Best Distorted Poems


Premium Member Distorted View On Main Street

Looking at my reflection
In a pool of water,
my face appeared oblong
as the quivering breeze
created ripples across the surface,
for a moment as I pondered
I spy a glimpse of the future,
looking up at me!

© Harry J Horsman  2012

Premium Member It's Nothing But Delusion

Today they believed the lies
the distorted truths… the accusations… and wrong-doing cries
the created fabrications which are easy to consume
conceptualizations and distortions… abundant and abloom.

Responsibility once assumed… but now rarely seen
reality now falsified… made convoluted… and obscene.
And the beat goes on….
as the mind is twisted
like that character… on Prodigal Son.

And while these false narratives appear
which the perpetrator wishes that all will embrace
the ego desperately asserts and manipulates
loyalty and trust is what it requires, and necessitates
but the soul is slaughtered… beaten… and no where to be found
and truth is tossed… lost… by perplexing theories which abound
while delusion….
leaves nothing but despair and mind confusion.
And life goes on….
the mind twisted
like that character… on Prodigal Son.

Distorted Discourse

alcoholic actors age artificially
frustrated feminists fornicate fiendishly
clever cops cripple conspiracies
nervous nannies neglect nurseries
morbid ministers murder martyrs
jealous judges justify junkies
lazy lawyers liberate lunatics
paranoid pimps pacify prostitutes
emotional eccentrics execute evangelists
gullible gangsters glorify graveyards
horny hypocrites horrify humanists
impotent invalids inspire incest
scorned schizophrenics sabotage sanity
disgraced diplomats destroy democracy
tormented terrorists terminate treason
reformed revolutionaries regret redemption


The Distorted Mirror

Mirror, Mirror on the wall,
You're not playing fair at all.
I'm really now upset with you,
For giving your distorted view.

You show my hair is turning grey,
It's just the way shadows play.
I know that you're not hanging straight,
To make me look so overweight.

The way you show a double chin,
Is just the way the light comes in.
I think I'm fine, but you're so wise,
To put some accent on my thighs.

I wish you'd try to be my friend,
And tell me I'm a little thin.
Just tell me I look good in jeans,
And frilly shirts and pretty things 

Please don't let the wrinkles show,
I'd like to have a pretty glow.
I see you won't respond at all,
So I just tear you off the wall.

Premium Member Distorted Perception

Lost in anxieties maze
toxins leach from chaos
stretching sanities limits. 

Source of rapid fire emotions
mental positions overflow
tainting commonsense with fear.

Anxieties demons plant hatred
upon intolerances fertile fields
watching, each side harvest paranoia.

Communication is in melt down
constant accusations and blame
for none can keep a civil tonge.

So both side suffer
Distorted preceptions, questioning
what is the American way?

Distorted Dream

Awakening from my sleep, was it all just a dream? Then the reality sinks in and soon my vision starts to fill my eyes with watery tears…from a man’s broken dream. My only escape from my broken dream, a full glass of brandy or maybe a couple of shots of gin? Pictures that fill my wall of happier times… memories gone by and frames covered in dust and dried tears stain that cover the glass. No man should have to endure such pain or heartache in one lifetime…I guess this distorted dream of happy family will be my lost legacy?


Premium Member Distorted Essence

Rhapsody of rainbow morphs to morose mélange
Bleeding colors bleached from the twilight cloud 
Rainstorm daubs as blemish on the broken heart
The shades of grey paint the frayed linen of love.

Requiem of roses resonates in melancholic medley
Petals pine for dripping tear drops of mourning dew 
Desiccate in somber sunshine in the deserted mind
Fallen flowers make bouquet for deceased passion. 

Cacophony capsuled in the cauldron of mute melody 
Chaotic symphony dismantles on the discord waves
Strained smiles sneer the scarred scenario of lone life
Songs turn to convoluted noise echoed by the soul.

The lattice of life seen through the languid cynic lens
Magnifies into crooked contortion of distorted essence.

