Best Divested Poems
Enter the Everest that devastates
as he never ever rests and demonstrates
his quick wit picnic of traits that place
with lickety split flicks on the page
the tricks of a contortionist wrist that emits embers at pace
as he commits and performs on the centre stage
with the impact of a storm from the biblical age
the act of an adorned prolific rampage.
Irresistible talent abundantly apparent
you thought you'd witnessed
ability but until now you hadn't
when the rest in the business
appear to be unskilled
and transparent
as their best rhymes diminish
right here to be unfulfilled
and redundant
thus divested of finesse
while it's clear to see you're thrilled
in this moment.
Categories:
divested, slam, smart, word play,
Form:
Rhyme
Written: March 31st, 2025, for contest, Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann
************
After basking in yesterday's afterglow,
I divested my vestments
to shift in cognitive mindset.
I stroll toward the horizon.
where the azure sky
embraces the vast sea blue.
Waves dance.
With silvered clouds,
Creating an orchestra
The wind and light are present.
Sallow shadows scintillate.
In Moonlight Melodies...
As dusk settles,
casting a shimmering awe that echoes of
The splendor of the galaxies abounds.
In every breath,
A promise resonates,
to the dawn
that dwells within me.
Gliding on golden wings
a sovereign among the kings
As light swirls beneath the Milky Way,
The cosmos shines brilliantly.
In a pearly gown.
Angels slide,
Unleashing their power
to restore their lost throne.
With flickering wings,
Wield the sword of stone
their footsteps inscribe
a path of golden light,
As they conquer the onyx depths
of an obsidian night.
Loving blasts their souls.
angel wings shake in sadness,
where grief and despair are hefty,
seeking an aerial citrine nirvana
I recall it sharply,
as if it were yesterday,
Tears mar the silky pillows.
as honeysuckle
It oozes from eager lips. —
There is a longing for satisfaction.
Lipstick etches its mark.
He left an imprint on his bare skin.
Even now, those intertwined chains
of Memory ensnares me.,
As well-oiled fingers traverse
the curves of the sensuous body,
ordinary yet glowing in the sunlight,
filled with a relentless passion.
Nervous tension shattered,
striking, akin to a diamond on ebony velvet.
As her body warmed and became silky,
Her lips melted and tasted delicious.
They expressed love ardently.
and hugged fervently.
swept up in passion and longing,
wishing the moment might last forever,
cocooned in each other's arms,
and felt blissfully pleased,
Polishing words into gems,
dusted garnet, with sunset slips
In citrine clouds cast
There was a ray of magenta skies.
I wish for unending delight.
and utter bliss in the afterglow.
Categories:
divested, analogy, beauty,
Form:
Free verse
What worth am I
in all this madness
what worth are you
in the depths
of all this sadness
there,
see the flight path
to elevation
inside the feels;
inside the fields
of darkness
spring wells of
orbs popping light
the half-stride
of trying phantoms
planting seeds,
half-baked poetry
running
through the veins
the golden fields
of darkness
minutiae sleeping
with Morpheus
under the velvet blankets
of Elysium
terra firma robes
overly well worn
divested now
in waking
kissing the farewell
to be received blessed,
annointed in the essence
of the uncommon
there,
the busy minded,
the unnaturally gifted -
The Poets ...
call you,
see -
the flight path
to elevation
inside the outside inside -
or, called back outside,
there you remain,
forever fixated
on cracking the inside
the hoax planted
in a dybbuk box
unfounded
unworthy demon
sunken
treasure
buried forever
grounded
hear them all, see,
inside the common feels,
the uncommon Poets
call you
see,
the flight path
to elevation
reaching
inside the outside inside
Candide Diderot. ‘24
crosses.
Categories:
divested, muse, poets, words,
Form:
Free verse
I have never been arrested,
abused, discarded, neglected.
All because someone protested,
it’s my color they detested.
I have always been protected,
accepted, respected, vested.
Civil rights never molested,
my freedom never contested.
No one has ever suggested,
because I’m black I’m now suspected.
To be so badly infected,
that it cannot be corrected.
Let this message be digested,
if we want this life perfected.
We must all become connected,
to a world that’s not divested.
Categories:
divested, poetry,
Form:
Rhyme
My heart enfolded the hued horizon of dazzling dawn,
the yearning brush soaked the sunburst colors,
painted a Monet garden blooming with my love,
unfurled the facsimile of your floral face,
adroitly adorned.
