Best Deception Poems
Silent Lies and Deception
In the silence of murky waters
There slithers oily snakes of the night
Wearing masks of deception
Beware of fools singing with Stalin’s tongue
The KGB shall set you free
Drowning you in the river Volga
The cold water keeping your lips tight
Whilst the silent ones spread their deceits
Lies, lies their dirty little lies
I wonder how their tongues wag and loudly sprout
So righteous, like imams with out a doubt
I call for radio silence
When comes the clique of hate
They say they have none, and
Maybe this is true
They run out at times, spreading it to you
Those who truly have good will and peace
Growing like flowers in a botanical heaven
Never spew the bloody insecticides here on earth
That alters the genes of peace in me and you
Beware of white sheep
That howls like the wolf at the full moon
A wise man knows the meaning of silence
Silent ones simply slither sneaky prose in the night
The Caspian Sea
Holds many ghosts who if not for death
Could tell you many silent tales
Of those with a million smiles and twisted masks
Seekers of the Silent Lies and Deception
Dead Sea and salty tombs
Silent in womb
Notes: The last poems Angel and Devil, about mans ability for both good and evil, I continued the theme here, by describing two repressive regimes, Russian under the likes of Stalin and Putin and the Palestinian one under Arafat. The poem is either incomplete or to be continued in a second poem, as in the end I inferred the Silent one Amina, a story about the repression and hardships of women in India. An excellent book by a great author Fiza Pathan.
POTD 4th Nov 2019
Vanquishing all reservation
twilight's prelude heralds
shadowy anticipation
of a secret amorous thirst
He surrenders once more
to his darkest desires
amplifies the sultry ambiance
with star spangled bursts
A slave in her entity
tremulous in her splendour
Captivating and illuminating
this shadowy tryst
yet her heart beats not in rhythm
to the songs he composes
she dismisses him once more
Saying… ‘it is what it is’
However, through chinks of his ardour
ebbing resplendence
Predominant primacy
hard to resist will persist
refusing to believe …’it is what it is’
refusing to believe …’it is what it is’
The intricacies of love
too difficult to fathom
Her preference mismatched
he cannot define
her daily mantra
heightens sensations
reserved for the one
who appears to outshine?
Nothing but ineffectual
is her discordant course
the unyielding reality
of it drives him insane
and through the ebbing darkness
she hears him screaming ….’it is NOT what it is
It is Not what it is’
No satin ropes will tether
her cosmic line of duty
No romantic soft liaison
would induce her to stay
Tremulous and tender
her love cruelly wanders
from his romantic serenade
she turns her light away
Succumbs to his enemy…Day
whispering softly…. ‘it is what it is
It is what it is’
POTD 4th Nov 2019
Please don’t try to pull the wool over my eyes – I'm not a blind sheep!
10th February 2015
Sweet Talkers of the Devil
Reptiles in human suits are the true sweet talkers of the devil,
and are well known among the various societies in our world
as slick, sleek actors who fancy the breaking of common law
virtues by their actions in supporting ungodly acts of a real
form of reprehensible separatism that opposes all that is right
and true under God’s eyes in civilized human society.
These malefic actors are the perfect humanoid reptiles for
spreading their surreptitious message of greater autonomy
in the world as they seek to divide and conquer all people
in human societies with their notion and true intention of
setting back the real, hard-earned historical progress that
mankind has achieved over the centuries that have been
marked by war, strife, prejudice, tyranny, nonsense, and
utter debauchery.
What’s at stake you might ask? Think of the implications
of the negative actions proffered and foisted upon all
innocent people worldwide. Think about all the progress
mankind has achieved over the centuries while having to
confront and to defeat the uncanny forces of deception,
darkness, and true evil.
Beware of the Sweet Talkers of the Devil!
Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
November 1, 2021 (Narrative)
You sockdologizing old man-trap long decayed
where claws curl tight in dust and brittle bone
your lies are hyenas dancing in the flame
their jaws a rattle tearing flesh to stone
their laughter cracks the silence and the name
of truth that bleeds until the world has grown
as hollow as the bones they gnaw upon
each tooth a dagger that breaks the heart to dawn
beneath your skin a hunger spills and swells
its teeth are rust its eyes a fevered glow
it gnashes bone until the broken tells
of sins that fester deep where no one knows
your hollow self a wind that pulls and wells
the hunger of a lion’s endless throes
and in your voice a low and raspy cry
that cracks the earth and cracks the brittle sky
beneath the skin your hunger splits the bone
its grasp a vice that crushes what it seeks
the stars fall silent cold and overthrown
their light consumed in frantic, bloodstreaked streaks
the air is thick with death and poisoned stone
where hunger howls beneath the shadowed peaks
yet still in your trap the pulse of truth will grind
a seed that's sown then left to twist and rise
your walls of lies are dust beneath the weight
of hunger’s edge and all that once was wise
though still you chase the fading spark of fate
your fingers crushed beneath the weight of mind
from soil once cursed where hate was built to last
the truth will rise unbroken and unmasked
for lies may hunt but truth though torn and scarred
is cut deep and rips your sockdologizing heart trap apart
Her eyes are blind to all his lies,
excuses and false alibis
The woman cuddles, silently
beside her lover, brazenly
until dawn welcomes the sunrise.
She cannot see behind his guise,
the charade she'll come to despise.
Defending him, defiantly.
Her eyes are blind ~
One day it will be no surprise,
when the veil will fall from her eyes
but until that day, quietly
she lives unaware, piously
on knees, a slave never to rise.
