Best Depleting Poems
Crystal winged hourglass flows muted gold sand
as time turns red dawn to pink dusk once more;
life’s tapestry fades as years so expand
but love in the heart gives youth to restore
when embraced with so much left to explore.
Crystal winged hourglass portrays such fleeting
finite life as time slips by depleting;
with love reborn, awoken from sleeping
so shall heavenly days be accreting -
when sand flows no more - just joy, no weeping.
Now brown, the once-blue brook meanders down
To dams where sludge has chased beavers away
As species die, our Mother casts a frown
For Nature can’t control man or his way
From fracking, tapping minerals, she groans
She coughs, red lava spews from Mother’s pores
With waste-clogged arteries, she weeps and moans
The very sight of man she now abhors
As Nature inhales toxins, man’s forewarned
Her colors change from purity to rage
Depleting ozone, Earth has now been warmed
Tsunamis, hurricanes take center stage
We shed our tears, entrapped by urban sprawl
But Mother turns her head and lets them fall
*December 5, 2018
Written for John Hamilton’s “Colour of My Heart” Contest
Inspired by “Colors of the Wind” from the movie “Pocahontas”
Silhouetted Stagnant Shadows
Stagnant shadows of night sequestered slaves in sight
Faces fading in fright as the fear feeds the lethargic light
Silhouettes of love in plight demons dancing in delight
As darkness devours the white, images surreal will smite
Within negative reflections of my loves dire defections
Outlines of lost connections metaphors of misdirection’s
Dormant internal infections reliving raging resurrections
Silhouetted projections of my dismal depleting affections
Black portraits of palpable pain never to rejoice and regain
Darkened phantoms of grain scornfully sabotaging the sane
Deceivers of the defiant drain tragically tangled of the twain
Vanity in a voiceless vain the sentinels stand in their reign
A dark matter display particles of light have gone astray
Within a decomposing decay a silhouetting fractal buffet
In my capturing love delay, silent shadows bitterly betray
And now my dreams are far away within a black hole ballet.
Sept.08.2017
Silhouette
Sponsored by... Craig Cornish
The shield riders heading over the Dunlaven bridge,
They ride as swift as the wind,
already their weapons were ready,
they did glint, not, in the deepening shadow.
Ride to your fate Valkyrie,
shield maidens of the red,
shield riders of the city,
bring glory to your mighty Alahsar.
Four hundred and fifty Valkyrie,
they stream forth from golden gates,
turning to the left and right,
three hundred onto Badicha.
three hundred to Dunlaven bridge,
the final stroke from Alahsar,
death is streaming forth,
hateful screams fill the air.
One hundred and fifty shield riders,
they leave the four hundred and fifty,
heading for the Raven bridge,
Speed is now of the essence.
The hundred and fifty, they head to the right,
onto the plain of Badicha,
Alahsar's forces, taken by surprise there,
To glory or death.
Shield riders, three hundred,
they stream across Dunlaven bridge,
so close this bridge to the walls of Alahsar,
Go, fiery warriors.
Across the river, they stream,
the waters coming through a large culvert in the wall,
cool, refreshing waters, from the great white mountain,
ride on Valkyrie.
In the final stage,
the battle rages on,
dark forces never seem to reduce,
They die and yet their numbers seem to be the same.
What sorcery is this?
Bodies so tightly packed,
hardly room to move sword or spear, or axe,
the strength soon to lessen more.
The ground is being given once more,
stride by stride ground seems to be given,
the struggle for life is truly on,
the posture seems to be more of defencive.
Is this a lure for the enemy?
could it be that strength is truly depleting?
only time shall tell,
the posture changes from moment to moment.
One hundred and fifty shield riders,
they smash into the flank of the enemy,
swords and spears striking home,
HALT!
the retreat stops,
a final push,
the Arlagh's are halted,
"Walk In The Light!"
the dark man cries as the dice is rolled.
"Walk In The Light!"
the battle cry is taken up.
Now, my lords and ladies,
it is time for our tale to take a rest,
I must lubricate my throat,
we shall return to Alahsar soon.
We shall then see the outcome of the battle,
the bloody rain of Badicha's plain,
raise your horns to Alahsar's glory,
the song of Alahsar, the glory of a dream.
To Be Continued.
I do it often,
drag a perfect morning
in through the front door of myself
and make it a reluctant guest,
replace its colors with my own
dour palette, drown out
its soft voice with noise.
It has become a habit, trying
to confine the morning's
width within my space,
hold its edges so it doesn't stretch
beyond my reach. Its freedom
is almost an anathema to me
for it exceeds my own.
How small my world has become.
The distance from one side
of myself to the other is getting
narrower, the little room left
is depleting breath by breath.
The light squeezes through
ever smaller windows.
And yet, as it came upon me
this morning, I was met
with a bright abundance
that had gathered at my door,
carrying forgiveness
for my habitual ignorance
and an invitation to step
outside myself, once more.
