Wickedness can’t be defined
One can’t define when one commits
Source of the mind
Corruption established
No Mercy nor pity
Evil darkness having a purpose
Destruction in being eliminated
Evil in the eyes
Mad counted on disturbed theory
Explanation having no answers
Aspect to follow
No trace on set course
Deceit in the heart
Evidence of wounds expressed in the antecedents
Hell’s fury in the conquest
Chaos floored
Once upon never
Good having no place
Evil on and Evil out
Beware and watch your back mold.
Lord, set me a table in Byzantium:
not the rose-colored queen of the Bosphorus,
not the city of jeweled liturgies,
but the drain where the scourings of empire collect.
Give me a rough wooden bench
and a goblet of thick southern wine
that smacks of honey and dust
in a tavern on some twisted lane away from the sea,
where a plump dancing girl of uncertain antecedents
clicks the reptilian scales of her castanets,
her gaze weighing my limbs like dubious florins,
while a one-eyed Cappadocian in the corner
thoughtfully fingers his knife.
Lord, I don’t ask for much,
only a fate I can handle.
Graciousness forms
the apparel of the meek,
tempered in blistering
hues of aura crafted
with the breath of
exhaustion sinking
deep into the soul
of the soulless,
there it wanders
with eyes open wide,
a pop of life silenced
by its surroundings,
forsaken lands filled
with despotic nature,
crucified
their interior along
with their exterior,
proceeding cautiously
as it gravitates
toward the center,
connecting humble
origins placing
the palm of its heart onto
forced separation,
the wind wraps
around creating
sanctuary healing
the wounded descent
of sacrifice,
predetermined
by its antecedents,
a child born
through ashes into
the world's callous
ever ruling
appeal.
Being rejected by his humans
As if that wasn’t bad enough
Forced into s life of beggary
Homeless and having to live rough
Mr Whiskey’s a cat of distinctiom
A cat of manners and breeding
Even without access to antecedents
There available for our reading.
A cat of intellectual depth
Easy for all to see
Obviously holding at leat
A First Class Masters Degree.
He sits for hours in the garden
To thr casual glance asleep
But in all reality he’s thinking
Thoughts both esoteric and deep.
Just recently he’s decided
By methods he knows best
With flying colours we’ve passed
The decent human beings test.
As a result we’ve been appointed
To the household of this worthy cat
And in the way of things these days
Life doesn’t get much better than that
ANTECEDENTS
espoused
in
intense
authentic
hegomony
surrounded
overwhelmed
in
solemnity
survivial
an
aftermath
retracts
to scare
but
the
individual.
little changed
remains
inordinately
heroic
anguish
&
affliction
unresolved
in
flavour
knowing
the
ill fated
supposedly
narrower
setting
lies
in
improbality
Cloaked in Their Untruths
By Sy Roth
Behind a cloak their little secrets roved,
Like silent, swishing vagrants eluding the truth
The darkness so thick,
A wall of impenetrable secrets built around it.
Leaving the unclosing to callow youth
Senseless in their wasteful trepidation,
They took no time to explore their truths
Dressed in slim, tight gabardine their desires arrested.
They had no need to validate,
No desires to explore.
Lost opportunities heaped into a morass of speculation
Until the voices of the antecedents were silenced.
Screams of loss as the span between life and death widen
They find in their own selves no validity
Only a vacuity in a tale filled with inconsistencies
That are bungee cords flipping them hither and yon unbound.
No way to make whole the person in a sere fabric
When the stories are filled with imagined realities.
They erect their own corpus on a land of falsities
Left only with mislaid dreams of not taking time with the whole cloth.
the bottom lines scripted peripheries in a mirror
a headline toppled and reversed time and place
left became right and wrong pretended its centre
denuded illusions spoke in forked shiny tongues
lingua franca became subversive and spun yarns
and the spike of a spindle put wool over her eyes
prologues anticipated an apocalyptic message
hindsight firmly foreclosed unhinged shutters
framed in warped memories she recollected
blinds and veiled faces curtained in rags
holes and apertures appeared in the lore
essence void of existence smudged in tears
she relived captions and small printed subtexts
post-scripted antecedents and false premises
edited reminders and pasted virtuous contrasts
until meaning blocked out the pain of denial
a book mark covered in dust had refused to fade
and sealed approval onto questions and doubts
22nd June 2020
Carried by the storks of autumn,
furried charges scattered 'round;
buried by the squirrels that brought 'em
underneath the leaf strewn ground.
