Best Affright Poems


Premium Member One Brief Moment

Look...See how long nights are drawing in.
Dreary birdsong gradually abates -
Opaque dusk grows dim;
And just outside the creaky little garden
Gate,
Stood opposite the empty wood
Where the vacant threshold silently awaits,
I pause, when, resonating quietly back...
I now hear...
Far distant echoes of my glorious childhood 
Tugging like a Siren upon my ear.


With a heartfelt pang I turn to move,
Before my staring should offend some 
Old friends ghost
To manifest in vengeful affright,
Towards the comforting sanctuary proffered
By the warm kitchens weak neon light...
That sneaks out from behind the half-shut
Door,
But held - Transfixed! 
Brought from wither-not-where to this one
Small place - Staid...
As if caught in a state of heavenly grace,
Conversing to the soft wind in harmonious 
Angelic rapport:-
Thus soothes like enchantments waves...
Rolling gently up to repeatedly break upon 
Magical banks girdling Nivians lakeshore.


For what be this odd muse 
That upon my aging senses does so readily
Enthuse...
And to my inner soul so inextricably
Implore?
Ahhh...But this much I may be allowed to 
Say,
Before darkly gathering skies extinguish 
Over weak flames of the last spluttering
Ray,
Perhaps it is our inner voice
That seeks out the solitudes of 
Tranquilities choice -
To witness and record and dutifully store...
Those rare and fleeting moments 
We all too briefly adore.
Form: Rhyme

Rain

The fact of losing you wasn't that much devastating. You evaporated too fast like water. And so it didn't give me affright. I know you're like water, you'll precipitate one day.  
 
And so, that one day came by destiny. I was in my room when it rained pieces of you. I went outside and felt the touch I've missed for somehow a long time. I enjoyed your every drop, the petrichor and the moist.  
 
I badly wanted you back. I longed for the water which drowns me in love. The water that gives me life every time I'm dehydrated. The water that forgives whoever I am. Only if I could collect all of your pieces and bring you back to my life forever, without you being gone once more. But I know, it will never happen.  
 
For now, I enjoy your unexpected visits and perchance sojourns. I relish your every coming. In that way, I still manage to have you, even though I know you have to evaporate again.
Form: Prose

How Bout Stoichiometry For a Conversational Hook

How 'Bout Stoichiometry For A Conversational Hook?

Nary a clue exists about
     the relationship between
relative quantities of substances
     taking part in a clean
(non GMO contaminated) 
     gluten free reaction,
     or forming a mean
compound, typically a ratio

     of whole integers umpteen
place holders long proudly,
     (albeit microscopically)
     swaggering analogous
     to a prideful
     home coming queen
walking with her beau
     appearing much older looking

     than a latte (drinking) teen,
the third word up above, (affright
full looking, isle
     lid lashing sorely,
     trying, torquing, and
     testing vision, i.e. eye sight),
where with insight
red left to right

across conventionally,
     sans persons write
ting, and/or read
     ding English, who might
live within neck of the woods,
     how zing this knight,
where the whirled wide webbing
     haint so bright

this smart aleck (comprised
     fancy title), excite
ting immediate uptight
reaction came to "light"
just in the nick of time
     to spur a sprite
lee chary reader to take
     pro nouns hubble flight

(at what the ĵ** -
     in reference quite
understandably to multi
     syllable chemical airtight
romance masquerade),
     this barred bard did write

unfamiliar word, which undoubtedly
     triggered consternation,
     and fierce urge to bite
and/ or sentence this "FAKE" cur,
     who whiz unable to height
ten interest toward me senseless
     poetics with supreme delight.


Premium Member My Thoughts On Cancel Culture


My Thoughts On Cancel Culture
Written: by Miracle Man
November 1, 2021

Cancel culture is stealing our freedom of speech,
when we disagree, practitioners will impeach.
We can express an opinion only if it agrees,
but canceled out by our refusal to appease.

Someone’s always offended by something we say,
is it really the speech or socialist way?
Perhaps its a logo that has caused our affright,
disagreements, then become, social media fights.