The luring luster of lilac rose lined your lips,
quivered with the cadence of the dancing dew.
As rhapsody rippled in my heart’s mesmerized meadow,
at the edge of stalled time I soared in euphoria,
endlessly enchanted.
In the velvet vale of my mind fashioned by fervor,
I carved a charming channel of longing to reach you.
The climbing cloud of my craving came down in a torrent,
making my melodic love a meandering river,
earnestly enthralled.
The oasis of my mind one day dried in the desert,
dripping cloud drenching the desiccated passion didn’t stay long,
disappeared with the draft of the summer wind of discontent,
as in the sand storm the dregs of divested desire drifted away,
utterly unowned.
The river of longing in my abandoned valley got lost,
the fervent flowers I gave you withered in your vase,
but your memory preserved some in perception,
the ones you liked the most,
amazingly adoring.
When in the lonely hours they would appear apparently alive,
take you to the valley of flower we had been together once,
it was me they would then let you know,
and allure you with my unwritten absence,
eternally engraved.
Categories:
divested, analogy, lost love, memory,
Form:
Free verse
"Placebo - Part 2"
There’s little sins and HUGE SINS
Little mistakes, possibly forgiveable.
HUGE MISTAKES, HUGE SINS?
That’s a different kind of metronome
marking time over a head, while
a recidivist waits for his deal with God.
You ask those little girls and boys
who are divested of their childhood,
their pure innocence in
the most heinous ways -
if they think you deserve a deal with God,
while you look at photos of them being defiled,
or worse, you are in the filthy piece of Celluloid with them.
You ask those little girls and boys
who have been divested of their childhood,
their pure innocence in
the most heinous of ways,
who have been killed and thrown
like bags of rubbish somewhere -
if they think you deserve a deal with God.
You ask the families of all that have been
inflicted and their lives unalterably changed -
whether they think you deserve a deal with God.
They say there is no God.
Well, perhaps there isn’t.
Why would a just God let that happen?
“Suffer the little children” etc
What if God is truly “I Am”? And that
“I Am” is in you.
And the you that is lying there
concerned for your own remorse,
your own deal with God -
not the deal and mercy
a child deserves to be given by God
(even at this moment, somewhere in the world,
a child all alone crying out for…);
well, you just
turn over in the cot in your crib and cry like a baby,
thinking you are all alone.
What if God that is the "I Am"
could kick out of your body
the other lesser god, the god
that is the "I Isn’t"?
Is it possible at this point, I wonder?
I guess it depends on what stage of diarrhoea,
you’ve contracted.
Because when you get down to the
nuts and bolts of it,
this Life we have,
is all about Contracts.
The officer on duty knocks
opens your door hatch, and announces,
“You’ve got a visitor”.
You swing off the top level of the bunk
you’re dying of boredom in,
trying not to kick the other “effer” in the head
and you are let out of your crib.
You’re off to make your deal with God.
(Lovejoy-Burton/2017 Dec)
“MOTHER, is the name for God in the lips and hearts of little children” William Makepeace Thackeray
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7_bYLcTjnPA
Categories:
divested, abuse, addiction, child abuse,
Form:
Free verse
Genial to avoid confrontation
Baseborn kind, complaisant character
A spurious recital, a cheap imitation
Apocryphal mind, and comical creations
Counterfeited Christ
An unholy effusion
Sons of Belial
Clutch arcane knowledge
Esoteric information
Delve into oracular verse.
Deadened faith
Recondite belief denuded denials
Portentous and abstruse
Divested of the truth
Desolate road
Traveled day after day
Seriatim in miles
Strangled in hyperbole
Hypothetical noose
Cheaply loose
Tightening
methodically
Suicidal salvation
Covertly clandestine
Do what art wilt
Deliver the chosen
indoctrinate guilt
Derision to the destined
To learn love over hate
Adoration to inculcate
Imbue their sick lessons.
Categories:
divested, fire, hyperbole, identity, introspection,
Form:
Free verse
When I read Othello with my child’s eyes, I saw a master’s artistry at work;
Foul, devil plots, a hopeless love, a monster created but refused.
Victims and sinners alike debased, I saw worlds crushed and a giant fall.
Convinced of character and poetic muse, I was led through vague words to light passages.
When I read Othello with my adult eyes, I saw an artist bargaining with his theme;
His faceless blocks moved to a sympathy Mass,
Searching for learning I found divested acts, all meaning and diversity consumed;
My awareness full, so was I then led back and the subject failed.
