Best Cataclysms Poems


Premium Member Humanity


Humanity 

The pagan pilgrimage, sun-worshippers frequently make
Latter-day phenomenon, take off on a Bronze Age break
Constellations change position, solstices realign
Tropic of Capricorn peaks, Cancer starts its slow decline

Astrologers reassure us, the end is not bespoke
Astronomers can’t sleep, has a supernova awoke?
Healthy cells deconstruct inexorably from their core
Runaway chain reactions, laying waste forever more

Be that as it must, cosmic cataclysms generate thrust
Comets are slightly nudged, on a collision course with us?
Ancients believed them omens, wraiths of impending slaughter
Those billion ton tailed curveballs, catalysed Earth with water

Modern man searches for answers, drowning in misnomers
Melding PhD honours, with chatbot E-diplomas
Teleporting entangled particles, throws back a hack
Time travelling marvel, rewinds the real Bronze Age back?

Absurdness seems lame, yet concomitantly germane
Hawking conserved energy, by merely using his brain
Newton had a bachelors, kept him celibate stable
He’d balls of steel for sure, alas no bearings on that cradle?

Information cannot be destroyed, only zeitgeists can
Synthesised is truth, in the malleable hands of man
Life’s more delicate, gravitas hidden behind a smile
Like tales that flightless birds, buried heads in denial

Ostriches evolved kick-ass legs, and win the biped race
They dig shallow pits in sand, not complex black holes in space
One squawked this revelation before zooming off to die:
“Humankind’s the sole species, with good reason to ask why”?
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Through Eyes of Redwoods

"to hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to nature" William Shakespeare, Hamlet, 1601

towering redwoods 
forest dwellers born before Christ’s time on Earth
spreading arms to lofty heights
dwellings provided in hollow, cave-like trunks

wrap your spirit in the redwood cocoon
feel the cool, dark air
refreshing body and spirit
refuge from summer’s heat

speak to me, redwood tree,
tell me of times past
when Native Americans cherished the land
and Jesus preached in Galilee

out of body, one with the redwood
journeying through history
living in a time tunnel
where past meets present

trees that know what man has forgotten
ancient tribes with sacred values
surviving earth-changing cataclysms
surrounding us with secrets to share

if we dare
dwell within
this broad, mystical expanse
redwoods’ memories



by Carolyn Devonshire
for Constance’s “The Tree” Contest
April 21, 2011

Forbidden

These events,
Gentle cataclysms,
Sweet, soft earthquakes,
Spasm on wet sand 
And smoky panes
With tremors;
Seismic finger paintings
In dust and condensation,
Illicit pictures,
Despairing wordplay.

When you are gone
I will mourn
As if death
Has claimed you,
Packed you in a box
In the ground;
The earth around
My heart
Weighs dense and heavy,
Compacting forbidden love
In worms and clay.

I will hide everything,
Concealing truth
Under layers of 
The mundane,
Smiling, nodding to dialogues
Unheard and unprocessed;
Through soil strata
Will beat and bleed silence
Of a forbidden love
Living forever,
Denied breath.
© Tony Bush  Create an image from this poem.


Ufo Dreams

Unforgotten dreams flow deep from within.
Forsaken beliefs drown in sorrow from sin.
Our hearts are hardened without faith and belief.
We will lose more freedoms, before any relief.
Traffic stops but continues to hide the truth, we seek.
Strong values build up into what is called weak.
Future divisions hold the key to what we will find.
Cataclysms’ true dealings that do not fade, only blind,
As stories unfold with un-known facts, it feeds.
These things are not what anyone ever needs.
We forget our past, the world is flat, it does end.
There is nothing to the west, for to seek or fend.
Though it was proven that this world is not flat,
Though it was proven westerly sails, proved that.
We hear now, there is nothing in space that will live.
Though soon we shall hear, what the frontier will give.
What it has given to us is technology that moves fast.
Beyond this new boundary, belief needs to truly last.
Form: Rhyme

The World In Our Hands

The world in our hands would impair devils
An unthinking thought more blissful
Than a wish fulfilling shooting star

Our missions would be charted out
To go on our victory dance one step at a time
For peacefully unifying the global eye

The lines in the hand of child would be uncorroded 
With the scavenging paedophiles detonated 
And their gardens be filled with natural joys and play

