Best Deviates Poems
Appreciation:
A big thank you Silent One for your splendid narration of this poem.
THE GANGSTER
Through foreboding, whispering, wintery air
A woken Heron shrilly shrieks somewhere
Reflective iridescent gem in a gloomy stream
The gangster with a poetic heart dares to dream
A living testimony to deviates and lost souls.
Where seedy worth defines unsavoury roles.
Perceiving her as a quintessence work of art
Fantasising a new start could transform his path
But his formidable foe of unbeatable might
Silently rejects him from her soulless sight
Scheming secrets spill, in the ruthless thrill,
While Angels weep for innocents who sleep
Nearer to his mark, prey to her game
Shame, oh shame! Like a moth to the flame.
Though only murder glows in her beauteous glance
The man gambles chance at a shot at romance
The bar reeks of treachery and strife
Trust is sporadic in a gangster’s life
Romantic interchange in hidden codes
Not charmed by romance, a single shot explodes
In this world of corrupt nights, where the energy dips
Between Jack Daniels sips, those sensuous red lips
The Reaper is the dealer; Destiny seals
Every gangster bends to the very last deal
An Art film
Art films often "bear the marks of a distinctive visual style" and the authorial approach of the director. An art cinema film often refuses to provide a "readily answered conclusion", instead putting to the cinema viewer the task of thinking about "how is the story being told?
Maria Williams©2024
I’m cursed since I have a specialty that I can see,
X-ray vision is my power.
People often say one thing while doing another,
Preaching from their ivory tower.
“Man up!” we obeyed every command of our big English teacher,
The biggest introvert.
And he’d wear a bright red bra, invisible to all but me,
Under his blue striped business shirt.
“Live exactly by the bible in our great country”
Our priest would drill into us every Sunday.
And I could see his beautiful knickers he wore under his pants,
We all knew he was secretly gay.
And the local news anchor man loved to wear
His red garter belt beneath his black suit top.
I think it was the same brand my barber wore
When I got my hair cut at the local barber shop.
We all trust our local paramedic, saving our lives
When we are most in need of his care.
I can see he loves us dearly, loves to feel comfortable too,
With the silk stockings he chooses to wear.
And when we prosecute the deviates, whores, and filth
We entrust our judges in our courts.
Our local judge loves to prosecute wearing, beneath his gown,
Hot pink singlets and hot pink shorts.
And during his speeches, to our elected few,
About gays not marrying during his political reign.
He wears his G-string made of metal sequence,
The leader of our country looks sexy in chain.
I’m cursed since I have a special power I dare not tell anyone,
I have the power of x-ray vision.
It’s easy to see which men who say “don’t”, secretly “do”,
And which men need circumcision.
We read the stories every day,
A child snatched by a stranger.
He’s taken from his loving home
Where there should be no danger.
The devastated parents beg
For him to be returned.
Heartless abductors do not care.
Their frantic pleas are spurned.
He has been loved and nourished
For the whole of his short days.
Far from loving arms that held him
With his innocence he pays.
A lucky few are found alive
But are forever changed.
His future has been colored
By the demonic or deranged.
If or when these deviates are caught,
They should not be freed again,
They should live their lifetime in a cage
And feel their victim’s pain.
Sociocultural
Evolution
- by Bob Atkinson
here in the here and
now
well beyond that
date in time
beyond beginnings so
far back
as to look like
stones defined
by their
stratification
layers of that dust
of life
which settles into a
black void
and shoves us out of
life
here with a fond
reflection
we see what we've
become
our narrow minded
creases
of satisfied results
but satisfaction
deviates
from norms we can
arrange
to send our children
to the future
an establishment
pre-arranged
take a minute to
evolve
into something more
advanced
don't see your
brother as the enemy
to be pierced
through with your
lance
TRUE SELF
Then silence strikes and the urge to sequence words pushes harder
Pushing me harder to plate out my thoughts for the world to immerse into the original art that I bring before their eyes
I am none other than a true copy of my being
I am proud to present myself with actual uniqueness to the world out there
Uniqueness that unveils my talents.
I am none other than a true descendant of true Africans... Writing skills imparted on me by my ancestors
I present True aspects that urge the enemy to lure in vanity... lure in vanity for their wish for my fall shall never prosper...
Quantity, quality... is there any piece of art to describe the value of life contained in your body... when is it a lot? When is it little?
I separate the body and life for life never ends...it’s the body that ends
Life never ends…it just resides in places where no human eye can see.
Truthfulness to oneself, a quality that lacks in masses but never deviates ...it never deviates in value for you shall never go wrong in being true to yourself… trust in oneself.
My dexterity...my guide to humble beginnings, proceedings and endings
I am none other than a true descendant of exquisite minds...my ancestors
I write not in other form but in spirit...for the spirit know it all.
