"effete" poems
if words are food for the mind,
then here is a glimpse of mine
if words are drugs for the brain,
then here is why i'm so pained.
abandoned, abhorrent
abnormal, absent
abstract, abuse
addicted, anxious
betray, bitterly
blank, blasphemy
bloodless, breakdown
breathless, brutal
captive, casually
catastrophe, cautiously
change, cigarettes
crucial, clueless
damaged, dangerous
deadly, disastrous
disheartened, disconcerting
dramatic, dreading
eager, eccentric
ecstasy, eerie
effete, effortless
embittered, excess
faded, failure
faintly, fallacy
faltering, fatally
fearfully, finally
garbage, gawky
gibberish, gloomy
gone, goodbye
graphic, gratify
hallucinate, harshly
hazy, heartless
hectic, helpless
hesitant, hit-and-miss
idiotic, idly
ignorant, intimacy
illogical, imaginative
infatuated, intoxicated
jealousy, jittery
journey, journal
joylessly, judicial
junk, juvenile
keen, killing
knavish, knocking
knockout, knotty
knowingly, knowledge
laborious, lacking
lame, languishing
lifeless, literature
lovelorn, lugubrious
madness, maintenance
make-believe, malaise
mean, melancholic
mellow, melodramatic
naff, naivety
nameless, naturally
nauseous, nebulous
neglected, nervous
oasis, objectionable
obliged, obliterate
oblivion, obscurity
obsolete, one-and-only
pacifist, pained
pale, panicky
paradise, paralyze
passionately, passively
raging, ranting
rationalize, raving
realistic, reasonable
rebellious, reckless
saboteur, sadness
sake, sameness
sanity, satisfactory
scar, steady
taint, tangled
tasteless, tearful
telling, temperamental
terror, theoretical
unaffected, uncanny
uncommon, unconsciously
undesirable, uneasy
unfortunate, untidy
vaguely, vanish
vanity, vanquish
versatile, vicious
violence, voracious
waiting, waking
walkout, wanting
wasteful, weary
withering, wrecking
if words are food for the mind,
then you've seen a glimpse of mine
if words are drugs for the brain,
then no wonder i'm so pained.
-djs
Aug 5, 2013
Aug 5, 2013 at 11:21 PM UTC
how many butterflies would it take to hide your smile ?
my love is boundless and yet
i cannot say. it's genius, effete and ill suited
to the task. all the while, my doves pigeon home
with valentines tethered
to sky thin shins
and talons.
more smoke and words
than
spoken atoms.
and nothing else
matters.
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 12:11 PM UTC
What foes or friends do we perceive when we connect by chance conceived?
Would you care to explain how this is my fault?
Pray tell tis Joseph come to his census.
Come nigh so late to what truth evinces.
Four heed own Lay won knot thin kit sis...
Prays got a buff!
Fine uh Lee…
Coarse sit duhs pour ten dove baa doe mens.
Naughty ville purse say! Oar eve in dud ark Om end...
Shell Ira Bjorn ease? Orb headers till yore effete?
Ike ant aft tub Abe eave oar yew yen owe...
Wall oh win knit.
Gore Ida head.
Yuck use amoeba *** is hint umm eye fall tis zit?
Yuck cues amoeba ditz nada tall mite urn toot ache tub lame.
Bub I...
Hope Joe Ill step pup two wit all
Irie lay trill lee dew
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 1:02 PM UTC
For every leaf in Autumn’s fall
A child is lost without recall,
For every song that’s sung for love
A child is whipped by callous glove.
For every latte shared in joy
There’s *** abuse to some small boy,
Each million dollar haul of art
Starvation stills a child’s young heart.
When tears of joy cascade in breeze
A thousand homeless children freeze,
For every morning sunbeam clear
The cloud descends on some child’s fear.
For every excess we consume
Mass underprivelaged children loom,
Blond beauties all attired in red
Unwanted babies left for dead.
Massive plenty for the few
Dispossessed small children *******
Privelaged cold concience clear
Little feet bequeathed the fear.
Global sympathy won’t change
‘Till effete thinking rearranged,
Sanity shall not transform
‘Till WOMAN leaders are the norm.
Marshalg
For the lost legions in our midst.
20 July 2011
Jul 19, 2011
Jul 19, 2011 at 4:41 PM UTC
Thank you.
Thank you for carrying me,
against the wind, the jagged rocks and tainted floorboards.
