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Best Allusion Poems

Below are the all-time best Allusion poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of Allusion poems written by PoetrySoup members

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Poems are below...

New Allusion Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Allusion poems are below this new poems list.

You And Allusion by Alhemaidy, Abdullah
Allusion to the Bible by Kelly, Josh
filled with allusion by tremillo, michelle

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The Best Allusion Poems

Details | Allusion Poem | Create an image from this poem.



This is not a poem about a rose
Nor a poem, about diligence and beauty
Today, I sit and stare at the walls
Walls, that bare the complexity of life
Every breath, every tear I shed in my room
Set out to pollinate every seed, every bud-
Life     once - was the perfection of everything
Now, water drops as I drown in my sentiments
--- Sentiments that no longer hold meaning
I feel so empty now that you are gone.
This is not a poem about a rose,
Rather, it may be, I write about death
Death is a man with no face
A man who sits every night
Patiently, he sits on the edge of everything
Waiting and waiting,
For the thorn to prick the stem of who I am,
Who I used to be, in hopes I end the suffering

Every night he sits on the bedside  
Watching and waiting 
As I gaze deep into the dark watery walls
I lose the strength and resilience in my eyes.
Creating a dormancy, that shuts out the light
In a place where darkness prunes itself another day
There and only there,
I draw the silhouettes where life once bloomed
The echoes of my heart still call out your name
A name that no longer exists by my side
Slowly, the musk withers into the air 
In remembrance, you were once here
Perfection Gone, ~And a rose is just a rose~

:) 4-16-16

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2016

Details | Allusion Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Ethereal Epiphany

Consumed with doubt.. Entangled between the boundaries of reality's reach.. In restless dreams a soul yearns - to reside within the realms of conscious thought. Traversing towards an enchanting valley, fields of lilacs and bluebells surround. They lay foundations for rows of charismatic cherry blossoms, peacefully resting among a myriad of kaleidoscopic roses. Above azure horizons, reveal the naked sun, whose radiance shimmers upon sapphire waters, delicately blowing a refreshing breeze. Lucid images illuminate the mind, with visions of an ethereal epiphany - difficult to define. A heavenly muse echoes a majestic lullaby, beckoning the heart to oblige to acquiesce. Suppressed thoughts bleed like waterfalls. Barren lands soak in reflection. As distance decreases - eyes admire in silent reverie, desiring two isolated soulful hearts to conflate. An abundance of amorphous aromas enrapture, senses blaze into passionate aspirations... A renaissance of rhapsodic romantic musings reverberate symphonies into the chambers of couplet hearts. In harmony, venturing upon a path not known to lovers before. Two souls search for the garden of paradise, yearning to savour luscious forbidden nectar. Upon the zenith of enticement - unwelcome gloomy skies encroach. Petals agitated by spiteful winds, float towards foggy waters. Smoke clears, clarity reveals white concrete walls. Nature's beams bring a deep sigh..
The Silent One Simple musings 1 January 2017

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2017

Details | Allusion Poem | Create an image from this poem.

A beautiful mirror

-Escape of the mountain-

Do you care about my breast?
The new curve - countryside corset. 
The beauty of every summer dress 
Laying down, wearing out gravity 
Embracing the same feeling; Your
hands indulged in. Passion and devotion, 
around perfumed scenery... 
     The perfect pair

Today we will pray,
Counting every second on the clock 
No longer the womanly figure before'
I will possess a new battle, 
around the virtues of my palace.

-Will you still be there, 
  when the hump and lump are gone?
-Will I still be the queen of your heart?
Patiently I shall wait and see, 
 in hopes to gain the time, breast cancer stole 
Leaving behind torn tissue, with a daily reminder of;
The one that got away.

