Best Allegedly Poems
She told me to write about love…
…fine.
…
I gave up on you.
I gave up on your testaments.
I gave up on the way you said to hold on tight.
You told me you would hold me like you used to.
You told me you would scold me like you used to.
Because I liked your attitude,
Allegedly.
…
I would be taken aback
When the sunflowers finally
Noticed the rhythm in my strut
When Mondays would pass by without a suicidal teardrop
But still I
Gave up on
The endlessness
Of you
Striking these vindicated ivories
To a song you didn’t want to hear
You left me unspoken
An empty chorus.
Until I grabbed my pen…
…to become the composer of my tomorrows.
Without you.
The Unnecessary.
©Tacito
Masha Amini was an Iranian woman who was kept captive in jail for clamoring for Women’s Rights. Later she died in police custody under suspicious circumstances. Her death led to widespread civil unrest and protests. This is in the voice of Masha/ Civil uprising in Iran-Year, 2022
What crime did I do to deserve this?
To be brutally beaten and imprisoned?
When rapists, rogues and robbers roam scot-free
What crime did I do to deserve this persecution?
I am a woman of self-respect and dignity
I believe man and woman have equal rights
I wish to see my sisters walk in dignity
I can’t but rebel against all man-made manacles,
That bind a woman’s hands and legs,
Putting shackles on her mind, and body.
My mind revolts when we can’t walk free.
So offensive it is to cover our heads with hijab
And wrap ourselves in several folds of linen.
I feel it a blatant denial of human rights.
I am sure the unreasonable restrictions imposed,
Will smother and cripple the fair sex.
I am allegedly arrested and am now in prison bars,
For violating and disrespecting Iran’s ‘Modesty code’
The fanatics dream that with my death,
The clamor for freedom will die down.
I am sure it will only blaze fierce in future days,
Thousands will join, holding hands,
Pledging their solidarity for a common cause,
Drawing inspiration from me and women like me.
Again, our shrieks for freedom,
Can never be stifled or silenced.
In cloistered darkness, I wait,
Hoping to witness a bright sunrise.
imagine any haunted house to have:
Creaking stairways
Whispering blinds
Creepy doorways
Blood-curdling sounds
Spooky cob-webs
Ominous darkness
Ghastly shadows
Dreadful loneliness
Spine tingling shrieks
Owls hooting
Things that make
Your skin crawl
Foreboding terror
An eerie silence
yet squeaky rats
A threatening suspense
with fluttering bats.
Thus a place crawling with,
oversized gnats
scurrying brats
and all kinds of scary things lurking about
except for scaredy-cats .
Like me of the fraidy cats
Tell me would you dare to venture
Into such a house
For a halloweenish midnight adventure ?
(Ok happened to pass an allegedly haunted abandoned house that most people don't want to venture in and I enjoyed scarifying myself thinking about it in the poetic way above for fun)
YIKES, I'M ALREADY SCARED.!
Allow me explain
Brethren gathered here for
Custom dictates
Due process prevail
Exaggerated much
Flaws mine-as may seem
Granted the providence of evidence you see
Highly placed the source-allegedly
Inconceivable the idea that falsehoods they be
Jury decide-be it she or be it me
Kissing and telling discretely-of course
Listlessly I will you tell this tale, you see
My wife's mother's brother's valet-who doubles as mine
Noticed a queerness about this chambermaid fine
Opulent her head with silky tresses
Perfect her skin as nothing else is
Quenching a thirst as non I ever knew
Repugnant as I found the idea,true
Sacrifices always must be made for
The greater good of humankind sake
Ungodly as you all will agree this meeting between her and me
Vestments would not keep me away
Witchcraft! That's what we suspected for how else could I a Lord be so blinded
Xylophone music was all that I heard while headily begging for her hasty embrace
Yet how was this Lord ever to know that
Zealotry was for chambermaid's too?
I love you but I don’t know why.