Daily I'm offended by something in my sight,
but I quickly remember that they too have a right.
We appear set in our ways refusing to bend,
I think the main reason, is we're just too thin skinned.
© Tom Wright  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Ballad of Clifford Griffin

In the spring of 1880 young Clifford Griffin immigrated from England to Colorado.
The death of his fiancee left him bereft and he was searchin' for his El Dorado.
He settled in Silver Plume where he and his brother bought the Seven Thirty Mine.
Clifford and his brother Heneage became very rich from ore that assayed very fine!

With all his riches, Clifford chose to live in his lonely cabin above the town.
His only companion was his treasured violin which he played with some renown!
His melancholy melodies wafted down from his mountain aerie 'most every night,
To be heard by the whiskey-guzzlin' hard-scrabble miners to their delight!

Clifford always dressed in black, enjoyed fine cigars and was quite the dashin' bloke!
He seemed content with his solitary life and in business was as solid as an oak!
Alas, death cast its gloomy pall high above Silver Plume one moonlit night.
Instead of sweet violin music, a single shot was heard that left the town affright!

Next morn his mortal remains were found in a grave he'd dug for himself alone.
His heart-broken brother found the pistol with which his brains he had blown.
A grand monument was erected atop the mountain just above Silver Plume,
At the very spot where Clifford lay midst the ponderosa and Columbine bloom!

Mysterious events now occur on that lonely mountainside accordin' to local lore!
'Tis said on moonlit nights sad violin music is heard below on the valley floor!
Folks have seen a black-clad phantom smokin' a cigar and drawin' a bow,
Playin' melancholy music and a wraith in Clifford's likeness a-swayin' to and fro!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved

Entry for Carol Eastman's "Story Poem" Contest
Form: Ballad

Premium Member My Thoughts On Aging

Just yesterday morning while shaving my face,
I looked in the mirror in total dismay;
my once youthful looks somehow time did erase,
and there stood a stranger with age on display.

My once raven hair has now turned a dull white,
and under my eyes there are bags that outrage;
my chicken skin neck is now looking affright;
I hate to admit it, I’m showing my age.

Not sure when it happened but gives me a pause;
the aging in life is still nature’s decree.
But better the aging and live with the cause,
than pushing up daisies beneath an oak tree. 



August 2, 2018
Form: Rhyme


Wind Up Humanism

Realm of humankind wheedled in reset,
Homeland beray, lull to beset, 

Scrawling the parchment to a keyset,
Xenophobia in callousness, 
Dearth to darn the clout concord. 

Orness synergy alliance the terrene.
Berth errand the rassle office,
Commissions detach the hassle orifice... 

Pensile the ensile spirits,
Circumscissile recoiled resiliency, 
Nuanced tensile expansionism... 

Normalise a new normal,
Order the prime heart to bloom,
Taper our united dreg to blossom... 

Blight in frights, 
Dight the twinight against any affright,
Infinity within.

Premium Member Like Diamonds In the Trees

Like Diamonds in the Trees

The freezing rain fell through the night
as Mother Nature cast her curse
and in the morn the world affright.
The chilling sight seemed so adverse;
a frozen wasteland getting worse.

But sunrise on the second day
found Mother Nature’s new display
as in the trees with icy tone
reflections in the sun’s bright ray
like diamonds on the branches shown.


February 6, 2022
Dizain
Form: Dizain

Lavish Praise Not Sought

Painful self actualization
quickly brights to light
paltry reasons (with or
without rhyme) a desolate sight
within blinkered mindseye hindsight

grotesque grimace shocks with affright
desolate landscape 
precipitated when airtight
vacuum sealed sequestered,
muckraked, furloughed...