Thank you for enduring,
the pain, the burden, and heat.
In sadness and in grief,
I torture you, standing, waiting, depleting you of your vitality.
In happiness,
I dance, prance, shake, and run,
I oversee your longevity, as you harden to sustain
my happiness.
All that's left,
is an impression, an imprint in the sand that trails behind.
Effete and tired,
I thank you, my feet,
for carrying me through it all.
Mar 19, 2021
Mar 19, 2021 at 2:51 PM UTC
there is this certain house
call it the beach house
once a well-worn respite,
it's quaint disrepair no longer charms
sands that once barely dared
brush against the steps
victory dance over the porch
and through the warped, unclosed door
as it hangs nearly unhinged
passersby notice
much as hazy eyed prostitutes
stare thru effete johns
from that absent mind place
where it wouldn't occur
to look inside
Dec 18, 2011
Dec 18, 2011 at 3:20 PM UTC
What is it with the Americans-?
With their endless cups of “Joe”
Starbucks on every corner
At least it seems that’s so.
Those who overdose on coffee
Are always on the “go”
With palpitating heart beats
And hands that shake like so.
Billions of cups consumed yearly,
The landfills awash with debris
If only my Dad had a Styrofoam mine
Imagine how rich we would be.
Chocolate is much more civilized;
antioxidant rich and sweet.
They say it’s a mild aphrodisiac
and a laxative for the effete.
Those people addicted to coffee
Wake up “Grumpy and groaning”
While those folks addicted to chocolate
can be sure they’ll be coming and going..
Dec 29, 2011
Dec 29, 2011 at 8:32 AM UTC
Deceit and conceit are concrete.
Raven’s feet patter over the gutters,
the sewers beneath the street secrete
a pungent odor similar to raw meat.
Families strolling past shutter and mutter,
feeling elite plagued by their own effete.
-AM
Jan 16, 2016
Jan 16, 2016 at 12:06 AM UTC
Ibykos Fragment 286, circa 564 BCE
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Come spring, the grand
apple trees stand
watered by a gushing river
where the maidens’ uncut flowers shiver
and the blossoming grape vine swells
in the gathering shadows.
Unfortunately
for me
Eros never rests
but like a Thracian tempest
ablaze with lightning
emanates from Aphrodite;
the results are frightening—
black,
bleak,
astonishing,
violently jolting me from my soles
to my soul.
Preposterous Eros
by Michael R. Burch
“Preposterous Eros” – Patricia Falanga
Preposterous Eros shot me in
the buttocks, with a Devilish grin,
spent all my money in a rush
then left my heart effete pink mush.
Keywords/Tags: Ibykos, fragment, translation, Eros, Aphrodite, Thracian, tempest, lightning, jolt, soul, spring, apple, trees, river, flowers, grape, vine, shadows
Apr 7, 2020
Apr 7, 2020 at 6:02 AM UTC
Beetles creep & earthworms writhe
In soil and leafage mould
Where men, in towers' ivory
Broach loud and souls are sold.
Honesty and purity
Enflower places plain
But pompousness and leather hearts
Merely promulgate distain.
Distancing the words, effete,
Conjure portals cold
Whilst wallowing in self esteem
Seldom glints of gold.
Instead the psalms of simple chime
The bells of true release,
Where meek and mild and unposessed
sweat blood and bleed for peace.
Where the stroke of brush, unfettered,
Lets the masterpiece unfold,
And children sit enthralled, only,
When tales of truth are told.
M.
Jun 9, 2019
Jun 9, 2019 at 5:36 PM UTC
A barren home,
but not of things,
where silence wanders
curiously
down the empty halls.
"Who's there?"
She stands to peek
through door ajar
at the dust ::BOOM::
on the floor. ::BOOM::
Nothing's stirred
and all's in place
and all is still
but subject’s face:
fieldstone hues
and wrinkles too.
A desol't eve
in fickle blue,
she’s marching dusk
with throated heart.
Purpled cirri
and pinholes white
high above her
stalwart ceiling.
Shunted thought.
Listless thunder.
Turn on heel
to pinioned sleep;
a reeling sanct,
an effete lover.
Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 10:11 AM UTC
1.
I’m climbing hills today
in one, effete poet’s way
they could be metaphors
for all sorts of ‘big life things’
but in another, my belly
is about to give my knees
some trouble
2.