As I reflect the reading of Othello: two journeys made, one path to follow;
A world was opened through my child’s eyes, for adult eyes to swallow.
Categories:
divested, childhood, feelings, journey, life,
Form:
Free verse
A bent knee ...
Cloaked in black nylon, a briny drop from
The smooth cheek, contingent baptism
For a closed hand, it's precious cargo,
Now consecrated by circumstance and
Fate, moments before this it was but
The root-stuff of weeds and worms,
Now the sacred repository for all words
Unsaid, all emotions unspeakable, all
Essences of parting. The earthy symbol
Of a concluded responsibility, elements
Of a soul displaced to the realm obliviate,
Gently fetched from the dark mound beside,
The loamy results of a somber chasm
Gouged from the grass like a war wound,
(Six feet deep). Hand trembling, the
Digits part and loose their dark cargo,
Meager clumps of rich soil tumble their
Way to the grave, bouncing into the
Somber cleft and clinking with little
Thumps on the polished wood vessel
Below, it's fine gold appointments glinting
Like sprites in the chill of mid-day brilliance.
A soft irregular drumming flows up from
The foramen as the soil reaches it's
Adamantine destination, like the sound
His fingers once made on the arm of
His favorite chair ... when impatience
Surged, or his twinkling eye anticipated
The regard of his beloved, her return
Gaze the reply to the soft cadence made,
Their furtive code to the corporeal
Reward to come. Countless such
Remembrances, now only JUST that.
This gentle thrumming made but sad
Sonance, a wordless requiem, final, the
Music of life and love shorn of it's sweet
Melody, divested and sacrificed to a
War half a world away, and a cause
And effort made as meaningless now
As the words just spoken, and the
Tear-stained hand, and the hallowed
Dirt set loose ...
To it's resting place.
Categories:
divested, appreciation, bereavement, grief, loss,
Form:
Free verse
The interrogation threatens to shudder like an earthquake
A long index of accusations spread out among the atmosphere like a blazing forest fire
Satisfaction, the officer and venomous umbrage, the criminal
Self-appreciation, the quiescent defense attorney with no right to be there
Misery, the boisterous dauntless prosecutor
The months of the annual calendar, the jury
Pain, the almighty judge
It’s a court case already divested from the defendant
Why should it not
Bother, why bother
Its past the millionth time in 216 divided by the jury
Satisfaction has seen countless rewards of capturing umbrage
Satisfaction has felt the boundless benevolence of glory
And foaming at the mouth, glowering with muffled respected fury
Sits umbrage, staring out blurred vision
Victimized in his own apperception
What’s the cost, the damage total; what has befell, befell reality
The anathema of fate or rather the favored affliction of fortune’s fool
Within a realm of possibility it may perceive to be both
A pebble laced with a thread thrown into grass only miles away
To be reeled right back in like a helpless fish on a line
The audacity, the audacity; oh just hush
Silence is golden and this silence is benevolent
Joy was once prevalent in the company of such disgrace umbrage reigned
Together they were serenity, a mixed graceful period of harmony
Such a song sung by dual owls in the presence of the lightened darkness of night
(sigh) …I can’t do this anymore
Make a world, create a story peacefully
Creating a plot circulating, tip-toeing around the issues placing bait in front of my eyes for me to take
What is wrong with me, my life
One word, a sharp enough blade to stab in the ankle to slaughter Achilles
In this case, me
The poet’s banishment, scourge creating a series of nine lashes
Still runs deep, refuses cessation
Proceeds to feed on every ounce of merriment to permeate through the cracks
Melancholy has produced to invade back in
What’s the cause this time for it to attack
A few simple words, reflection, swift defiance
the bruises upon the right appendage whispering, begging for more scars
FOR WHAT? ! ? ! ? ! ? !
Forget it….it’s nothing
Satisfaction has pardoned me, set me free
Umbrage, my twin has taken over me
To another bridge, we sit and sulk over a failed attempt at flight
Cause we willingly defy the right to say goodnight
Categories:
divested, conflict, confusion, corruption, identity,
Form:
Narrative
What “ matters” matter?
the why of things, the how?
If I spoke in an enlightened manner,
would you be convinced of my meaning?
Women cry out like children,
Stomping feet.
Misunderstood.
Belly dancing around issues.
Men stand stoic, offering the smile, a grain of stock.
Women die inside for this look.
Approval, conscript.
