impotencia,
y sigo en la lucha, con hambre, con astucia y picardía.
¡Y!
Sí, soy entera, aunque todo me falte.
Llevo una espada en las caderas,
un cuchillo entre las piernas, que cortan las ansias de quien pretenda domarme.
¡Y!
Sí, soy más complicada que la matemática,
soy tan simple como el arte,
me gusta la lengua,
me gustan las lenguas y todo lo que sirva para comunicarse.
¡Y!
Amo todo y sin variantes.
Soy del mundo la insistencia,
la energía, y el desgaste,
la sobrevivencia y la perseverancia.
Soy mujer valiente,
soy flor silvestre,
soy guerrera.
¡Y!
LeydisProse
6/22/2017
https://www.facebook.com/LeydisProse/about/
Jun 22, 2017
Jun 22, 2017 at 11:47 AM UTC
Dilapidation sunk its teeth into you
Shearing off your softer side
Exposing your skeletal essence
Which had cut off calcium from cows
Long ago
Leaving it on the brink of brittleness
As if the blow from a kiss
Would deconstruct to dust
The bones that once bore the strength
To love without fear
Nov 8, 2018
Nov 8, 2018 at 8:08 PM UTC
I’ve traveled further in a night
Than most have a right
Beholden to a darker shade of green
Dare you bask, In a midnight stream
Or expose what these lies have dreamed
Deep in mind, dilapidation or rhyme
In the recesses and dark confines
Splintered fractures and shadows in-kind
Or in tow, or in line
Or exploding in time
I can’t seem to wake up, though I know that I've tried
Feb 2, 2016
Feb 2, 2016 at 12:05 PM UTC
*Returning is a damaged thing.
Ghost of my past are everywhere.
Thinking once that home was immortal,
but we walked on diverging pathways.
Myself as a young man wandering
from humble village life to the wide world.
the village aging in its own decay.
Shattered windows with no one left.
How vast the distance between us
on our divergent paths.
How mortal we both are the old village and I.
Now older grey and mellow my blood flowing
cooler through my veins almost ready to return
to the soil.
As one day I must.
The houses and streets tired now in decay.
weeds growing in their dilapidation.
Roofs covered in brown lichen moss.
Echoes remain of the
children’s joy in far off years.
My thoughts turn to my boyhood.
I must now turn away
and find a quiet place
to add my ashes to the clay.
As I leave the two empty swings remain
hanging from a tree branch.
creak as they oscillate with the breeze
I see a ghost of a young child laughing
I think it is me.*
Aug 26, 2015
Aug 26, 2015 at 5:38 PM UTC
We mourn our final expiration
never realizing,
That we were decaying from
our very first..
Dilapidation upon a
very first breath..
Dying from the moment we were born.
Dec 8, 2017
Dec 8, 2017 at 2:38 PM UTC
I live in a trailer park,
beyond a decade now.
I suppose outside of here,
they're called "mobile" parks.
Here, they're trailer parks.
There is a trailer hitch,
but that ain't pulling this ***** nowhere,
no-how.
Trailers in Juneau, Alaska stand crookedly rectangular,
with a 60s/70s "I wasn't built for this **** tiredness.
Rust, moss, fungus, dirt, cat ****
dilapidation,
all common traits to the TP kingdom.
These are rhomboids with a forceful will
to be real homes, on steel beds with wheels,
propped up on cinder blocks, ambition, and dreams.
Modifications and additions have been nailed, and *******
and glued and affixed in every possible manner conceivable.
An 8x4 plywood laid on a tarp to stop a leak is not a repair, but an
improvement.
These improvements make the mobile into a trailer,
flirting with that trophy ***** ********** called home.
No disrespect.
Expensive, alluring, pay-as-you can,
home **** They'll take you for all your
worth. And smile. And so will you.
Real people **** and make love here.
They die of cancer,
go through pregnancy,
pick their nose,
do math homework,
**********
write poetry,
**********
do ****
mow lawns,
hold children hostage,
make coffee,
help their neighbors,
go to vote,
make art,
***** their neighbors,
dream.
They slide their backs down the walls
of their homes in bouts of sorrow,
turning their guts into fistfuls of rocks
and despair. Heaving out their regrets
in spit and snot and fury.
They all live here.
And so do I.
Mar 9, 2024
Mar 9, 2024 at 2:05 AM UTC