"encroached" poems
A scuba diver, head first like a dolphin,
goes in to the ocean, 100 feet down
in semi-darkness finds this apparition
something beautiful to behold in motion,
really really big and mysterious it appears
gliding gracefully spewing wonderment,
inviting reverence from all kinds of marine life
Clearly apologetic, for being out of place,
though he has encroached, in to a world
though not far from the sea surface,
yet in a depth where human has no place
all his scientific temper got evaporated
a simple villager now, gripped by wonder.
All he could think of anyone
fitting in to such magnificence
was God Almighty,himself.
"How do you do God?" he stutters,
aware that in plankton filled darkness
the mighty man is at the mercy of
the behemoth, looming large above.
The phenomenon in question,
***** whale"as we know him,
smiles and burps happily "Fantastic"
then he dives 6000 feet down, looking
for a colossal squid, succulent to be sure
the whole reason for him to play God
at this depth for sea creatures that lose
bearing in the haze of challenging depths.
Mar 12, 2016
Mar 12, 2016 at 5:59 AM UTC
lulling comfort of uninterrupted sleep subsides
replaced with an involuntary state of sedation
the emergence of an all too familiar presence
paralyzed by the force of a lingering sensation
choking internalized fear
timeless inaudible cries for help
unknown visitor condemning you to an everlasting silence
physical horror encroached the night
a lone passenger aboard an eternal voyage
bound for relief from this crippling fear of uncontrollable stillness
remaining prisoner to this petrified state
concrete walls of stirring madness
hallucinations of strange alien formations
faceless entities strike infinite fear
in the core foundation of sleep tonight.
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 7:13 PM UTC
I know that you look up to me;
For one, because I'm six feet tall,
But I think that I have done my best,
To keep you safe -- away from all,
The little things that ****** me up.
For you are young: with scathing tongue,
Opinions you cannot express,
A lack of words,
And fear of hurt,
And are yet to fully comprehend
The singing of your encaged thoughts.
But listen to me little sister,
I cannot be your wall forever,
For, one day, you will draw your sword
And embark upon your own endeavour,
To quell the beasts that hide within.
You will only ever need these words,
And the gumption to unleash their rage,
To part the seas of social norms,
To dispute the words on any page,
But I warn you; they bring trouble.
For one day, little sister, I
Will lie a living corpse in bed,
Encroached upon by inner beasts,
Of longing, love and loneliness,
But I assure you, you are safe.
For I was one who did not speak --
Until the world was tucked in bed;
So when the world lends you its ear,
Discard the lines that they want read --
And tell them what your brother said:
**** YOU.
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 4:27 PM UTC
Rays of the morning sun
Encroached the attic
From a very notorious
Broken piece of window
Exposed the little specks of dust
Suspended
In the rotting wooden walls.
Some sticking in the peeling paint
Some lying
On her mother's once famous cookbooks
Now being devoured
By selfish
silverfish and fungi.
The dust
Telling stories of her childhood
Settled upon the rocking horse
And her favourite little music box
And a carton full of holiday polaroids.
The dust
Such a dry commodity
Moistened some old memories.
Reminiscence.
Isn't it amazing?
Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 1:23 PM UTC
812
A Light exists in Spring
Not present on the Year
At any other period—
When March is scarcely here
A Color stands abroad
On Solitary Fields
That Science cannot overtake
But Human Nature feels.
It waits upon the Lawn,
It shows the furthest Tree
Upon the furthest Slope you know
It almost speaks to you.
Then as Horizons step
Or Noons report away
Without the Formula of sound
It passes and we stay—
A quality of loss
Affecting our Content
As Trade had suddenly encroached
Upon a Sacrament.
2.6k
The beach swept away in the distance,
The tide as far out as could be,
A couple were laughing and playing there,
She’d cuffed him, in fun, to a tree,
‘Now that isn’t fair, Isabella,’
He’d laughed, as she danced in the sand,
‘You’re going to be mine, Richard Andrew Devine
Or forever be tied to the land.’
She taunted and teased and annoyed him,
He said, ‘I just want to be free!’