A Focus on Breast Cancer 

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2016

Details | Allusion Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Like Ice --- THE WALTZ

"Black Ice"

Sorrow flows from the first sunrise 
Eyes deeper than winter and rainfall
A painful combination never felt before 
At core death awaits
   - laughing while she begs for clemency!
In her eyes, fault is found in every sunset
   - after coming down from cloud nine.
Impossible to move --- her body stiffen
That very moment, A precious Waltz - Expired!
Coldplay and winter mist set in 
Ruins of love clinch an endless echo 
  - taunting the very merry memory.
The auditory sensation of broken trust 
   - stride across the way.
Icing every thought in a sullen, cold rink. 
She fell - She crumbled 
  - In a world where hope once existed 

Today, she will sway alone without a lullaby
In a room with no warmth 
One time a sweet symphony, now a sour moon 
 At last, a different tune begins to fiddle
As she grooms the icicles in her room.
On every mid-moon, she stares and stares
  towards the old shriveled lipstick on his pillow 
Unseen coldness, unsatisfied, incomplete tears
She can feel the complete braille of hate 
--- cascade around the emptiness

Throughout her poise frostbite travels in
Midnight Summer dreams are near an end
Autumn bones covered by winter sleet 
A deadly force condemns all because of one 

Lost years crumbled like an avalanche 
Way deep down inside....... 
She paints the rain like no other heartache
Leaving winter residue behind every step
"Black Ice" sits close to the cold canvas on her pale

If you seek closely, she is there 
Immobilized in a waltz, in a waltz, in a waltz

Never to linger or trust 
The "HE" that spoke of love, then melted away


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2016

Details | Allusion Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Beautiful Ones

Aloft in the steam, they look like Eagles. 
Perched now on the edge of the bowl, 
proud courtesies peck the kind and meek 
with true meanings and Premier trophies 

Unprecedented vanity creates illusion 
with self appointed monarchs. 
Court jesters perform a merry dance 
patronizing peasants. 

Draws the gaze towards the stage, 
demands the ‘groundlings’ awe. 
Under their script, the knees bend 
as truth is removed by deleted scenes. 

Kings and queens laugh sadistically 
offering a standing ovation, but 
festivities are interrupted abruptly, 
as valiant knights rebel against oppression. 

Disrobed, their crowns become 
spears through the sternum’s shield, 
impales hearts that only bleed 
weak fallacies and pretentious devices. 

As their guise becomes clear, 
anemic vultures are revealed. 
Perched upon a bowl of blood, 
anticipating their next persecution. 

16 May 2016
Collaboration with Rob Carmack
Inspired by the Globe Theatre first built in 1599

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2016

Details | Allusion Poem | Create an image from this poem.


Introducing: Carl Fraser & Poet Destroyer

Oh Paint me a far away horizon
Across a tranquil azure sea,
Where sits a peaceful deserted island
Where no one lives but me
Free from prying eyes and greedy lies
Free from scars that never heal
Let me be free to just be me
Instead of someone who isn't real
To live out my days giving thanks and praise
To my creator in heaven above
And leave behind the noise of worldly toys
And just bask daily in his love
To be stripped of pain by the spirits rain
And washed until my robes are clean
For I've had enough of my fellowman's company
And I'm disgusted by what I've seen
So I will step into my painted horizon
Framed in a forever state of bliss
And I turn back only for a fading glimpse
As I blow the world a farewell kiss.

       Laced by the seas we see, you beg for a life so far
       Far from all I've dreamed of, tranquil and spirit rain
       A once false painted paradise,
       Bliss, a farewell kiss, drowned by old heartache
       Not knowing where it's coming from
       Yesterday, I woke up to a new skyline,
       The horizon, formed by your eyes,
       Across a tranquil azure sea
       Far from all existing companies, you stood
       In front of the ocean - your ocean!
       Sailing on the calm side of the turquoise sea
       Stripping back into the innocence you once were
       A gentleman, caressing the oats in a peaceful state
       The moon breaking your once trusted mind
       The silence of heaven heals every scar inside
       Redemption is a secret we beg for
       It was always you, someone lost, misguided by love
       Somebody, I once dreamt of, A dream lost out at sea
       Calling out for me --- you chose to pray alone
       Repelled by the world so cold, yet here I stand
       Alone, on the other side of the farewell kiss
       For you, I paint a faraway horizon of bliss, my friend
       Waiting -Dreaming -Escaping --- In another lifetime