The sepia on this one’s different
there was sometimes bitterness
in steps made here
as the lure of the theme park rides
sat so near
but the years have done a lot
to replace the roller coaster thrill
with the heart weight of hills,
dales and rivers with tales to tell
3.
You remember I mentioned
the metaphor?
And the belly troubling the knees?
Well these things came to pass
as I hauled my carcass up the hill
turning the air blue
The metaphor? Decisions
that once were natural,
easy like breathing
now can feel laboured, burdened
when a step is placed
how can I be sure the ground will hold?
Even at the peak, where I once
could exhale at the majesty of a job well done
I’m now fraught with the thought
of the journey down
4.
This river is different
at home the stream accompanies me
on local walks, showing me the known
and keeping my chin up
Here, the bold broadness of the river
hides secrets and speaks in a deeper tongue
coarse fish, familiar to me
are replaced by those that anglers prize
I am both lost and a little more alive
5.
Looking into the faces
of teenagers dressed for town centres,
either striding ahead
or shambling behind
parents intent on extolling
the virtues of fresh air and nature
while feeling strangely out of breath at the climb
closer in, the adolescent eyes show
a plethora of emotion
contempt, depression, longing
utter conviction that life is happening
somewhere, anywhere else
but if I may offer some advice: relent
as in a few blurred years
you’ll succumb to the same fossilisation
and will need some routes to remember
Aug 25, 2021
Aug 25, 2021 at 1:50 PM UTC
we are clockwork creatures
with phantasmagoric features
precisely ground and divinely wound,
we measured movements, prosaic and sublime
our cogged kingdom, cherished chunks of time
our ticking, a marching machination
our faces, a reflection of the lost
a prediction of the found
we now make simpering sounds
on our path to rust
made obsolete by the silicon effete,
the cyber elite, that-which-who
never succumb to rust, or join us
in our reverent return
to dust
Dec 17, 2012
Dec 17, 2012 at 5:42 PM UTC
Why do we strive to be effete
If the sum of all is fear?
Fear that they shall rob us blind
Of all kept near and dear.
Why then do we strut and preen
When fortune smiles our way?
For the dire sum of equals scream
That envy rules the day.
What seeks the strata here
But to keep the fools contained?
For the eventual sum is the end of a gun
And a simmering hate, retained.
Human nature comes and goes
But one rule reigns supreme
That rich is right and poor is wrong
With nada in between.
God may intervene here
The good Disciples say
But internecine battle
Determines Faith has seen its’ day.
So what’s around the corner
In mankind’s vicious romp
But visceral disenchantment
Singing vengeance for the mob?
Or a mass incarceration
With holocaust entombed???
With either joust…. Just futile
For humanity is doomed.
M.
29 November 2018
Nov 28, 2018
Nov 28, 2018 at 11:10 PM UTC
To my mate Stevo....with love
‘Tis perilous, Sir, to write our thoughts to paper,
To commit our living words to those unknown,
For regardless of the flair expressed in writing all with care
The interpretation’s different to each clone.
What may be black and white and clear as crystal,
To others may diffuse as shades of grey
And the message, though succinct, may be read as challenge brink-ed
To confuse and collapse in disarray.
Oh the agony and the ecstasy of we writers
Is best captured in the rolling of the dice
For to script all saccharin sweet may be interpreted as… effete?
But a dour approach won’t be observed as nice!
Yet to lay about with broadsword is defeatist
And collapsing belly up implies a lie,
So perhaps the best refrain is to abstain from all the pain
And leave the ****** prose to fools who don’t care… why?
Marshalg
In absentia….again!
18 October 2013
Oct 18, 2013
Oct 18, 2013 at 2:38 AM UTC
Ibykos Fragment 286, circa 564 BCE
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Come spring, the grand
apple trees stand
watered by a gushing river
where the maidens’ uncut flowers shiver
and the blossoming grape vine swells
in the gathering shadows.
Unfortunately
for me
Eros never rests
but like a Thracian tempest
ablaze with lightning
emanates from Aphrodite;
the results are frightening—
black,
bleak,
astonishing,
violently jolting me from my soles
to my soul.
Keywords/Tags: Ibykos, fragment, translation, Eros, Aphrodite, Thracian, tempest, lightning, jolt, soul, spring, apple, trees, river, flowers, grape, vine, shadows
Preposterous Eros
by Michael R. Burch
“Preposterous Eros” – Patricia Falanga
Preposterous Eros shot me in
the buttocks, with a Devilish grin,
spent all my money in a rush
then left my heart effete pink mush.