She spun on the sand and she held out her hand
And she laughed as she dangled the key.
‘You can stay ‘til I hear your proposal,
It’s like squeezing out blood from a stone,
If you fail to propose, this relationship’s closed
And I’ll leave you out here on your own.’
‘We’ve talked about this, Isabella,
And you know it can’t possibly be,
I’m already wed, when you came to my bed…
For God’s sake, just throw me the key!’
‘You know that you’ve never been happy,
With her, or with all of her friends,
It’s time you got rid of the lot of them,
It’s time you were making amends.’
‘I said at the start, Isabella,
That a fling was the most it could be,’
A shadow passed over his worried brow
As he looked at the incoming sea.
‘That might have been in the beginning,
But you know it’s gone further than that,
I’m having your child, did you know, in a while
And I’ll not have you leaving me flat.’
The sweat had burst out on his fevered brow
As the water encroached on the sand,
‘Did you know we’re beneath the high water mark,
In an hour or so, I’ll be drowned!’
‘The choice becomes yours, you must get a divorce
Or I’ll just walk away and be free.
There’s no going back, I’m determined in that,
I’ll be walking away with the key.’
The sea was beginning to lap at his feet,
And she to retreat as it came,
Then suddenly she was beginning to sink
While crying that he was to blame.
In seconds she’d sunk in the sand to her waist
In terror she cried, ‘Rescue me!’
But he was restrained by a half inch of chain,
‘For God’s sake, just throw me the key!’
‘How do I know that you won’t walk away
And just leave me to sink in the sand?’
‘I wouldn’t do that, just throw me the key
Or we’ll both become part of the land!’
She’d sunk to her shoulders at this point in time
And she struggled to pull out her arm,
Then raised it on high and she let the key fly
As they both held their breath, in alarm.
‘I’ve told her I want a divorce,’ he cried,
As the key fell just short of his reach,
‘And I lost the baby a week ago,’
She cried, to her neck in the beach.
They stared at each other as she sank from sight
Then the water rose over his head,
As a little gold key, was swept by the sea
To a hand that was already dead.
David Lewis Paget
Jul 8, 2013
Jul 8, 2013 at 9:50 PM UTC
Laying in bed today, listening to tunes
As I so often do
A feeling encroached, one I could not shake
Or attempt to lose
The sound of sadness, through the microphone
Blew the dust from my aging bones
Sunlight diffused, into the tomb
Of my desolate room
Shadows scattered, from their thrones
To reveal four walls of stone
Flowers dressed, this cold gray place
Where I woke from rest
Bare and unburdened, my blemished fleshed took its first steps
Bent but not broken, rebirthed, awoken
Jun 24, 2021
Jun 24, 2021 at 6:48 PM UTC
Swiftly I feel you,
That breeze from your lips
As your hand slowly caresses
My side and my hips.
The thought that you’re here
Doesn’t quite warm the soul:
You mean nothing to me
This belief’s bad to behold
Societies ideal
Where love can flourish
Is not quite one
That I agree with, nor cherish
You mean to me
No more than friend or foe
Good times shall be had,
But nothing much more, this I know
Really, I’m sad
That this is all we can be
But trust me, it’s the best
When you’re dealing with a person like me:
And now my rhymes broke,
This poem, gone asunder
For my thoughts and feelings have encroached from yonder:
**** you society, these modern ideals ****
Feb 16, 2010
Feb 16, 2010 at 9:45 AM UTC
to the lush old fields,
i walk back,
filled with young yields.