A spaceship called Hope... made from the future's grand mist,
is perched upon a launch pad of manic chemicals and loss.
With stun-gun emotion, Mother Earth regurgitates.
5-4-3-2-1
Her metal finger meets the button...
She releases her ballast...
Blast off!
My brain engulfing G forces.
Soon to become a mustard seed
in a speed-of-light garden.
Filled with gravid redheaded planets,
giving birth to fat-headed moons.
The stars are cheering, like starving mad islanders.
Light years have passed.
Ground control has lost contact.
(by choice or by accident).
The rations are depleting,
but I'm serene in a starry tranquility...
I've blown by a million past lives.
Apologized half-heartedly to an alien God.
Who wished me well, pointed toward a giant black hole.
Then disappeared into the vapor trail
of lost potential and cachexic hope.
It's eerily over.
There's no more virgin oxygen.
Only the stale argon of saints and tyrants,
casting shadows of black hallucinations
chanting:
"Little seed...little seed...Didn't you know this was a one-way flight?"
I gaze out a stained-glass window for the last time.
Church bells are ringing from the parched throat of time.
Four golden letters peel from the side of the star-dusted ship.
Satiating the madness of stars...
"Little seed...little seed."
We go about our lives as if with no clue
that all around us things on earth are dying
as other “great’ activities we pursue.
Good habits should mean more than simply trying.
For many crimes, mankind should be atoning.
Humankind, BE kind, or you will be crying!
Prick up your ears, and hear Earth’s gentle moaning.
Hear it in the oceans filled with our debris.
Where she chokes from all our filth, Earth is groaning.
Hear the silent shrieks emitting from each tree.
With forests razed – oxygen is depleting.
Extinction of creatues already we see.
This senselessness we cannot keep repeating,
or a deserved tragic end we’ll be meeting.
March 12, 2021
for D.W. Rodgers' While Mother Earth Gently Moans Poetry Contest
Flights of the Butterfly
Looking at the butterflies dancing decoratively divine
Their wings tickle & flutter the acoustical ambient air
Enthralled by their ethereal beauty as they intertwine
My eyes drawn to infinity in a pensive peaceful prayer
Butterflies within the morning seductive seclusive sun
Melodies of motion that move the silent secular heart
Blissful flights at depleting dawn have magically begun
Shamanist symphonies surrounding served ala carte
Exhibits of eternal etchings amidst a life aching archaic
They too can achieve upon flights of dimensional dance
Wondering works of ancestral art of a masters mosaic
For I sit amongst the daffodils and watch as they prance
My heart fulfilled with love as they float gracefully away
For the rewarding genial gestures thus exist as they play.
Oct.19.2018
ZEN Poetry
Sponsored by: Line Gauthier
N/A for contest
A Painful Tribute to my earth
Before me you were
I am here and you are
Thus both of us are together now.
Alas, I will be gone and you will go on!
You are giving me endlessly
And spreading on me lavishly.
Despite it, I plunder you;
I exploit you;
I mistreat you;
I don’t care for you.
I have forgotten that you are a living organism -
You need my care;
You need my concern;
You need my gentle respect.
You are not losing me;
I am losing you.
I am depleting you;
I am exhausting you;
I am rushing you to devastation
And in that I am rushing to my own exit.
What was, is nor more;
What is, will be gone
What will be, is not known.
Help me become aware of your sigh
Help me become aware of your neigh
Help me become aware of my own destruction
Help me save you to save myself.
Show me your might
Show me your power
Show me your anger
Show me your arrogance
Make me learn
Make me move
Make me understand your cry
Cry; make me hear your cry!
Cradled me like a mother then
Let me cradle you now
Help me help you
To achieve my selfishness
Love you, mother earth!
Love you dearly!
Thank you for nourishing me
Thank you for holding me
For enfolding me
Help me love you and love you more!
Name: Saahil Jag Jerry
Class: 5 A
Global Indian International School- East Coast
Singapore
Autumn arrives with nature’s kaleidoscope,
creates chromatic panorama motifs,
changing fast under the azure sky,
where wispy cloud wafts with hued lattice.
At the fringe of the fawn meadow
with grass crowned by topaz dew,
the verdant canvas of the waiting woods
gets a coat of vermillion and gold.
The depleting days of the wilting leaves
dawn with the collage of colors,
shaken by the northern wind,
from the bent branches they fall.
The gilded leaves whirl by my window,
float away to lie on the garden path.
I hear them create the rustle concert,
as the breeze sweeps them into a pile.
The crimson rays of the rising sun
shines the fallen foliage with aureate glitter,
entice me to walk on the golden path,
jumping in the pile of leaves.
I hear enchanted the sound of music,
as the leaves crunch under my feet.
The melody mingles with the whistle of wind
in the symphony of autumn’s rhapsody.