The antecedents tall and stately
reach as if to praise the clouds
as leaves like feathers drop sedately -
their fingers stitch a quilted shroud.
Brothers-sisters, hither-yon;
the embryos, both nature's feast
and children of a spring day dawn.
While through Earth's breast their roots release
to start anew a truth foretold,
new life will sprout among the old.
written April 14, 2020
inspired by John Lawless's Last Acorn contest (not entered)
(mixed meter)
A solitary Life
When birds return
To their destination
After the day’s exertion
Before darkness befall
They have a lot of antecedents
To exchange, express and listen,
To see and show
And to bear and embalm
Which they exchange
With their keens
Before sleep casts its slumber
But desire of coaxing and rumination
Remains embedded
Within the boundary of heart
When a bird use to lead
A solitary life
It preserves all the happenings
Whatever it hands on
During daily experiences
In the sleepy aspiration
Of a day
When through the stairs of rainbow
Would step down to join
One more life
This is how does it differ, my dear
That is your life
This is my life.
How sweet it
would have been,
the nectar's of my divine,
the room of my
reminiscence
full of solemnized,
I adore thee,
chaste in my thoughts,
never ending,
never ceasing my
sanquineus,
Banquets dining a
thirsting appetite,
for wine,
vitalizing the limits.
My thoughts infatuation
Of your presence,
is the room,
a leap of my restrains
follow by your visage.
And in solid grounds
I still deluge myself,
it is never too divine,
never too allure the glance
of our antecedents
©ElenaToledo2009
How sweet it
would have been,
the nectar’s of my divine,
the room of my
reminiscence
full of solemnized.
I adore thee,
chaste in my thoughts,
never ending,
never ceasing my
sanguineus.
Banquets dining a
thirsting appetite,
for wine,
vitalizing the limits.
My thoughts infatuation
of your presence,
is the room,
a leap of my restrains
follow by your visage.
And in solid grounds
I still deluge myself,
it is never too divine,
never too allure the glance
of our antecedents.
PAST
Truly the present and the future
Cannot come and become
Without the past
Without the passing of another day
Today and tomorrow
Would not be here
Rather it would be there.
What a wonderful happening
These events of the day
The sequences and consequences
Is God’s invention of the best
The future and the present
Precedes the past, not invertly and conversely!
People are either or neither
Are major players
But it could be
Antecedents or of the precedents
Sometimes
We cannot accept the past
As incidentals of the present
The future are accustomated by the past…
If you are the past
And never can be
The present and the future
To dare this and that
Would be an absurdity
Lest the experiences and challenges appurtenant thereto
Stick in the present, think of the future and bury the Past!!
Night,the 1st poem
Love,the 1st Song
Child,the 1st miracle
Rebirth,the 1st Dawn
Without antecedents
This matrimony of Souls and Time
From a faithful heart a world torn apart, from a battered
mind two taken from time.
A heavy heart you touched my soul though to me you
were not know but, in this senseless violence there is comfort
because to Heaven you have flown.
When I think of this wildness I can’t help but be filled with so much
anger, I lay my face in my hands and cry for your terror.
A million antecedents, your heart must have been huge; or did he
ingrain in your mind something that wasn’t true?
For love or something, you endured and paid the ultimate sacrifice,
so let’s never forget Teresita and Rachel, ironically they showed us
how to save a life.
From a faithful heart a world torn apart, from a battered
mind two taken from time.
(Victims of family violence taken from the world)
Hosting a bash, the belly butterflies flutter,
From the thought of you, I melt like butter.
Strong willed, outspoken unless my affection,
My retreat if ever eyes should meet in your direction.
To reveal what I feel, I stand petrified from the fall.
Like a forest, too timid to hear the Timber call.
Heart trapped in the middle of social and destiny game,
Yet, I'm the only one between the two of them to blame.
Past romance all perishable love precedents,
But why should you get blamed from prior antecedents?
Temperature upsurge from feasible pleas able passion merge.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.