which past existence now doth bite
back with a vengeance more agonizing
than any imaginable plight
feeble effort thru poetry
to portray psychological bombsight

cathartic, emetic, pathetic... ejection
minus (all gore rhythm)
red tattered torn flesh ala bullfight,
vigil held under
deathly hallowed candlelight
lack of living will trumped right

against autopsy, eh
scant material worth any copyright
deceased did request mourners
to revel in daylight
of life (l'chaim) delight

within simple pleasures downright
unfettered, yet respectful
of self and others fight
for peace with strong lanced arms,
yet...shy away from fistfight

while standing firm 
on righteous ground,
versus passively taking flight
modestly acknowledge accomplishments,
sans reflection initial birthed floodlight
ideally rejoice asper positive contribution

within webbed, wide world despite
shortcomings vis a vis height
insight, might,... dismissing as trite
customary, healthy, quality traits
sustaining virtuous yeast

leavening kindled hindsight
carried into darkness of afterlife
soul asylum void of oblivion
analogous to eternal midnight,
where surviving kin begat,

viz biological millwright,
which sunny daughters
became darling lasses overnight
I ask do not weep, nor mourn,
neither heap exaggerated flattery, quite

upon the head of
this beastly boyish sight,
whose dying wish
expansive though slight

points to stopping for persons white
red, brown, black...since one's birth
until...final seconds usher
mortal into twilight!

A Hopeless Optimist

My hope was my delight boundless,
Unfettered, unbridled!
It unfolded a conformity in my life
Albeit many stumbles and 
Discords of life I survived, 

Life’s evil breaths had scalded my redolent hope,
My silent words were hardly heard, 
Hardly understood!
From life to life I pursued the hope,
It was crumpled, dead and alive again!

A south wind once blew over me, it brought the 
Herald of hope, my hope was enough to affright
A dystopia filled with greed and elitism,
Unwavering were my subdued instincts to my hopes 
And desires in delights and despair, 

They evoked me desperately to sojourn  
For a while in this chaotic earth to acknowledge
Its rendition of humanism, its entente with mankind, 
I found for certain, my hope had to
Strive more to win out!
Form: Verse

Slumdogs

We are the children of time 
That big round clock 
Arms like arrows 
Not a minute to be wasted 
In this precious cycle 
Of ambition 
We succeed 
While hearts bleed
Yet we go on and on. 
Growing up isn't tough 
Mature before puberty 
Nature versus nurture 
A mind like ours is never a child 
We are born fighters 
Running full speed 
Living the modern life 24*7.

Childhood was no fairytale 
Education only for the male 
Running the household 
Responsibility of the female.
Every mark mattered 
Couldn't afford to fail 
We had dreams to go to Yale 
Lopsided economies of scale.

Never heard a nursery rhyme 
Anything but calculus was a crime 
Professors of arts and humanities
Never earned a dime.
Peter Pan a fantasy 
Charlie's chocolates a forbidden ecstacy
Mowgli a triviality 
Winnie the Pooh served no practicality.

Industrious (child) laborers like us 
Live in a world of reality 
Where domestic violence is a commonality 
Amidst high infant mortality.
Basic necessities are scarce 
All the money gobbled up 
By the fatty Babu's of 
Our royal municipality.
Nasty neighborhood to live in 
Mass murders ain't a confidentiality 
Mafia's rewarded for their masculinity
No individuality 
Fear of homosexuality.

Dreaming dreams do no harm 
Waking up punched in the stomach
Not aided by an alarm 
Learning to shoot a gun before ABC 
My basti had no dearth of firearm 
Attracting pity is our only charm.

Working day and night 
50 rupees a month
One meal a day
Is our only right 
Reading by the moonlight 
Whenever free 
If caught dozing off 
Whipped brutally by the underdog 
A terrible affright 
No FIRs for our measly plight

To get out of that clumsy area 
Is a dream a come true 
But every Chotu 
Doesn't have a happy ending.
When you are but a mule 
A tiny part of a big racket 
Any wrong move 
And you are smashed like a bee 
Slammed like a fist 
Held in a cage 
Anything but flying free.
Gaining independence is rare 
Thinking of freedom a dare 
Every chaiwala ain't no 
Slumdog millionaire.

Premium Member I Am African

I am African, I affirm that i am Original African 
untainted, unblenched, unsoiled. 
I am African, 
with all the dignity of the first human. 
unashamed, unbowed, undaunted.  I am African.
unique, culturally so. 
I am from the people whose origin birthed all others, 
the first creatures of Earth. 
I am African, 
Boldly I declare,  
with this strength and sinews affirming, 
though they obscure my origin with fabrication, 
and contorted the fact with lies,
Yet, my spirit aligning with the truth undeniable, I am African.
Though the glare of calumny opposes,
and unvoiced spite rent my melanin, 
I stand unfettered declaring, I am African.
unrestricted traversing the globe, 
from this climes to India, 
I carry beauty across continents
sowing seeds everywhere. 
I bore the heat unblenched.
I retain the goodness of Gold.
This sun does not affright. 
it leaves no particles with the scourge.
When you see me touring the Land with strength,
Remember,   
I am African.