I write in higher state of mind for these are not my words...I am just a messenger for the departed…those in the land of peace…watching over us
Playing with words is my favourite game...for it gives me a sense of wholeness. It completes me I love me
I come in different forms for great spirits reside in me.
Never feel amazed when you see me sparkling more than the other days for I am diverse.
(Adventures In Geriatric Land)
Does your dentist have money for Porsche that you’ve lost?
Is the hair on your head now the color of frost?
Is the zip in your life only internet speed?
Do your savings accounts all too easily bleed?
Does your bladder evacuate slower than sound?
Do your friends all speak louder when you are around?
Is night driving more difficult due to the glare,
Do night road signs all seem that they’re needing repair?
Are closed captions de rigueur while watching TV,
Spicy foods mean you’re somewhere you don’t want to be?
Do you now find you look at each phone number twice,
Does it seem you’re less trusting of stranger's advice?
Does high fashion place second to comfort these days,
Shoes that tie seem they must be a teenager’s craze?
Does your body seem more like the shape of a pear,
Are there times you’re not sure if your feet are still there?
Does your nose know what septum that deviates means?
Do you find that you’re now not so jealous of teens?
Does your back really hurt at times, knees always ache?
Do you sometimes feel drowsy when life needs awake?
And do taxes now fill your whole body with dread
Are there days that you feel like you envy the dead?
Can you look at your life and still think it well spent?
Does it seem now that multitudes live in your tent?
Well if all this is true and you still greet the day,
If you don’t let the little things get in your way,
If you’ve learned to accept and you don’t fear the end
Then rejoice in arrival of mensch-hood my friend.
Brian Johnston
January 22, 2016
To relax your soul
Systematic systematic
Towards the road ahead
Rhythmatic Rhythmatic
Harmonious crazy
Crazy
Harmonious crazy
Crazy
She filters the ground
Pulsates pulsates
The combined realms
Deviates deviates
Harmonious crazy
Crazy
Harmonious crazy
Crazy
Without a word she vomits
Congruous congruous
Tips her hat over
Sumptuous sumptuous
Harmonious crazy
Crazy
Harmonious crazy
Crazy
The fellowship of tires
Righteous righteous
Times alleviated system
Harmonious harmonious
Harmonious Crazy
Crazy
Harmonious Crazy
Crazy
To be without a standing
Lost upon a riotous landing
This world has gone crazy
Harmonious crazy!
Russell Sivey
We're together in this, the fault is ours
withhold the explanation
we'll share the blame.
"Not in this life! my take is already on the billboard"
Now is the time to stick together
holding each other, sharing one umbrella
until this trying moment is over.
"No way! I'm definitely leaving the squad".
On the first sight of danger
and an unpleasant situation of horror.
'Forgive me! but I'm stepping backwards"
Persistence pays
refined is the product coming through thick and thin
be a risk taker and have guts.
"Please, I don't need the award".
Now is the time let's seize the moment
a fool is the person who kicks opportunities away.
"You go ahead, I'll do that afterwards"
It's all about sacrifices
subject yourself to undue limitations
for the benefit of your next generation.
"hell No! I'm definitely going overboard"
The battle may seem bigger
but you're more than capable
examine the challenge, but focus on your strength.
"Thank you! But I'm dropping my sword"
Be unique, be different
don't follow the crowd
be a trail blazer and a pace setter.
"So that I stand odd?"
On the road to glory and a monster appears
despite the capability to overcome
he deviates from going goalwards.
His achievements make neighbours bored
his fury towards strain makes him seem awkward
and his strong will becoming flatter than an Apple Keyboard
What a being! His excellency, Mr. Coward.
The art displayed by nature is a gift-
sometimes not noticed in a passing glance.
To pause, look, and admire creates a shift
as we observe this artwork- not by chance.
Yes, nature paints with its creative tools,
those grand designs on species of the wild.
It never deviates from patterned rules-
like how a Zebra's fancy coat is styled.
Amazing how those stripes, concentered-placed
around the neck extend into its mane.
The inkblot images continue, traced;
the balance of true symmetry, sustain.
The diamond shape of stripes upon its face
and those that meet precisely, strait or flared,
reveal that God steers nature's brush with grace;
how else could such perfection be declared?
December 4, 2021
Contest: You Select Again
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Written on the:
(Biblical Calendar) 14th Day of the 7th Month, 5775
(Gregorian Calendar) 27th of September, 2015
The archway with candles lit around it
Illuminating it's hollow beyond the mass grave
Of fallen bodies of men, women and children
Who lie peacefully in prominence.
A widow sheds a tear,
Dressed in black
With a veil shadowing her face,
She weeps until her eyes bleed
And until the ground is soaked with her sorrows.
Dusk settles
The sun deviates it's reflection from the bodies of the fallen,
And once again the darkness reigns for twelve hours
Where evil revels it's deceitful intervention.
