Best Deviations Poems


Syzygy

"Syzygy"

Behind the wet dunes
fringed with seagrass
a blood crescent 
kisses the forehead 
of dreamer traversed
twin aeon syzygy 
barefeet the velvet 
sophia imprints
softly speak 
like words seen
dancing across
the place between 
heaven and earth
mapping deviations
non-standard
calibrating alignment
played forward through 
unchartered jaded
emerald forests
where the satin skin 
becomes sparkling
crystalline it shatters 
like a shell disgarded, then
the body of no substance
becomes transparent 
enveloped in rapturous 
Devabani heralding
commands cast 
from divine throats
lutes and sitars
whirling nightingales
dervishes wingspanned 
accompany angelic legions
the journey melts into
deep blue mysterious oceans
easily walked, hypnotic the 
transparent beckoning,
this is the way come,
come, come closer
closer, come forward,
on higher Elysian steppes
the bride smiles
an unspoken secret
and turns

the eyes are 
twin windows 
like doorways

opening 
swallowing 

(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)

Premium Member Those Pair of Latent Eyes

She has a pair of subtle eyes to brood in forlorn,
the vile tale of heart rending cacophonic dissolution.
Those eyes were meek, never crude
to yearn the ties of proximity longed! 
Those meek adorable eyes have endured 
the absolute phases of reckless decimation:
have witnessed the brutal armageddon
of its  plunderers desolation,
who have thwarted  her genial expectations! 

She has those mystic musing eyes 
to impulse in pensive disposition,
an amiable abode of assured assertion,
to recreate the invisible affable bonding of elation;
a placid reciprocating ambience of virtuous relation:
has flair for the  protection, the care, the infallible affection, 
despite, those hands' propensity for imprudent desolation! 

Those pair of sober eyes longed to thrive in composure and attention; in delectation,never in aversion! 
Oh! what a horrific sight, with the axes in the hands, 
the slayers and usurpers of its tranquil serenity
 are waiting like sordid savages for her dire extinction!

Her latent moistened eyes are witnessing the march of those executioners:
are sobbing in utter horror and dismay,
cursing and shrieking quietly her non kinetic endeavours, 
to conserve the sacred entity in virgin forests; pristine, 
from the unscrupulous callous ventures of the predators.    

She has those whimpering eyes to foresight;
to remind the dire repercussions
of dereliction of reckless deviations;
Are wailing and mourning in utter seclusion,
the ceaseless thumps of the usurpers' annihilation.  

Those Pair of Latent Eyes are Nature's Eyes, neither vague, nor obscured:
silently screeching and watching, 
the relentless heedless ravagers' devastations,
Not yet any restoration, despite beseeching imploration,
needless to predict, will reveal in various manifestations!

Disturbed Creature- Am I

A poem wrote by me, based on Person who is a deserving icon but still struggling hard with his career life and addressed as disturbed creature.

DISTURBED CREATURE--> Am I ??       BY Mrs.Madhavi 

Am I so insane, Am I so mad,
Dramatic mood of mine is so die hard.
Destroyed my peace, Shattering my dreams,
People call me as disturbed creature.
As like mounting the pain, attenuating the drain!!

Digesting my feelings lying inside me,
Strangely nobody cared, call me sick.
Teasing me lavishly and my heart is pricked,
Hurted me like hell when addressed me as stupid.
As like showering rain, missing on the lane!!

Time lapse in journey of life,
Can hamper anybody on its path.
When I see innate reflex of mine,
I always use to brightly shine.
Though possessing every job attributes of mine,
I never thought the authorities will ditch and hamper my career line.
Falsely acting bloody swine, making my image as fade as wine.
As like affecting harmonious divine, my soul was, as is transparently pristine!!

Destroying me and testing my patience, Never wanna give up.
Transformed deviations, wanna rightly screw up.
I wanna raise up, I wanna shake up.
I wanna wake up, Tranquilize my mind.
Unzip the professional life compressed by the culprits.
Wanna explore myself, driving the motivated heights of journey.
Lastly waiting for the optimistic opportunity.
Cuffing the suspect ,I wanna rejoice by my pattern of life!!
© Maddy Sp  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Expectations

promise may be both a blessing and curse
sometimes turning into something far worse
potential the symbol for higher things
beyond the grasp of most human beings

entering such an uneven bargain
few do willingly pick up the burden
where any result short of final goal
makes an individual less than whole

pressing beyond standard deviations
brought down by weight of old expectations
having become the fly-in-the-ointment
can’t avoid looks of clear disappointment

all but a game of another's making
freedom lies within the role's forsaking
© Ng Rippel  Create an image from this poem.

Easter Musing

On Fort Apache Indian Reservation, in Arizona, there is an old pueblo ruin called, "Kinishba", aka "Dull brown house in the middle of nowhere". 