I love your lips which seem too thin
for a kind person, your grey-green
deceitful eyes which are too dry
and too unmerciful to cry
for broken hearts. I love your skin
which chilly whiteness is akin
to fallen snow in hot July.
I love your blush when I begin
to talk of the engagement ring
which I allegedly have bought.
I love you but I don’t know why
I love. The only thing that I
don't love is that you love me not.
A modified French sonnet (abba abba bbc Aac)… Hm, wait a sec, that's what I'll call you! A French abc-sonnet :3
Laws of Motion
First law: An object at rest will stay there wondering how it got there while the object in motion will wander wondering how do I get there.
Second Law: Force will often cause the objects in the first law to negotiate a truce.
Third Law: For every action there is an inaction responsible for the reaction
2. Law of Universal Aggravation
Any two in close proximity to each other will engage in moronic behavior and unchallenged chatter until one holds up a sign.
3. Thermodynamics
First Law: Energy cannot be created or destroyed but it can be held hostage by a couch and a bag of chips
Second law: Entropy, as a measure of disorder, increases in direct proportion to the number of government employees allegedly “working” from home.
Third Law: As the temperature approaches zero the remaining government employees will be told to stay at home.
4. Quantum Superposition: Government employees can exist in multiple states or places simultaneously until retirement.
5. The Doppler Effect: The observed frequency of activity (e.g., sight and sound) is dependent on where the participants are relative to each other.
6. Dormat’s Principle: Light takes the path that enables the politician to never see its shadow.
Written: January 20, 2024
___________________________________________
Sibylline stammer upswells
I'd explore my innermost self
My precious blue earplugs,
which I dropped in 6th grade,
Will be retrieved as I seek zealous bliss
an elusive state seems to evade me,
seldom beyond brief cameos.
A friend got me a sadness box,
and years later, I felt it was his finest gift,
I'd start on a quest to find my jejunity spirit,
Innocence without current anguish
I aspire to recover my purity.
Once eternal faith in various altruism won,
alas, I intend to revive my heart
with a firm faith in a transcendental force.
I'd painstakingly dig for my roots-my core
that molded my identity,
I doubt I can reveal these gems,
a box of sights might be full and unfathomable.
If I find these elusive things,
my propensity to sustain them is dubious,
even in its brittle grace, Earth is iffy,
for squandering what is precious.
But my glance would persist,
I believe that remaining hopeful is crucial,
against allegedly overwhelming odds.
I may not recover everything I lost,
my genuine self may be detected,
since that's all that matters.
Written: November 09, 2023
________________________________________
An allegedly assured affix
distracted by wistfulness
to assess arousal of anguish,
wherewithal shadows tackle by day
amidst thick mist, in propinquity dry wells.
carrying a titian heartbreak on my shoulder.
a gentle regret that is not a zenith dread;
brocade as taffeta, a bluesy lullaby.
spun from gentle yarns; weaved.
Striving to scale a sibilant soil surface
toward porous roots of sequoia
trapped by the force of gravity.
allow only tangerine tears to flow
from my sorrow.
Getting into the quagmire.
in quest of one's fortitude.
whilst waiting for syzygy perigee,
to occur on perihelion.
Many place names in Australia reek of notoriety and oppression
Where massacres took place, involved first nation native population,
men, women and children, demonstrates gross inhumane expression
Many of these place names remain, Bones Knob, Murderers Flat, Skull Creek
are mapped in a university publication
The area where my family resided
may similarly have followed, same infamous identification
My paternal Scottish ancestors, original settlers on our family farm from eighteen sixties,
a time of many massacres
With axes sweat and labour cleared the timber, populated the land with sheep
Were they involved in a massacre? And if so, my father, was it a secret he did keep ?
