Best Betraying Poems


Premium Member Floating

The people of this world are like the three butterflies in front of a candle's flame.
The first one went closer and said:I know about love.
The second one touched the flame lightly with his wings and said:
I know how love's fire can burn.
The third one threw himself into the heart of the flame and was consumed.
The alone knows what true love is.
Rumi


I sit alone in a silent field of fairness,
under saffron rays kissing sunflower serenity,
among dawn's daisies and dusk's dandelions -
watching buds floating away with whisking winds.

Fate does not favour my quest to soar freely.
In a meadow of humanity's betraying breaths,
our buttercup souls become ambushed by a suffocation of sighs.
When there is no justice in spiteful judgement,
visions of Basilisk slither with a deadly gaze.
Envious eyes poisoned by potions of venom,
abuse the selfless mistress of my garden's muse -
but without Eve there would be no Adam nor Eden.

Weeping on the grave of her past self,
her fatigued spirit struggles to fight and rise.
I watch darkness ascend in springtime,
when her mind portrays a veil in the misery of mist.
I feel like a helpless flame burning in ivory wax.
Untreated wounds with time festering
into an ebony existence of self deprecation.

I can see butterfly hunters with their narcissistic nets,
chasing my imperfectly perfect empress of empathy.
Her heart hungers for a plethora of petals,
to hover from a ruby rose to lotuses of liberty,
but predatory birds like harlots and hussies,
have lured her into a withering winter colony of thorns.

Sorrow stitched her eyes closed with merlot thread,
as her sanity sits upon the edge of heaven and hell.
The Devil wears a hat with an emblem of her sins.
The bewitching conspiracy of his crimson eyes,
tempting to massacre the magnificence
of her invisible crystal wings of bronze and gold.

In a martyrdom of self-sacrifice,
love reminds her that kindness glows softly like fireflies,
as she tries to find light in a tunnel of lost thoughts.
The universe echoes her cosmic whispers of life,
as psychedelic ink shimmers like starlight in her veins,
pouring compassion into a selfish blank canvas of hearts.

Cherry blossoms tint the air pink
and she's looking at the world through their gaze,
but knows like everything,
their fragile beauty is only momentary.
© Silent One  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Voice in my Head

S l e e p feels like a pathological lie ~
deranged dialect
spoken from the tongue of traitors,
and I listen to the heinous haze
of the insomniac breeze
moving to the splitting silver
of Judas’s coins,
a reflection of an estranged estuary
with no island left to revisit...

For I’ve seen it ~
all alone,
tasted the tormented 
tones of tornadoes,
their truth tender,
warmer than the vicious voice in my head,
gaslighting my mind,
betraying my faith
clouding my soul’s compass
to believe in the
phantom fallacies painted
and pigmented
from my own poisoned perspectives,
the forest serpents of fears
sojourning in the skin,
hiding the terror
left in the arteries of abandonment.

But what would the
cynical mirror of existence reveal
when everything I have learned
was written from the crippled ink
of a burdened storm,
carrying chaos amidst calmness,
unable to grasp grey,
as hope feels like the
devil in a dress,
drenched in deception.

And I hurt 
like an infant left unloved,
oblivious to the eagle anthems,
threatened by aerial oaths,
as I am the architect of darkness,
not a victim,
but the turmoil to the 
Sun and the Moon,
living in the macabre
valleys thriving in shame,
as my inner child still dreams
in cursed colors of crestfallen angels.

The toxic tune in my head,
the venom within my veins,
the cataclysmic carnelian
beneath my feet ~ 
O beloved bloom unblemished,
remove yourself
from this collapsing castle
of cruelty numbed,
where dahlias grow from doom
and skeletons wear my name.

