"dubiety" poems
I’m walking up hilltop, two men pass, one says,
'Fuck the French, they never have the bottle for a fight’.
To have got here they passed the old Cathedral.
Did they glimpse it as a relic - exploded by incendiary,
ostracised in dubiety, seen fit to feature
only in the focus and snap of foreign tourists?
It is two days before Ramadan. Tonight Tornados
will tear between the Euphrates and Tigris
to illuminate Babylon... live on CNN.
At the top of the hill I pause,
staring at stained glass fragments
still suspended in the apex of frames
and view snacking office workers,
seated upon the benches that have replaced the pews.
Mar 31, 2010
Mar 31, 2010 at 12:30 PM UTC
Through voracious eyes devotees, peruse writings, clever literature all styled to thoughtful poetic ways
eloquently, exposing wounds of body and soul, discovered distrust, anger much regret, sadly even fear,
thereto shortcomings in life, of people, their actions, loves and lies promulgated in illuminating phrase.
Technology endows contributors with outlets for venting suchlike occasions using artistry is here.
Passionate poignant experiences most well written, some not are duly shared to attracted communal eyes.
declarations of 'I have cared so much I'm wounded mortally', some bask in lost or unrequited loves last kiss,
several employ inner strength 'whatever happened, I don't care, I'm resilient, I survive', shared with poetic pride
concise verses rework obvious reminders, may motivate suggestion that opportunity shouldn't be missed.
Modest words abundantly profound begin remarks that reassures, with the - I'm here for yous'- symbolic embrace,
in support it is written, 'I know what you mean' and from a great distance - empathise, but I have little to say.
Health issues aren't fixed by artistic pennings, only face to face professional advice forms the strongest base,
Writings from the poetic inner self may become positive steps, for futures not, staring in depressions face.
Much is written with sensitivity oft-times is judged by content, overlooked is why and how it is composed.
For instance suicide educes fear however. dubiety invites, is it fiction or truly despair?
Writing as an art observes, describes, creates imagery, of sadness and joy, escapism, fictional or no.
Poetic creators who web-wide commune through stories, thoughts, secrets, ideas, dreams, let the poetry be shared .
Poetry www Michael C Crowder 12th January 2019 @scorsby
Mar 3, 2019
Mar 3, 2019 at 9:16 AM UTC
I have a Bleeding Soul
A soul that thrives off apathy
A soul that withers in dubiety
A soul that was once filled with the joy
The never ceasing joy
The undeterminable youth
The stringent yet flourishing confidence
All gone
One drop at a time
It was a pain to love all too well
However not wisely
The subconscious suspects the false
A single lie
Fade to black
Strangled in the dark
No hand to pull you up
To slowly emerge from the darkness
From a single lie
For a soul to be filled with joy again
The subconscious suspects
Mental torture
Reflex ambiguity
As the cut gets deeper
The blood gets darker
One drop at a time
One word at a time
One sorrow at a time
I'm sorry I loved you too well
But not wisely forever more
I bandage the wound but the blood still rebels
I have a Bleeding Soul
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 11:24 PM UTC
The wages of sin is nothing but death,
And from Adam's fall this became our fate.
God's son was given in man's stead,
As a ransom to redeem us from hell's gate.
Love for my kind led Christ to Calvary,
Our sins nailed Him to the old rugged cross;
Who was entombed in that sanctuary,
Where His resurrection became death's loss.
Yet amongst men are some in dubiety,
Living in constant doubt like Thomas of old;
Who believed in Christ the risen Deity,
After touching His nail pierced hand as told.
But blessed is that man who will believe
Without beholding those nail pierced wounds;
The same for eternity shall surely live
On that fateful day when the trumpet sounds.
To escape eternal death and damnation,
Those nail pierced hands till date still beckon;
"My Father wished none condemnation,
But that you believe and be saved this second."
May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 7:30 AM UTC
As wasted sunlight drops upon the skin of atoms,
I sigh limpid ghosts along hell’s diamond eyes.
Out they shake with gusts of dubiety.
Ouch!
The glow ignites my wintered skin.
The rarest turns to pain again,
Yet, I am safe in lush calm sin.
I wish to saunter home again.
- I wish to feel at home again.
She is my home,
But she is not where home is.
When will home wander to me?
We’ll set the breadth aflame
And expose what lies in the ashes between us.
Dancing,
Until our flesh turns white.
Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 2:59 PM UTC
She woke up sick.
Her wooden limbs drenched with bound torment.
Her eyes merely mirrors of dubiety, marked by soft insecurity encased.
Her skin now bleached.
Her mind framed by Cassiopeia.
Contrails of vanity laced with discontent on her skin
An evanescence of admirers taunts her,
Yet only if her veil is worn too thin.
She knows.
Only an ethereal countenance will please them.
Obsession linked by 4 shattering chains,
5 imaginary bonds.
Unbeknownst to her, imaginary until she
Boasts of her infatuation.
Her lips are thin.
Then her bones sag heavy
Still sat on her mordant throne.
