Best Deploring Poems
tiny words
'went to the gas station
and opened my mouth
filled my stomach
with gasoline
lit a match and
swallowed it in
burned myself
smoked with fire
i spread like charcoal
smeared in a kid's hand
stenched and charred black
i spread to the pristine clouds
deploring the blue vault
like a black shiitake flower
suffocating lungs
with a dire myth
then went to the ocean
and devoted myself
to no resistance
and drowned .......
'cut my lips with sharp
visceral shale and waited
for the sharks to gnaw
my weightless lips and
useless mouth ..........
while the rest of me
traveled in the bellies
of fish ..............
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fed by tiny words .
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GOD: Good, Goddess,Giving,Gem,Glee,Goodness, Gorgeous, Gift ,Glad, Giddy, Giggle, Greet,Grand, Generous,Glitter,Gold,Glow,Grow,Gratifying, Grandma, Grandpa, Gallant, Groom, Green, Groovy, Grace, Gospel, Grapes, Guide, Gentle, Gay,
Grounded, Grant, Guest, Graduate, Glory, Glisten, Grass, Glare, Gleam, Garden, Grateful, Gracious...
DEVIL: Demon,Damned,Devour,Doom,Deceive,Divided,Death,Down,Dark, Dump, Derelict, Defect, Destroy, Drunkard, Drop, Ditched, Drown, Divorce, Deprave, Deform, Difficult , Damage, Dagger, Deny, Decay, Dissolve, Defiance, Dirty, Deranged, Dungeon, Devious, Delirious, Disobey, Dislike, Decline, Demanding, Decadent, Doubt, Defraud, Depressed, Drought, Demoted, Denial, Discord, Distant, Disrupt, Disturb, Disown, Danger, Defeat, Demented, Dementia, Disposed,Deploring, Despair, Disease, Dread, Disgust, Despite, Distract, Dastardly, Delete, Drain, Darn, Dishonest, Dollar, Disaster, Debt,Desert, Desolate, Distraught, Damn, Detain, Displease, Duped, Destruction, Diabolical, Delinquent...
Feb.25.2016 ^WW^
Written by D. W. Breidenthal
You take my breath away
I wanna stay in this entrancing paradise
I want all of the negativity to fade away
The darkness isn’t my property…I despise
Living a life that’s filled with misperception and disaster
I would love to live in the ocean’s ecstasy
That would be spectacular if we can abide in the sparkly sea
This eccentric dilemma makes your angelic features too unclear
It chills me to the bone…
My heart pounds with hope and fear… when will peace draw near
This flawless wish remains unknown
The night’s approaching…seek shelter and light
Painstaking regrets – I can’t back away from gravity’s pull
Hand me the rope and don’t bestow your burdens upon my soul
Sift away the misfortune and allow me to put up with the fight
Help me fulfill my flawless wish
And I’ll strip away your anguish
You’re a burning candle
I raise my head up from the mud
I step forward with courage that I couldn’t handle
On my own, but you stripped away the agony
Watch us grow and sprout as one flower bud!
You took my heart to a wonderful place
I wanna desert this decaying body of mine and seek you in splendid light
You forgave me for my wrongs…you thrilled me with praise
I wanna embrace the dawn’s incredible, appealing light...
Sweeping away the deploring night
It soothes my sensitive heart…dismissing my vexing misery
I have the urge to repaint the breathtaking memories I’ve spent with you
Will it scratch away the sorrow?
I have to search for shelter and burn away our calamity – slaying us with rue
Will my flawless wish store hope for tomorrow?
They couldn't have chosen a nest-bed more complex, or vaster.
I lauded their industry (toiling through Sunday, no qualms!),
and almost felt guilty for loitering by their pilaster.
My wife was the hold-up. Those scanty straps were a disaster,
her shoulders cold-shouldered! Here, there's no right to bare arms.
Basilicas don't come mightier, or more splendid, than this one:
Saint Peter's in Rome, High Renaissance, wide-fabled by poets.
The great Michelangelo crafted this Christian Aswan:
they've gathered its glories in guidebooks, so no-one need miss one.
Those frantic ants scampered on legend, but they didn't know it.
And isn't that rather like us? As we hurry and scurry,
accomplishing little, accounting ourselves oh so clever,
ignoring the story (except our immediate worries),
deploring as boring whatever creates no quick flurry,
we miss the magnificence dwarfing our petty endeavours.