from where i shall take back
the never ending memories
of my childhood days, i thought
i used to sit by the window sill
all alone and still
to watch the autumn sunshine
that peeps into the pane
the big old oak
and the greedy rook
the cherry blossoms on that lonely lane
the blushing lilies and white poppies
that bloom around the shire
i came from a racing world
where love vanished and is filled with dare
where the sea churns blood
and from where humanity fled
we took everything from her lap
and left it bare of warmth and sprout
none have time now
to look back at the fallen oak
nor the rook on the shabby scarecrow
who guards the barren fields
so scarce the cherry blossoms bloom
as the world began to race
trials narrowed to that little falls
where the running streams
told their weary tales
walls began to build up
huge and strong
nor a drop now came
through that restricted site
climbing further
to the peek up north
my ears caught a dirge
which the nightingale sang
to the dying earth
coz now we have opened the pandora's box
and infected the earth
i wonder where the squirrels went
'fore it was their place
now we encroached it
and to rebuild the woods
of fawn , the trespassers forgot
now all that is left of the brook
is a concrete wall
nailed to it a new plastic board
with bold letters printed
read: TRESPASSERS NOT ALLOWED"
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 8:32 AM UTC
Oh Dear River
How many faces do you have?
The pleasant calm face
With the undulating waves
The happy face
with the life thriving inside you?
The playful face with the Kids
Swimming in the river?
The vibrant face
During the downpour?
The kind face
Blessing the dark thin fishermen?
Or
The sad face
With the dark effluents let in to you
By the greedy industries?
Or the pale face
With your inflows being reduced
due to the catchments
being encroached
by the real estate mafia?
Or the angry face
With the ***** politicians and thieves
Who plunder your sand
And destroy not only you
But the livelihoods
of the poor farmers and
the water resources of the people?
Oh Dear River
How many faces do you have?
Don't be angry with us humans
because we don't care for anybody
We live only today
and we don't care for tomorrow
nor do we care about
our children of tomorrow.
We are the only inhuman species
On this earth and we wrongly
Call ourselves
As Humane beings..
Jul 16, 2015
Jul 16, 2015 at 9:41 AM UTC
The voice burnt upon my brain
I wanted to speak, to be alone
But it was like a
Candle
Flame
That grew to
******
Scorching my mind
It was the darkness that
Encroached upon my
Every thought, desires
Twisted
Perverted
Darkened
By this voice that's not mine
In the depths of my mind it
"Shrieks"
My ears permanently ringing
You have imprinted on thoughts
"I don't want"
"I do want"
"I don't know what I want"
Stop this trickery upon my mind
I am possessed by a
Whisper
That spoke untruths that
Shouted
Screamed
Silent
Is my voice now
"This voice is mine"
"The voice you knew is no more"
I'm screaming through my iris,
The window to my soul
Will any one hear my silent voice
This voice that speaks is not know my own
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 7:13 PM UTC
_They spoke to me of evenfall and dayspring, the solstice and the equinox. They sang of eras, epochs, and eons. On indigo nights, they whispered in the owl light of alchemy and enchantment, wreathing my cot with an iridescence which illuminated my dreams and begentled my slumber.
At Hallowtide, they scribed lyrical pathways in the air and sculpted rainbow arcs. They celebrated the vernal majesty of April and October's autumnal reprise with moonglade pageantry and sunset flourishes. They conjured blackberry winters and gypsy summers, and laughed at my amazement, as if to say: ‘Told you so!’
As the years departed my second decade and encroached alarmingly upon my third, I began to question why they had chosen me; why we walked together apart and apart together. I wondered where the magic ended and I began, and I realised with the bone-breaking chill of the unwelcome inevitable, just how lost I would be without it._
Sep 17, 2019
Sep 17, 2019 at 4:12 PM UTC
I didn't get much sleep last night
I wish you could guess why,
I couldn't get my heart off you
I couldn't control my mind.
When I consider your smile and laugh
The
Butterflies don't fly away
For lack of a better term they stay,
And
Grow.
That honey you call your hair,
The way your face wrinkles while you laugh,
You are something else entirely
An entity unable to be enumerated,
Entrapped, encroached upon,
Earthly, eager, but unearthy,
Eloquent and effortless,
Elevated above others.
To put it lightly,
I favor you.
and Admire.
