Best Disrupts Poems
yellow finch
perches on the blue bell
precarious existence
a loopy optimism
on a long flower stem, bending
a high wire act
a finely poised stature
picture perfect
infused with summer's tangled bounty
yellow finch
a jubilant preening
in July sun elevating distraction
till my movement disrupts the pleasure of seclusion
its brisk flight away
a furtive companionship
jaunty
unexpected
jubilant in its simplicity
For Sofia Coppola
The epitome of serenity
lies just beneath the foot of me
sashaying through the sweet, clean grass
White linen bathes my skin
my loose hair dancing in the wind
billowy clouds, how silently they pass
Oh Mozart!
take my heart
dance playfully and light about my mind
Mandolin disrupts the wind
glint of sunshine blinds my eye
fat, sumptuous grapes exploding on the vine
Brie, bordeaux, wild strawberries
fill the bounty set in front of me
my avid hunger puts me to the test
To my woolly lamb, how safe I am
amongst the wheat so tall and tan
as I hold him firm and snug against my breast
Take me home
thatched roof and stone
the proud gazebo stands beyond the stream
My duvet of straw and hay
my eyes they close, my body lay
to lose myself inside Sofia's dream.
My impression after viewing Sofia Coppola's Marie Antoinette.
Villain Unmasked
In odd places the Villain appears,
In the right places he disappears-
On merry moments then re-appears.
For, such is the habit of a Villain
Who enjoys to inflict carnal pain
Yet, scarce and elusive to be slain.
He contorts in a fearsome grimace
Ogling timid children on the face
Their infantile courage to displace.
Crawling like a famished beast,
Beating and flexing scaled breast;
He mulls on how to enjoy the 'feast'.
Where children are happy at play,
Ugly features at once are on display
To throw everyone into disarray;
Face clad on an fearsome hood,
Picks and chases them in the wood
To eat the abandoned Picnic food.
He cast to innocent people a spell
By urinating in the clean water well
Sickness to ring the death knell.
No wonder, he flies on black garb
Wielding the sword or his barb-
Voice, tearing the air with rhubarb!
His throaty laugh is deep, not mild
He groans and growls loud and wild
To shudder man, woman and child.
Between two lovers having sex
Suddenly, he re-appears to perplex
By disturbing, disrupting the reflex!
To the crafty potter kneading hard
He disrupts Industry and its reward
By breaking everything to shard.
Villain and his cruel art of stealth,
Art of disrupting another's wealth
Peace, Happiness and his health;
Art of appearing in places so rare
Schism, fear and confusion to flare
Peace, harmony, stability to scare;
One day he will know that his art
And foible of scare is not so smart-
He will be impaled by a holy heart!
Two sets of three words each
Each sets forces in motion
Mighty as mountains, vast as the ocean
The first set, "I give up"
All momentum it quells
The future, disrupts
The other, "I love you"
Walks you out on a limb
Your destiny magical; alternatively, grim
Utter these three words with the utmost care
Never with a wing; always with a prayer
Let it go..
A stream of thoughts ..
Of which some are negative..
Flows inside you.
Through you..
Thoughts a constant battle .
Hauntingly disrupts your own clarity..
Distorts you .
Erodes you..
Subjected to it..
Wrapped in the stream of worries
Negativity arrives at your own finish line..
A race ..
A battle..
Cease fighting..
Succumb to what is..
Existence it is..
Let it go..
Let it be..
For the only power it had..
Was indeed the power you had given it..
Acknowledge..
Accept..
Wave goodbye to the steam of those thoughts..
Let it go..
Let it be .
Distortions shall diminish..
Your own finish line will receive clarity..
A crystal clear awakening had begun..
Your beautiful energy flows inside you..
Though you..
Peacefully ..
Gracefully..
Lovingly..
Embrace the flow..
There,
if your spacesuit tears,
death awaits.
“Armstrong, when he arrived on the moon,
must have felt the same,
though this is only
a hundred meters.
Still,
I felt a kind of
nirvana,”
said Jacques Mayol.
There,
if your breath falters,
death awaits.
Though he returned
from the deep many times,
in the end,
he chose his final dive.
