Best Despair Poems
dust-wearing-wind carries a feeble cry in its palm,
settles it near ears that can no longer hear.
Cries arise from hollows of your hungry face,
a pulpit of high cheeks bones— in sharp relief
to sunken skin-scape sallow and paper thin—
a preacher on the harrows of hunger.
Vulture keeps a still, silent vigil,
a patient witness to your starvation,
comrade and adversary
in a fight for your last breath and beat.
Your loyal companion, a symbol of death
where drones rain with flames on tents of refugees
and sky splitting missiles make shrapnel of the sun,
where dragon fire artillery shoots the moon
and shreds stars till they fate-fall
like the last nightjars from nocturne skies.
Dear child of war,
alone with nothing in your belly but a stone,
rib bones a famine cage,
thoracic fingers squeeze your soul.
Your heart a hostage,
flutters like a lost moth against your sternum.
I long to hold you and feed you
honey made from a million wild flowers
uncrushed beneath metal plates of tank treads.
I yearn to bathe you of collapsed concrete dust
cleanse you of your mother’s blood, her
rattle-boned, battle-owned, maternal body wrapped
over yours as they fed her Kalashnikov lead.
My faraway ache for your plight pales
against your tiny body’s black-rose-throes,
a pawn to thorns of soldiers
grown on rocket-torn-boot-worn streets.
War-zone fig trees bear no fruit,
hibiscus buds die as hornets knit nests into shrubs,
tomorrow but a diseased wheat field laid to waste.
Dear child of war,
deliverance will come when pall-bearer winds
carry your cries elsewhere…
When life becomes confusing,
my only saviour is my
simple musing.
Twilight shimmers in orange,
red clouds float above,
preparing for blood rain.
Lost to ponder,
I contemplate and wonder
why the symphonic sky
showcases shadows of ghosts
as a
susurration of sighs,
reflect sands of time,
like an unbalanced hourglass.
As words lose
innocent connotations
I find no use for speech.
I drift into my
silent reverie -
but release through poetry.
Wild fires no longer rage,
rain perishes like a drought,
but the smell of ash remains
who knows what winds may come and go
and what they will bring and take.
Motionless mind agrees to a ceasefire,
with my apprehensive heart.
Cumulonimbus clouds clear,
sky is like a fresh sapphire page.
Simple sun shines - scintillating,
illuminating an enchanting rainbow.
Horizons reflect like stained glass windows.
Path clears before me,
as I bask in the brisk breeze.
Refreshing wise winds soothe,
as zephyrs heal tender wounds.
I see smoky mountains up ahead,
but I believe I can conquer them
as pain is no longer my companion.
How proud they put them on display
Two thousand of the first of fortyk
There President Bukele did say
They’ll live in the jailhouse for decades
he went on boasting, in jail it’s judgement day,
as he held his glass of brandy toasting
inmates, suspected violent gang members
moved to a new mega-prison in El Salvador
Transferred to the Center of Confinement of Terrorism
Mixed up, unable to do any more harm
to the population, it was said
So why do I care about these souls,
tears flowed as I read the article
about thousands of prisoners, and Bukele in particular
Central American country’s notorious pandillas
And right then I understood why I cried
Hundreds never made it to round two, que pesadillas
There are the innocent ones who are denied
a fair trial, it's sad to think that nothing can be done
for a mother's innocent son
The heart pulsates with times I remember
So pained to my soul you have become
My eyes see cold ashes without ember
As tomorrow fades from view, I succumb
Buried lonely inside, where silent tears flow
Love seems fleeting, carried by a sad wind
While it glides beyond farthest reach I know
And claims the untraveled distance within
As nights begin to merge like flowing rain
To pelt the fogged window of my glass heart
I'll melt into the darkness balled in pain
Then rip out the reasons where footprints start
They'll be no yesterday's in a black sky
Only bright stars retreating as I cry
Frederic Parker
9/25/14
Dawn's rays burst through gray clouds
Though evening's bitterness lingers
She struggles to shake free of tear-stained, satin shrouds
Each morning, so much effort just to rise
But lips part to flash a much-needed smile
When she opens the door and ventures outside
A sparrow had nested in her hanging flowers
High-pitch chirps alert the world life has renewed
And gladly does she acknowledge nature's powers
A wee, brown owl is perched upon the sprawling oak
He's forgotten to take refuge as the night receded
Then a tiny tree frog begins his pond-side croak
She sees his motley, textured body and begins to laugh
For nature's creatures have learned to live carefree
As he does daily, the frog hops to board a lily-pad raft
The tension has eased as nature's chorus serenades
Such joy and harmony their songs evoke
She saunters through the woodland, joins their parade
Her heart is now light; she has mastered their technique
Overcome with gratitude, she skips along the path
Knowing that wallowing in sadness is never unique
For the blues will strike again as night covers the land
And she will face her personal demons once again
But for now she revels in these gifts from nature's hand
And to find relief the next morn, she will simply open a door
Step into the refreshing flow of a passing breeze
And find her way to happiness once more
For Farah Chamma's "My Favorite Things" challenge.
I despair at writing poetry
I'm not sure I have the skill
Just can't seem to find the words
Or bend them to my will
It's hard to sum up what I mean
And make it sound succinct
So as a poet should I stop
And quietly go extinct?
Should I lay my pen to rest
And let it gather dust?
But something seems to urge me on
To write is now a must!
So putting pen to paper
I'll scribble just for fun
And maybe one day very soon
A poet I'll become!
How I am torn from even thinking we could be more
What reason do I have to change what we already are?