       ~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015

Details | Allusion Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Silent hypocrisy - Lyrics cliche image contest example

Example for lyrics, cliché image contest.
Song: The sound of silence
Cliché: The writings on the wall 
Image: 5

Engrossed with luminous lights,
media brainwashes the masses.
Eyes spiral destitute of vision,
minds compromised in decision.

Within the hypocrisy of silence,
a sister's blood stains the soil.
Her brother turns to the dollar,
as their mother soaks in death.

Whispers travel with vapours,
but their message is not heard.
Wrong colour; wrong location,
imperialistic greed still reigns.

Voices of past prognosticators
are worshipped by the valiant.
Mocked by powerful elite,
radicals cause deadly havoc.

Without violence will injustice
ever have the voice it deserves?
Humanity destructs inevitably,
with manifestation of antipathy.

14 April 2016

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2016

Details | Allusion Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Enchanted house

Across Persian blue streams,
through sylvan valleys,
an isolated river flows towards
a meadow of royal Forget-Me-Nots.
Chartreuse grass flourishes among
an isolated field of daisies and dandelions.

A gallery of trees obscure 
a secluded house with mysterious charm.
Misty smokes surrounds with a spiritual
spell binding mystical aura.
Valiantly standing through centuries,
there are signs of rust and decay, 
but it has not lost its elegance.

Without windows and doors,
it remains desolate - deserted decades ago.
It hides secrets, forgotten in time;
stories that are now regarded as fairy tales.
Legend has it;
it signifies the first kiss between a princess
and a frog - who turned into a prince.

Maybe that is why so many frogs venture there,
waiting for a princess to lift their curse.

22 May 2016
Enchanted House - Poetry Contest by Nayda Ivette Negron

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2016

Details | Allusion Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Prophet of DOOM

Fabricated whispers seduced by falsehood
have the grapevine shivering in notoriety
Pernicious vile glutinous serpent revels
in poisoning the innocent children of Eve

The prophet of doom gossips about scandal
fictitious storytelling with inaccurate slander
deception, deceit, dishonesty, disinformation
leaving behind a trail of falsification myth
Venomous words spoken form into miasma
toxic breath pollutes mutating malignancy

Children of Adam, were born to be together
but, the Devil, conceived demonic partition
Divide and conquer, Apartheid are his work
sadly, some still give devotion to his creed

Silent One
20 January 2016
Remember God is always watching and knows the truth
Just because somebody says something - does not mean it is true

Triple Filter Test
In ancient Greece, Socrates (the famous philosopher) was visited by an acquaintance of his. Eager to share some juicy gossip, the man asked if Socrates would like to know the story he’d just heard about a friend of theirs. Socrates replied that before the man spoke, he needed to pass the “Triple-Filter” test.

The first filter, he explained, is Truth. “Have you made absolutely sure that what you are about to say is true?” The man shook his head. “No, I actually just heard about it, and …”

Socrates cut him off. “You don’t know for certain that it is true, then. Is what you want to say something good or kind?” Again, the man shook his head. “No! Actually, just the opposite. You see …”

Socrates lifted his hand to stop the man speaking. “So you are not certain that what you want to say is true, and it isn’t good or kind. One filter still remains, though, so you may yet still tell me. That is Usefulness or Necessity. Is this information useful or necessary to me?”  A little defeated, the man replied, “No, not really.”

“Well, then,” Socrates said, turning on his heel. “If what you want to say is neither true, nor good or kind, nor useful or necessary, please don’t say anything at all.”