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 11:18 AM UTC
of legendary origin
encroached upon
throughout the centuries
by human fear
seeking protection
near some venerable shape
you stand
aloof
silently balancing
symmetrical circles
of roots and crown
patiently oblivious of parks
and buildings made by those
who vainly walk in awe
to grasp the mystery
in touch, in picture, meditation
of otherness unmoved
plantlife millenial
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 8:16 AM UTC
The granular spittle that remains in my throat
A long day between winter and spring
My state known only by friends few of them
My Love felt by every creature
The ******** that sprinkles with their hatred
And those that converts their names and faith
This suffocating visible plurality of creatures and bizarre manifestations
My spiritual nervation has strengthened
Soul cells are dancing the muttered nation’s dance called Love
Those who make *** in the air as flies’ foals hatred babies
Can you **** babies is our question
We the invisible plurality of divine creatures and manifestations
We the perpetual Theophany coruscate in pure hearts
As Sun in the dews of mornings full of vetyver, ambergris, limonene, fragrance and a slight skunk of civet, moschus and the sweat men by labor exhausted
We speak we sing we paint
With the act without exhaling a syllable from our holly mouths
We sprinkle with the aureate dust
Straight we look at Saturn ring color eyes and the color of peacock tale feather
We built a cube temple and play chess in cube
We love the terrain where the guests of Moses and Lot before him had passed through
We sing with Seraph of high realms we sing in sync
Here we bring joy in hearts of those who encroached in procession through emerald macadam
Where you seldom pass
We know by heart the Al Jaffr and ten Sefirots and we read the Liber Razielis
We accompanied Adam Kadmon in his solitude prior to separation and embodiment in terrain that will be bloodied by human through centuries
We have said to John to go in the river Jordan baptize the Christ and lead him on
For those who knows a little
We said to Waraka to prepare Muhammad to become the leader of those who seek the truth
We said to Bahaullah to explain men to take after women and the mother Earth
Otherwise in upcoming millennium the solely food of them shall be kernels and water
We said to Gibran commence the Theurgy for upcoming millennium being as solely artistic repose for creative men
We said to Fahredin write as much as possible and hush as a canyon stone
Until he finds his echo point
We…
Apr 18, 2012
Apr 18, 2012 at 7:37 AM UTC
“Don’t say that,” I said,
for he gave me hope to dream
of a better life
Who am I to judge
what comes from your mind and makes
its way to the page?
Heartbroken hero,
you are worth so much to me
but I turn my head
Inevitably
rejected admiration—
Why do I bother?
I answer myself
quietly, shy, to prevent
embarrassing truths
Speaking in haiku
I am decoding language
to send a message
You are: a poet,
a lover, a dreamer, a
former(?) friend of mine
A broken wing on
the sparrows carrying the
last humility
in this broken world—
You are a fire, lit in black
ink and in tired lines
Your face, a canvas
etched with tragic beauty of
history itself
Your fingers, biceps
trembling with strength, the power
to know and create
Good and goodbyes to
encroached evils of the dark
You know there is more
than storms, depression—
more than this old soul can say
or see or even
Speak, in spite of this
epistolary chain of
senryu, tied with
the hope you once glowed
of, the old flame within you,
the torch to something,
to anything more
that still tastes life in all its
bitter and sweet and
salty and so sour
yourlipspucker with the loved
umami of life
and I am sitting
here, writing this letter to
a man who needs, like
all of us do, to
love and live and laugh and cry
and to feel skin’s warmth
once again. I have hope
for you, even if yours is
hiding under rugs,
swept away in the
midst and mist of foggy lives—
Smoke shall soon clear, and
the right words may not
be found, but these hands you hold
attached to your wrists
I am sure these hands
of yours will find the mirror
and remove the grays
of all your sorrows—
There is light, dear, waiting to
be recognized by
a humble man in
the desert, building machines,
building a new him.
Apr 10, 2013
Apr 10, 2013 at 10:24 PM UTC
Darkness surrounded the Light with fingers long and slender
It encroached Heavy. and black,
like mascara running, wet from the rain.
Cold rain, water stinging the visage
once warm and cheerful,
though now bitten and chilled, Life drained.
Breathing became harder as the Lungs filled with darkness
Soaked by broken Fantasies. and thoughts,
the mind transformed, a prison of words.
