Best Deviation Poems
If I wasn't there,
the rain swollen clouds
would have still dumped
their dark weight over the bay
and through a gaping tear,
let down a curtain of sunlight
to start the day.
And if I wasn't there,
the old, arthritic labrador
would have still waddled
along the street
with its bent but steady gait,
undistracted, self absorbed
and fixed in its own stare
that allowed no deviation
from years of devoted plod.
The morning had no need
for me, what happened
would have happened anyway.
There's an annoying sadness
in knowing the earth
doesn't seem to care
if things pass unnoticed.
Sunsets and waterfalls
carry no favor.
To it, the achingly beautiful
and the catastrophic can
happily go unreported.
And yet I still ask -
what's the point -
and entertain the notion
that the universe has this
innate and unfathomable need
for a witness
to take in Creations
unfolding riddle
and make it fit together.
I could be wrong,
but for each of us,
the privilege of being here
on this gifted earth,
to understand, care for
and tell its story in song
fulfills a purpose,
if only to this end -
or something more.
Categories:
deviation, care, creation, dog, earth,
Form:
Free verse
A time of change awaits you, friend.
It crouches on your track.
It peeps its head round yonder bend
and knows you can’t go back.
And being time, itself it bides,
(albeit a time of change).
You cannot know how well it hides
and still be in your range!
Your path might be a jolly jaunt
when suddenly appears
that deviation there to daunt
you in the coming years.
A monster ever stalking you. . .
then one day it may pale,
and thankfully you start anew
upon another trail.
Or maybe you’ve gone traipsing down
a road of misery,
and wishing only you could drown,
you stand beside a sea.
But look! What beckons you away?
A time of change, (no beast)
has handed you a bright new day
and hopelessness has ceased!
for Giorgio's Impress Me IV Contest
Motif: Philosophical
Categories:
deviation, change,
Form:
Rhyme
A future world rule by Trillionaires and Billionaires
Each country with segments of puppet regime governments,
With exceptions of course,
The drug lords the cartel those with the power
And the glory to hold what they consider theirs,
They will be the enemy, and will be a constant
Thorn in the side of the establishment.
A world where every citizen registered
At birth and death, as always, the way,
Now a blink in the cell of a hand device,
Where to veer off, constitutes a written warning
Threatening one’s employment a system
Of points and reviews. Twenty years of age,
One is introduced to a multitude of choice,
Law enforcement, United Nations, battle hard platoon,
Ablutions cleaners, Spies and Reapers, alas,
Those over educated with self-righteousness
Seen as a threat, with re-education, to aid
Choose the right path. The system will know
And will have its way, even woke, on a long chain
Will have its day, when only one-sided opinions
Are set in law, therefore, easy to dictate the terms
Of one’s life. Yet if to conform, there will be no
Slippery slopes, humans, like colonies of ants, their purpose
Granted from the throne of insatiable grandeur,
Childhood once a foundation, where one found happiness,
Education now the way to the day of recognition.
If by chance, to live with one’s flexible opinions,
Those that somehow bypass, the system, will become
The hunted until ridiculed, outlawed, then to wither
As autumn leaves, windblown proud foliage will decay,
When minds forced to cast out truthful innuendoes,
Those, embedded in hearts and minds of fallible man, his ideal’s
Firmly fixed, of earthly struggles. Once weaken,
A blend within the unwelcoming stigma of standard deviation,
Those making policy from man’s inconsequential plight,
To decompose, the humus of society to clutter the gutter,
Until the arrival of the Street Cleaners!