Existing on the nearest road a signpost declaring Butchers Ridge
only a couple of hundred metres from the old original family home
Allegedly named after a horse called Butcher
far and wide he purportedly did roam
When I was young, the story I was told about this horse
he repeatedly escaped from his owners farm, crossed a bridge
Was always discovered on a sloping piece of land,
hence the area was given the name of Butchers Ridge
A different story of the naming of this area which makes more sense
was revealed by mother after father passed away
A massacre took place giving this area its name, about which my father never spoke
did my father bear inherited shame ? It's history now no one can really say
One full moonlit night, around the time of one unable to sleep
decided to arise, some teenage pleasure I would seek
Go fishing catch a big bag of speckled brown trout
from the stream there known as Butchers Creek
Halfway between the house and my intended destination
an eerie whooshing sound right above my head
Look up !! Nothing visible on this very still clear night
Very quickly reverse my fishing decision !!! Hastily run back to the safety of my bed !!!
I have spoken to several first nation dreamtime elders about this weird eerie sound
i experienced on that distant fishing full moonlit night
They say its first nation native spirits venting anger
thus responsible for my fear. I think they may be right
Uncouth, unschooled in art,
that's what you'll say of me,
You know, I've tried so hard,
but I still have to see
da Vinci's Mona Lisa's mythic,
mystic smile
bewitching folks allegedly
even from a mile.
It looks to me she parts
her lips so daintily
to let a drunken hiccup out
so gracefully,
or stop a vulgar burp,
hyperacidity,
or hide those nicotine-blackened
teeth artfully.
But honestly, nothing in her
mouth's symmetry
remotely resembles a smiling
mystery,
perhaps she's toothless, some
dental deformity,
believe you me, I took up
ortho-dentistry!
Water drop
Anguish
Cries
Out
Did I need to taste your sorrow?
She drowned me
While screaming fixated curiosities
Why I would not return
Oblivious to the obvious
Dilapidated wonder-wall
dripping concrete uncertainty
The fusion of incomprehensible dependency
retarding mass exodus of heart
As she cries all over again
I become a ripped towelette
thrown over her tattered neck of loneliness,
rushing into enigmatic corazon
I embrace familiar barrier
blocking out ultraviolet massacres
speaking subdued tongues,
another floating perdition
needing
a new painting against recycled canvas
Sweet dreams made
of
nothing
Did I need to taste the desolate madrigal
that I see running towards conundrum's savior,
still ready to love me tomorrow?
This heart is full.
I remove her weeping moon
searching for crescent bounds,
riding precipitous eclipse
My ears lie against vertigo's throat of irregularities
As she begs for the liar to return home
Because I always mattered
in the end
Allegedly
© Drake J. Eszes
"Forever will a scar remain upon broken ties. Memories serve to both assure and ruin in my eyes." -Anonymous
410 AD when mythology takes hold
Barbarians threaten to conquer Rome
Roman troops abandon Britain, head home
But Chieftain Vortigern seizes the throne
Britain’s new king sought to flex his power
Mt. Snowden’s site chosen for his tower
But before Vortigern builders cowered
Ever-crumbling walls left his face sour
Soothsayers were beckoned and wove a tale
A fatherless boy must be brought to Wales
His blood be shed and his future curtailed
If hopes for the tower were to prevail
A princess was said to have spawned an heir
Whose father had simply vanished in air
Leaving the single mother in despair
And the ghost’s voice she still heard she declared
Her son Merlin was brought before the king
Vortigern scowled when he began laughing
Merlin said ‘neath the tower lay a spring
That’s why its unsettled walls kept crumbling
He claimed serpents were below ground as well
The king quickly fell under the boy’s spell
Diggers found both as the lad did foretell
Merlin’s life spared, his reputation swelled
To escape wrath from a king with clout
The tower’s real problem this boy figured out
The “magician” name he could do without
But a sharp wiz kid was Merlin, no doubt
*Friends, I did extensive research on Merlin
and this is what I learned. Is the story true?
Yes, to the best of my knowledge.