The moon is arrayed in it's light
But the dust and smoke of buildings bombed
And houses torched, engulfs the beauty of it's resurrection,
With the smell and taste of somberness and melancholy
Stained with the absence of death and vile.
Forgive me but I just don't understand
What drives “people” to enter a school
Massacre forty young people
And burn their female teacher alive
It's beyond my comprehension
How an intelligent caring human being
Can willingly commit this atrocity
There lies the crux of the matter
They are NOT “intelligent caring human beings”
They are EVIL MONSTERS... period!
They don't belong to the HUMAN race!
They are freaks of nature
An anomaly... deviates from normal human behavior
Who have a totally warped sense of right and wrong
The lunatic fringe... THAT MUST BE STOPPED
At all costs... this cannot continue
This is NOT a normal human condition
Civilized people can fathom the depth
That these sub-humans will go to
As with the absolute majority of peace loving individuals
I am appauled beyond belief
I would like to say I'm speechless
Which is obviously not the case... this site is a forum
To express our absolute and utter rage
When these deviants commit these atrocities
IT'S A TOTALLY DISGUSTING OUTRAGE!!!
(a previous post)
I see a Santa Fe upon its rail;
It deviates not to the left nor right,
Nor hills, nor miles, nor weather can prevail
Upon its constant task come day or night.
I see a Christian running the long race
Who never shirks the hard work to be done,
In spite of tribulations she must face,
Blesséd is she to glorify God’s Son.
I see a faithful mother, wife, and daughter
Who brings to mind these Scriptures I now read:
“Go in my name and give cold cups of water,
Extending to the needy a kind deed.”
For one whose deeds upon good deeds get blurred
I think that ‘saint’ is not too high a word.
[In the U.S, 'Santa Fe' is a well-known railway. The words translate to 'holy faith']
Written in 2016
TRUE SELF
Then silence strikes and the urge to sequence words pushes harder
Pushing me harder to plate out my thoughts for the world to immerse into the original art that I bring before their eyes
I am none other than a true copy of my being
I am proud to present myself with actual uniqueness to the world out there
Uniqueness that unveils my talents.
I am none other than a true descendant of true Africans... Writing skills imparted on me by my ancestors
I present True aspects that urge the enemy to lure in vanity... lure in vanity for their wish for my fall shall never prosper...
Quantity, quality... is there any piece of art to describe the value of life contained in your body... when is it a lot? When is it little?
I separate the body and life for life never ends...it’s the body that ends
Life never ends…it just resides in places where no human eye can see.
Truthfulness to oneself, a quality that lacks in masses but never deviates ...it never deviates in value for you shall never go wrong in being true to yourself… trust in oneself.
My dexterity...my guide to humble beginnings, proceedings and endings
I am none other than a true descendant of exquisite minds...my ancestors
I write not in other form but in spirit...for the spirit know it all.
I write in higher state of mind for these are not my words...I am just a messenger for the departed…those in the land of peace…watching over us
Playing with words is my favourite game...for it gives me a sense of wholeness. It completes me I love me
I come in different forms for great spirits reside in me.
Never feel amazed when you see me sparkling more than the other days for I am diverse.
Clock is
always working.
It lives every moment.
Doesn't waste even a second.
Live each second like clock,
enjoying each
moment.
Clock is
thoughtless and calm.
Mind at the task in front.
While at work emulate the clock.
Employ all sense organs,
enjoy moment
in hand
Clock is
detached, serene.
It keeps ticking non-stop.
Nothing deviates it's focus.
It teaches we can be
perfect if we're
steadfast
If we
do all our jobs
full day like a clock, then
we will have perfectly blissful
life, full of joy and peace.
Living, not just
alive!
25.05.2021
Note : Heptastich is a poetic form with syllable count of 2,4,6,8,6,4,2
Syllable count checked at PS syllables counter
Submitted to
Contest Name : Time
Sponsor : Chantelle Anne Cooke
Premier contest winner 6th position
Resubmitted to
Constance La France
''T'' Contest, New or
The soul reaps its rewards
as it is compromised
as tomorrow never dies.
A faded glory...
Souls linger on, in either heaven
nor Hell only Purgatory.
Futures are left undone, never won
histories are full of things never known
as tomorrow flies.
The reapers machine needs its price
paid in flesh and bone as tomorrow never dies.
I see you tomorrow n the past of yesterday’s
future furies and funerary rights.
Nothing ever leaves it relocates and deviates.
Matter, is not destroyed it only breaks on through
to the other side, as days go n nights come...
the hands of the clock never slow.
Eternity spent frozen in the light of infinity
in thoughts faster than night,
as tomorrows never die,
they only come and go n fade slowly away.
…and only the stain of history marks
the passing storms as tomorrow may never fly!
But, only fade slowly away...
...each and every day…
...as Tomorrow May Never Die