Bulimia

Eat
Eat
Those words I hate
This isn’t a cry, I just hate the way it taste
as its greasy eyes and melted sun linger over the bun.
A whisper lingers in my ear, spilling hurtful little lies.
Clinics and shrinks tell me I am mental
It is all in your head stop being non-cynical.
My mother says to be perfect, you must project
To be perfect is to neglect,
So why can’t I get this correct.
The smell makes me queasy,
Maybe a little uneasy 
I take a bite 
Maybe two or three.
This mirror starts to hate me, 
aggravating my soul
letting me see I have no self-control. 
This body is wavering. 
I push, till it comes up,
and soon I'm at ease,
For this whale has been lifted.
My hair is dull, my body thin
I feel nothing within
ED has become my friend, he is unrelenting
He lingers in this hellhole that has begun

Distorted Perception of Reality

It's all about love,
All Madness, Pain and Misery.
But what makes it so rough
That hurts all stones so easilly?

Eternal question 'What?'
Which causes all the troubles.
But askless men are odd
Like stonish soap bubbles.

The topic is the least
Of what we're always worry.
The more important 'Beast'
Is how to feel no Sorry.

Emotions are obscure
for those, who are 'Successful'.
Much better: Ride the rules
Unless your life'll be stressful.

The point is to find 
The EmoLogic balance,
And here, if you don't mind,
I'll hide behing the valance.

It's up to each of us
Which road'll be taken,
But be sure not to trust
Those thoughts, which did just broke in.

                               15.08.2012.

Distorted Gloom

This rainy precipitation keeps falling endlessly from my face. My hand slips everytime I attempt to wipe the wetness away.
No one cares, because no one sees me as myself. Why? They just see me as a some number on a bulletin board. I am quite literally a poster child.
I am practically an invisible glob of existence to all humanity. The same humanity that kills each other off as some type of high to achieve.

Hi world, I will take my chances. Where no one listens and no one speaks to me. Although, I am free and confined in the same breath. My eyes are bleeding. Yet, I still noticed that my finger tips were turning icy blue. 
The blank spaces in my mind, allows me to calm the roaring sounds of what is left of my sanity. The colourful liveliness of my body is escaping me in slow motion. My breathing patterns are rapidly increasing against my control.
 
What the heck is happening to me? The inner parts of my thighs are drenched in man-like sweat. Gravity is getting the best of my movement. I passed out in the middle of the alley, and awoke to pooping birds, teenage gossip and zooming cars.
 
The pedestrians walking by were staring, basically gawking their eyes at me. Then my cousin Cassy called for me and chuckled. I reached into my pockets for something, for anything. What I found was a burnt roach of the cannabis that I had smoked for the very first time. You mean to tell me that I was hallucinating in a upper high this entire while. I will not on ant occasion, smoke again!
© Latoya Ri  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Always You - the Distorted Diablo Style

~Always You~
(Distorted Diablo)


Nice dreams hopes still behold
With him love surpasses all
Cause of him I can't quit
Meditate in his love
His love never fails me
His love just completes me.

Lord You make my whole soul just aglow
Your presence makes me feel so happy
When look around there is always You
All may change but You will stay the same
Your love is beautiful, just the best
I worship You today and forever
In good and bad times You're always there
You'll see me through all and dry my tears
I am thankful to You for everything.

Thank God for loving me
For all You do for us
For the gifts you give me
Happy You're in my life
With You not all alone
Know for us all You care.


Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2013

 

January.18.2016


~Author's Notes:

The Distorted Diablo is a poetry style created by John Henson.

Distorted Desire

Hope no found, 
Life too short, 
Caterpillar on a hedge sword, 
Walking in a sensational trait.
Love abode, care abounds,
 
I could have leaved a million years without love.
This papa longed for but never seen.
The wives bend at the back of his hope.
This my brothers wear yet in futility of life.
Won't this be my endless cross to bear? 

