Best Duress Poems
Living in the shire;
Searching for that ring;
You may have found a lot of things;
But you never kept a thing.
You hid behind a bush;
While purpose you compiled;
Disguised yourself as innocent;
But the dung you left was vile.
And in the fires of your yesterdays;
In the crackles you may hear;
You may live defensively;
But you’ll never beat the fear.
How can people in war ravished countries
Ever think about anything else
Can any one of these tortured souls
Ever sit down and write poetry
And if they can, could they ever write about happiness
Would their poems only be about killing and destruction
Or could their humble spirits rise above the turmoil
And write about a different, happier world
It is something I've often thought about
I would hope that the human spirit would prevail
But I can't imagine it would under such duress
It would take a very special soul
That could rise above these horrible conditions
I would be interested to read something
From any brave soul that could manage
In spite of their situation, to come forward
And express the anxieties but as well
The incredible human spirit that shines through
I wait with great anticipation!
© Jack Ellison 2014
DRESS FOR DREADFUL DURESS
The lady’s largesse did not this gent impress
Nor did the dress she donned with damnable disgrace
A woman whose embrace embodies deception’s face
While her grievous grace invades an otherwise sanctified space
With speciousness as a specialty to which she is inclined
A figure defined by the divine and the unceremoniously unkind
Beauty that makes a beleaguered beau beg to become blessedly
blind
That her loveliness should not lengthily linger within his sight
For cursed was my every negligible negligee night
As doomed was I to the distinction and distraction of undiluted delight
A body blighted by the misery of a misbegotten romance bound
And a chance at forever finally found
But summarily and so sorrowfully lost
At an extremely exorbitant and exclusively excessive cost
Because the woman is an exquisite extortionist,
contortionist
and abortionist
Coercing me with consternation,
contorting the facts with falsification
and aborting what I believed was begotten by the blessing of her being
a woman who was unreceptive to the aggrandizement of her ever agreeing
and the damnation her deceptiveness was decreeing
the lady’s largesse was a casual caress and a careless disregard
for the comfort of her escort
with my concept of continual calm as a consequence of cohabitation to abort
while she treated my concerns as some kind of senseless sport
Yet and still I continued the game only under undeniable duress
and still I insist that the lady’s largesse did not this gent impress
© 2012...copyright...PHREEPOETREE…..~free cee!~
I stay up all night and away I fly,
To the field in which to me, you convoked your goodbye.
I’m standing in a flowing white dress,
My ankles deep in rose-colored duress,
And I stumble without you to catch me.
And I never stop falling.
But sometimes there’s a falter in the way that I feel,
And for a moment everything is quiet.
The sky turns black and you disappear,
But still in the field I wait for you, right here.
Because waiting for you is like waiting for rain in a drought,
Disappointing without a singular doubt,
But still giving me the comfort of hope.
So i think that I’ll stay,
Standing in this white dress,
Ankle-deep in rose colored duress.
For waiting for rain is better than dry leaves,
Sinewy and weak, catching the first lick of flame.
Waiting for you and hoping you'll come back,
To remind me that I’m alone in a room full with people,
For deep down we know that right for you, I’m not.
I’ll stay in the field looking for the girl,
Who left me in the cold, frozen to the bone,
Clutching my own hand in a desperate attempt to feel less alone.
Theres all so much and so less in me..
My eyes and my heart
are but reckless youth
Shouldnt you wonder for a moment
before burdening it so
Quite a lot of you
Weighs my dear heart,
down like an anchor
Shame that it Seldom grounds
What that is about you
The pondering is long and listless
The something that gnaws at my heart incessantly and
leaves it all cold and in peril
Oh to gather you
and all your colours and rhymes
Till forever ceases, if i could
The smile such of
the breeze
in summers harsh beating
It hurts, this malady of hearts
But you just walk by
And i,
Have tides ,
ebbing back and forth my chest
Waves of bliss bidding farewell
Id clutch and grasp at the migrant waters
Theyd slip right out,
drag me behind
for just a little stretch
Then leave,
no words for the orphan at the sands
You're out of arms reach,
Sweet sanctum of serenity,
An island that dwells in dreams
And our destiny is
of the twisted stars
and a frayed red twine...
My Own Undoing
Coursing through an unknown milky way ???. Well, that's my fate. Were we not born to succeed?
This and many more should be answered, blatantly, if not unequivocally.
I am me, and you, should be you.
How far do we go to establish a point of un-duress? We should be cunning, as well as kind with our "Knowing" (Knowledge).
So let's be fortunate in radically Undoing our own
Thank you.
By Asangalisah Akantere Isaiah
was under duress
never approved of her dress
had been a big mess