The moon causes a lunar reaction on the surface of the ocean.
Creating movement of water so vast;
it destroys a population.
Reset. Noah's Ark.
If lunar is to the Moon,
as waves are to the ocean,
How do two items suffering such distance quarrel to draw each other close?
Correlation.
We dance
We dance
We dance.
Never loving and loving only the act.
Spreading pathosis.
Nestling each other in the night.
Distilling tears on pillow cases that smell unsoiled.
Familial divisions, obscured children, betrayals.
Drawing close like lovers, absent the love.
Vulnerable, unavailable.
It was said by a wise man that all brave individuals
Have enemies.
Those with minimal ego offend.
Smug.
Are we brave or smug?
Divested with strangers we cry in the night,
Choosing to walk the week alone.
Friday night lights.
“Independent” is a buzzword.
An improper sort of adjective because I need and want you all at once,
One no more than the other.
Women love like water while men lay beside us,
Watching us sleep,
Immersed in the universe.
Capable and incapable.
Categories:
divested, angst, anxiety, aubade, betrayal,
Form:
Free verse
it'd be indefinable and unknown,
especially unknown! and these unknowns,
they'd complete us...
it'd start with a cosmic sentiment,
a serendipity that's bent
toward this infinite-in,
where love in a radiant bouquet
bursting to blossom would begin --
there, where there's a music in you
eager to play in a mellifluous-voice
which only the heart can hear,
and it'd take you into a melodious rhythm 'n roll,
a riff 'round the sound of a whirl'd
swelling with a kiss of bliss,
'tis this that'd speak in that uncommon tongue,
the Poetic one --
it'd risk absurdity in an u n f e t t e r e d language,
divested with an unbounded-eye,
(not limited to the fatal-skin yer' in,)
that'd look and look and dare to see,
the beauty of this conflicted sentimental-reality,
this creative-destruction outpouring
into the middle of things
where good Homer nods
over a potpourri that is the Art of Poetry
Categories:
divested, allegory, art, love, music,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
Beneath the down of evening tide awake without much rest
I listen to the sounds of silence, ticks, and wind and then
prayers are said, guardians called and blessed sleep's divested.
*Triplet
Categories:
divested, faith,
Form:
Verse
So very many amazing things
beauty of life tugs at heartstrings
the height a man can reach to
and glory when the gifts are true
Submission to the voices call
spectrum of talents given to all
a measure of each within it’s presence
remarkable joy in their pleasance
My Lord beneath you I bow
prostrate myself the view me allow
with praise for the knowledge I see
bounteous is the perception that be
Indwelling mankind genius you shower
capacity for splendor that you empower
Voices lifted to you in praise
that endow us grandeur within our days
Articulation of an heavenly song
woven tapestry whose fabric is strong
sculpture divested the works of hands
magnificent music produced in the lands
The filigree of crowns in artifice
in every skill produces things nice
who among us will credit you
that as children copy what you do
With lightening you so us inspire
and draw upon our inner desire
amongst the rocks and stones we gather
searching for life and loves that matter
Like a seamstress who gathers dreams
stitched together in close knit seams
clothing us in royal vesture
a grace given by your gesture
An architect who builds dream homes
music of heart practiced by tones
in gardens where rainbows live
diversity of presents in man you give
Sometimes I look at man and see your face
you build those who recognize your grace
little pieces of joy in such empty space
and so many have lost it’s trace
The adversary seeks to leave us dry
to dam the waters from our sky
and parch the land of God’s vision
to hold us all in his derision
COPYRIGHT © 2009 C. Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
Categories:
divested, beauty, bible, christian, creation,
Form:
Verse
fetishized lament
echoed
from colourfully besmeared winding sheet
devouring luminosity
become my pivotal infringement
vigorous luminosity
somethin' s wrong with her transcript
-they said, and put me behind iron pipes
my name dawned divested
and encapsulated in frame
of long time inhumed language
thus
soul
elastane woven
bends
every time words clash at those
indifferent barricades
this circle of life is fuc***
it cringes in parts it shouldn't
Danaans gift tried to conceal scenery
of birth given screenplay
they failed to excrement that light
clash became my attribution
yet they didn't let me to keep
any of that ordeal dust
they left me empty-handed
but emptiness brings happiness when filled
outage is divergent level of melancholy
undertone of this vanity named it pain
I call it a way of life
you got a thousand and one battle
war is mine
Categories:
divested, prejudice,
Form:
Free verse