Apr 5, 2020
Apr 5, 2020 at 3:39 AM UTC
A crushed Shah Jahan said:
When you behold the memorial,
a sight so masterly, yet sorrowful;
you will inevitably admit
an aching little bisecting wish
that adorns your yearning lips....
parched,
barren,
effete......
And from the world's lid,
the luminaries too
would sob and drip.
#
He could well have been talking
about my beloved's words ;
......so utterly breathtaking
that a sigh poignantly quivers
in my dithering being.
Her words meander.
It is no wonder:
for all of us saunter
in thought and speech
one time or the other.
At times her words are poised and easy.....,
wonderfully jolly, sensationally starry:
They shimmer like the four minarets (1)
on the full moon night;
....brilliant......resplendent.
Then they taper from the dome
and stop halfway between the tomb
and the solemn reflecting pool:
They are calmer, sober,
and you know,
a little factual;
...what they call discriminating
intellectual, rational......
Soon the words leave charbagh (2)
and hit the red sandstone walls (3)
crenellated with flawless wisdom;
spotlessly beautiful
like the lifeless marble
that proudly commemorates
Mr. Shah Jahan's love
in grim, cold blooded grace.
We talk about
riders and scruples,
kith and kin,
restraints and constraints,
fidelity and modesty.......
....and I can not help
but to sadly agree
to the placid logic
in our impeccable scripts.
#
Logic is a wonderful remedy
for the radical and foolhardy
but for every cure,
there is a spin-off.
Deep somewhere,
a delicate,
two-cent sentiment
collapses into atrophy
and.......silently
another part of me
becomes a
meek monument
of disposable history.
----------
(1) The four minarets of the Taj Mahal
(2) The garden that starts from the end of the main gateway and ends near the squared base of the mausoleum is an integral part of the Taj Mahal structure.
(3) The building material used is brick-in-lime mortar veneered with red sandstone and marble and inlay work of precious/semi precious stones. The mosque and the guest house in the Taj Mahal complex are built of red sandstone in contrast to the marble tomb in the center.
Nov 11, 2019
Nov 11, 2019 at 10:27 PM UTC
I cower before the ordinary
the extraordinary, the effete.
and the gorgeous. Cowering
is matter of fact
heart and tact.
I cower before the mighty
the Almighty
the mammal and the animal
cowerinng is a way of life
full of rife.
We all cower.
I cower in front of the altar
walk the ways of the Tartar
cowering is a way of life.
full of rife, full of rife.
Oct 20, 2015
Oct 20, 2015 at 1:27 PM UTC
Watching Homer struggle
to explain how a god wounded by a mortal
cannot die but may hereafter live with minor pain
and the humor when that god
complains to Jove that His supervision of His daughter
is inadequate and His Love too unconditional
while Diomed (or Tydides)
wreaks havoc on the Trojans and Hector
gives it back (in kind)
anatomically correct descriptions
of spears piercing jawbones (and groins)
sons without fathers hunting and fishing thereafter
alone. Written
amazingly presciently!
as a metaphor for Vietnam (our war)
forgotten consensually
as this generation slips lazily away
to Hades (or kayaks to the huckleberries)
where the lights are always blue, gentian actually,
supper's served at 4 and former adversaries
pass the heavy hanging time playing pinochle (and pool).
We're selling the house to pay the taxes.
Pallas Athena wars among the men
from the axle of her chariot
and Venus is injured by Diomed,
standing in the field of battle where she never should have been,
in her adorable hand.
What has this to do with Solomon in jail.
Not the Jewish king, a black American male,
same thing.
Your children can be failed at school and marched to war.
You can be taxed and sent to gaol for the honor of it.
anyone lived in a pretty how town.
We have no obligation
to perform the Iliad or read poems and even Homer
considers Achilles effete (compared to Hector)
and Odysseus is wrong even when he's right.
Therefore, modern man explores
the mathematics of circles in coordinate planes and their tangents
when (sooner or later)
the secret of warp speed is discovered
expansion of the species will be limitless and permanent.
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 5:09 PM UTC
Snatched in betwixt'
The Shifting
and Switching
All midst the alters..
and moods..
The hasty cyclone..
The Rapid cycling..
The Stumbling..
The hurling..
One after other
All these emotions'
transposing-
From exhilaration.
grandiosity.
The loquacious episodes..
To Exasperation.
Despondency.
Despise.
Remorse.
The floating. dripping.salty..rampage.