He chose a place
from which
there is no return.
Nirvana—
a state of release
from suffering.
They say
a restless mind
disrupts the breath.
Even in the depths,
he kept
his mind still.
But in truth,
deep within,
there were waves
rippling all along.
When you dive deep,
not a single bubble,
not a single ripple
can rise.
Whether the world
a hundred meters down
is suffering
or peace—
I wouldn’t know.
Nor can I say
whether the world of death
is suffering,
or peace.
Faith VS Fear
By: Miracle Man
3-28-2020
A virus has bequeathed each, a sedentary life,
we try looking past it but often it remains rife,
We answer a door knock and find fear standing.
allowed to enter it becomes thought commanding.
We shouldn’t let concern, become fear that’s dire,
fear disrupts any goals to which we might aspire.
We should try living each day as if it were our last,
through faith and prayer we render fear an outcast.
“The only thing we have to fear, is fear itself.”
"say Brian"
what is your poetry creed?"
POETRY IS AN ORAL ART AT ITS BEST WHEN RECITED
it then becomes a two-way unique one-off.experience .
ok then...to the detail-
"So is traditional line capitalisation ok with you?"
In RHYME ..YES..
but NOT otherwise as it creates a natural pause (ie it stilts) & thus disrupts the flow
"presumably thats why wrap-around lines are also a no-no for you? "
YES but mainly they are not visually conducive to read digitally or otherwise!
"Ok,I see that but what have
you got against those five forms
and the like,you know
acrostic,
kyrielle
terzanelle
villanelle
&pantoum etc? "
NOT against them per se
they can be good for a learning exercise,
a bit like scales are important when learning the piano
but are too contrived & mechanical IMHO for our art form
"Yet you like shape,emagi & ekphrasis verse! "
Indeed,they reveal my weakness for art in poetry!
"So why do you appear to dislike prose poetry!"
I don't dislike them as such, the two arts just don't mix for my taste.
"Are there particular forms that appeal?"
Rhyme,alliteration,clerihew,footle&hiku*(both in the singular especially)
tanka& American cinquain-will always ring my bell.
& of course
poetry in the OPEN VERSE style
which is what Brian?
**OPEN VERSE uses spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols relies upon 'the one breath limitation' this intuitive cadence pemits the 'reader' (reciter) to respond in an interpretative - interplay unique to the ' happening
Wayne White can't take it no more;
his life is an ordeal and he wells knows
that he's got spies around him galore.
So, no matter what, wherever he goes
stalkers are there, night and day.
They don't leave him alone at all.
They won't get out of the way;
At the store, at the bank, at the mall.
"They follow me, they tap my phone,"
he says. This disrupts his sleep,
undermines his health, makes him weep.
Why on earth don't they leave him alone?
Worst thing is, he doesn't know why
He has become a TI.
The perps perform street theater,
They also stalk him on Twitter.
Life is an illusion
A transient phrase
of reality
Nothing is real
We’re all living in
a fantasy
People die
Friends disappear
Money goes
And some reappear
Empires vanish
And then replaced by
others
Some things are
constant
While some are
adapted by our
brothers
Good and evil
Will remain with us
Throughout our
existence on this
earthly bus
So what is the
hurry?
What is the fuss?
Everything to me
seems getting worse
Why not seek
immortality
Through the deeds
that we do
And let that flame
of eternity burn
forever in you
Life is an illusion
It will always go
away
No matter how hard
we try it will not
stay
Wealth and power
Are like chasing
after shadows
And the more money
you chase
The closer the
hangman’s gallows
Why put your hopes
in a man
He is an illusion
Why puts your hopes
in a system
It is an illusion
Put your hopes in
the Wise Maker
He is the taker
Of all that you see
And the giver
To those before you
in history
And our unborn sons
and daughters
One day you will
wake up
And realize that all
ceases to exist
All that power and
money
You could not resist
Like mirages in the
deserts
Illusions are like
oasis
My thirst for water
Disrupts my
homeostasis
And in the year AD
8700
We will still live
in an illusion
As mighty hands of
time sweeps us away
to the days of old
And the earth that
we wreck
Becomes cold
And the oceans and
the seas rise
Like a tower
Hour after hour
Hour after hour
Man’s panacea then
lies in space
For we must build
galactic arks
To save the human
race
And preserve all
species of Fiona and
fauna
Jet to the high
heavens
Where darkness falls
But we cannot escape
this illusion
As it calls
Tex’s shadow defines him—cut-out
from the heat haze of Karnak’s quartz,
a scintillating contrast to Egypt’s questing sun.