© Harry J Horsman 2023
Categories:
deviation, social, society,
Form:
Free verse
Cutting, callous, cold
Cruelly, so cruelly you stand there laughing at me
You tell me I’m useless
Your words cut through me like a blade
p
i
e
r
c
i
n
g
my fragile heart
Again and again you repeat those vitriolic words
Cutting my very being into a m i l l i o n p i e c e s
My tears drip like vermilion blood
oozing from the gaping void that once occupied my chest
I stand before you
Stripped of my dignity
Helpless, bruised and battered
I cannot believe what was once love has turned to hate
Poet's notes
I had seldom written anything other than rhyme so this was a real deviation to venture into the dark side of my muse with a creative free verse.
n/a in contest sponsored By Nina
26th February 2015
Categories:
deviation, betrayal,
Form:
Free verse
Have you seen changing of colours?
World shifting thoughts without insight
Mellifluous tones making way for cacophony
Drums buried beneath shambles,
And people returning to the jungle,
Craving roots and leaves
As life becomes spooky affair
The world changing patterns,
As beauty becomes an obstacle
Have you witnessed the unforeseeable?
Mountains becoming smaller
Flower refusing to bloom
Nature giving up its mandate,
Moving away from positivity
Negativity embracing every creature
Inducing evil forces to celebrate with pride,
As the world falls apart
Hope assuming new meaning,
As happiness sink underground
That's how the world has changed
Love making way for hostility
Ignorance taking center stage
People searching through garbage
To find reasons for immorality
Taking journeys to the wilderness
Coming back with more grounds for deviation
Goodness plummeting deeper
As the world changes faces
Categories:
deviation, imagery, introspection, philosophy,
Form:
Imagism
FLOWER POWER
He broke the rule, shattered it,
left the pieces for all to see.
The hill rolling, tree climbing,
butterfly chasing, game of tag
was over and the race for the
water fountain was on.
He ran with his flock,
suddenly breaking sharply
to the left, slowing to a
two knee landing.
He bent low, rolled onto
his side, did a little snake
dance, then lay motionless.
After several minutes he rose,
corrected his circuitous cycle,
and rejoined the thirsty flock.
Intrigued, I investigated the
cause/effect relationship
of his deviation - A lone dandelion.
It had drawn him in,
he had studied it, touched it,
smelled it, tasted it, spent a
few moments getting to know it.
He remained unfamiliar with the rule
but had gained a familiarity with
the dandelion.
Perhaps he was on to something.
Submitted to Encounters with Flowers – Poetry Contest
Sponsor – Anthony Slausen
11/22/2014
Categories:
deviation, children, environment, nature,
Form:
Free verse
Close your eyes and use your
imigination
What if the world showed an
indication
that jesus was really satan
Itd be the biggest revelation
But what would happen to
civilization
Would christianty become a
revocation
From the The bible we start an
emancipation
This rap is a mass dialation
Under my narration
Do you need a translation for
all of this information
Heres one simple explination
Open your eyes and see this
damnation
Here ill put it in an easy
equation
it might take a bit of calculation
Of this summation me + you =
decapitation
Oh I forgot to carry the
castration
Heres another deviation of this
story
Told through the constillations
If you truely look youll see the
beautiful illustrations
"THC inhaliation
With no limitation
I have endless medication
"I stay as high as my
aspirations"
Thats my own quotation
Now wheres your admiration or
do you feel some aggravation
How does "Open your eyes and
see the truth" sound as a
consummation.
Categories:
deviation, how i feel
Form:
Rhyme
My wall
The safe space that I hide
There, you don't exist
And I go on with my life
My wall is impenetrable
It can withstand a strong wind
Yet its permeable
It's where I decide who I let in
My wall has a purpose
Resolving my troubles and fears
I deflect
It's a trick, I learned in my early years
My wall keeps people out
I feel protect from my foes
Unfortunately, I become a prisoner
Captive within the confines of a mind you don't know
My wall has consequences
Sometimes I feel locked inside
I suffocate in isolation
Relationships get fractured in my life
The wall that I built
To provide shelter from my storm
Creates a temporary reprieve
An illusionary deviation from the norm
For those who have built a wall
Life is never quite the same
You see, we get to hold all the cards
In a dysfunctional game that we play
My wall is strong
Impenetrable some may say
Just don't take it personal
It's a trust issue, that's made me this way
Categories:
deviation, anger, angst, anxiety, conflict,
Form:
Rhyme
Staring, vapor locked, at my Hammond B-3 console organ, which dominates my
kitchen. Surely a symbol of my madness. I can't help, but think, if the keys were
the days of my life, and the black ones represented the bad days, are there
enough black keys?? Fighting petulance, self-pity...losing...