On a hill overlooking Kinishba, there is an older ruin where I enjoyed sitting to listen to the wind whispering among the pine trees as I photographed fauna going about their daily routine.

One morning, I was watching snow fall and melt on the ancient paths below, when I suddenly realised that -although water is heavy, and easily spilt - there was not one single path leading directly from the ruin to the spring at Kinishba! 

Everyone knows the proverbial "straight and narrow" is the shortest distance between two points, yet every path to the spring had twists and turns for which there was no obvious reason!

One might imagine there may have been a long-gone tree, bush, rock, shrine, or some other superstition to account for those deviations but, whatever the reasons may have been, the snow made it crystal clear that people will ignore the easy straight and narrow to follow the long and winding path of their ancestors for no logical reason whatsoever, century after century after century. 

Good luck to you!

Initiation

The evening air spreading its soft chill,
Playing with the blue mountain to nature's will,
New snow flakes engulfs the barren hills,
Taming my heart with tender warmth and thrills. 

At the inn the keeper holds a lighted candle, 
For us to follow with our packaged bundle,
With grace I wish to avoid a scandal,
Watch my man close the lone door by its handle.

Firewood burns in the wooded homestead,
Spreads it warmth over the snug cushioned bed,
Waits to partake in our action unsaid,
Melting moments for me to love or dread.

Delightful face turns to look up to me,
Candid sensuality in phantoms plea,
Urges me to be forthwith naked and free, 
Passion denudes barriers under siege.

Anticipation now burns to aspire,
Taut space between our naked bodies perspire,
And I blush in its heat with hot desire,
Keep my eyes closed as he sets me afire.

Intoxicants flame touched by libations 
Sequesters inflamed wet-lip deviations,
Within pleasure kiss gratification,
Outraging tongue's in communication.

Open my eyes to his tactile fondness, 
Soon hands engage the spherical hardness,
Force me to opt with resoluteness, 
And lie on my back touched by tenderness.

My desperate palms crawl over his back,
Nuptial quivers awake rapture's with knack,
Crazy teeth dig and wildly bite his neck,
Betwixt the legs he performs his attack.  

In anticipation I surrender,
As he sets to probes the naked blunder,
Rave’s down the silky valley to plunder,
Unzipped by the latent strike, I thunder.

Reeling from the quick fervent thrusts I cry,
With rage responding to his sadist try, 
As he pulls back to enter and defy,  
Totally exposed I shudder and sigh.

Quaking with delirious pleasure I cuddle,
Both legs entrapped within the carnal struggle,
Brace quivering bottom in the muddles,
As petals rock within the moist puddles.

Smiling at my denuded enslavement,
Holding my arms in ardent deployment,
Torments my frail defiance with enjoyment,
While his knee's direct steady placement.
 

Seething with resistance his hardness grows,
Raw power sustaining his taming blows,
Ecstasy mows the bulging heat to sow,
Freely we climax in its cosmic flow.

Begs reprieve for his ebbed shrunken demands;
While in love he obeys all my commands.
© Jai Garg  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Good Bondi vs Bad Bondi

A lovely beach down under
where evil Zionists faced the lords thunder
IDF soldiers dancing with Satan
Rabbis kissing bombs 
and wishing onto children their deviations
the Avenger brought justice
for those vaporized by Zionists
as humans they simply disgust us 
God promised them nothing
other than shame
evil as this must burn in flames

 
Now in the Good ol US of A
where slavery they loved forever and a day
Bondi is evil, her morals on display
a woman protecting men in power
who rape and abuse
then blind justice will excuse
I have to wonder
how many Zionists
fund her
or bugged her

The New Puritans, Part Ii

...It was only two days later
when the local catholic high school
was told their team name, the ‘Crusaders,’
was insensitive and uncool.
Protestors showed up to bellow slurs,
and get all up in the kids’ face,
the media scoffed and insulted
the children and their competing faith.

It was about this time that I
began to notice a trend,
these people all seemed to be leftist,
and were miserable to no end.
Their reactions weren’t disagreements,
they were rabid cries of “Heresy!”
no longer could they understand
deviations from their beliefs.

And like every True Believer
they thought they were doing God’s work,
their God was the state, above all else,
and all must now obey his words!
This all seemed very odd to me,
didn’t they once preach tolerance?
And now they destroy the different,
how the hell does that make any sense?

How does a person go from free speech
to banning any words they don’t like?
How do you scream “appropriation,”
when you once said,”Learn from that tribe?”
What comes next, a scarlet ‘R,’
to represent their favorite slur,
an ‘S’ if you don’t bow to women,
an ‘F’ if you refuse their words?