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2016

Details | Allusion Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Island of fantasy

Misplaced within the realms of hallucination, where distant lovers blend Rhythmic percussion of waves vibrate among soft, sandy pearl beaches. My beloved's emerald eyes glow, walking hand in hand in tender serenity. As the majestic sun sinks into a warm bed, the horizons glow from persimmon to scarlet. Our skins are cooled by a tepid breeze, as the radiant moon lights up the darkness. Illuminated stars converge into a constellation, forming a translucent path under obsidian skies. Golden butterflies lead towards an enchanting garden, where the aroma intoxicates through unique roses. Fireflies flicker bright lights, with gentle humming, as mysterious birds recite dulcet melodies. Within a verdant meadow, ivory unicorns roam, surrounded by enchanting tranquil air. As the sun's marigold hues kiss the ocean, light transforms the skies from amethyst to brandeis blue. As illusion disappears and reality sets in, my beloved departs as the island drifts away.
9 June 2016 Island of Fantasy - Poetry Contest by Nayda Ivette Negron

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2016

Details | Allusion Poem | Create an image from this poem.

If walls could speak

You can't break something - already broken
Can't heal something - that can't be healed
Can't love something - not worthy to be loved
Can't fear something - that does not exist
Can't murder something - already deceased
How can you live - when you fail to exist
How can you see - when your eyes are ignorant
How does your heart beat - when it is plastic
How can you listen - when you hear no sound
Why do you speak - when your words confuse
Why do you cry - when your tears are artificial
Why do you follow -when you don't know the destination
Why do you hide - when the truth will set you free
Why do you not ask - when the answers will save you

Walls hide so many secrets..... If only they could speak

The Silent One
2 December 2015

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2015

Details | Allusion Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Unseen Rainbow

I've never ever seen her face, 
but in my mind, she's the color of love
strong like dark coffee
She wakes you up early in the morning,
gives you an energetic taste of loving
to get your day going
passionate fire flows in her veins
She's got crimson lips that blow words of desire,
to keep the flames rising higher and higher,
every time she speaks your name
smile is sunshine bright
She walk towards you in her canary-colored,
polka dot sun dress that accentuate her hips so well
Her graceful charm is so a-maize-ingly pastel
mood indigo can really touch you
She makes you want to love her always,
under ocean lit moonlight and clear cerulean skies
Embark on a passage of endless days
verdant valley of iris flower eyes
She's as a carpet of grass with enfolding arms,
wrapping you in her love
Bury your head in her bosom, safe from harm
sugar is the sweetest heart ever known
She has a boundless supply of caramel happiness,
taste the creamy richness of her sensuality
It's like roasted chestnuts offered to a welcomed guest
visions of a streaming, silky satin dress
She has a winter glow like pure virgin snow,
a gift waiting to be opened by a worthy beau
Beckons you into her ivory tower to rest
Forever gazing into her yet unseen face,
which in my mind is the color of love

Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2016

Details | Allusion Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Images of feathers

"Once upon a midnight Poe"

Underneath the midnight mask, I remove the makeup at last,
The moon is anvil to my mood, mooring along the vacant vast 
I lay the Gin and Tonic by the bedside asking for more,
I hear a noise, a lost voice, the echoes of no rejoice,
I couldn't brush the light coming from the cracks under the door
I gave it some thought, 
My eyes twinkle, towards the tinsel tiles on the floor
Seemingly the light seemed to be deeming distance of resistance
Curiosity came in crawling and caressing 
To sense and taste of sinful skin 
Everything then grew thinner than thin
On the spur of the moment, I hear a whisper, my love is near
"Darkness there, and nothing more."