Wondering if I can stand another minute alone. Atop my organ, music books,
and the complete works of Edgar Allan Poe, another mad poet.
Plagued by physical agonies that merely complete a perfect circle of anguish
and distress. Even to worrying of misspelling a word again. Pure lunacy.
Remembrance of my 1863 death at Missionary Ridge, something I became
aware of as a young child before I'd ever heard of reincarnation. Or just an early
sign of the madness to come??
I am lost in a befouling miasma of deep despair. My life's hopes down to 2
desires; one last music band, and taking my son to Disneyworld. Money is
meaningless to me.
I am well aware that death is as natural as life. And I would venture to guess
that the loss of my father, my young cousin Billy, my dear friend Mark Trotiner, and
too many others, are "Business As Usual" in this universe. But not for me.
Being terminally ill myself is something I have long since come to terms with.
And what a reunion it will be!! But I must continue to go on surviving as though I
cherish this long and barren life.
My writing, especially my poetry, my poet friends, my music, my musician
friends, and a few relatives and others; these are the meds that work for me; not
the 30 or so pills I must deal with everyday. So thank you all.
And now an addendum, one which brightened my day:
Mark Trotiner long maintained that he gave Mark Knoffler (Dire Straights) the
idea for his hit song "Money For Nothing", when Mark Knoffler came into the
appliance chain store he worked in way back then, where he bought, and drove
off with several T.V.s, singing the prototype words he'd gotten from Mark Trotiner.
Over the years, I tested him repeatedly, looking for the tale-tell deviation in the
story one finds in a false tale. He never faltered, he never failed.
Continued.....
Categories:
deviation, adventure, death, family, friendship,
Form:
Prose Poetry
No doubt, no confusion
Pointing at the right target
No sympathy, No affection
Having no time for regret
No sound, no hesitation
The arrow leaves the hand
No anxiety, no deviation
The arrow cuts through wind
No remorse, no fears
The arrow hit the target
No compassion, no tears
The darkness grips you tight
Categories:
deviation, absence, evil, humanity,
Form:
Rhyme
Creating damages that will cause a hole
A powerful bang, pulling down the pole
The tree has fallen, no place for the owl
A U-turn becomes a continuous roll
Causing so much effect to break the bowl
Long lasting deviation, making the toll
Young soul affected, or of nation’s goal
Scarce invertebrates for the hungry mole
Major change, devastating to the whole
Categories:
deviation, change, life, natural disasters,
Form:
Monorhyme
Ignorance....
How is it...gifted with
abilities to reason
we can all remain so unaware...
How is it...gifted with
mental ability of logic
yet,what do we really know....
Even with our limited sense
of language and words to communicate
how do you describe in uncertain terms
the unknown...yet,not completely unknown
If your regular 5 senses move beyond the norm
you hear things different
you see things different
you feel things different
again...because of our lack of impression
where do you find the tools neccesary
to convey such an inner feeling...
as you also struggle with heighten perception.....
Entropy......
As we continue forward into the unknown
with our continued lack of knowledge
we inadvertently create wider gaps
furthering ourselves from the truth
energy being spent uselessly
creating further chaos and disorder....
The ancient stone builders left us a clue
in their placement of the cornerstone....
any deviation in angled positioning
would lead to a deformed structure
like the leaning tower of Pisa.....
Consciousness...
The evolution of the mental age
requires such attention,as to rid
ourselves of the ignorant state of mind
which only furthers entropy within the self
but,also within our global community
which,if not mindful...
we continue in a deformed state of being......