Sharp words, letters cutting the soul
bound chained and caged,
tormented by beliefs and emotions, Life drained.
The sinner-saint, weighed down, collapsed on filthy streets
and left an imprint which withers as time passes.
Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 12:11 PM UTC
Passing a property I felt compelled to the gate
something had drawn me to stop!
An irresistible urge to go inside the property
having to bang on the red door.
Waiting unable to move from the spot
on that nice day I was cold not hot!
I tried to move how I wanted to run
but my body wouldn't move!
The screams were trapped in my throat
why was I frozen here?
Shuffling noises from within approached
as my space was encroached!
I could now hardly breath as the door opened
a wrinkled old woman stared.
With deep black sunken eyes that glared
the pierced your soul!
As my body was drawn into the room
nearby was a witches broom!
Then it turned into a grim putrid hovel
as other witches appeared!
I lost consciousness at that very moment
waking up on a lino floor.
A middle aged lady staring down at me
as I looked up embarrassingly!
Helping me to a comfortable armchair
she told me I was not the first.
Who had been drawn to her front door
on this spot once it was said.
An evil witches coven had been found
but was burnt to the ground!
Seven witches were caught and put on trial
by the frightened villagers!
And here where the place now stands
they were burnt at the stake!
Saying they cursed the villagers evermore
descendants would knock the door!
As they alone would detect the witches call
realising I was caught here.
My mum gave me a locket I had to wear
said never take it off.
Unless I was compelled into a dwelling
and this story a lady telling!
Only then should I open the hinged locket
that contained the ashes!
Of the seven that died throw them it's face
then run and not look back!
I did as I was told running until I was tired
so long as now I'm retired!
It was a big story in that town I use to live
a mystery fire had caused.
The destruction of the historical cottage
it was never solved.
But I gather there was no more trouble
a locket was found in the rubble!
The Foureyed Poet.
Jan 21, 2012
Jan 21, 2012 at 11:01 PM UTC
I wish to shed the skin of yesterday
It has memories
Which I wish too forget, I tried to
Wash,
Cleanse,
Purify
So this time was purged, but I awaken
Each day having to once again,
Wash thoughts to not remember, I
Agonise,*
Tormented,
Convulsions
Shudder through my mind,
"I shed my skin each day"
"But"
Shadows still persist in the cracks
Each day my lucid thoughts
Encroached,
Invaded,
Plagued
With moments when I think I a free
But then milliseconds
It returns like a possession
My mind is withering
Will silence only set me free,
I have tried to shed my skin with each new day,
But this is never going to leave me,
Is silence the only way nothing
Perceived
Remembered
Coldness,
Is the only way to cleanse this
"Persistent memory away"
In silence there will no longer be thought
As I am free forever of that memory, buried within..
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 4:53 PM UTC
I’ve watched the western coast decline in pounding surf and howling gale
I’ve noticed how the rising tides encroach, to day by day impale,
The crumbling cliffs, the drifting sand, the ever creeping surging sea,
The violence of increasing storms…. and how it all impacts on me.
The polar ice in melting sheets cascades into high warming seas
Islands in Pacific sun now inundate with cruel ease.
Swathes of forest in Brazil encroached by axe and palm oil gain
Climatic balance counteracts to guarantee tomorrows pain.
The ocean strewn with plastic waste, choked in tides of human ****
Churning chimneys bellow forth across the blue globe, poisoning it.
Coal’s contaminants are burning holes across the crystal sky
And leaking nuclear waste contributes now… to killing you and I.
Wealth and politicians howl abuse at they who caution loud
Climate change, they disavow, is but a ploy to woo the crowd,
**** the future for the now” is the mantra held by they
Who wield the club to rule the roost and pocket spoils themselves….today!
Overwealmed by monstrous change, management relinquish charge,
Service and supply collapse with climatic refugee collage.
Hurricane and wildfire spread in league with rising seas
Of course the leaders wring their hands and call on God to please, .....appease?
A vision of this shrunken earth with coastlines vastly higher now
With cities drowned, Atlantis like, where millions, dispossessed, do prowl,
Where law and order, gone, is now replaced by desperate **** and take,
Where the rich and famous bastion arms behind their futile walls of hate.
