Best Decays Poems
It feels like the world
has been struck by a
plague of pathological lies,
where fictional truth
seems to sell better,
the allure of
imitation glistens
even brighter,
while superficial tongues
recite infected mantras,
praising slaves of Satan~
singing corpse lullabies.
And I can feel
my drained soul
descending
into darkness,
as this cathartic
sanctuary
slowly decays,
into odds and ends
of incessant numbness.
Spikes drive through
this splintered ribcage,
shackling my life force,
to silently bleed
in salvation.
I feel the scorching
iron ore entering
my splitting heart,
as they watch
the crimson flow,
mocking my
doomed empathy.
For kindness
is disregarded,
in a cynical world
that has no mercy,
falling into an
abyss of tears,
awaiting eternal sleep,
never to rise to
another devil’s trance,
whilst bleeding in
reckless reckoning.
I am the mistreated
mistress in misery,
stranded in the
midst of an
abandoned island~
cruising through
roaring waves,
in desperate hope
for butterfly bliss.
I trace
deadly deeds
in bloodstained
sea-castles,
pleading the lord,
to tether
the cold walls,
that hide all these
layers of brokenness.
Carvings of
chaos on my skin,
choreograph a
prodigious dance
of death,
commemorating
creased calm,
with prophetic
songs that
have no life.
For the coldest
breeze still
lingers in circles,
from the pits of
an out-burnt mountain,
reluctant to rearrange
dried up poison,
with their cape
of sentiments,
in cold refrains
and resentment.
Yet I question the
cosmic Peridots
scattered between
moonstones in
artless skies.
How can a poet
make the dead
seem beautiful again,
when musty maggots
are the only
fillings they would get?
The Secret of the Mortician
Dead, but I got eyes
Prepares my body at the morgue
Opens the chest
Drains the blood from its nudity
Admires my body before it decays
After The process of embalming
His hands run all over
I'm still dead
He's satisfied
The next day
Writes an outstanding obituary
I sit on display
~SKAT~
"Marionette of Flesh in a Borrowed Dress"
- Daniel Henry Rodgers
The hourglass,
a skeletal jester
mocks in the tomb's chill
Each falling grain an emaciated sigh,
"Soon you'll cease to be."
The mirror's cold reflection,
a Gorgon's ghastly guise
A marionette of flesh with vacant...
hollow...
colorless eyes.
The worms, like pallid mourners
watch me shrink
A marionette of organs,
cold and pale, pink.
This flesh, a borrowed dress
once sprightly
Now stained and thin
Holds tight the secrets only
death can win.
This borrowed dress,
a shroud where my story's writ
In laughter's faded stitch
and tear's accusing slit.
A map of life etched deep
with scars that mar the grain.
A raven of fleeting triumphs
a pendulum of ceaseless pain.
In the shadowed hollows
where sorrow resides
I languish.
marionettes of fate's cruel designs!
Each scratch and cut a lament.
each tear a bitter sea!
Bound by the chains of my...
limited mortality.
In this borrowed dress,
I mourn what could have been...
Lost in the convulsion of my own... sin.
I am transformed
but not redeemed.
I am drifting into the void
My spirits are shattered
and my dreams destroyed.
So in the silence of eternity
I find my rest
Lost in this body of my own...
detest.
And though this shell
a chrysalis
soon withers
and decays
I cast aside the shroud
no longer bound or worn.
Accept the endless night,
where a new self-forlorn is bourne.
Transformed
a residual relic
through the void
I fly
Suture with stardust catgut,
a worn scroll in the sky.
Last night I wandered past your total disregard
And walked forlorn
Stark insecurity amplified
Still I walked , my usual forebearance uncomplied
Upon furthermost the distance between us elongated
The sustenance of forgotten stores inside me generated
I was venerated - nay subjugated
Of these morsels congregated
And fed me through those inkblack nights
In dewfall of the quiet
Inside unheard the rebel riots
As my breath became a billion
As my fears that I embraced
Loosed themselves and fearing fled
Melting in the murky bellows
Did I find my standing there...
Naked but for meekness laced
Forgotten was my fear
I needs you dId not anymore
Nor your disregard this doggone day
Not dejected as before
Only sin has me surrounded
And soon encircled dissappears,decays
Unclothed in limped insignificance
Nothing said ...
So still your body lies
My souls mutters in the muteness;
"Is my melancholy more melancholic than yours?"
I gaze across a bridge,
wondering which stream flows to you,
as nobody understands how
in the definition of lament,
I am a piano without a pianist
and you a harp without strings.
My heart is a weeping willow
within a godforsaken garden.
As the last blossom decays,
the image of you is fading,
resembling fallen leaves on soggy ground.
I don't belong in this numbness,
nor know how to explain why
my voice is lost in the vastness
of valleys without endless echoes.
I've forgotten what I wanted to say,
attempting to escape this maze of sorrow -
yet your words reverberate without resistance.
Pondering if your spirit will guide
me from this uncertain terrain,
I'm distracted by the silent hum of grief.
It hurts like an eerie lullaby,
unable to soothe the stillness of your ghost.