I am trauma
a walking juxtaposition 
suffocating your silence,
aching for assurance,
ricocheting like rust 
of infernal flames ~
so wipe the traces hanging
on the smoke-kissed 
screens of stillness,
burn the addictive 
madness of my name...
Let these ashes be,
as nocturnal stars 
watch me turn into
a sonnet, unrhymed 
              and 
                       u n f
                              i n 
                                 i s 
                                    h e d …

Premium Member Internal Paralysis

The night of notorious orchids
speaks in faltering bioluminescence,
hurling ricochets of rhapsody
through conch-shell chaos,
like gothic mantras
rising from wounded waves,
carrying salt-soaked roses
into the face of interstellar inferno ~
an unsettling 
illustration of internal paralysis…

I am scarlet-scarred frost,
crestfallen in silent disarray,
like an avalanche ~ already torn,
consumed in chronic emptiness,
collapsing into
compulsive numbness,
unable to voice the truth,
shattered by the last dying breeze
that smothered my will
to believe ~ to rise ~ to dream…

But, am I to be crowned with blame,
laced in regret and shame,
while the mirror mirrors
a pulse that pains in self-isolation,
a soft-spoken sabotage,
fearing every familiar flicker
of fragranced starlight,
questioning the silk
and silver on moon-rivers,
for even the beauty of love feels
like temporary treachery,
betraying bouquets of constellations…

And I communed with soul’s serpents ~
they know the hollowness
of this splitting madness…
Must I perish
in a catacomb conscience,
where the mind gaslights grief,
manipulating melancholy
like a widow’s deathless elegy,
as if I were no poet ~
with a mourning riddle,
bleeding ballads
through blistered thistles ~
the anatomy of a heart
abandoned and forgotten 
in its own crypt of catharsis…


Muted Blue

I'll hold this place for her loving faintly-
fragile, and tepid outer layer veils so thinly
a gorgeous core shining bright and quietly
  Her eyes say more
    than lips betraying her thoughts
 as they swirl to intriguing depth.
 I dive, plunge deeply-secretly
   wading in thought's waters
     loving the expanded borders
        hidden beyond your rippled surface.
As birds singing, primp their rehearsed tune,
your diamond shines reluctant
from realities igneous tomb

I wan't to know the words she's trapped in blue
fluttering chests locked tightly when nervous
posture tells of something more.
Hushed often before, and muted now conditioned
to repress your heart...it's hard to breathe
as you selfconsciously hold your breath

Move those lips to mine
  and whisper each trapped caption
    your mind froze but never lost,
open the soul to feeling once more
like blood reddening air exposure
freeing the absence of feeling
...replaced with this tuned in euphoria
     blaring melodies warm and familiar to our ears



 
  *Inspired by Nathan's "Diamond in the Rough" contest

Premium Member Spirit of Swan Lake


     " In titanium haze of love,
             truth is but a mere lie, 
            never unlocking gold vaults
                    of feelings, for, 
             honesty weeps somewhere
                        in perfumed odes of
                  inkless pages, 
                              hidden in our forlorn fate..."
 
If twilight roses were 
reincarnated angels, 
they would carve 
a zillion destinies 
with feathered letters, 
flickering beneath
butterfly glitters, 
adhering glossy 
wings of rosemary, 
like a balm to 
invisible scars
and encasing 
my soul in a 
hundred hues 
of blood. 

But, I never knew, 
the secrets of 
nebulous-cloaked 
vengeance which 
infused in 
nightingale's 
forevermore fortunes, 
echoing eerie whispers 
in elora moors of 
scarlet jasmines, 
at the jinx of 
midnight's omen;
for thou emerged 
as a lover in 
ninety-nine novels, 
but a guised 
killer in the 
farewell fantasy. 

As I float by, 
in the swan lake, 
losing myself to thee, 
I wish upon 
defrosting your eyes, 
that got submerged 
beneath icebergs 
of betraying harbinger
and bleed my soul 
in frosted heart's
snow-sealed 
milky ways, 
as these flaked 
clayey leaf 
pamphlets of
sakura scents 
aren't enough
to erase thy 
fingerprints from this 
poisoned chalice, 
that sung sinful 
serenades in 
deadly paradise
of Eurydice
and sliced my spirit 
to sooty shreds, 
in this diamond dungeon 
behind sage valleys. 

Laced in 
ash grey lies, 
I'm a corpse 
enveloped in 
crimson croons
of confetti, 
whilst lips 
soak acrylic 
dewdrops of 
melting roses, 
that once
blanketed our 
eden in the 
arms of heaven, 
with starlit petals. 

So, as Nymph, 
in the orisons, 
with hemlock 
fused heart, 
be all my sins 
remembered. 
For, love is a 
smoke raised 
with the fume 
of sighs, demising 
to sacrificed 
meadows, where, 
this kismet tale 
departs in the 
very ecstacy 
of cradling mist, 
and thus, 
with disoriented 
twilight's kiss, I die.

Premium Member Animating Innate Vibrance

Line of inquiry:
"betwixt the pulse of our heartbeat
simply present, head-heart linking
dwelling in time stretched blissful peace
awareness became unblinking" Unseeking Seeker


He was a charming chameleon, saying all the right things
in that beguiling masculine timbre of his sultry voice. 
Allure in his hazel eyes promised things my heart hadn't felt,
but it ignored my head's warning until I had no choice.

A niggling of worry continued to swirl through my mind
that something was wrong. Something I couldn't quite define.
He had shortcomings but to all of them my heart was blind.
I desperately tried but reasoning couldn't keep my heart in line.

Much is written about the rebellion of a treacherous heart,
and how it rhythmically pulses with the need for passion's fire.
It's been the cause of many sleepless nights when I'm fraught
knowing I cannot extinguish my heart of its burning desire.

It has always wanted what it wanted and wouldn't be denied.
It's always managed to overrule what my mind was thinking...
until it'd been crushed and broken, and only then did it confide
that it should've paid more heed to my head and heart linking.

Hearts can be guilty of transgressions. Mine was by betraying me.
Then it had to pay the steepest price that infatuation could ask.
From the grasp of lustfulness, my heart was able to break free.
Balancing the volition between mind and heart is not an easy task.
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Frozen In Time

~~

Hand in hand they meander through  the deserted lane, 
freshly fallen snow crumpling under foot 
Littering the sky, Bright stars,  glittering like coins on a belly dancers belt,
slowly surrender to the coming dawn


Inch by measured inch the glory of Ra overpowers the starlight. 
In a pale blue sky, a pale golden disc, the colour of ripe oats at harvest time, 
looking close enough, and cool enough, to reach out and touch. 
Brilliant rays, arrows of liquid gold, capture the pristine landscape, 
splintering like a million shards of shattered glass. 
No sound, only silence, profound, in the clear crystal air.

In the distance, a cock crows.

Long morning shadows cast by tall pines, 
revealing a lone stoat, resplendent in his ermine coat. 
Emerging from shade, merging with sunlight, 
loping across the virgin snow with bounding grace.
White on white, 
only the black tip of his tail and tiny footprints betraying his presence.

In the distance, a dog barks,
	 
A small cottage, a stone chimney, a whisper of smoke announcing a new day,
A hardy little robin pecking with determination to uncover water under ice. 
A door slams, the robin takes flight. 
Snow slides from the roof to gather in piles like miniature Himalayas. 
Icicles drop pearls as the thaw sets in. The world is awakening.

In the distance, a train whistles.
Still holding hands they walk on.

~~

Premium Member Kissing For the Killing of Can'T -

Destinies departing from one another
like memories falling asleep as new experience births the extremes of Eternity,
striding past ourselves with fingers extended wildly
trying terribly to grab hold of knuckles with certainty buckling
as disbelief transforms into the unloving knowledge of impossibility,

in a recess of rules we defy the momentum of the Game's gravity
praying not with confusion in our eyes but for pardon of our happy prank,
we have laughter within the drums of our souls,

placing my thumb onto the corner of her mouth
getting closer to her voice,
kissing my Spartan girl
as though she were a secret sunset balancing just for me,
not knowing if I'll ever have another,
kissing just for the sake of kissing her,
kissing for the hatred of heartache, for the heroics of Hope,
kissing while betraying Time's insults of hurriedness -

J.A.B.

Weathering the Storm

A storm is brewing, dark clouds advancing in
While tears roll down an embattled face
Betraying the tortured scars within
Each tear falls entwined in rains embrace.

He knows the hardships aren’t over
Soon colour will drown out scorched dust
Time must elapse before forage and clover
Further rain to beat this drought is a must.

Unloading his animals when he ran out of feed
There’s a cost to sell, when no one can buy
When the drought breaks, once more stock he will need
Irony demands growth will push prices up high.

Financial pressure has taken its toll
Each day of sun filled completely with gloom
No income, while a mortgage eats at his soul
Years of recovery on the horizon do loom.

Exploding emotions as rain touches the dirt
A passerby might see something awry
A storm slowly starting, and a man that seems hurt
Kneeling bent on the ground, he's broken in cries.

18th April 2015

A Storm Is Brewing Contest
Sponsor - Kelly Deschler
© Mark Woods  Create an image from this poem.

Giving Thanks

Thanks for the mood this world put me in.
 Thanks for the wars, the corruption, and sin.
 Thanks for collapsing the market with greed.
 Thanks for the stress... for the ulcers that bleed.

Thanks for pretending everything is just fine.
 Thanks for the forclosures, and the miserable times.
 Thanks for relaxing, while riding our backs.
 Thanks for the gas prices, and charging us tax.

Thanks for the lies, and the cries of false hope.
 Thanks for the junkies, and supplying their dope.
 Thanks for the children who have nothing to eat.
 Thanks for the subjects, who bow at your feet.

Thanks for the credit that you took away.
 Thanks for the resession, now I can't pay.
 Thanks for all the oil spills, and the greenhouse effect.
 Thanks for dropping the dime on the National debt.

Thanks for the tension, and all of the drama. 
 Thanks for your actions that spawned the bad karma.
 Thanks for betraying the trust that was built. 
 Thanks for laying upon us the unneeded guilt.

Thanks for sturring up trouble with one swift kick.
 Thanks for drawing the curtain before your big trick.
 Thanks for leaving us all with egg on our face.
 Thanks for disturbing the vibe, and invading our space.
 ~Billy Hitz~
© Billy Hitz  Create an image from this poem.

The Meeting

The glamour of her skin faded
 like late-afternoon sunbeams 
that settled  on rose petals 'dust

But , not the light in her wide chatoyant eyes
That light was still  glowing bright
Like a  freshly washed white frock of an ingenue child
A child who knew, each flutter of a butterfly churning deep inside
was to be preserved  for this ineffable  day. 
Today , the day She was to greet 'the one '
Down the valley , by the orchid tree
where minutes ticked seconds and time.

For so long , She waited for this moment
to  turn and find him there , to look him in those eyes
 Eyes circled with wrinkles of loss and laughter
of many deaths and life.


His demure maiden . The cynosure  who filled his thoughts
without even knowing  how or why ,  For weeks, months, and  years
Was She there by his side ,or was this another betraying vision 
of the lissome lady's smile ?

It was her voice . It was the mellifluous  sound of her song
lulling him into  sleep.This was not Endymion's dream
Nor an unheard wish  on spumes of falling stars.
This was the warmth of his breath upon her neck's nape
It was their once so vacant hearts , beating one to one.

It was their holding of hands, their first promised dance.
A panacea to a long term desease of loss , and loss again.

A new chapter  -to be continued. 
A sempiternal journey  of what little time remains. 
Trembling hands ,Scribbling verses on hopskotch 
Alll ending with  the same repeated names
 and unforgettable joyous refrains. 



Thanks for the ten words challenge S.One
1) Glamour , 2) Chatoyant,  3) Igenue , 4) ineffable , 5) demure
6) Sempiternal , 7) panacea, 8) mellifluous,  9 )lissome , 10) cynosure


Who wants to know the meaning of all these ten words
pls read S. One 's ten word challenge poem.


Fiction Poem

All We Can Abolish

Horrid hellion hunger that rips apart the soul
Sadly starving siblings where death takes its toll
Crippled children crying a mother lives in hell
While wicked ways of man making money for their sell

Vindictive violent victories, of man vs. man
Kabbalistic killing kids a death wish with a plan
Wrathful widespread Wars with blood over spilling
Betraying battling brothers kiss their cross before the killing

Repeated rancorous raping for only a woman knows
Destructive demeanour dancing the desecration of a rose
Sabotaging silent stealing virginity within the night
Demonic deception dwelling a battle we must fight

Let us pray now for all of this we can abolish
Breathe in strength and give the world its needed polish.


