Best Crumbling Poems

Unable to somehow escape this castle of want

As an apparition endlessly roaming its corridores

From room to room and door to door; up and down its spiral staircase

Looking at the paintings upon the walls, of another era, gone by....

Desperately seeking something inside, of these bolted moments

Trapped...

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The Dune on the Rock
    where fine grains of time     
gradually slip
revealing footprints
of lost vertebrates:

an archaic 
human being -
Neanderthal;
red deer, aurochs

elephants
and ibex…
crumbling sand

unveils
extinct 

past

------------------------------
Contest: Pick a Title Vol 12
Diminished Hexaverse
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Title: Gibraltar Crumbling
19th December 2019...

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Slowly the apricot sun rises

After spring's storm of yesterday

Pear blossoms quietly await sun's warmth

And bumble bees delightful play


A cold breeze stirs the bamboo wind chime

As roosters break the quiet morn

With crows calling sun wake up

Another day is suddenly born


In this quiet and stillness given

Before coyotes...

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 "I must write often so, I won't crumble . . ."

              Oh, I must write,
         or fall into shattered pieces;
   ...

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Beneath my feet
        Erode these blue granite mountains
      Pummeled by rain and wind with hail and sleet
        Forming creeks and fountains
  Into a crumbling of...

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You rise above me on your lofty pedestal
Cracking your razored whip
Ordering my possibilities
Leaving your intricate patterns on my back
Red lace adorns your masterpiece

I chip at the base of your column
Choosing for your mighty to fall
You are unaware of your teetering 
Cracks adorn your insignificance
Your monument...

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La fille dans mes rêves
(french title)


For why do I exist?
If love only exists in my dream

And for why do I breathe?
If you exist not at all

Shattered Ghost, hiding in the black of night
Blinded by love, frightened to a cold death

Blood flows into the seine
The knife...

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I'm sorry for things I've said And done
Sorry for the life I've lived
Sorry for pretending I was the victim
Sorry for not seeing,
I made you the victim
And crumbled your castle
Sorry for not showing you how much
I loved you
I love you
I'm sorry for crying over nothing
I'm sorry...

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Deep within me are rusty, crumbling memories and grief,
like a pile of rubbish the dregs of yesterday decay;
all the bits and pieces of my life deep and inner lay,
but under withering sadness I can find a flower or green leaf.
A beautiful memory rising and I...

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The castles built by human hands
crumble from the flood of years.
The moss that covers the ancient stones
are woven from nature's pool of tears.

A fabled dream of past nobility
haunts the aging body of rocks.
While the iron gates of stern dungeons
struggle to exist with rusted locks.

Spirits whisper...

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With my dreams crumbling around me
What does my mind see, nothing but confusion

With my life seeming to have no future
Is it all a delusion

With no hope in sight
What is my conclusion

Would be to end this dreadful flight...

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You beckoned me to love's door; The
steps you gilded with hope, and glossed
with a libido to score. With an open window
to heart's latch, on amor's ledge we
ballasted unbridled passions with reason's 
cerebral core. O'er time, your corrosive nature
did fealty's shutters crack. Your flamable
ego the fragile...

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Slowly the apricot sun rises

After spring's storm of yesterday

Pear blossoms quietly await sun's warmth

And bumble bees delightful play


A cold breeze stirs the bamboo wind chime

As roosters break the quiet morn

With crows calling sun wake up

Another day is suddenly born


In this quiet and stillness given

Before coyotes...

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An ancient city,
crumbling stone,
putrid stench,
hopeless sand.
Where is the green that once promised?
Where is the sky that gave birth?
The disappearence of clouds
is unpleasant.
They passed,
just as our ancestors
did long ago.
In the ancient city,
green is perceived
in shades of brown.
All other colors are non-existent,
just as our ancestors,
who lived long...

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“Can you feel the soul of an abandoned house,
can you hear the whispering”...by Constance La France

An old, abandoned house touches the heart
its walls whisper of the lives it once held
though pillars and stairs now crumbling apart
lingering stillness stirs a mystic spell
as it yearns for those...

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