A nerve impulse hits the wall if nothing nary, nevertheless 
I sadistically, stagger a sullen movement, even so
In this moment, Edgar Whispered, "nothing more."
Many nights, I dram of demonic demons, demanding answers for
A sad --sadder voice, sits and whines, with the wind
"Merely this and nothing more!"
A notary, nauseate moment, sea sick, shipwreck sensation
Secular suicide spreading like gossip, sailing through my veins
Evilly and twisted, "This it is and nothing more" - that remains

Tweaking and repeating, the speeding of needing
My drugs of pain and passion, to end the delusion
Of the self-inflicted - bruising from the voices of my choices
I hear the whisper, a selfish whisper, asking for Lenore
How many nights, he comes into my room, dress like A Raven
Painted and tainted like the midnight dreary
Reciting the excitement like The Bells, of Annabel, in a rush
Never, never, nameless here forevermore, in my dreams
Under my evil doing skin, like the sum of sin is how it seems

On the nights, my soul mate does not appear, 
The anchor drowns and torments me with tears
I travel up in fear, of the fear, when my ghost is not near
Rattling and trembling, by the bedside, 
On the grim side of the mental moon, when in gloom
I scrape up my room, screaming to the bleeding, 
From my heart, who needs a killing, 
From a feeding and the feeling of letting Poe, go!

By: PD
Inspired by The Raven

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014

Details | Allusion Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Summon winds of change

My shadow cries tears, not visible through my eyes. Burning rage remains concealed, reluctant to appease infiltrators who hide behind intangible ideologies. I'm tired from throwing stones at the devil, fatigued from false promises; elaborated by imperialistic leaders, whose words are fragile like ballet dancers, whose actions resemble concrete boulders. How can people change the world, when they can't change themselves. How can they cleanse the hearts of others, when their hearts and minds remain corrupt. Instead of repeating the same things, walking upon the same trodden path, contradicting our beliefs, principles and morals, should we not start by accepting each other? If only we were all blind to prejudice: colour, age, gender, race, religion, sexual orientation, would not matter - nor would borders. We would all be free. Maybe if we looked at humans, like we glance at flowers. Maybe if our mindset remained at peace, like the first time we hold our child. Maybe if we became intoxicated by love, rather than fall deep into the realms of hate. What if love was the currency, how greedy would you be? What if our breaths healed the environment, rather than our actions polluting it. What if our eyes became empathetic, with our tears of compassion healing the broken. So many 'what ifs' and so many 'maybes', one person alone can't change the world, it can only be changed arm in arm. Together we can summon the winds of change, so that tomorrow our children can live in peace.
28 July 2016 If I could change the world poetry contest by Becca Teagan

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2016

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Love is more powerful than hate

Ignore those who make you fearful and sad. (Rumi) Love is always more powerful than hate. It's simple to tell who is good and bad. Those who spread rumours are playing with fate. Love is always more powerful than hate, freedom of speech is your God given right. Those who spread rumours are playing with fate, never back down, always stand up and fight. Freedom of speech is your God given right, don't be afraid;, if they can't hear you - SHOUT! Never back down, always stand up and fight, with a strong stance no one can push you out. Don't be afraid; if they can't hear you - SHOUT! The intelligent ones will know the truth. With a strong stance no one can push you out, you'll be hitting home runs, just like Babe Ruth. The intelligent ones will know the truth, with a smile, be true to what you believe. You'll be hitting home runs, just like Babe Ruth, let them know there is much more up your sleeve. With a smile, be true to what you believe, life is full of obstacles in your way. Let them know there is much more up your sleeve, nothing they can do will ruin your day. Life is full of obstacles in your way. It's simple to tell who is good and bad. Nothing they can do will ruin your day. Ignore those who make you fearful and sad.
23 May 2016 10 syllables per line. Pantoum poem A rare form of poetry. It is composed of a series of quatrains; the second and fourth lines of each stanza are repeated as the first and third lines of the next. This pattern continues for any number of stanzas, except for the final stanza, which differs in the repeating pattern. The first and third lines of the last stanza are the second and fourth of the penultimate; the first line of the poem is the last line of the final stanza, and the third line of the first stanza is the second of the final. Ideally, the meaning of lines shifts when they are repeated although the words remain exactly the same: this can be done by shifting punctuation, punning, or simply recontextualizing. It does not have to rhyme nor have a syllable restriction