As silhouettes disappear in the dimming light,
I protect a fragile flame in your remembrance,
before withered leaves fade into ash.
she stands beside the sea
a tear escapes, runs down her face
melancholy comes to embrace
the past won’t set her free
lost love decays without a trace
_______________________________
Contest: Writing Challenge 2 Lind68868
Sponsor: Dear Heart
Placed 1st
©18th May 2019
Closure eludes my clasp
Love wilts, somehow lasts
The destination beyond my grasp
The dream decays day by day
Your light, which never fades
Simply stopped shinning my way
Castrating chains of second chair
Faithfull, I wither for you there
Sucking stale stagnant air
Barely beating beneath my breast
My heart, now a hospice
Gently lays it all to rest
Lightly felt faintly heard
Pumping, pain-numbing words
Its over…its over… its over
Cities churn like a raging sea of gulls
Where fear becomes a broken unchained door
The mask of hunger covers every skull
Fighting for scraps tossed on a dirty floor
Buildings stand, some falling where streets collide
and garbage decays still in blinded sight
Where change is nothing, its where death abides,
to disturb hate, born by a cities plight
Children play where glass always lay shattered
and homeless snore on every darkened street
Among the crowd women whose clothes are tattered
Find life lifeless when a child's death defeats
Far from the rubble and city's broken walls
Greedy men of oath sit, toss scraps to gulls
5/1/15
Amplifying vehemence of thunder, roaring on skyline ablaze,
Lightning strikes, shattering clouds, sparkling scorching haze,
Blasting dry, sunstruck meadows, drenching thirsty terrain,
Gushing streams, rushing thrust ferocious of turbulent rain.
In realms of dimming yonder, trees whirl, shake, and sway,
Grooving to rhythms of foothills, expressive of feisty ballet,
As incessant downpour pelts, dispersing sweltering heat,
Dancing on prairies and rivers, resounding a boisterous beat.
Down the mountain, over plush valley, beyond an arid knoll,
Breezing with the fleeting storm, reinvigorated vistas scroll,
Scintillating in beams of gold, twilight soon brings to fore,
Adorning arc amethystine, where dream-scapes violet soar.
Enlightened in scarlet rays, as grimace of humid malaise decays,
Revealing a glint, avid day, piercing through tenebrous daze,
Misery retreats rapidly, withering anguish of a vanishing day,
Engraving motifs crimson, upon tapestries once mired in gray.
Reveling in unfolding scene, gawking eve’s resplendent tempo,
From the street, through windows, fixating on the skylit show;
Eyes enamored now applaud~ orange, indigo, smile of rainbow,
Peeking through blazing halo, flaunting art of evenfall aglow.
My fate decays like dead moss on a tree.
Soft teardrops fall like leaves caught in a breeze.
My shadow still remains lost in debris,
as I reside in prison on my knees.
In darkness no light helps me find the key.
O let us meet again to make it right
Bridge me your love to cross
The river flows a torrent tonight
We must restore what time has lost.
O let me try again to know your ways
Graft me upon your soul as light
Forgotten fruits unpicked decays
And blind bats suckle them with delight.
O let us sit together and share a day
The golden hours fade from sight
Words cannot like sawllows ever play
O let us meet again to make it right.
where he takes his dates
is undisturbed and concealed
by myriad pines.
left behind, their flesh decays
over time . . . into the sand
DISTANCE
Walking towards the light
Leaving behind a wink of the night
Ignoring the massive things between
Exploding with all the things I've seen
Reality to dreams, it may be
Blinded by the ways of me
Without knowing my deception
Painting myself with a bad description
About me, I have no reason to lie
Some things should never be asked why?
A sickening motion due to gravity
When life decays turn into a cavity
Life will soon find a solution
Ahead of myself like a resolution
Developing the pictures of all time
Predicting a way out of a single crime
I sit and listen to all incoming observations
While my mind is lost in its own rotation
Losing myself in a severe way
I hate the way I wake up everyday.
S.K.A.T.
How deadly this sweet drink of praise,
that sipped, decays the thing it lauds.
A sly deceiver, 'tis, oh yes,
this chronic craving for applause.
A first place prize, the kiss of death,
to art original and free.
But now is surely lost I fear,
in muddy mires of mimicry.
Were not men strong
and women beautiful
Children adorable
and old men wise
Were not tyrants evil
and angels good
Dogs faithful
and prophets misunderstood
Were not the stars named
and world divided
Hearts claimed
as God decided
Were not the races proud
and thunder loud
Hearts broken
and the valued stolen
Was not the world wicked
and entrance, a ticket
Hopes shatered
and time a barrier
Were not words wasted
and defeat tasted
Dreams untrue
and offers with drew
Are not ledgends taken in time
and hero's made slaves to wine
Certian disasters
and life no longer mattered
Are not moments made
and powers magnificently displayed
Salvations delayed
while the guilty repaid
Were not inventions made so fast
and made obsolete in recent past
Invention oblivion
they were newly made but didn't last
And did not time travel slow
measured by faces that turned old
Death decays
as the trees of our generation sway
Were not we all given a choice
to listen to that still small voice
Discision made
ignorant or proud all that you
allowed