And
amid all frantic..
all the chaos..
There..
this effete voidness..
Gleaning selves up'
unhanding 'em again
Gleaning.
Unhanding.
Gleaning And unhanding .
Over and over
Again
Jun 2, 2017
Jun 2, 2017 at 8:46 AM UTC
Alone in this world, yet surrounded by friends
All worried about following the latest trends
But not me, I want to be free from odds and ends
The best styles depend on what the media says
They handpick the physically elite to place in a close-up lens
All calculated deceit, if you fall behind you’ll end up in the back seat
Now anyone can be elegant, employing technology to cheat
Revamped appearances are now displayed on our main streets
Transforming young girls views to make them feel incomplete
Natural beauty is harder to come by, morphing us to an effete society
Notoriety is easier to achieve, our adoration alters confidence to anxiety
I now question our propriety; forced variety plagues our high society
They extort and contort the public’s image to be shown on public transport
Deciding who wears it the best will soon become a contact sport
I fear for our culture, even the most allure now sells themselves short
One day this all may change, but for now the homely get a larger sentence in court
Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 4:14 PM UTC
Everyday I wake with a pain,
Forever in my chest, it will rein
The feeling so cold, it freezes my soul
A payment I must give, a living toll
I have never felt so alone
In those few seconds that are known
So many before me have lived this lie
That life is some mysterious high
But for the rest, each day is a test
To see who will overcome being suppressed
Living a life of lies and deceit
Trying to be accepted, but becoming effete
Some people that have lost all hope become weak
Giving in to the decision to perish, they die in defeat
Those critical seconds of choice
One of the few moments when some have a voice
They could decide to just give up and die
Or to choose to continue prospering and fly
Or curl in a ball of loneliness and sorrow
Questioning their life and hating tomorrow
I wish I were saved from this life changing decision
So I know there is some sort of provision
Stopping me from losing hope and ending it all
I want to die when the time is right, a willing fall.
Aug 8, 2015
Aug 8, 2015 at 10:54 AM UTC
If I were Newland Archer
What would I now do with my love?
Would I torment her, ask impossible things,
Surrender to her irrational command
And let the others make my future plans?
Oh no! My beloved Ellen was wrong!
To think that I could stay the course,
That marriage could end like a closing door,
And leave the future in May’s serpentine hands.
This time, if such a chance were given me,
What would I do to make safe our love?
I would give up all I had thought so dear,
My frivolous books, effete pursuits, so she could be near.
I was unworthy, the first time, I know.
I consented to her feeling that I must go.
But now I would re-arrange my life, dare any disdain
Just to kiss her wrist in unfounded faith.
Would I again leave my Love if told to choose?
No! I was weak before, thinking that I had no chance.
Yes, oh, yes! How could I ever bear to lose
My Ellen and our enchanted dance?
I know I have wronged those who trusted me,
But don’t blame the unwitting authoress of my woe!
For it was my own frailty that blinded me,
My disregard for those things that
Any man with a heart should know.
I see now that if to May’s wish I did not bend,
She would see my surrender was great to me but small to her,
She would find another, as resolute women do under duress.
And instead of a false life, Ellen, I could be alive with you!
-------------------------
Written if Newland Archer (of the novel "Age of Innocence") had listened to no one and abandoned not only the wife who shanghaied him into domestic servitude, but his own priggish insistence on doing the “right” thing for the wrong reasons.
Semi-finished, June 19, 2011
Sharon Talbot
Mar 28, 2019
Mar 28, 2019 at 11:35 AM UTC
A deep and sprawling swell
Crept its fingers deep and well
Around my stomach as it fell,
And rose. Each breath a tell,
She's alive. She is well.
Despite a heart that ceased to beat,
Molded to tawny and rusted to effete,
That despite all attention and treat
Leaked a pussing and steady gleat
That could not help but secrete.
Though I wrapped wrapped my wounds with my hair
Where once hands grasped my neck, wet and bare,
Cocooning deep in skin without care
while I, unaware,
Opened lips and gasped in ecstasy. Or despair
As he shut my mouth, shut my eyes.
Made me convert, communed and baptized.
In making me what he wants, made me what he despised.
Leaves me, but one kiss and leaves, and my heart dies.
****** from the start for what I not knew,
Now I'm ****** for what I do.
A knowledge i never sought to accrue,
Wasted. Through.
****** by me for being ****** by you.
May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 6:36 PM UTC