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2016

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Narcissus fell in love with his own image 
a reflection in a pool of water
remarkably 1% suffer from Narcissistic personality disorder
consumed in the pursuit of gratification for vanity
including egotistical admiration of attributes
socially and culturally immune from empathy and compassion
sustaining satisfying relationship a major problem
ignorant in understanding another person's perspective
susceptible to delusions of grandeur - love flattery
megalomaniacs born everyday in our community 

The Silent One
29 November 2015

The term "narcissism" comes from the Greek myth of ?????ss??, or in Latin Narcissus, a handsome Greek youth who rejected according to Ovid the desperate advances of the nymph Echo. These advances eventually led Narcissus to fall in love with his own reflection in a pool of water. Unable to consummate his love, Narcissus "lay gazing enraptured into the pool, hour after hour," and finally changed into a flower that bears his name, the narcissus.

The concept of excessive selfishness has been recognized throughout history. In ancient Greece the concept was understood as hubris. It is only in recent times that it has been defined in psychological terms.

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2015

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Element Water

It took place shortly after   and the stage was set
before words      before ink      before heavenly breath
There was a rain on the parade
of eternal monotony
and the angels were elated

In the Beginning God created...      the verse everyone knows
tantalizing phrasing that leaves you on your tip-toes

before grass      before plants      before earthly foes

And the earth was without form...      (and talk about void!)

It was there when it was all lightning and storm:
chaos untamed in watery upheaval,
though the celestial walls were impermeable

Enough disarray to make a grown man weep

And darkness was over the surface of the deep...

It was there before it was given the title: Sea
Before light was birthed with a "Let there be"

Blanketing the earth with cerulean comfort
in preparation for ethereal tickles,
despair happy to take her wings

And the Spirit of God was hovering...

Like a golden eagle dipping down
into azure pools
knowing mountains will soon rise from your depths

... but LOVE is the requisite
   ... and HOPE is the heart of it

Just like the weather that's about to hit the scene,
before Pangaea performs in emerald green

... and there was morning      the Second Day

Can you not hear your doubts just wash away?

---remember what happened on the Third?
I'm sure you do---

As you see Him reaching down with liquid love for you,
longing to invigorate your being

He wants to split you in half
as the Rod of Moshe
made watery walls of crystallization
He longs to enter into your towering trust

(and not just on occasion)

For sometimes the Water of Life is dramatic
Sometimes it's not

And sometimes your fears could use a little irrigation
(right now your eyes could use
a bit of prayerful precipitation)

Remember the ruby water that dripped down
the Face of the Son
that fateful day
Drink it in      Become full
Indulge in humble hydration

Your heart will tell you what you should

And behold it was very good...

NOTE: Moshe is the Hebrew rendering of the name Moses.

Written April 2nd, 2016
For the Element Water Contest Hosted by Brian Davey

Six Words Used: Impermeable, Requisite, Invigorate, Crystallization, Precipitation, Hydration

Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2016

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Tranquil waters

Poisonous gasses pollute, like a gun to my head unaware a swan floats upon tranquil waters delicate cherry blossom buds blow in the breeze creating a pink tapestry resting upon the water resentful, in envy the sun hides behind grey clouds torrent rain falls accompanied by thunderous flashes of light interrupted, the swan swiftly seeks safe sanctuary those around panic - yet he remains elegant intense rain drops destroy the formed pink tapestry like daggers piercing on dusky meandering waters eventually - the sun wakes from her slumber dehydrating the rain - annihilating the clouds Picturesque - the enchanting rainbow sing's her song Mother Nature's symphony highlights the horizons oblivious - a swan floats upon tranquil waters The Silent One 19 December 2015

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2015

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A Free Spirit

How can I explain to you,
you a poor mortal,
what a free spirit is?
Consider I have no bounds,
I go just where I fancy.
I relish moments of madness
without ill effects.