Vortigern was a true character and this is
allegedly how he discovered Merlin.
Described as “patriot of patriots” by Mahatma Gandhi
His Words, ‘Give me blood and I shall give you freedom’
Are still ringing in the minds of each and every Indian.
He stood for unqualified Freedom with the use of force
Meaning quite against with Gandhi’s non-violent ways.
Subhas Bose presumed to have died on 18 August 1945
On Taipei Airport in a plane crash but with no evidence.
The mystery of his death and survival haunts the Indians.
The inability of the three commissions to unravel the truth
Spawned umpteen conspiracy theories left people in awe.
First commission visited Japan in 1956 and got testimonies
From army surgeons conducting blood transfusion to Bose
But he succumbed to death on August 18, 1945, at Taipei.
Second commission carried its probe from 1974-78 and
Declared its inability to arrive on any definite conclusion.
The verdict of the third commission was quite amazing
It simply said Bose was dead, but didn’t die in plane crash
How and when? No answer in the absence of any proof.
Concluding report tabled in parliament in May 2006
Declaring that death was staged to facilitate his escape.
And there are lots of evidences showing that he was alive
The first being the soviet angle of Stalin and Molotov
Discussing as to whether Bose should remain in the country.
In 1991 a letter written by him found in the KGB archive
dated 1946 that he had safely reached the then Soviet Union.
And there are conspiracy theories abound on Bose’s death
Allegedly both the Congress leadership and the Government
Afraid of Bose’s possible return to India and his impact
None to stop him to come to power as worshipped by people.
He was posthumously awarded Bharat Ratna in 1992,
A highest civilian award but later withdrawn on the ground
As the Award committee failed to give evidence of his death.
Even the Taiwan Government confirmed of no plane accident
And U.S. Department of State supported the claim of Taiwan.
=====================================================
Second Place win:
Contest: Unsolved Mysteries by Carolyn Deveonshire
*Inspired and credits to the reports published on the web*
Classes scattered throughout the week,
learning the right way to speak.
People swarm in hoards,
living in brick-walled wards.
Allegedly adults,
without the results.
More space to learn who to be,
strong hands guiding us how to see.
Plenty of peers,
all trying to find their own careers,
Each group has their flaws,
some bending the laws.
But it will be fun they say
I just shrug and walk away.
to try the next group.
Classes are one to three hours,
but the homework towers.
No car, no cash
lots of stress, and still in class.
Join our political movement,
without us, there can be no improvement
opinions cover the walls,
you can try to argue if you've got the balls.
How do people not know how to use a hammer,
Its 2 am and they are making a clamor.
deadlines creep and crawl
like centipedes on the wall
Roommate needs the room for a while,
I come back and the smell is vile.
get soundproof headphones
they block the sound of needy hormones.
Computer broke,
why is it pouring out smoke?
Assignment due in the morning
overheating warning?
me and the computer both
"It's a life lesson"
Oh thanks, what a blessing.
No cats to cuddle the stress away
it's hard to not dismay.
One more day
one more week
I can say
the pattern gets bleak.
But time will pass
I just need to survive this class.
Public Convenience
A war ‘nowhere near me’ is a concept that does not exist
an oxymoron so to speak and weep and cry or believe
propaganda for the convenience of denying responsibility
Wars allegedly ‘afar’ is a notion too far removed from the
distortion that you and I do not benefit from the slaughter
as the wealth of some is built on the shoulders of many
who suffer for global greed oil exploitation geopolitical
domination for booming stock markets and neoliberal evil
Call me touchy feely or a pacifist to discredit my knowledge
but my paradigm is one of hard core sober fact that in my
name and without my direct consent rape pillage and plunder
deface the human condition and legalize collateral damage
What a euphemism to ask me to close my eyes in view of
pulverised people atomised ashes and call them not near
Rapacious avarice or conscientious objection to misleading
terms and diminutive are a choice very close to my heart
20th May 2017