HAYA....." to be...or not to be "
is not the question
it's our true quest......
Categories:
deviation, life, nature, philosophy,
Form:
Free verse
Ah, perfection…..
The ever-sweet concoction of confection
Color inside the lines no deviation
No platypus designs in this creation
Be British, never rise above your station
Perfection….
We’re told we’ll never get there - so why try
Achieving naught but failure till we die
Listening to teachers sadly sigh
While wiping way the tears we couldn’t cry
One size would never fit us all
From birth until we slowly learn to crawl
Neither can one bag collect the leaves of fall
Nor mute the changing tone of winter’s pall
Cold harriers will stalk the written word
Slash it with a heartless wooden sword
For using words that they could not afford
To describe a mud rimmed pond as a fjord
So strive to be the best that you can be
Remembering that freedom isn’t free
And as you etch the page with flowing ink
There is much room between red’s edge - and pink
John G. Lawless
©4/4/2022
Categories:
deviation, life, poetry, writing,
Form:
Rhyme
From neglect comes deviation, electrifying radiation, like a leaf in the shadow,
Drying stanza so bore-some, a bit much candidly said,
In the Sun thinly it is spread,
As it comes to - an End.
Unpropitious almost as a son left to die in a wooden casket,
Beating the chest, screaming the pain dumped in the basket
This fight that is looming, so void and gore,
Drained of meaning, young and old, shaken, - I’ve been told.
Hey, loner-donor go seek Freud and subscribe to the membership of bold.
What name, say you?
Look up, zap the depth and any chance,
Given but not forgiven, just sanitised slam dance,
Not tipping the balance,
So settled, decisive and predisposed,
Here comes the pain rolling down the mountains at Pieve di Cadore
You do not know whether to ignore or adore.
I am a natural riparian who likes to fasten poplars on the banks of my heart
My eyesight at breast height gets pulled by gravity – down!
Sipping on a glass of Vitis Viifera while avoiding an overdose
In the eyes of a true ochre sensible enough
To touch the ground or poke her.
Grab the ivory rod that is a relic of lies,
Crafted for the bride who held it dearly
In the arc it traveled back and forth,
North to south, back to north.
Everything crumbled, thorn to pieces,
Gunning down feeling after feeling,
The fight is looming, but I am not kneeling.
Categories:
deviation, allusion, betrayal,
Form:
Free verse
Zealots are totally incapable of any emotion other than rage. It is an unalterable law that people who claim to care about the human race are utterly indifferent to the sufferings of individuals.
— Quentin Crisp
ZEALOTS
The raging machine, storms of zigzagging arrows, fueled by each word that bounces off the trampoline of their eardrums. A zealot sage, an oxymoronic knight, not a saint. Stained not with tears but billowing eyes and cheeks.
emotional wreck
concentrated on one theme
no deviation
The heave and the ho of heavy sacks. Teamwork in torrent. The zealot doesn’t stop to hear a prophet, except Simon. Simon will buzz in their ear about a diamond but the team has their eyes on the gold. With cold, strong hands, they sharpen their swords, meditating on the prize. They want to topsy-turvy, throw out the law, upturn the tables of dirty coins.
if one turned his head
a scene of perfect substance -
heals blind, deaf and dumb
Does the tyrant trump the zealot, or is power the point? Both explode. Not on their sides, you will be imprisoned or stomped out. Simple Simon was a zealot whose ears steared toward the Son of God.
Simon the Zealot
apostles known by their works
one’s tax collector
Zealots loose whilst hell’s hammer wills the fastening of cruel suffering. This innocent has the right approach to rid the world of tyrants though the chariots have not entered the course. The zealots would still be wielding their swords as the stone was kicked away in a powerful way.
Zealots have their way
the martyrs follow Christ’s way
Simon chose wisely
Categories:
deviation, angst,
Form:
Haibun