She is once again asleep.
Appeased by dreamy seas
littered with artificial palm leaves.
Apr 4, 2018
Apr 4, 2018 at 7:05 AM UTC
It’s not like it matters,
No one will think twice.
These disposable efforts mean so much to us,
And, at times, we cherish them too.
Though the higher you climb,
The worse off most are,
For the toll, is indeed, a high one.
It’s not that you’ll fall,
(Though soon, you may welcome that),
But near what’s rumored to be the top,
You’ll find, you’re often alone.
So finding an average,
A cool medium,
Has become all but uncommon,
But even so, what’s to come,
Of those few who actually challenge the gods?
For what sort of blessings do lay still?
Far is it from Dubiety,
Though equally close,
We expect too much, and leave room for displeasure.
We bring it upon ourselves.
Then I had a thought, why the way of humans?
But why not the way of all life permitting?
How not someone revered could leave life unnoticed,
Yet someone exalted should be saved,
Truly leaves long trenches in the pit of my stomach,
Due to lacking a notion of why;
Why it is we strive so hard; And if for immortality,
Then for what sake and by who are we granted this perquisite?
What Blessings were laid on the lives of those,
Whose memory would outlast the Earth,
Really made worth of a mortal’s own time,
More so then any such swings of the hands?
For what even is our own worth?
As when his eyes fail to save him,
Upon what would that broken man fall?
Naught but more than his own disparity,
Wedged between black reality and his own thoughts.
Forlorn, despairing, and void of all sense,
He collapses, deader than dead.
I shudder to dismiss this, (or any) conflict,
Away as I would a cobweb;
But he who detects the flaws of himself
Before do his enemies,
Will end up much stronger than those opposed,
As he already severed his soul.
Nov 17, 2010
Nov 17, 2010 at 8:01 AM UTC
I cannot breathe, for the raindrops pester the sound of the memories that slowly fade away.
I cannot lie, for I have not yet ascertained whether the floor will hold me.
I cannot embrace
What is not there
Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 11:25 AM UTC
A ruffled heart, an unsettled soul
The Almighty's kept her off the dole
'Why are you silent, mighty Lord?
Assure me, the universe acts per your accord'
She sauntered slowly down the street
Smiling at her loved ones, keeping life's misgivings discreet
She could feel the pain gently seeping in,
A scathing body, and a dubiety-clenched heart within
Of lost love and dead men they talk
Her agony of vacillations is why then put in a dock?
‘Smile, my dear heart’, she cried
There ain’t no world for the dreary-eyed
As the achy moments turned into uncurious days
Like mayflowers, new truths radiated
In her anxious ears, He gently whispered
‘Told you so, my dearest; T’you I shall always give the best’
Her heart triumphed, as His misty aura slowly unblocked
And slowly she rejoiced with every new truth unlocked
On fresh green lawns, she now runs
Ahoy! See there - a fortress of faith and new spring suns
Feb 3, 2019
Feb 3, 2019 at 11:12 PM UTC
I just cant seem to slip this funk
I can mask it with some junk, or some friends
Sitting in a haze, in my own minds maze of dubiety
While people laugh around me, I try to laugh too
The smile on my face is to please you, its just not true
To how I am really feeling on the inside
I could explain the feeling as numb
I could explain the feeling as hardened
And the dumb things friends say are instantly pardoned
Because they just want me happy, and hopeful for something more
I just wait for peace of mind, and rest because
This funk continually ends my days, and starts my "mourning's"
Jun 7, 2018
Jun 7, 2018 at 9:45 AM UTC
When would you leave if you wanted to arrive,
Where would you stay if you sought to move,
where is the start if you want to end it all,
and which of your ends, would you start anew.
How would you know when all is in vain.
Or in senseless vanity, would you hold onto pain.
If given many paths would instead choose to stay,
Or with an end unknown would you walk away.
In the sounds of the world do you hear a silence,
With the birth of the new do you not sense the old,
For though contrasts they are, in eyes not the same,
But with each step or in the lack of it, in circles you go.
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 10:20 AM UTC
Your jurisdiction ends over my veil
You are nobody to rule on my zeal
This limited sovereignty is mine
Where I am free to cry or peal
Don't let your dubiety ask me
If I am leal to your creel.
May 21, 2020
May 21, 2020 at 6:56 PM UTC
One more swell now motionless,
Realness from afar,
Drifting pointlessly,
Into a world of dubiety and falling stars.
The apprehension of letting go,
A fount of cognizance and angst,
With advents of dawn,
Seeing through the night, to no more be recast,
A future, said to reflect the age,
Alight, yet dimming anew,
Abaft the scud of clouds,
Burning itself out – the sun that never quite withdrew.
May 24, 2025
May 24, 2025 at 6:35 PM UTC
Piety and sobriety.
In our society.
Variety, propriety.
Our society.
Dubiety.
Society.
Notoriety.