_______________
September 10, 2022
Theme chosen : Jumping in a pile of leaves
Contest : Fall Flavors
Sponsored by : Regina McIntosh
Shards of listening sunflowers, she's trapped in the gardens reflection,
contaminated shattered seedlings was not the topiary's intention,
inside the stamen, her severed particles, causing an afflicted defection,
scraps of glass and plastic lies beneath the roots, depleting the petals complexion,
the world divides into pieces from this stagnant pollution infection.
Date Written: February 23, 2016
For The Contest, Fragment of Life, Sponsor, Broken Wings
The earth is a cigarette,
The human race the lighter.
Is there a way to save it,
With millennials as the fighters?
The grim reaper draws a puff,
And the withdrawing end is acid rain,
Deforestation, over fishing, air pollution,
And other deadly stuff.
Global warming and thin ozone layers,
Are symbolic of the flame...
That's depleting out natural resources,
And melting polar caps all the same.
Genetic engineering and playing God,
Is drawing us toward the butt.
With lungs in soil erosion and degradation,
Over population and other negative things we've trod.
Let's be serious and stop the joking,
To save the Earth, we must quit smoking!
Saturday, November 27, 2021
Spare a thought
For buffaloes, bulls and bears groaning, mourning, starving
Under your collar don’t blow hot
Making rivers and rodents sad, carving
Space and time you don’t own
Encroaching on privileges animals and plants possess
In their comfort and discomfort zone
You dare to distress and stress
Best to minimize the plight
Reptiles and rabbits confront every morning and afternoon
With no morsels of grub in sight
As savannas and simians croon
Shambling in starvation style
Bulging bellies boast as labels of stables and fables of gluttony
For a convoy of jalopies cruising in single file
Pay last respect to Tony
Who’d passed on in pitiful poverty
Impecunious
Although in death no novelty
Comes through under the guise of ingenious
Crafting of manipulation
But you’d do well to sacrifice creature comforts to elevate the fate
Endured by long suffering trees and tigers whose daily nourishment ration
Ought to funnel a debate
On the injustice witnessed globally when a tiny few
Gorges on two thirds of world resources
With neither care nor clue
On the abuse fauna and flora sources
Suffer
Dwindle
Prefer
Decrease as the self satisfying spindle
Spins and spins
With little thought on air and water pollution
Pins
On environmental dissolution
Metamorphosing the Earth into a less habitable planet
Treated with disdain
Depleting the Earth’s net
Worth as polluters gain bargains again and again
Super profits
Turning a blind eye
To sarcasm skits, bludgeon bits and tendentious tweets
Lying inside a liberal lie
That all’s well
Environment concerns mean nothing
As imbalances and inhospitable elements swell
To spell doom unless you start caring for Mother Earth and her everything.
Picture this….
Laughter ceasing,
Hate increasing,
Time depleting!
People running,
Children shunning,
Chaos, plundering.
Fearful hiding,
Many misguiding,
Deeply sighing!
Desperate seeking,
Proud weeping,
Kings grieving!
Lions attacking,
Waters slacking,
Hunger mapping!
Picture this…
Kingdom coming,
Saints humming,
Drummers drumming!
Trumpets sounding,
Hearts pounding,
Brides abounding!
God rearranging,
Bodies changing,
Jesus reigning!!
Son shining,
Silver lining,
Jesus dining!
Masses smiling,
No crying,
No dying!
Wolf’s feeding,
Lamb’s leading,
No bleeding!
God designing,
Gold aligning,
Pearls defining!
Picture this..
God inviting,
Your name in writing,
Love uniting!
Hearts accepting,
No regretting,
You reflecting?
Stacey Brown
9-15-13
Preface
My name is Verlena Sexton.
I am in my forties.
I have three eccentrics – Oland. Emily, and Tony.
My adult children are my knowledge base in the world of iniquity.
I continue to face what I am depleting.
Form
In this bio, I must be unique.
As a Social Scientist, I will also be indiscreet to the point of reality in why I am objectively me.
Conformity
I grew up in Leland, Mississippi in a single parent household.
My great grandmother vested soul.
She and I would read scripture together to inform personality.
She would tell me this would ensure equity and identity.
My mom was a homemaker and a strong woman.
She dealt with life as it came.
She raised six children with little help from their dad.
All are grown now and she rests in Heaven.
My oldest sister is there as well.
My dad was married with a family at home.
I am the outside child from his union with my mom.
Outside means, I now look in to discover genealogy and to emerge into a biblical presence.
My dad is disable and doing well.
When he is call by Jehovah, I know he will be ready.
Orthodoxy
I am just an orphan looking for home.
I am not lonely, but I am alone.
Many obstacles I have overcome.
My love of family is a moral code.
As a mother, I must continue to be as strong.
I remember my mom in times of guidance.
My dad is always there with insight.
I am the cause and effect that manifest in life.
My great grandmother words are to believe in that which is precise
And to live a life vested in the spirit of Christ amplifies.
“The world is filled with liars my child. Trust will come via a rightful mind.”
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Penned on October 17, 2014!