Best Antithesis Poems


Premium Member Gravity

Gravity conquers desire
It devours and absorbs all
In the black colorless heaviness of the inevitable
It is the ballast of conflict, fear and hate
Its weight takes everything in the fall
Hope, faith and joy all fail in its evolution
Before the powerless sovereign gate
Closed and locked
Imprisoning the spirit to degenerate
From the freedom to unfold
The Karmic soul's fate
This breed of men and thought
In the times of now and not
Is the reason for wars and discontent
The wrought iron passage to nothingness
To free the change
To light the way and eliminate
This dark and human less place
Gravity it seems to me
Is not what it means to be
It simply holds the universal place
When it comes to setting us free
We are the Captors and Creators
That harbor its departure to be so
Free

Extraordinary Man, Antithesis To Phenomenal Woman

written last year after Maya Angelou"s death-


Men wonder wherein my charm lies-
I'm not good looking or athletic in size-
I try to tell the guys,
But some think I'm telling lies.
I say to them,
It's how I carry myself-
Honesty in my eyes,
Politeness in my talk,
Gentleness in my actions,
Conviction in my walk.
I'm a gentleman
Extraordinaire-
Extraordinary man,
That's me!

I walk into a room,
And smile at those around-
I greet each one with cheer,
And soon the girls surround.
I don't brag or shout-
It's not me I talk about.
To the guys, I say,
It's how I carry myself-
Not egotistical, but proud,
Not meek, but not too loud-
Just old-fashioned gentility,
Ladies first, then me.
I'm a gentleman
Extraordinaire-
Extraordinary man,
That's me!

My secret lies within-
I'm neat, don't cheat,
Don't lie, steal or swear,
And always try to be fair-
But it's more than that I say to them.
It's life that I embrace-
It's how I carry myself-
Urbane,
With grace,
Never trying to disgrace-
I'm a gentleman 
Extraordinaire-
Extraordinary man,
That's me!

Antithesis of Seeking

The extent you search determines the extent you see…
For searching equates missing which manifests not seeing that which is their however not 
noticed…
The one eternal moment is now or now or now…
Not existing previous or after…
Only our minds cloud the stillness clarity pool attempting to clean its mud coated hands…
The mind has two hands existing in two pools…
The muddy media marsh surrounding the inner purity lagoon…
With stillness I observe this moment…
With stillness I swim in the now sea…
Present awareness mirrors inner feeling into that which the seeker aimlessly seeks…


Premium Member Antithesis

Antithesis

In May, the lion’s ear blooms immaculately,
As if the night sky is on fire.
It excretes a ravishing untarnished beauty,
A mesmerizing compelling beauty
Only the mad mystics and poets can discern.
Here, put on these rubber sandals;
The pair with the ostrich plumes,
For the walkway to my hidden tower is replete, 
With thorns, bristles and stickers; the ladder there
Has splinters that anesthetize one’s toes,
Your plump white toes with the crimson polish,
Applied there like bloody footsteps on murderous floors.
There is nothing we can do to offset the numbing,
Except, pretend we never met or kissed that time,
When we decided to dare the gods of crescendoing passion.
I remember you decided unilaterally 
To disrobe inside my ‘72 Land Yacht,
For fear of eternally disappointing me.
“Here, take my hat and cover yourself.”
Indeed, you are the antithesis of me.
But now, let us walk to my high garlanded tower,
A mile and a quarter from here, 
Where we will sit naked on velvet carpet,
And rub thumbs in the candle light,
As Debussy music inundates our sated senses,
From speakers attached to the walls like bison heads,
Surrounded by insect-slaughtered window panes,
And glass bongs that spew atoms of electric sex.
Relax honey, it’s wonderful you’re so open-minded.
Relax, you will love the interesting insides
Of my tall and comfortable tower, where
We will observe the unfolding continuing tragedies, 
Of dire human existence; it will be
Just like reading old newspapers from 1968, black print
Still greasy with unslaughtered fish, complete
With disastrous headlines no one wants to remember. But
We, you and I, will remember them, and weep a little,
When the mad dancing inevitably commences,
Here, inside and beside our grinding bodies.
Look over there, honey.
Do you see the lion’s ear blooming immaculately?
Do you hear their soft cries whimpering in the night,
Like virgin lovers squealing in the darkness?
Yes honey, we can hear their invisible sighs and moans,
From the top of my high
And comfortable tower.

Antithesis

Everything is
Nothing
or
Nothing is
Everything

No is
Yes
or
Yes is
No

Beginning is
Ending
or
Ending is
Beginning

At the end
confusional illusion
or delusional confusion !

© Mahtab Bangalee

Premium Member Fragments of 1972

Fragments of 1972
David J Walker

I carry the year 1972 
in a leather messengers bag
That sags and strains the strap from my 
shoulder to my hip 
and I claim
to open it only 
once a year at midnight 
but that is a malleable lie
that has 
morphed as I have aged  
Have you ever raged at a minor 
		Injustice
Do you trust your minister to dispense 
		Only the holy truth
Are you glad that you are not
		A traffic cop
		Directing traffic
Do you believe you can solve the world’s problems
		By inviting everyone
		One at a time 
		To be your neighbor
Do you ever see yourself as the antithesis 
		Of a solution
		To a problem that
		You were the only one 
Who didn’t know
My calendar is a fragmented rag and has lost
		The first week of 
		January
		including next Wednesday
When I go back there I feel 
		Overdressed and
		Out of place


Antithesis

Both the beginning and ending at once
A fractured peace of tears and smiles
The love for and loathing of self
A shattered mirror no more than glass

Life swore a vow and broke it
A curse of despair and hope
Nothing will change if not changed
The paradox of existence

The temerity of the desperate and hopeful
Tasting the inevitable and looking to the sunrise
Breath’s inspiration and expiration 
Suspirations of joy and sorrow

The hopeless are the helpless
Nothing remains for them but ashes and dust
A figment in the endless revolution of day and night
That we are more than fleeting

Premium Member antithesis

a crepuscular forest of shadows,
of fierce animal boding -
devout day-mare crossfire

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