Ask not for whom the bell tolls...It tolls for thee
M.
30 July 2019
New Zealand
Jul 29, 2019
Jul 29, 2019 at 8:44 PM UTC
paradise's parking lot
vast field of asphalt and lampposts
empty in daylights hours...
on its most distant edge
where trees overhang and
weeds have encroached in pavement's fissures
the buick sits in shade and silence
immersed in birds song and seabreeze
she sits on the hood
her patchwork quilted hippy dress brightly shines
in soft textures and scents
beads and bracelets with bells on her ankle
she is deep beauty in soft sand
an agent of the souls better natures
her form embraces the sunlight
that escapes through the overhead canopy of leaves
it dances on her skin like liberty's celebration
like lovers entwined in
passions kiss aftermath of lonesome song
a bird lands nearby and with
loud cry speaks of the hot sand and threadbare grass
with a hot voice describes the lush life it lives
and its dreams of rivers of wind
my pen has paused
she is talking to me in such soft voice now
asking if i am hungry
we sit in the peaceful edge of paradise's parking lot
where nature has stained manmade perfections
with its vibrant life
eating the salty butter bread sipping the **** wine
and wait for my pen to find its words again
waiting for the time to pass
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 11:56 AM UTC
The clock struck midnight, and a figure stood before me.
It was garbed in black robes with a stench so foul
That my nose bled while a chill encroached my body.
Who are you? I ask while suppressing my bowels.
I am Death, and the time has come for you to go.
There’s nothing left in this world for you to savor,
And your absence will surely go unnoticed … so
Come along now, I am doing you a great favor.
Bu-but, why so soon? There’s so much left to do!
What about my family? I haven’t seen them in years!
There’s so much I’ve yet to learn, knowledge to accrue,
And don’t get me started on unconquered fears!
Death erupted in laughter, as if it heard a timeless joke.
I’ve heard that drivel for eons. Please say no more.
For decades you’ve sat on this couch sipping some coke.
You’ve amounted to nothing; you’re a total bore.
Tell you what, I’ll give you one more chance, just one.
Turn your life around -- give me a reason to spare it.
Fail to value your life and your soul is mine, my son.
You only live once, so your life you must cherish.
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 8:16 AM UTC
When first we met our words with each
Were laced with smile and touch. Our eyes,
Confessed and broke at the closing café
And fused in joy and salt, opened up
With long, arresting arms at our sides.
You brought me to your toppled room,
I counted a number of worn, weary
Books, various anthologies, travelogues
And philosophers, a few fierce Poets,
Looking on, strategies for study,
All assembled, with great measure,
It was an alternate version of my own
Battle ground library. Then, I was yours
But you were never mine.
Your stone,
Walled spirit encroached upon me
And I was unset to siege at the base
Of your winding turret and waged
With you a fortnight of five full years
When you rushed forth on your crusades
You left me, flung, far from the holy lands.
Jul 1, 2012
Jul 1, 2012 at 2:37 AM UTC
The mountain peak penetrating the sky
A lead sky hidden behind the indigo clouds,
Tapping with its shade the rain shower
Which beats the world of emaciated feelings
Those feelings keeping the encroached souls
In a mesh of life without hope
In a framework of themselves
The sky penetrating the mountain
In its valley's green depth
To the place where
The life's last illusion flows
In the middle of the chasms
Where the running water galvanizes
The gold silence
Weary wandering seemingly to nowhere
Trying to vanquish its metamorphosis
In the time sight
And on the time ear
The echo of its sound penetrating the life
Of a new spring, in its own
When the absence of the old one
Means not forgetfulness
Unlocking the ubiquitous meanders
Making the rain to shine
The cold gray stones
With their arms and their *******
Freaking the pick of their thoughts
Freaking the strength of their iron veins
And their paradoxical conundrum
Like a voice which is still alive
Or like a mysterious touch
Oct 8, 2011
Oct 8, 2011 at 7:25 AM UTC