Can you see me waltzing
with a fiery tailed comet
that orbits around far off Arcturus,
in the Herdsmen constellation?
Imbibing its bright soft orange light,
enjoying its hard-to-observe buried corona?

Can you imagine me swim amongst
the spiral and elliptical galaxies?
Bask in their dense luminosity,
irrespective of their fluctuating temperatures?

I've kissed so many moons,
and frolicked with Venus,
watched in awe a cataclysmic nuclear explosion,
as some old dwarf star goes nova.

I've seen all this and more,
but rest assured, o miserable mortal,
that I yearn to be substantial like you.
For you can do so much.....
but not I, 
no I can never love or be loved
like you.

9 December 2015

Entered Screwed XII contest.
Placed 10

Featured on Poetry Soup 13 December 2015
Copyright © 2015 

Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2015

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If I Were An Elephant

If I were an elephant I’d fly a kite.
I’d send it up high to capture the light
and hang in the air, oh what a sight… 
but everyone knows they can’t fly a kite.

If I were an elephant I’d drive a car.
I’d fill it with gas and drive it afar.
People may say, “that’s very bizarre”,
‘cause everyone knows they can’t drive a car.

If I were an elephant I’d fly a plane...
the fun I would have I could never explain.
People may say, “that’s really insane”,
‘cause everyone knows they can’t fly a plane.

If I were an elephant I’d go into space...
oh, just imagine that wonderful place.
Imagine the smile it would put on my face...
everyone knows they can’t go into space.

So I'll go through life doing elephant good,
expressing my girth as all elephants should
and I'll live my life as an elephant would
but... I’d do all those things if an elephant could.


Copyright © Mark Massey | Year Posted 2016

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Mirror Ball

I'm sure this hill is where it stood.
Amazing shapes of stuccoed wood.
A glass-brick, neon stream-lined place.
As if it flew from outer space,

A swing band auditorium,
An Art Deco emporium,
When romance, innocent in pace,
From dancing to a teasing chase.

The town grew west in modern haste
And down it came, without a trace.
The war and culture's change in taste,
Predestined doom, the past erased.

The future sighs, with solemn face
The wrecking ball, the glittered waste
No plaque to read "Historic Sight".
The swirling dust, a dance goodnight.

Gene Bourne

Copyright © Gene Bourne | Year Posted 2014

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January Rain

Chaotic rain divulges errantly how can this be God's poetry it plunders like a tsunami the Devil's masterpiece How can this be mercy torrent waters surge floods creating oceans inescapable drowning Each rain drop becomes louder caught in the line of fire no escaping the bullets tranquil peace destroyed Peaceful melodies are lost storms reflect unpleasant music senseless evil heavy metal lyrics no purpose - shouting and screaming Doused, drenched, engulfed suffocating - soaking strain where is Noah and his Ark? Will this barricade conclude The Silent One 7 January 2016

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2016

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Nothing else matters

Example for Lyrics, cliché, image contest.
Image 3
Song: Nothing matters
Cliche: Knickers in a twist

Can't you see they're dumbing our nation, but nothing else matters.
Humankind brainwashed by dictation, but nothing else matters.

Eyes fixated by flashing lights that razzle-dazzle their minds.
Many question this dim causation, but nothing else matters.

They giggle and deny, say, "Don't get your knickers in a twist."
Give their neon Gods an ovation, but nothing else matters.

Following false prophets, monitored through electronic apps,
speech is distasteful with truncation, but nothing else matters.

Materialism commercialises their common sense,
brains suffocate without hydration, but nothing else matters.

Can you imagine a day without the use of your smartphone?
Not too late to stop the mutation, but nothing else matter.