In the Beginning Was the Word

In the beginning was the Word…
And only then was the world.
Out of chaos and the darkness,
Out of nowhere and the blackness…
Something more than a miracle happened
Filled with warmth and light that sparkled.

The world got name and became alive! 
All around began to thrive.
Not in gratitude, not out of a sense of duty
It believed in truly saints and only beauty.
Eyes opened and stood in delight
It could invite, excite but not to affright.

In the beginning was the Word…
And that word was God.
Earth and sky, the stars and oceans,
Without emotions but with devotions.
Rains and snows, beauty forebodes
And even the dust of not traversed roads.

It would be ridiculous and naive 
To dream about the dawns, be a sensitive.
To be the hands on the starry clock,
To make on the land a beautiful woodblock.
As all that had already been put wise.
And in time the Sun could arise.

In the beginning was the Word…
And that word was Peace
Everything could freely breathe.
If you remove it, the chaos will again start,
The universal fear and black exhaustion,
The indifference and world of combustion.

The worm of doubts shouldn’t gnaw the heart!
The rest is later and the second will be smart.
For some it is unusual and one can’t agree
But as to me in different way it could not be.
You have to hear Him to be reborn again.
His Word is saint and everything explain.

In the beginning was the Word…
And that word was Love.
The beginning of all beginnings and all the springs,
The beginning of all the most beautiful things.
The beginning of all the sources and a new start.
You have to hear it and know: IT IS THE GODS ART.

In the beginning was the Word…

©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)

Bombay Missiles

From the eyes of Shangri-la and words indited in bulletin
spoken by  bellwethers and imagery on broadcasts
Felt the passing of breaths and federation menace.

The scourge abided by cause of hooliganism
By a group of libertine, 
Held, ye plot to an affright baker’s dozen bams.
He who fended collared gravely, and he who
Fathered, headed for the hills. 
Passing of breaths and the devour city
Bellowing mother’s cry and bemused father
The helpless baby yet addled with a smile.
The speechless contrarian and the stock market blues
Mongers fall back and the bollywood whodunit. 
Queried world and hastening federations 
The eventual address to make for red alert. 

Staked City and yet another lionize attack
To their day of remembrance on the cause of vandalism
Dawdled to a tetrad later 
Abided by the juvenility of their community
Held, ye plot to an heptad bams.
Office hour rushed shush dead to the world
Aghast citizenry and deplorable family
Her plighting husband to return and son’s oft exacts
Left apart for an unknown time.

Ruled by terrorism, shame upon faith
Around-the-clock yet another hark back
Abided by the army of pure
Held, ye plot to tenner explosions.
Challenges taken were overwhelm 
An arrest bore witness
Yet, 
From the eyes of Shangri-la and words indited in bulletin
spoken by  bellwethers and imagery on broadcasts
Felt the passing of breaths and federation menace.
Form: Elegy

Abrasive Hawk

What gallant form from vaunted perch doth alight
Leaving tailwind that unassuming gawkers affright
Whose tawny shadow the sun's rays doth blight;
Swarthy silhouette shading glint so erudite
Whose tan-welted oars the azure seas doth smite;
With swift strokes the ethereal waves doth unrequite
Whose beige shield occludes satin rampart's line of sight;
O'er satin folds his opaque image doth highlight
What spindling machine doth wind's billowy currents spite,
With each sweeping motion a cylinder doth ignite
What grainy visage doth earth's footstool beknight,
With majestic crown his diminutive subjects delight
What predator drone spreads its cerebral kite;
Soaring fowl, creeping ermine safe sanctuary to slight
Whose steely eyes sky's tenants doth frivolously indict;
His insatiable, rapacious appetite to expedite
Form: Rhyme

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