Food for the starving would be an essentia
Hunger and water a distant call before going to bed 
Appetising the poor rather than greasing over fed palettes

We would delve deep into the human vein
Gushing with a universal religion of tolerance
That binds all colours rather than undermining faiths

Gigantic deeds would keep gory bloodsheds at bay
And young valiants would keep hearts of their fair
In strongholds for inopportune cataclysms

Global warming would be of a season gone by
Aerial reforestations and seed bombs for divergent climes
Would be the neatest stuff rather than bloody nukes

A day will come when life begins once again
When dragons burn out the archetype evils and
Dying values will sprout worldwide deliverance once again



April 9, 2016
Dan Kearley

Galactic Sanctuary

Galactic, cataclysmic echoes known
reflected off diamond pillars, thrown
into an abyss a sanctuary ancient:
no shout but whisper sentient,
lost in static, thunderous silence
to be forgotten for its loyalty's penance.

Whispers placed through time,
perhaps stars even, sublime,
words of no meaning nor purpose;
only of inquiry, beliefs thoughtless.
Questions not for knowledge's burden,
but for galactic mumbles internally spoken.

Sanctuary lost beyond star's belief
for which cataclysms feel no grief,
do not answer echoes in my mind.
Let loyalty be punished by uncertainty kind
and whispers dwindle in thunderous static:
nothings asked to silence galactic.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member The Ghoul Aside My Bed

There are meanderings who itch and creep
    To fill my night with dread.
There are cataclysms where I cringe and cower
    That are better left unsaid
And there's an apparition to slake my very soul
    Standing menacingly aside my bed.

A miasmal shadow whose form and substance
    Seems porous with a brooding discontent.
A vaporous spook from a now empty hoary grave
    Crying out some death-bed held lament.
I tremble at this ghastly wretched haunting unsure
    How to appease this ghoulish malcontent.

Is it an harbinger of some impending doom
    That awaits me in the night?
Or a bleak warning of a tenebrous dark abyss
    In dire need of an earthborn sacrifice?
Or a horrific memory of a forgotten transgression
    I have conveniently put away from sight?

Its eyes lock in a gaze of sinister desperation
    As I search for some meaning to aspire.
But what I see leaves me morose and sullen
    As the reflection broods a hellish brimstone fire.
And I turn away with a feeling of minacious fear
    Not knowing the spirit's saturnine desires.

This haggard phantom stretches its bony claw
    And wails like a banshee twice possessed.
Pointing an accusing finger in my direction
    With some long held grievance to address.
It screams in hideous tones, "Beware! Beware!"
    Which it most fervently expressed.

"Beware! Beware!" It howls in repressed anger
    As I rest my weary eyes.
And through the night it wallows in acute agony...
    Lashing out a mournful cry.
But I eventually grow somewhat accustomed
    And it becomes a type of doomsday lullaby.

The days and weeks are now three long years
    And it continues its nightly shrieking of regret.
But no one said creatures from the spirit-world
    Would be straightforward or direct.
I am at an impasse with this ghostly apparition
    And remain confused and quite perplexed.

I am oblivious to whatever spectral information
    This bit of ectoplasm seems to know.
And the creature appears in no discernible hurry,
    But to be honest... I would miss its nightly show.
So until we come to a far better understanding...
    I have a place to hang my clothes.

                            The End

*Follow my cartoon on Webtoon Bob's your Uncle.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Extinction

Extinguishing is 
The humanity with the
Cataclysms that are
Destroying ecosystem
Planet fauna and flora 

Famine and wars rob
Thousands of precious lives in
A blink of an eye
Exterminating humans
With a great grade of nonsense







Eight Place
Only For Those NA's Contest
1-24-2016
Form: Tanka

Chaos and Order

Chaos and order;

I reside where the strings do not dare wrap around me. I am the thing that shelters comfortably under your carpet, whilst I wink at the fairy living underneath your pillow.

I am the atrocity that delves into its own existence and allows for question. Consume thy enemy, prolapse the expansion of the hereditary downfall of genetics whilst I, watch.

Growing ever more spiteful with every being I see collapse before me. I am the twine in your spine. I am the sheets you do not wash. I am the blood that spills graciously amongst generations-over nothing more than who’s feet get to fall first, on that land.

I am the thing that lies in the shadows. I am the slumber of a million cataclysms that are yet to awaken. I am the tragedy of love and betrayal.