Or maybe they’ll give yellow stars
to all who refuse to comply,
making it easier to find us
when they decide that we should die.
I guess you can’t be a democrat
ff you believe in freedom or fun,
don’t you know they know what’s best for you?
America’s new Puritans.

...you know what, screw 'em! A feminist, a Muslim, and a bisexual midget walk into a bar...

Premium Member Wandering

At times
when you
don't want to
participate in a
societal function
you leave the scene,
wander through
the canyons, crevices
and hallways
of illusive deviations
pondering the ways, means
of your survival.
You don't intend
to be antisocial
but sometimes
you can't find
the essence, purpose
of all the distractions
that others consider vital
to their being.

Lexicon

I asked
what do you do for a living
and there was silence
I asked again 
socially
just to fill the empty spaces
this time to find a silence
before he said 
*********** with a pause
child ***********
do you mind.

Once painting a house
in trade for a much appreciated car
I pulled a bed out 
to discover 
soft 
padded 
metal rings 
chained on every corner
what are these I asked
not socially for I was really curious
I didn’t need to know he told me
hiding his padded handcuffs
deep under the covers.

Walking home one night
I found myself yelling foul mouthed 
fear filled obscenities
at two laughing boys
as they ran their car straight at me
no deviation, no variation in line
just the screech of the oil pan
the spray of hot oil
hissing onto the street
as it hit the tall curb.

not thinking
they meant to kill me
not thinking of pain
not thinking of deviations
or small deaths 
some days my naiveté’s frighten me
if I have the words.



* the vocabulary of a particular social class, language, social class….

Premium Member To a Star Wars Distraction

TO A STAR WARS DISTRACTION 

Now a new fantasy
to plug the bleeding vein
flowing with the captures’ blood
flowing from ruptured injustice vessels
pierced by just picks chipping away bigotry
begotten in winters of frost bitten freedoms
frozen in time—that ticking tock
didactic wanderer in the shadowed valley. 

So now enters warring
stars of illusion—designed detractors
of the mind; engaging wishfully, fooled thinkers
in games of self destructive elimination—
self invaded fantasicide of infertile minds.
 
The Most High populated
the vastness thereof with the stars
to illuminate the universal
reality of all  creation!

How long
will we allow
fantasy deviations
of the feared reality?
How long
will we frolic
in fantasy victories
of a pixel peace
projected by star wars
of deceptive illusions
deleting the conscience
of our hope
with uploaded delusions?

Premium Member Leave It Out Judge

The judge told the man, “You’re accused
By all of those that you abused.
You’re too touchy feely,
You touch and feel freely
And all of them feel they’ve been used.”

The man cleared his throat, then he spoke
But all that came out was a croak
He coughed and he spluttered
But nothing got muttered
It sounded as though he might choke

The judge said, “Are there mitigations
For your regular deviations
For touching two teachers
And one or two preachers
And, with my wife, having relations?”

The man cleared his throat once again
His voice cackled like an old hen
He just couldn’t speak
It could take a week
His lawyer requested a pen

The judge said, “It only gets worse,
You fondled a man in a hearse
It’s really quite shoddy
To grope a dead body
To decency you are a curse.”

The man tried to write a quick note
He coughed and he wheezed as he wrote 
He struggled for breath
Like he was near death
Or had a bullfrog in his throat 

The judge said, “Speak up at the double
You sound like you’ve gargled with rubble
As a means to an end
Suck a Fisherman’s Friend.”
The man said,,, “I’M IN ENOUGH TROUBLE!”

Premium Member Deadlock

Highs and lows, deviations of waves in a predicament
                     in full effect like the seven seas currents weighing the
                    pros and cons, incessant periods of non-stop rabbit holes
                     at a crossroad. Deadlock affairs what direction to take
                    
                   assemble, so many turning points to face, fear penetrates and
                   plays a role that no progression can change of oppossing hearts.

                   Sort out an impasse of authenticity, withdrawals symptoms
                    similar to an addictions fiend and their choices.

Leftover Tomorrows

Leftover Tomorrows

Not just the yin and yang of life
Not just the perplexed and entangled
Not even the esoterically amplified deviations
Just the oxymoron nature of the beast 

It’s the fashion of ascending and escaping
Of falling into the voids of the heart
When love transcends into emptiness
Our minds form designs to abstract

To gain wisdom teased from agony
From wakeful weaving of earthly plights
A roller coaster of leftover tomorrows
Inverse our perception of dancing tonight

Tgif

These are not donations
But only my frustrations
From working all workstations
Yet no compensations
For Calais formations
From all my creations
Confrontations leads
To my deviations
Exclamations 
In need a vacation
I feel vibrations
Cause my expectations
Is I meet expectations
© Tara Shaw  Create an image from this poem.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace