Best Cacophonous Poems
When we search for answers from egotistic minds,
life is full of meaningless questions that lead us nowhere.
You sabotaged the sandman who brought me my dreams,
corrupting and confusing the clarity of my conscience.
In a world of betrayal, I thought you were my
saviour,
but your promises were sworn from a throne of lies -
where you perch as the king of false pretences.
Tired from being a victim of your insecurities,
I am not your mistake nor your abandoned
trauma.
Fate led my empathic sanity into your labyrinth of splintered hollowness,
confining me within a soulless sphere of unfair
madness,
yet, I still remember how you pledged to show me the moon -
falsehoods which led to an eternal eclipse for my eyes.
You stole the silver sewn with perfectly metered syllables,
calming the storm I carry in cacophonous silence,
but now, all I see is a megalomaniac monster, draped in rose tones of synthetic rhodolite, pretending to be an ivory dove in a horizon of vicious vultures,
hiding behind a decaying province of black petunias.
Your synthetic smile veils your cruel character, afraid that the vermilion you paint across your
sunsets,
will reveal the poison you fed my paralyzed soul.
My ink will always portray your true parasite persona,
about your attempts to assassinate my authentic aroma,
as now i blossom in meadows without your
toxic touch.
I was a planetary climatologist, who studied climate variability and change,
Like sweet variability of stunning, green tulips, in lavish garden rearranged.
Studying the said effects on the biosphere, absorbed so many daily hours,
Like industrious days of fragrant, amber honey, after tumbling into flowers.
My labors impacted energy usage, along with food production and health,
And the survival of endangered species, like golden rays of natural wealth.
Faddish flowers fascinated friends, who flattered them, at my broad fence,
Under fleecy, lemony clouds, fast moving, and orange sun, grown intense.
Famished, feasible family feasted, in lavish flowering fragrance of Fridays,
When fugitive, frosty stars flickered, winking at green garden bonsai trees.
I lived in the house of emerald echoes, in vivid memory of nature's sound,
From birdsong to crickets to evening wind, and brook of babbling renown.
Sachets swept away a sudden sadness, as robins sought another summer,
On my street of starry-eyed forget me nots, like a tune with no drummer.
Nobody knew latest neighborhood news, like my nearest friends next door,
Like chameleon sun, crisscrossing teal sky, wholly ignorant of 'nevermore.'
Pink birds were living high, and red butterflies viewed a world, ultraviolet;
And yellow bees went about their sweet labors, since queen bee desired it.
Strawberry clouds sailed around the world, for clouds ever love adventure,
As dogwoods barked in summer's dog days, during a gold noon surrender.
As I was walking home one day, the sun vanished as skies turned ominous.
There was a lightning flash just before the thunder, loud and cacophonous!
Suddenly, I saw a male face in the clouds, that was bellowing and enraged,
Like blizzard winds through naked trees, howling at a lush year that's aged.
Taken aback, like butterflies in gusts, I had come face to face with thunder-
The mighty, furious face of the storm, and I was filled with sudden wonder!
Then came the silver rains, sideways slanting, at the dead end of drought;
And I raced home like all uneasy nature, in the successive hours of doubt.
Scintillating sun had returned next day, after banishing the tangerine mist,
As benevolent nature was no more angry, its tale ending in an orange twist!
tonight …I’ll romance scented silence
as dusk kisses the heart of harlequin horizon~
dripping memories ~ in cacophonous clemency…
but to feel the finesse flames of love,
illuminating the trembling tip of a sizzling skyline,
I’ll draw a smoky stairway to the stars;
an ambience of garnet granules… shifting, in crooning colors…
for between the rising sighs of the sun
and the setting eyes of the moon ~ farewells float;
like ineffable verses frozen in timeless rhythm..
I ponder, is the sky a gloaming mirror of eternal footprints,
unveiling hallelujahs of heartbeats in heaven?
as I still hear your song, paused on repeat, in our favorite chorus…
~ perhaps I am a word dreamer ~
saturated in weeping winds;
trembling from poetic fever
jolted by twilight tremors
bursting forth acrylic dews
in pigments of pensive blue…
THE JESTER
Jester jingles
with madcap medusa-bells,
dressed in melodic-motley uniform.
A sea of foamy frills
frame the famed renaissance storyteller,
a creature feature
of phantasm for frightened children.
His ghost-white face
with comedic war paint.
Highly educated,
acts the fool,
preaching to the pompadour.
Folly finds the frolicking ear
of the entertained king,
even at the news of sinking ships.
The king’s delighted,
as balls lollygag around his throne room,
and pins dance before his eyes.
Mesmerized, hypnotized,
spirals spry and smiling.
Claps his cacophonous hands.
The puppet court amplifies the sound.
The buffoon’s very wise,
buried behind his makeup.
His strings
control the crown.
Royally screws the court
with tasteless remarks
and they bow over in laughter.
In the backroom formulates his investment plan.
Jester jingles,
of drama and lies,
of liberties and surprise.