Her eyes are blind ~
If tormented truth is
the taste of her fire,
injecting her blood
with poisoned rain
in golden chalices,
what is the color of
eclipsed spheres
where there’s a
desolated darkness
that dwells through
devious spirits
to rise higher?
Maybe there’s no
heaven nor hell in
the onyx fields of
soulless stars,
where obsidian roses
bloom as signs of
the devil’s immortality,
crooning doomed
hymns to the
honeycomb hues
of raven's irises,
which reflect every
bitter dream painted
in strokes of thunder.
But when dusk
bleeds seas of deception,
sins stream through
sinister shadows,
slowly pulling innocence
to a chamber of pitiless
pins and heinous knives.
So watch her ascend
as the metaphorical mistress
of death and beyond,
she is no longer your
heretic queen
that serves you light,
that once breathed
and walked through
storms of toxic typhoons
cloaked in
summer serenades,
taming every hurricane
with her crystal wings
that never tethered
to an evil king of serpents.
The yellow neon sign casted a glow upon his chiselled cheekbones as the bustling sounds of a city that never slept droned on.
He carried his troubles with him, like a worn out cloak, weighing him down in his every step. His mind was entwined in a thorny thicket.
He has been haunted and bewildered since his introduction to her in a smoky speakeasy.
She was a siren shadow amongst strangers of the night, whispering his name in the breeze, intoxicating his psyche with a tempestuous flame.
She entangled him in a perilous dance, playing a game of chance.
Their encounters were like unbridled wildfires. She captivated him, consuming his soul with her potent allure. He felt engulfed, delicate as a feather in a storm, swept away by her force.
However he was a moth enticed by a relentless flame, she incinerated his dreams and made him feel hopeless. In the end, he succumbed to the hounds of disassociated reality.
His story concluded in tragedy, leaving his loved ones cries to echo through the empty streets of a heartless city.
your eyes betrayed you
it was there in the fine print
chance another look
Senryu Contest
Sponsored by Mick Talbot
07/12/2018
Dangerous water,
A master of deception;
For I am...black ice.
I searched for the answer
to a question I dared to ask
wondering why people hide
behind so many masks.
The query was this:
"What's happened to integrity
when honesty is replaced
with deceit and insincerity?"
I had several insightful answers
but was left in grim despair
when i realized that so few noticed,
or perhaps they just didn't care.
It's indicative of the times
in which the world now exists;
one in which deception reigns
with belligerence and raised fists.
In the distance I saw you there
Forgive my silly childlike stare
But lately I’ve become so aware
Of your whispers of light
You shine brighter than the rest
It’s incredibly obvious you’re the best
All night flight I’d gladly invest
For your whispers of light
I’m not surprised when I arrive
To see such brilliance you’re so alive
Your other suitors can’t seem to survive
Your whispers of light
I’m getting closer to your flame
This journey has been somewhat insane
I'm expecting the miraculous, girl I finally came
To your whispers of light
I’ve been warned you’re more than clever
That closer to you means closer to never
To hold you in that moment is to regret forever
Still I'm drawn to your whispers of light
To see others fall only makes me stronger
How can I resist your angel glow any longer
Reached out to touch couldn't have been wronger
Your whispers of light made this moth a goner!
~Lyric Man
Note: This is a song about how the bright light of infatuation blinds. Like a moth attracted to the flame. Sometimes getting closer to your target is dangerous, even fatal :)
As a dreamer, I never once dwelled on schemers,
so, as a believer, I fell for him, a deceiver.
I was never an anger screamer and tear streamer
until romantic panic lay me down as griever.
I believed his story, his strengths and regrets
which had me set to gently drift into his net
where hidden, as yet, were his sharp-hearted threats.
He spoke of love most profuse when he played to seduce.
I revealed all my truths, he used them for abuse
while running hot then cold to steer me towards confused.
Oh, he was charm, lushness and warmth, a manly steamer.
Then he was harm, harshness and cold, a heartless quiver.
Playing the fool to his cruel, is my self-debt,
one my brain did not deduce, nor heart now excuse.
The deception of “free verse”: Dreams II, Translation of Etiemble’s “L’imposture du vers libre” by T. Wignesan
“Free verse, free not to be verse” – Audiberti
My love is not blue like a lake
my love is not blue like a sky
but red swollen with blood
and of ire
No lapping sounds of oars
playing out a nocturne
Bienne lake or that of Bourget
ever beat out the loping of my heart
My love’s neither blue nor like a lake
nor like a sea of oil
In the cauldron of boiling oil
a witch throws in a thumb
and the formula
My witching love
sputters and bursts out
stinging these busts and this lip
red
Vehement like a she-demon
it dances in a mad whirl
My left temple
wails
with the furious ocean
which rumbles under my pillow
What ships wreck in this sunken heart
still bleeding
of all the hearts it peeled
bleeding bodies of the young girl
And this heart weeps over its deaths
Like those on All Souls’ Day
the old hoary woman weeping
twisted up into wailing somersaults
which pad the cries of skeletons
clinging to rapacious granite
My heart beating on the pillow
muffles the voice of the friend
which begged the evening gone by
“Tell me it’s not over yet!”
And like the ocean cowardly
I collapse into my bed
to better listen to the tolling
of my temples and my heart
a delusionary
song of joy.
Signed: Jean Louverné (pseudonym)
(c) T. Wignesan - Paris, 2014 (Translation
Broken hearts, but fixed faces.
No scares on outer appearance.
scares and dim stars within.
Peace on the outside,
but war within.
You never truly seen the home,until you walk in.
Glass broken in every room,while pretty
decorations outside,leaving you to assume.
Any home might need a good broom.
Until you walk in please don't assume.