16 April 2016
The Silent one.
15 syllables per line

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2016

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Tommy the tomato

Tommy was the toughest tomato in Tomato Land.  Tommy did not like being a tomato.  He would always say to his friend Tina: "I want to be a potato; they are so strong. Us tomatoes are weak and squishy."  Tina would simply smile and tell him: "Potatoes are so ugly, misshaped and have no personality."  Tommy was stubborn in his quest. He knew he could not be a potato, but he wanted to be just as strong.  Everyday he did hundreds of press ups and sit ups.

Tommy loved to wrestle.  He had become very famous for 'squishing' all his opponents. There were no more tomatoes left for him to fight.  His success started to make him big-headed.  He would go around mocking other tomatoes, laughing and shouting: "You lot are so weak, I can squish you all with one finger!"  People in Tomato Land were beginning to dislike Tommy, except for Tina.  Her nature was kind and always told him to be modest.  He never did listen though. He did not realise the importance of being humble nor cared for it.

Tommy dreamed about wrestling with the strongest potato.  In Potato Land lived  Polly, who was the most powerful in the land.  Polly was sweet and did not like to wrestle, unless someone upset her.  News had reached Potato Land about a tomato who wanted to squish all the potatoes.  Everyone found it funny and thought it was a joke.

One day Tommy decided to pack his bag and go wrestle in Potato Land.  Tina decided to go with him as she was a loyal friend and did not want him to to look silly.  As they arrived, all the potatoes laughed when he told them: "I'm Tommy and I'm the toughest tomato in Tomato Land.  I challenge the strongest potato to a wrestling match."  Tina who was a little nervous begged him not to, but of course, he did not listen.

Polly saw Tommy and sweetly told him: "I am the most powerful of the potatoes, but I do not want to wrestle.  Welcome to Potato Land, let me show you our lovely pastures." Tommy laughed: "Ha ha ha, you are a girl, how can you be the most powerful?"  To which Polly took great offence and squished him with one finger!

Tommy had been humiliated and felt embarrassed.  As he started to cry, Polly apologised and told him: "You should never think you are stronger because you are a boy.  Never underestimate anybody in life. Be proud to be red, round and handsome.  We all have our strengths and we all have our weaknesses. Be a dignified tomato."

Tommy had learnt his lesson.  As Tina hugged him, he also realised the value of being humble and true friendship.  

6 May 2016

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2016

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Where echoes hide

Help me please... I need your HELP!
These voices in my head won't stop
You think I'm crazy - look at me like I'm mad!
Deranged echoes hammer against my head
ringing louder.. LOUDER... LOUDER!!!
Delusions, deranged, disturbed thoughts plague me
frequently telling me I will die if I don't listen to them
I don't want to cut myself, but they say I'm a failure
I don't want to shout in rage, but they say I'm worthless
but, sometimes they make a funny joke and I sit laughing
Sometimes.. They tell me they love me.. They care for me
But, then they tell me to do evil things
dark demonic voices plunge me into despair
I don't want to harm that child!!  GO AWAY!!!!
Please... I beg you... Please, someone save me
from this repetition of imitations reverberating repeatedly
like percussion instruments echoing.. ECHOING..ECHOING 

Or maybe I should listen to them.. Maybe they are my only friend
Maybe they are right... You are all wrong.. At least they understand me

Where Echoes Hide - Poetry Contest by John Lawless
14 December 2015

Studies have found that between four and 10 per cent of people across the world hear voices.
Between 70 and 90 cent of people who hear voices do so following traumatic events.
Voices can be male, female, without gender, child, adult, human or non-human.
People may hear one voice or many. Some people report hearing hundreds, although in almost all reported cases, one dominates above the others.
Voices can be experienced in the head, in the ears, outside the head, in some other part of the body, or in the environment.
Voices often reflect important aspects of the hearer’s emotional state – emotions that are often unexpressed by the hearer.
The international hearing voices network

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2015