8/3/2017
Kai Neumann’s Jester Contest
1st Place
Quietude
by Odin Roark
Quietude
Like a tree’s dark shadow
Knows only the absorption of all colors
Rendering the din of senses
A cacophonous silence
How gentle the process
Once resistance abates
The mind’s own deprivation tank
Engendering trust void of fear
Yet
So hesitant are many
To embrace the white light
To wait out nature’s tintinnabulation
The white noise becoming aphonic
To lay oneself down
Afloat atop the water
The grass
The ethereal reality of consciousness
Where leaves of brown
Beneath the awaiting orange of
Red and yellow repeat nature’s cycle
Where jasmine lures the mulch of life
Into purity’s gateway
Patiently biding time’s eternal truth
Preparing one with zero
The hush of peace
The quiet of love
The mutation of hate
Conjoin in harmony’s sublime reward
The circle of quietude
I’m feral like a fox
misplaced in the
maroon mists
of wilderness,
only found in
woeful woodland.
My skin is blanketed
in crimson balmy
hyacinth feathers
from a
forsaken rainforest.
Misguided on
delusional paths,
where spring-tides
mirror liquified colors
of warm diamond tears
I’ve suppressed
behind ice blue sighs.
And I’ve seen
splintered petals
beneath thick-leaved
jewel orchids,
that surrendered
to greying leaves
on tainted twigs
and broken branches.
I’ve walked through
fields of thorns
where the
musky scent
of roses remained
a poison to
my aching soul.
So, why does it
feel like I’m chained
from vines of changes,
that suffocate
the sun within me,
crucifying the fragility
of premature
begonia beginnings?
Am I to follow
the darkness,
to cast away the evil,
constantly pushing me
into a cave of
cacophonous silence?
As I see beyond
the gossamer veil,
hiding sharpened talons
of treacherous eagles-
flying amongst
vicious vampires;
emerald foes
masked as friends,
feeding my conscience
with cruel concoctions,
oblivious to the truth,
that I am a bark believer
of marigold miracles.
So let the
steel black breeze
and the
faceless ghosts
of fleeting time,
witness how I
rise against
wicked wolves
lurking behind
stars within
a chiffon laced
canopy of nightfalls.
For, I am more
than the empty labels
you’ve placed,
like the shame,
I’ve buried beneath
lyrical lies drizzling
from vanilla skies.
I want to be fully unwrapped
within the arms of your heart ~
the effervescent efflorescence
effortlessly cultivating our truth,
with your heat as my clothing,
your throb as my psalm,
your love as soft thunder,
soothing in silence
my mind’s mayhem, malevolence…
But to be your chosen heirloom,
must I turn fears
into flowers of resilience,
mask insecurities with interstellar lies,
pretend to be prepared
for the poisoned persistence,
as if ink trembles not at the
thought of losing the light
that found me ~
weeping on the edge of nothingness?
O lion’s mane huntsman,
my warrior scavenging
through storms and starlight,
come sail with me
to the distant dunes
of deepened devotion.
Succumb to this surreal seclusion,
cloaked in captivating colors
of branching attachment,
where you and I will
face the nefarious unnamed
like Persephone,
strolling between thistles
and abyssal dawn,
oblivious to what blooms above,
the labyrinth of love-starvation,
finding clarity through static panic,
returning to your dream,
where cacophonous control
calms the inner conscience
clawed to the catastrophic
currents of craving.
I am the midnight wanderer
intoxicated on pomegranate’s
forbidden ecstasy,
euphoric amidst the orchid
haze of Hades.
For what is happiness
in the absence
of fulfillment or contentment?
I have long learned
the adjectives to accentuate
peace through pain,
serenading serenity
beneath skies adorned
with doomed diamonds.
So let me stay alive in
the lines of allure,
find lucidity through distortion ~
hope through helplessness,
rise again to a spring
that pulses
for piercingly perfumed passion ...
The Middle Time is now upon me,
The tune to which I dance grows somewhat thin;
A ghost remembrance of that cacophonous din
To which my steps were measured in my youth.
I know there lies now less before
Than all those days that lay within
The sepulcher of careless memory passed,
I apprehend the sometime bitter truth
That evil days approach my door
When much of what I've come to love will bid its leave
As I be forced to gaze aghast
At sights my eyes would fain not see,
When I to faithful hope must cleave.
Yet, what better time than this, the high point of the feast?
That Jester, Youth, has left the table
Leaving us the better able
To speak of things which more befit the greyed brow,
Matters weighty and sublime
Which better suit our natures now, though perhaps in tone more sable
Than such issues as delight the Fool,
Content the simpleminded sow -
Let us worthily pass the time
To Banquet's End, in company merry and refined,
Reviewing all we gained in Life's long school -
Establish what we value most and least,
Then say we fed our souls while yet we dined.
O grieve not that thy step be not so quick nor light
As t'was it's wont to be in bygone days,
Nor pine for carefree, childish ways -
They had their time, and sweet they were,
But now thou hast a surer, measured step
Nobler thoughts - the ones which stay,
Youth for all its joyful folly
Is not a state forever to prefer
To mind and manner better kept
From fancies and seductions strange;
Who but a Fool would be forever jolly
To deny his Midlife's further sight,
It's deeper view, it's wider range?
in the open air
cacophonous solitude ~
quiet containment
the pert butterflies
speckled and multicoloured ~
flittering about
2/16/2023
Spring Flower, Bird or Butterfly Haiku x 2
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
There’s a grinding in everyone’s mouth.
