Best Deflating Poems
Don't rush Spring
because of everything it brings
Each day in a season is valuable to explore
To live, to love, to experience more
Find the light shining in the snow
or when it's cold, enjoy warm cocoa
There's always something in a day
to see, to experience, to share, to give away
Go with the motion of beauty, its offer waiting
To appreciate as it is, before it disappeara deflating
Heidi Sands
1/25/24
(C)opyright
“Nobody likes a clown at midnight.” Stephen King
CLOWN AT THE ABYSS
Darkroom abscessed
with neon blush and black-blood —
sunken eyes look surprised
to find oneself in a dank dungeon.
Fecal stench, not humorous,
screams on each bold painted-on face.
“Are we dead?”
“When did I die?”
“I didn’t want to take along this honking nose! It never quits!”
“These humongous shoes, like flippers, so cold they grip!”
The clowns, their smiles and frowns,
continue to gripe in the big tent abyss.
The epic fail of their lives an applause
from the demons who have them in grip.
Like fools, they suppose, they can feel their way out.
They march in one straight line with clanging chains,
chortling, “Heigh Ho! Heigh Ho! It’s off to work I go!”*
You see, they can’t help being funny - never could.
So on they march clinging to claustrophobic walls.
Yet they, one by one, begin to notice no floor exists.
Squalid birds, their chains rattle and roll,
with cheap jokes that never cease.
“Take my wife…please.”
Rings through the air. The demons cackle and boo
their despair, occasionally deflating the roof of the tent
on their heads - it sticks to their gooey faces, causing
them to run out of hot air, go limp, confine their space
even more - no audience to exploit. When the roof rises
each one finds water caterwauled at their faces, then
strapped to a chair as sufferable makeup - acidophil -
leaks behind their eyes, into their pores, maliciously.
Clown at the abyss digs his nails into the soil, climbing
a mountain of ill will, always failing...falling, and then
the jokes hammer again...over and over, head over heels.
...head over heels,
with no end…
2/27/2020
Clown at the Abyss Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Kai Michael Neumann
*Disney’s Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs
permeates
ah yes my sweet,
the bloody heat,
permeates and thrills,
transfixed beguiled,
entranced awhile,
a steamy tale it builds,
explosive in its ending style,
deflating the hard inner child,
so subtle sweet, yet indiscrete,
who at the ending smiled.
re: 'Public Enemy -The Haiku-'
for p.d. who aint blue,
blessings babe from me 2u...
Don Johnson
the little man who sold balloons
was blown away by gales
he flew across the sea that night
and ended up in wales
he soared above a field of sheep
balloons deflating fast
and held on tightly to those strings
afraid to land at last
the moral to this tale of woe
it’s always painful letting go
for lisa’s contest
For Maxine
Sister, was there forgiveness for she who birthed you?
For us, your siblings and sometime charges?
For all who would not help, but hastened your demise?
The marble coldness of your corpse, to my touch,
was like an electric shock. The limbs, the torso,
with sudden strangeness, bore you slight resemblance.
You feared all pain, but died without complaint.
Was there a last, sharp twinge? A welcome to oblivion?
Even momentary awareness of your loss?
Or was death no more spectacular
than a tire deflating, slowly, quietly,
unrecognized, and inconvenient?
And was that the shame of it?
That your life ended, so early, so silently,
and death was no extravaganza?
I’m getting older - this fact I cannot deny
Not quite ready for the scrap heap or to give up life and die
My body isn’t quite the same; my boobies have gone south
But I keep on smiling with gleaming dentures in my mouth
Got a spare tyre round my middle now, I really need berating
Get a bit more exercise - soon the tyre will be deflating
My short-term memory is going I forget what I do or say
My short-term memory is going I forget what I do or say
I need to remember things I have forgotten since yesterday
I rely on Tena ladies now in case I dribble pee
Sneezing, coughing and laughing can cause a little wee
My short-term memory is going I forget what I do or say
My short-term memory is going I forget what I do or say
I need to remember things I have forgotten since yesterday
I have three pairs of glasses now as my eyesight is getting poor
I forget where I have put them – then I find them on the floor
My short-term memory is going I forget what I do or say
My short-term memory is going I forget what I do or say
I need to remember things I have forgotten since yesterday
My hearing is it is going too, I don’t hear what you say
I need to buy a hearing aid but I’m putting off that day
My short-term memory is going I forget what I do or say
My short-term memory is going I forget what I do or say
I need to remember things I have forgotten since yesterday
My once brown hair is going grey and now I’ve hit the dye
I colour it quite regularly you can guess the reason why
My short-term memory is going I forget what I do or say
My short-term memory is going I forget what I do or say
I need to remember things I have forgotten since yesterday
My joints creak and ache and they really need a rub
I must buy some more Radox and put it in my bath tub
My short-term memory is going I forget what I do or say
My short-term memory is going I forget what I do or say
I need to remember things I have forgotten since yesterday
21st March 2014
Submitted to 101 in a row contest #5 sponsored by PD Linda:-)
Written from observation and experience … but I’m not admitting to anything!!!