"Well, I'm sorry but this is boring and your list of fines, it's got me snoring and I don't mean to be ignoring you but pouring out my story won't make my driving less deploring so I guess what I'll admit is that some of these tickets are legit but I wish you would just quit having this fit, since there really was no marking saying no parking and my dogs are really barking. So let's hurry this towards an end, is driving backward really so absurd? I won't pretend no accidents occurred but from what I heard it could be worse, for pete sakes it was only some defective brakes, this really takes the cake for such a small mistake, and sometimes I think they're just too bright so I drive at night with no headlights and you might think you're right but did we really need a seatbelt when we felt we were held in by more people than seats dealt? It just doesn't make sense, it's only an expired license! It's all in the past tense and I don't appreciate your comments about that ticket so I'll tell you where to stick it!
I will pay the speeding one, I was needing just a little fun and may have missed reading the sign that would be heeding the speed in which I should have gone, so there, I said that I was wrong now here's some cash to pay this con, I had to pawn some things of mine to pay this fine and I don't mean to cross a line or hold things up while I whine but since you think you're so devine, and I don't even really mind paying all the powers that be, that tower over at the DMV but it really tends to sour me when I've been waiting for how many hours? 3!!!"
I linger at my laptop day and night.
Not making a fiction to shift a slight.
My ink was poised on the tips of my knuckles.
There isn't a veil of aims waffle puzzles.
Sonnet forming is an arduous endeavor task.
It should be tame as faces veiled with a mask.
But then, it may truly stay as excessive.
Alternatively, should rhyme it with pensive.
In point of fact, I'd say it's relatively precise.
Sonnet forming is a complex endeavor to entice.
It is prompted you to describe it with your eye.
But all I can rake stand a specific region of the sky.
A mouth heaped with fiction and sophistry.
Vacant storage space of bounty.
A storeroom that has been overcome by mice.
"Goodness!"My mind is deploring in an obscene vice.
Crafting a poem presents a daunting challenge.
Dazed, I flung my pen down expunge
It was simply too much for me to handle.
I sincerely obtained sight of the paper bundle.
I had seen my sadness jotted in dim crafting.
Moreover, I transformed it into a concert showing.
Artists are bound to name it a stanza or verse.
I took a gander at the page with unity and curse.
I'm grasping my worksheets in my hand.
Despite the way that my verse was bland.
I included an explanation that my poems were bad.
Unlike squashed stone, Lyric composing is hard.
Written: November 20, 2021
On a park bench, the codger waits
left to ponder why he must hate
this man he loves whose gone astray
in the park, his young son once played
vacillating, he deflates
His gay son, he thought in dire straits
heavily, his worrying weights
from balderdash of youth today
On a park bench
The codger once loved to elate
or tell a joke of his create
but now the amusing displays
usurped by his deploring ways
fear not hate left to devastate
On a park bench
Rhonda Johnson-Saunders
Seventh place in For Love of Language contest (Debbie Guzzi)
This vain wish to live longer, somewhere,
makes me struggle with my vulnerability
of having been born with the fear of dying...
and before that is accomplished: let me live!
I've been told, " It's not possible that time can freeze youth indefinitely,"
but that intricate illusion was too persistent and real;
this boy always believed it would have never faded...
now being sorrowful and old, I realize how untrue and contrived it was!
Be convivial and consume your time wisely,
don't hold the conviction that over-the-hill is the end;
you've gathered all the knowledge to survive another year,
and on your calendar mark every birthday and celebrate...
I will do the same believing that I'd continue walking in eternity
as when youth froze time to contradict an undeserved fate
without connoting wrong, but being congrous and fair...
oh, youth your concession has compensated me for that loss!
I should be miserable as anybody else...lamenting and lashing,
but what good it would do if not harm me and shorten these days?
I enjoy every moment that life gives me...being hopeful for more to come;
others cuss, slander and end life demolishing all they had built in their past!
I denote my achievements as milestones that everyone will remember,
and certainly I'll be sought after for the secrets my words will unfold;
and their purpose and extent are very conceivable to the scholar and reader...
not deploring the naive idea that time can freeze youth indefinitely.
Shame.
The dwarf told me.
Deploring myself in your tears.
Kissing your brightness in your eyes.
As i tried to hug you before you disappear again.
An undeniable love so beautiful and inspired,you wrote to me.
Trusting your tiny heart-shaped box,keep it safe, away from the dwarf.
Immaterializing in front of your purity,waiting for the moonlight.
Reborn.
Uncompromised.
Shame.The dwarf told me.
I wasn't there.
Covid-19, do you run
on some evil foot
out of sight,
beneath the light
till your Napoleonic march
brings you to rout?
Or out of habit
Do you lust for old flesh
due to a generation gap?
Alien footsteps on our life intrudes
I hear cacophony of voices
counsel you to retreat
If you like our fireside
then consider the option
of a cease-fire.
In our sun-touched garden
your breeze of death
solidifies our pillars
of faith.