I make an effort to stop myself from overwhelming you,
And the next moment, you are all over me,
As I, confused, welcome your playful caresses…
And when I offer my own touch,
You quickly, shyly decline,
With a silence in between telling me you want otherwise
I can see it in your eyes…
In this trembling tension, I long to melt with you,
Offering you a deeper place within me,
You inch closer to me with doubt and fear,
And I wonder when the barriers will burst
My thoughts drifting into the glistening doubt of turning tides
In our jokes and laughter,
The love that is evident within us is coated away,
Tucked within each chuckle, pushing me away…
The part of me I long for you to see…
For once, I want to hold you, yes… possessively
Knowing it is not a trivial joke that brought us together
Though here we have not even established mutual affection
As it is evident in your complexion…
I refuse to believe this is all in my head…
It is not by chance that we inch closer to one another
In that shy, shameful hesitance
My love has no shame
It only waits….
You must let go of your uncertainties
But please… do not let me go again…
Do not reject what is rightfully yours…
For it kills me….love, it kills me….
My heart sighs every moment I see the love in your eyes
I curse the laughter that we once have cherished
For now it is merely a tool to mask the shame of our love
I know my words would easily fall into your heart to reassure you,
If only you would let open that door, I would show you….
I would hold you…kiss you, and know you…
Triangles of half-open doors
Reveal all the truth that is hidden:
Just condoms and cans on the floor,
Black papers with verses, forbidden -
Unfinished remakes of the song,
Deprived of the right to speak loud
Of wicked intentions gone wrong -
Erasers have muffled the shout.
The only illusion-proof mind -
A poet, the voice of despair,
Sincere, the one of this kind
Throws verses far into the air
Right there, in a dirty old flat
Among once great talents, now rotten.
They all have deserved more than that,
But even their names are forgotten.
I sit, my back against the black.
My thoughts a jumbled supplejack,
a wanna-be amnesiac.
Oh, autumn leaves a fluster,
the winds in tipsy bluster.
I’m weightless as I drift away
on whiskey wings, a moth astray.
My grief in ashtray where I pray.
The equinox is tilted,
my wispy body wilted
and in my stupor do I dream?
Are clouds I seek a false redeem
as sunrise bleeds through jagged seam?
Damn seraphim and serpents
and fantasy disturbance!
I keep my secrets like a sphinx,
my insight an elusive lynx
…a widow with a hard drink jinx.
Yet soul, a black-eyed-Susan,
still blooms in bruised seclusion.
Dawn’s dapple-gold flint-glints like stones.
As hard on eyes as nightmare crones
who rattled empty bottle bones. .
As half-light scries the mirror,
my pulse does bring me nearer
to burning on the altar of the sun,
my moonshine valentine…
No– shadows do not love
the angles of your face.
Reflection in a cage;
the mirror— enemy
in atmosphere of age,
no.. shadows do not love
the smoother skin of youth.
Your worries; furrow wears,
a trench where troops retreat,
—accumulated years.
No! shadows do not love
mascara and soft light;
distracts from sense of time
and wishes drowned in wells…
damn clock’s incessant chime—
no, shadows do not love
the wrinkles and the lines.
They etch your map their ink;
topography of life
where sun o’er valleys sink.
I am the mind disturbed that thinks it’s well
euphoria surfs, dysphoric swells
perfect storm before the cresting wave
felled the confidence of the brave
I am the liar that catfished hope
Stole from a random heart that couldn’t cope
Love leaps, faith jumps, joy follows
Suicide upon the maddened rocks below
I am all the tears that fell
Abide in the hidden depths of sorrows well
I am the fire that burns up all your dreams
Dying light of fallen stars and moonbeams
Existence
World is a drama stage,
which has a dwimmer screen,
that can trap you with a
net of desires.
Several stories, diverse roles,
pretending folks, everything is fake!
So why do you shed tears
for these ungrateful peeps?
Love is a phantasm,
which starts with a thirst
and ends up in a despair!
Life turns out a desert,
if you are not alert.
Do you want to put an effort,
or slog fruitlessly and revert?
From The Saddest Depths Of Bitter Despair
Within this heart love born
once beloved now scorn
fills each little crevice
life seems out of service
bitter cold turns the wind
dark sets its pains to send
Alas! Loneliness reaps
broken shards into heaps
while moonlight will not shine
on these blues I now dine
and the aches seem endless
here, I am now friendless
dark on this soul assails
nobody hears my wails
In this chasm I soft weep
So, so cold, dark and deep
Within this heart love born.
Once beloved, now scorn.
R.J. Lindley,
Dark rhyme
( From, In for a penny, in for a pound )
A bee drags through glass—
soundless, just the pane
tearing, like a caul.
Belief becomes the thorn.
I asked Him once. He turned His back.
The leaves fell —
Darkness And Despair
By: Neva Romaine
I surrounded myself with all manner of things
That brings in a semblance of cheer
The lights are bright, the noises are loud
No time to think or fear
But then time passed by-all distractions have gone
Nothing further to fill empty space
Dreaded darkness again...and I am alone
Am I doomed to this forlorn place?
Making every day, my last.
Cutting new demons into the claim of life
Missing, the light in each moment I breathe
Thinking of the things I miss - before I sleep
Finally, I find myself hitting rock bottom
Fading into hopelessness, frighten by joy
Alone, with vibes that hold not spark
Trying to reach for the light, from despair
--A Poet Destroyer Collaboration--
7/31/2015
Submitted for: One From The Dark Side Poetry Contest
Sponsored By: John Lawless
September 26, 2022