NB: UK Spelling of TYRE has been used
Of the distance,
beauty appeared at peace, calmly resting.
Proximity grew closer to this human figurine;
lengthy legs painted in ocean blue jeans.
The thesis statement to male's eyes in dreams.
But those legs...
Those legs were the topic of my eyes
Pupils conversing in-between her inner thighs
The rhetorical tongue eager to submit beneath sun rise
Thickened bridled muscle strengthens to rise
I mean d*** Oh me! Oh myy!
Oooo wee such a beautiful sexy queen.
Envisioning,
If at current, her faucet is running. ..
Slow-ly d
r
I
p
p
I
n
g or simply leak-ing
So the fleshes hydration can be full-filling.
Muscles within muscles while warm liquid falling?
Can we start engaging?
Lips connect; gently kissing... (Pause)
But the guiltiness in the minds eye began interrupting
Spirit intervening
Muscles deflating
Suddenly, no tempting to the extent of no lusting
Corrective vision restoring
Walking through the escape door from fornicating...whew!
As the moon tiptoes in
Eyes close and knees bend
The darkened closet within
Praying to overcome this certain sin
That I indeed struggle in
And that I may be born again
This I pray, from day to day...Amen
INK-U-SCRIPT
06-04-2014
Spring pushes ground
to cherished green patches
in sun (splattered)
that breaks the grayness
that winter shows
in its shuttered shops of cold
Daffodils ambush sight
with a snappy smirk of yellow
each with six petals circling an inner crown
soulful flowers
harpooning sadness
like spring deflating winter woes
rumbling in guarded vision
Re-centering a search for comfort
in what breaks through April's reluctance
to find a spotlight worthy
like daffodils' benign seduction
showy trumpets, gush of swagger
in a golden pose of color
When our world returns to focus
unmasking
missing faces.
Poem revised May 23, 2021
I float effortlessly alongside you
Tied by a silken string
To an outstretched hand
Once buoyant, light and full of hope
My exterior begins to shrink
Around my deflating soul
My pale skin once shiny and taught
Now loose and greying
Drifting slowly to the floor
The silken thread released
Loosely falling behind
With my sagging soul to the ground
Now the razamataz is over
Looks like Trump is next in line.
If he does what he is proclaiming
Everything will be just fine
If like his name*
He is full of hot air like a deflating balloon
Then “God Bless America” comes to mind
Not just America we’re sure to find.
Must give the man a chance
He is a millionaire by right
Must have had some brain to acquire this
Just that cell doesn’t glow so bright
Please Mister President stop putting your foot in it
Think before opening wide
I will raise my glass to you Donald Trump
At the end of office, you can then say
“I Tried”
Penned 9 November 201
*To trump is to break wind
Stop drinking alcohol,
this only reassures us,
like social media,
like your favourite TV shows,
and drugs,
that our personal problems are all okay,
when intoxication is an escape route,
from our abstract reality.
Smoke cannabis on special occasions,
with friends,
on holidays,
away from work,
and daily routines,
Marijuana is a medicinal herb,
like cough syrup,
don't abuse its benefits.
Exercise and go for a run,
Get lost in the gum tree bush,
find yourself amens fresh river streams,
and rich oxygen,
Perfect place to escape stress,
And release pain.
Wake up every day before sunrise,
Take all the opportunity,
to feel the sunlight,
above and beneath the eyes,
supplying us with all the vitamin D we need.