That a century gone love yet unfound.
Lady in a blue lace I adored till astghik came my way.
Love I sing to her, deaf ears she turns.
Friendship she desires, with no hope I'm dancing to her tune.
Yet all to avail.

For how long will I celebrate lunacy within me? 
No joy will be mine if love is returned in pity.
Her full heart i want for a blissful home.
Oh! What will be my life if she desires me not? 
Lest I become a miserable ass waiting for
triumphant entry.

"distorted"

See who I ‘am? Don’t you even know who I ‘am? Don’t fake 

like you don’t know me, you’ve seen me Before…I’m sure you 

have. The sisters all be hating on a fine sister like me, because 

I got it going on… Yeah, I’m the one that all the brothers want to 

get with in town and those who haven’t wish that I could be their 

Boo or Lil Ma. Let them dream on, I’m too much woman for just one 

alone. You know you want me to be yours? All the brothers be wanting 

to buying me the finest black pearls, diamonds and lynx furs…just to get 

to know my name or get them digits from me. You feel me? You be faking 

like you don’t see me when you be walking with your little anorexic 

wife, but I see you sneaking a peeking out the side of your eyes at all this 

lushes big booty thing as I pass you by. I know you want me? I might just 

let you get with me, once I finish this last flight of stairs and get my inhaler 

out of my pocketbook and check my blood pressure and finish this last piece 

of KFC chicken. Yeah, even my horny young doctor wants to jump on these big 

bones, he says…”Ms. Johnson you need to get your weight under control or 

you’re going to die.” that’s just his little secrete way for saying I’m staring at your 

big full bosoms and I’m just dying to bury my face between them later on tonight. 

Yeah, he be begging for a shot at the big show… you all know you want me? I hear 

yall when yall giggling and snickering behind my back as I pass yall by, be trying 

to get my attention. You all know I’m way too busy to be bothered with all you haters 

and all these men who want to be my lover and stuff.  Honey… I’m in a hurry I have 

to get my bus stop, so I can catch my next bus.

Distorted

Arabian sea
Encroached the city
With chopped head
And swelled legs.

Clouds fought like black cats
Spirit scented rain raged on.

The world lay
As if in a morgue
Varied dance accrued
Atop it.

View distorted

The Ballad of Love Distorted

The Ballad of Love Distorted 

The horse’s ears flicker in silent rebuke
His rider is tense, taut, confused. 
Raw frost shining in soft silver rhythm 
And the cutting cold wind is unforgiving, 

A dark house ahead, his fate there, unseen. 
The rider dismounts with a silent scream. 
‘Quiet now boy!’ and the horse retreats. 
A hard push and a heavy door creaks.

His weapon drawn, his mind clear 
His raw senses breathing fear 
A loose floorboard, a startled cat 
A glare, a thud,
                 Draw back? Draw back? 

The stillness returns as his heartbeat slows 
He reaches the bedroom and oh but he knows 
His daughter’s light breath as his fury grows 
‘Ssh Molly’ he hears ‘Sleep now ,pretty rose.’ 

He sees in the moonlight through a latticed pane 
Her white throat, soft face, her delicate frame 
Sleeping soundly and peaceful in love’s afterglow 
He grips his pistol and aims true and low 

As firmly he points at Lord Arthur’s head 
he hears his Molly as she softly says 
‘I love him, Daddy, and that, death won’t change.
 I’m sorry you’re hurt. I know you feel pain.’ 

But her father despairs for her future, her life 
He remembers with horror Lord Arthur’s good wife 
A partner discarded, in madness and strife 
Lord Arthur had killed her, for Molly, his child. 

He readies the weapon, this much he controls, 
As Molly she screams and Arthur he rose 
The horse in the meadow he neighs and implores 
But the foul deed is done as his daughter, she roars.

‘Oh Father, my father, what have you done?’
He turns and he stumbles, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t run.
© Jo Riglar  Create an image from this poem.

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