March.21.2016   THE ALPHABET CONTEST - LETTER A- Abolish -By Alfred Vassallo

The Boatmans Song 2

The Boatman’s Song        2/ Many

Urvashi’s heart was aching to hear and to see the elegance  
Of the boatman, while he sing those melodies on earth 
A great longing started sprouting in her bosom  
To visit the earth and to listen those heart touching songs 
Which like a powerful magnet were pulling her towards earth
Where flows the Ganges and lives her unseen love 

To control her ever increasing desire of hearing those songs 
And to see that unique boatman, who lives on earth 
Urveshi tried to engage her more and more 
In the courtly dances and engagements for Indra
But the more she wanted to escape, more she became enchanted
By the echoes of boatman’s songs 
Which were tearing her heart and 
Making her mind almost intoxicated,  
By the melodies of those heavenly songs

The pleasures and comforts of heaven began to pinch her 
Like the piercing thorns 
Even the dance and music, which were her pride and passion
Became dull and charm less in the wake of those songs
For which she was hailed 
As the best among all the Apsaras in the entire universe  

Heaven seems to bring no joy and rejoicing for her any more
Her dancing steps, which were the symbols of perfection and beauty
Even started betraying her 
As her own heart was no longer in her possession any more
And she found that her mind and heart
Were swept away by that unseen boatman
Sailing his boat somewhere on earth

Apsara Urveshi after finishing her dance that day 
Told the God of heaven, Indra
That she perhaps can no longer perform any dance
Owing to agonies of her heart and restlessness of her mind
And her legs were not in tune with her mind to perform
A flawless dance and song by which she had captured the 
Hearts of all Gods and Goddess, what to say of humans on earth

She thought and thought and found that she can only normalize
If she can hear the songs of the boatman 
Singing in full throated ease on earth 
The echo’s of which were hovering in her mind like clouds
And twisting her heart to see that singer sublime


Ravindra 

Kanpur India 5th January 2010 
* Apsara   =   A Nymph dancer of heaven in the court of Indra as per Hindu Mythology 
* Indra      =   The Lord of Heaven as per Hindu mythology
* Urveshi  =   One of the beloved Apsaras of Indra 
* Saraswati = Goddess of knowledge, music & arts
* Jungle      =  Forest

Premium Member Katsushika Hokusai, The Great Wave off Kanagawa, circa 1832

your love ~ my muse
your voice ~ my prose
            s l i
                p
                     s    and sails in the sky ~
stroking the silhouette
             of
snow-kissed mountains,
mirroring memories
of moon-flames
seized like picturesque
       Polaroids of a spirit
that stands still &
                       firm 
held by the archived songs
of seaweed sentiments
where
mists of thoughts
                tiptoe
            t r a i l i n g
the skin and scales
of serpentine w a v e s
                        c l a w i n g
through the throat of nothingness
pressed in the
frozen
     salt of silence ~ 
mujo’s murmur
bathed in lucid blues,
like air of angst,
clouds of       t e
                      a
                    r      s

if only the wind could grasp
the water-weed wilderness
ebbing and flowing
         within this mind ~ 
for the heart 
      is a chaotic odyssey
ferrying footprints
                     in distress 
allowing the currents
          to be the sailor
beckoning and betraying
the seekers
in search of briny bliss
w e a v i n g  wishes
reweaving desires ~ 
            never settling ~
wicked, yet carved
with starry reveries
pushing and pulling
valves of the ocean
held in the cradle of
               endless hope...

but beneath the c r
                              a
                          s h
                                i n g crystals
&
cacophonous crests,
floats fragility ~
anchored in healing,
     drifting in hurt ~
an ephemeral effervescence
      an inescapable embrace
      breathing and b r e a t h l e s s 
unmoved by the
tempests of time…
as the sky recalls 
               the taste of tides
and the tide feels
     the pulse of the sky ~ 
 resilient &
           relentless
amidst the restless rhymes
           phantom phrases 
and the clamorous
   cadence of delicate life…

Deep Purple Sensation

You startled me, like a pin prick to my heart-
forever leaving me breathless for your starvation. 
I craved your tender touch right from the start
and thirsted for your deep purple longing sensation. 
          I fear not the kismet we carry, but you betraying,
          I dread not what we share, but you not staying. 
For you are the reason for my God-given creation-
          and I’m infatuated with the love you’re portraying.



Purple2 Cash Prize Poetry Contest
Kevin Shaw
January 25, 2019

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