Stop watching Tv,
scrolling through social media,
Playing video games,
deflating our brains,
Manipulating our reality,
distorting the truths,
read books,
newspapers,
history,
and you'll see.
I know these future goals are difficult to attain,
But to emerge out of our sea shells,
we must confront our inner pains,
Don't let temptation dwell,
Don't restrict to the social norms,
Live life the way you feel,
Understand your body,
push its limits and boundaries,
until you realise there's none.
Sacrifice your time to help the poor and unconditioned,
to stand up on their feet,
into a healthy lifestyle and routine.
Live life with complete honesty,
And I promise you,
Nature will roll in ecstasy at your feet,
You will laugh with all joy,
with the realisation that,
sacrifice and love were meant to be.
I feel solidified
Captured in blue-green horizon
They are eternal and faceless
My lungs; brown paper bags deflating
My milk structures are curdling
There are tiny mouths taking microscopic airs
Aerated and heavy as oxygen in a stone sphere
Gaumless and watched by black-ochre shadows circling
Compacted as mud underfoot and crushed
By reaching hands exploring my hollow flesh
Taking me further down and circles of dust
Rosaries in waterlogged,
snowman three meters high
an inelegant formation
of grizzled snow packed in lumps
needing refinement
stubby tree-branch arms
glutching fastened balloons, blue and yellow
bobbing in the wet licks of wind
snowman towering, gently twisted
desperate grit to thwart a winter's thaw
as blue and yellow balloons bounce near an icy chest
like a slow tempo beat of heart
plundered sense of capture
quirky
resilient balloons
scripted bits of childhood charm
not yet swept aside by tempest
nearby
snatched away by breezes
one red balloon traces the street gutter
like a beggar foraging returnable cans
red balloon smitten with blotches of mud
deflating in the mercenary chill
its gentle sway like a cheeky concept of self
unrestrained
in the vagrancy of night
Poem composed February 7, 2023
Suddenly it seems so blurry
And universe seems so big
Walking alone is being lonely
Though I’ve done it for so long
The road is somewhat dancing
Affecting my sense of balance
Easily stunned by the flash of lightning
Missing another chance
Fighting without arms on my hands
Leading a path with no decision plans
Acting it weird, feeling so down
So unfamiliar with my own homeland
My dreams are deflating
No more energy to run the train
Slowing down until it stopped
I’m no machine to numb the pain
As falling leaf reach the ground
As it moves away with the wind
My dreams are fading into none
Grasping it hard as my doubts extend
As if nowhere to go now
When there’s so much road to take
Over ruled by fear and future failure
My creation now are made to be break
And though the world is breathing
Moving people on their loud heartbeat
Here it comes a half living zombie
Trailed its feet in a crowded street
As if alive but lost in a dead forest
Where there’s no life exists
Tormented skulls and cadavers on my feet
Painting of black where only blood is red
As soon as the night comes
The moon and dark creatures appear
Crickets singing their confusing chorus
Ghosts are somewhere out there
Counting each uncertain steps
Thinking life would to be end like this
But on spur of a magical moment,
A lucid firefly grant me a kiss
And as it moves away from me
Thousand others explode from a dead tree
Sudden smile was drawn on my face
As those fireflies lined to light my way
While others perched on tree’s fragile branches
My body stilled as I stunningly watches
As they create an alluring scenery of luminescence
I forgot that I’m lost in the middle of absence
And soon I walked along the firefly lane
Worries gradually grow faint and disappear
The moment was beautiful that I forgo the pain
For these specks of living lights gave me hope again
I genuinely like myself for most of the things I do
And it brings me joyous pleasure when it pleases you
When we do things for each other it seems to work just fine
And trouble will come calling when I think too much is mine
We’re in this life for sharing, to that there is no doubt
Wisdom, inspiration, humour, all have their unique clout
But being home and lonely has a vocabulary of its own
Lonesome thoughts hauntingly dictate such a different tone
Sadness, depression, and grief, such strong exhaustive notions
Stopping me in my tracks, conjuring such negative emotions
Attacking my sensitive ego and deflating my self esteem
And feeling sorry for myself, what does that even mean
The words that I am thinking and playing in my mind
Should be of greater wisdom, inspiring and more kind
Making me feel better and making you feel better too
Holding us together like a delicious emotional stew