Nov 27, 2018
Nov 27, 2018 at 5:50 PM UTC
twilight in delight
move with sun or stay with moon -
blushed sky painting red
Aug 4, 2020
Aug 4, 2020 at 12:36 AM UTC
We live life in the fast lane,
trading our privacy for a false sense of social interaction.
We maintain online personas that mask our true identities,
projecting our idea of a perfect life onto the virtual world,
hoping it, in return, would rain accolades upon us.
Dubiety lurks in the shadows, visitng us in our dreams,
feeds off of our fears and struggles.
Latching unshakeably onto our consciousness,
dubiety carves its way into our very heart,
corrupting, destroying.
Carpe diem, you'd often hear from
the fools who live in the now,
and the blind who possess neither a future,
nor a past worth recalling.
Dubiety, the not knowing, the uncertainty,
the fear of failure, the lack of guarantees.
Leap of faith? Perhaps such leap is what we all need.
I know it's what I do.
Feb 22, 2017
Feb 22, 2017 at 3:38 PM UTC
My Unassisted heart
Cannot able to vanish the scars
Which is settled in your depth of the mind.
Apr 3, 2019
Apr 3, 2019 at 7:35 AM UTC
it all began with your beguiling smile
and how you embellish your words with butterflies
with your innocuous intentions and riveting mien
for you to stir chaos,
who would even surmise?
with our arms linked,
we traversed the course of life
through its murky alleys and iridescent lanes
we've wandered through the secluded regions of our souls
and found solace in each other's names.
i often think this pact is too good to be true
never have i been this attached to someone
albeit the heightening waves of ambivalence
on your love,
inebriated i've become.
my head, once cleared of clouds of dubiety
(you left me in this trap!)
now came to realize
i'm shackled to loving thee for perpetuity
and it all leads to my demise.
Sep 9, 2018
Sep 9, 2018 at 12:54 AM UTC
Can't you feel it
It is in the aura
The panic and dubiety
Everything is shutting down
Our schools , malls and what not !
For it is corona
A blazing flame
Engulfing everything
And everyone in its way
The world calling for SPACING
That spacing which is vain
For the people of our motherland
When it comes to show up
The funeral of a warrior
With ultra attendants
Jolting with eachother
And approaching the dais
To have the glimpse
Of the warrior
For whom , the fear is unknown
He is not scared of death !
Crested helmet , drawn sword
" For the motherland "
Apr 22, 2020
Apr 22, 2020 at 1:23 AM UTC
You owe me laughters
A cup of coffee shared with blended souls, poured in strong bonds
Conversations surround my floating thoughts
Clement aurora swirls in starry dooms
Acquainted to the bitter scathing dreams
You owe me a mother’s touch
The freedom of dubiety
A prayer
Not on your nelly, I am forgiving you.
Aug 24, 2021
Aug 24, 2021 at 3:05 PM UTC
She watched the fall leaves wilt as their last form of revolution
The natural human intuition is to seek warmth from loved ones and as the bones beyond flesh shiver there’s a longing for some type of comfort
He felt like a child’s tiptoes in tiled floor, unexpectedly and purely
The type of euphoric revelation you’d never expect
It all comes as a surprise, you see, when nothing is expected of the unknown
When there’s nothing to lose and everything to gain
Until the heart feels too fondly then a weight on your soul leaves you breathing but demands every movement to be agonizing
This blind rage, so to speak, leaves her to be bitter such as the leaves when they fall in autumn’s coming
Cold, harsh, uncertain
The branches on trees look like the veins of his hands before gently caressing hers
A beautiful entanglement
One she hopes will be covered by winters harsh dubiety
Oct 26, 2018
Oct 26, 2018 at 9:29 PM UTC
his hand rests heavy on my leg
as if someone has threatened to
steal me away from his embrace
our trust is in the basement
locked away in solitude....
sometimes when he's away
i sneak it prayers under the doorway
grips on my arm become too tight
when he discovers my clandestine doings
"you don't deserve trust"
he screams with his eyes
i put on the perfect smile
he wants me to have, but
my soul craves freedom
from these chains i've allowed
it to call home for so long
i asked him how much longer
we would allow ourselves to
drown in each other's dubiety
but he didn't understand my metaphor,
so he locked me away too, leaving me
only with sanguine whispers between
me and what never got a chance to truly be....
Mar 30, 2018
Mar 30, 2018 at 11:13 PM UTC
Uniformity and flowers
Laughter and dining table decorations
Little kids running
The Sweet Sixteens burning papers
Elderly and their disease
Cold tea in orange plastic cups
Singing and clothing with a dash of conceit
I had drawn to its close
Dubiety is up in the air
What are we thinking of?
I did not ask for any
And I've always wanted to know
Regarding of what should I have a fancy for
Babbling with the most incoherent argot
How long will it last?
We are not lacking any of it
As if we cry out for more
Wearing this tight red dress is tiresome
Might raise many questions
I found the final dialogue withal
Dissolving into none
Jul 16, 2021
Jul 16, 2021 at 11:52 AM UTC