I am the rose that dies with a million thorns wrapped around so, cutting deeper with every question you have about love being unanswered. Every cry of a friend dying on the battlefield.

I am the memory you tremble before in the murder of the night. I am the witch you smite when you cannot accept the malevolent around you. I am the creature you call upon with every legend you make of children who lurk into the woods.

I am the wolf that knows not, of what flock should be spared and which shall be consumed. I am the kindle in the flames, the spindle of a woman’s meddle to find the perfect fabric.

I am the splinter in the timber. That incessant cry out for pain. I am the relinquished magnitude you try to display before your innocent mind. 

I am Chaos, I am Order. I am You.
© Mr Pickles  Create an image from this poem.

Crop Circle Communion Thesis

Thru a series of psychological tests I have been declared a demon
Travellin' thru dimensions fatal weapons leave you bleedin'
Dissecting grey matter doesn't matter in my cathedral
But how can you stand my timberlands in your cerebral
Faces of space probes be scattered thru my mental
Acoustics in my chamber just endanger instrumental
Fundamental rhythms are symbols of paternal power
Get devoured by my infinite skills to disappear
Getting lost in the Holocausts that rage between my ears
Complex like gravity
Tragically and mathematically
I defeat your squadron black magically
Analyze the tangle
As you get my mangled by my triangular rhythms
Systematic rotations of my words cause cataclysms
© Rob Browne  Create an image from this poem.

Exquisite Delight

Some say I have a way with words when truly most words have their way with me

And yes, I adore them best without any tautology

Caressing my psyche causing me to purr

Evoking emotions I never knew could occur

Incredible compilations of syllables

Precisely thrown together creating the unthinkable

To surreptitiously eschew

Grammatical errors innately out of the blue

Assembling phonetic chemistry

With sudden cognizance and poetic symmetry

Incessantly pondering over euphemisms

Reprieving the malediction of diction cataclysms

Putting to rest the Z’s in any onomatopoeia

Arranging every article and particle of speech to accentuate the main idea

With exact execution of the ultimate locution in sight

I peruse, comprehend, and write with exquisite delight
Form: Rhyme

The Murder Diaries I

In the billow of mercurial cataclysms
Sharp as the pyrexia of igneous pebble stones
Upon my hindquarters I was cast
The circles that were established
Branded my skin with cancerous nightmares
Crafting the twisted love song ****ing my throat
Through the lavender haze I tread
Threatened by a medley of conundrums
The tongue legislating such echoes
‘tis the element I so daringly seek
Form: Verse

Life Kills

If life be a mirror, then she is broken
And slit are my wrist by the shards of injustice
That tempted me into suicide of the soul
Guilty is my flesh to bare such sin
I breath pain..
Pushed off the edge of my deepest desire
I fall head first into an unforgiving grave
Where lay..
Counting my regrets as I sink into a timeless ebisk of pity
I'm a prisoner to my own cataclysms
Wasted was my life
And meaningless be death
But to spar me the torture of the present day

I Saw the Light

It traveled at my side
for decades, unassuming
demanding nothing while I,
only mildly discontent, began
again the search for words
to trigger cataclysms of the mind
designed for me to revel in.

What other deep significance
affords an ordinary man
the vision that he needs
to carry out some purpose
for his life?  

But light was there beside me.
And had I realized, inside. 
There was a flash of time--
mine to behold, and I 
not wise enough to summon it.
There are no formulae; I
have no advice for you
and it is not for sale.

But I heard it call, beating and rebounding 
like the pulsing of the sea
across the pages of a history
birthed and then reborn, 
for what is time?
The answer matters not at all.
I saw the light.

It is with some indifference
I watch the ages fade away
like disappearance of the night.
I saw the light!
      ~

She Knows Me

Tall trees and winter’s dismay
Empty hearts and cattle calls
Trusting no one save you and 
Scattered love on forgotten walls

I love the way her lips
Curl when she tells a lie
A secret agreement between lovers
I promise and she cries

I think I do

I know she does

Killer’s eyes greet the morning
Lusty moans and sweaty brows
The thin line threatens to break
It’s far too late now

Rapture unforgiving as the night
Jumbled in a mixture of cement and love
The city is unforgiving
Love is as lust does

I know it now

But dare not speak

This is bigger than me
Cataclysms and tumbling virtue
A heartless fool I would be
If this lie is true
She has me now
What can I do?

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