Across the wide swath
mother earth's bleeding
deploring your running stream.
Radiant glows our faith
against your lava
pouring in the hillside.
Fabled ways of flames and fire
we're more used to than
your cold killer façade.
Your rapid-fire genocide
is candidate for a new
Nuremberg trial.
Examples That Are Shining
Contributed and motivated
by Word Warrior as usual.
While each word was beating up and walloping
God came into my life and had been galloping
Said before each of my poems He would trample
Should be using Poetry Soup as a perfect example.
God's words against I never should be warring
And always resisting and continually deploring
His courage and bravery is sure to wait for you
Even when writing many poems of just a few.
God's knowledge into should constantly delve
Amount of poetry books became complete shelve
Out of all this what was the most extraordinary
All of them weighed so much and could not carry.
Then after all of my poetry writing had ended
On them, many poets at Soup still depended
And instead of complaining and always whining
See poems as examples that love to be shining.
(PS. Wheel chairs go best when declining.)
James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
Apologize to God
And make your atonement
Be ashamed
And contrite
Be so deeply sorry
Bewailing your discretion
Feeling all the remorse
In deploring your sins
Relent these acts
And reproach yourself
Seeing the error of your ways
So filled with sorrow
Have many qualms
As you lament these deeds
Feel every regret
And begin to reform
Turning, turning, burning, burning
in a Pharoah's dance
marking the rising, rising
of the Nile's advance.
Great Khan's mandating, mandating
heaven's acceptance.
Shamans and priests ritualizing, proselytizing
for imagined power's embrace.
Poets and musicians futilely divining
partial patterns from a trance.
Scientists and quacks hypothesizing
from an always limited sense.
Officious leaders ignoring, deploring
reliable evidence.
All of us hoping, wishing,agitating
for revealed intelligence,
thinking, believing, always conceiving
humanity's importance
in a world revolving, evolving
without a backward glance,
within a cosmos expanding, expanding
way beyond our insignificance.
Schlerotic schlemiel schleps...
Into lonely senescence -
three plus decades already elapsed
trepidation, hesitation unbearably
tugging, shouldering,
remonstrating accumulation
of "baggage" thumb
of right hand thrust out
silently raving, quaking
cursing ultimatum parents
(soffit to fascia in)
saw fit to fashion
and hammer home
red hot poker rage
their singular male offspring
middle child of two sisters,
who long since vacated premises
when both young naifs
prior to attaining age of consent
deploring bing holed up
at 324 Level Road redoubt
built as summer house
remote from fracas of urban bedlam
still fifty years since Leipers
bon voyage into netherland
father and mother
imposed swiftly tailored
harried styled tough love
translated meant absolute zero value
toward offspring they begot,
and made quite clear loathing
heaped upon sundered fountainhead
good for nothing son of a...,
he whittled away precious time
reading avast among trove of material
crowdsourcing numerous bookshelves
mostly to impress intellectual visitors,
when in truth middle aged couple
thinly veiled country bumpkins,
donned with "FAKE" literacy
stereotypical "rednecks,"
inexplicably begot wunderkind
agog with inhaling literature
in tandem with liberal
magazines and newspapers
oft times whiled away countless hours
sunup to sundown
sequestered most remote nook
within local library
few miles walk along country road
served as self taught schooling
since parochial educated regimen
habitually rapped knuckles
courtesy whiplike hickory stick
if pupil evinced slightest
distraction, whence schoolmaster
detected lack of attention
as crotchety curmudgeon
blankly droned monotonously
dull jabbering subjected
stone faced classmates
into instant soporific state
futilely struggling to keep eyelids
slamming shut tight
including yours truly,
who when suddenly awake
realized quite a vivid dream!
Febrile Fog obfuscates palimpsest varnished promises..
Naysayers hoodwinked... deluded players peeling layers..denuded..
Deafening din of our chagrin...
Espoused by rabbles roused by mandarins’ sins..
Tarnished...pampered pilferers pickpocketing public purses...
Deploring the warring cacophony of citizens curses..
Ignoring the boring nagging nadir of nurses...
Corporate castles built without stilts on hourglass sands..
Placards versus lanyards..
Culprits preach parsimony from privileged pulpits..
Civic critics.. protests...pyrrhric..?
No tut tuts..relax…gluts of tax cuts for property sluts..
Licentious larcenists..lust for boom then bust..
Lavishly lacing our lives with lies..
Yet the more we holler...hanker..
Murky truths get darker...muckier.. starker..danker..
Avaricious arsonists torching our cries of why...
Leave us lolloping in a regret & forget.. leaking latrine...
Reeking of what could & should have been..