He slouches among the other black castings of
denser composition mottled with grays,
and Prussian blues, incongruent in a cowboy
hat. This six-gun scenario’s frame
disrupts the crafted precision of
a chiseled arch.
****-kicker, lizard-skinned, boots point
toward the desert’s dunes—death hides.
Needing no words to enjoy a taste of antiquity,
Tex shuffles sighs and takes a draw on
an American cigarette. With a flick of his fingers,
he deposits the butt alongside the others
in the white sand. His contribution
to posterity.
First Published in Spank the Carp Issue 21 2016
I get quieten..
When my soul fall into a moment of serenity..
I get still..
When a torifying light disrupts my dark eyes..
Then my heart plays a tone of melancholy..
My moment stops breathing..
When my words starts shivering..
When my words starts shivering..
My steps starts trembling..
I stop living..
When my wounded existence dwells me into a moment of downwardness..
Then my life croons a ballad of threnody..
Constipation as we all too well know
Disrupts everybody’s natural flow
I welcome the Cheerios
When the tummy bulging grows
Shout out to the toilet, “Look out below!”
*For Poet Destroyer’s Favorite Cereal Contest
by Carolyn Devonshire
We live in a Third World country
Where most breathe in poverty
Where progress is way too slow
As corruption disrupts its flow
We see children sleep in streets
With no shelter, no food to eat
We face dreadful traffic everyday
Public works here is a rife dismay
We often hear and see street crimes
Pushing people in face of hard times
Where drug lords in jail operate and sell
For luxuries officials allowed in their cells
We waddle through floods everywhere
Always when beaten by violent weather
Where calamities are taken advantage
By officials drooling for foreign aid
We share the same abused piece of land
Christians and Muslims of the same stand
To dwell in a homeland of pure democracy
Free from politically maneuvered captivity
But we, citizens, are partly to blame
When we vote for leaders who are lame
For lack of sensible men to lead the land
We choose to settle for poseurs of clan brand
What we Filipinos never try to erase
Is that ready smile you see in our faces
Unearthing little happiness as we strive
Until emancipation from hardship arrives
Resiliency, diligence, patience is our virtue
Changing the system overnight is hard to do
We cannot beat this ruthless, harsh society
We need a Moses to free us all from slavery!
I’m broken
Not too much has been spoken
Of my alliance
Towards the silence
Evening corrupts me
Bleeding disrupts me
Contemplating the ending
Of relationships bending
I see sours grapes
Beyond her drapes
Of her eyes
In disguise
I have not feelings of remorse
For it was a broken horse
That brought me into play
When she has left to say
“Not another day to live
With our hearts to give
Extra passion disconnects
When we intersect
Blowing across the wayward
Sun bellows out radiance towards
The hollowness of our distance
That was in time ruthless
We can’t find our way
Too much in dismay
Overtly its under wraps
Our love has found its caps”
Power within the words
I found heartless swords
Banging against my head
As if I was dead
Being that it may
I wish to be that way
But along she never displayed
Hope to see life conveyed
In love’s little capsule
We left without a soul
And nothing she says can save
My broken heart is decayed
Never to be found again
Never to beat, never to begin
I’m broken;
She said so long
I’m taken
And now time seems to drag
In some fashion
To last, never to brag
Covering elastration
Of my heart to snag
Covering times endless battle
Of broken entities settled
Like I have entered
Into the realm diverted
Boasting she elicits pains
From all angles, domains
Now time slows to a crawl
Like I feel nothing at all
But the shards that crossed my path
Entering into my seconds of wrath
I’m just saying
I’m broken -
Long before she said goodbye
Russell Sivey