Something cacophonous and discordant
That resonates perfection.
It sounds like continents in your throat
Villages of little fluorescent bulbs,
Branding stories on your tongue
And crunching into you
Until you become the philosopher of the world.
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…
If rain poured
in susurrating sounds
of unshed tears,
will ungrateful dialects
change their insincere
expressions of speech,
or will this unheard
voice forever be
lost as echoes within
glass walls,
where lilac-feathered
letters of farewell
written in red diamonds,
illustrate illusive
narratives of an onyx heart
haunted by
holographic
harmonies,
in glitters of retro line art~
to graphically craft
cacophonous chronicles of
unexpressed trauma,
engrossed in cursive candor,
while this quivering quill remains
dipped in purple
pansies and primrose poetry,
glorifying indigo intuitions
that bleed in
blue-black and burgundy
But, I still keep
surfing in sizzling silence
towards saffron-streaked
sunsets resembling
the wisteria warmth
of your embellished embrace,
awakening from lucid
dreams of sparkling
silhouettes of us,
when I was uncontrollably
lost in your
pillow-shaped eyes,
counting silver stars hanging
on long lashes with lilac dust,
forgetting the times
I was caught in the
riveting rhythm of
lemonade lies.
For in your
amorous arms,
every qualitative question
within incomplete
puzzles of life and loss,
unravels appealing answers
with carnation compassion,
upon corners of
crumpled pages,
where initials of
your flowery
name is a
timeless token,
of love that still exists~
in this woeful world
of hate from heinous hyenas.
But these starry stones
of turquoise trust
shall be the
clandestine clemency
that holds this
unwritten tale of survival.
For, I am unapologetically poetic~
rewriting fuschia future
on pastel colored
paper parachutes,
letting go of twisted
tones cloaked with
jealous January winds at dawn,
as cinnamon gold sequined
skies reflect magic within
misty mirrors,
to begin again
as April crawls back,
knocking on the
laser-lavender portal
adorned with teal-cerulean
wings of our whimsical fairyland…
Tinnitus tinnitus, innocuous by name,
invisible tasteless, sounds pretty lame,
Ears hissing, snakes inside my head,
Growing louder, causing turmoil in bed,
Room’s spinning, feel like getting sick,
Banging kicks off, rhythmically quick.
Tinnitus tinnitus, pneumatic drillers,
incessant maniacal machine gun killers,
Thumping smashing, trash metal band,
Like rock music, but this I cannot stand,
Eyes are bloodshot, severe lack of sleep,
cacophonous noise, then marching feet.
Tinnitus tinnitus, chainsaws a cutting,
No trees or lumberjacks, I see nothing,
Put on the radio, try drown out noise,
overwhelmed, lose rationale and poise,
Church bells peeling, ringing perhaps,
overloaded, mind spirals into collapse.
Tinnitus tinnitus, curse this living hell,
hammering my face, eyes begin to swell,
Delirious sweating, sheets soaking wet,
overcome in confusion, desperate upset,
Pray to god make the torment go away
release me from this Kafkaesque array.
Tinnitus tinnitus, eardrums explode,
Brain is shattered, as decibels grow,
Can’t take anymore, at my wits end,
On slugs of whiskey, sanity depends,
One after the other, knock them back,
Throbbing numbing starting to relax.
Tinnitus tinnitus, drink myself unconscious,
Wake up next day, agonizingly nauseous,
My ear is on the pillow, bottle’s in pieces,
covered with blood, trembling increases,
Look in the mirror, No no this cannot be,
Vincent Van Gough’s, staring back at me.
By
David Kavanagh
there are times
when my heart
remains silent
when its pulse is
steady and slow
there are times
when i am
right with the world
fitting in like a piece
to an irregular puzzle
there are times
when the sounds
of the life that surrounds me
blend in infinite splendor
with the music that plays
within.
and then,
there are times
when my heart explodes
and its rapid beating
becomes too much
for the confines of my chest
there are times
when i seem to be
a square block
struggling to escape
this round hole
of an existance
there are times
when the cacophonous symphony
invading my mind
overlaps with what
i hear outside
and the resulting noise
is disarmingly similar
to my inner chaos.
and then,
there are times
when i wonder
when this
nauseating see-saw
will stop its
strange rhythm
when the boundaries
that dictate
the shape of my life
will stop their
shape-shifting
when i can be left
in peace.
and then,
each time
this wondering arrives
it is followed by a certainty
that the answer is
never.
Abandoned sunsets slip past fingertips
As intrepid sagas chart darkness grown
In cloud covered stars guiding homeward ships
Destined for cacophonous fates unknown
Beyond dawn's memories of beauties flown
And captured under weighted thunder's swing
Insomnia's pen collects colored string
Lacing blue moons where sorrel skies unfold
Crooked circles tracing her crippled king
Only poets can know the lines untold
8/11/20
For 'Pick a Tile, Volume 21 - Dizain' contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
theme: Untold