Best Epicentre Poems


Boys Don'T Cry

Boys don't cry,
I felt my soul collapse and concave into a black hole located in the epicentre of my white heart. 
They never told us that when you let pain nibble on your sanity you lose yourself to the gluttony of pain. 
They never told us that pain never seeps out from the pores of hope,
Or that thick ropes make for comfortable ties that clog up pain from condemning your head.

Boys don't cry,
They only taught us to seal tight the bottle that encages our emotions so that they can live like freedom-deprived animals in these cages.
They told us to drown in shallow glistening pools of tears that defy the laws of gravity,
Taught us to be barbarians and never display weakness on our plain faces.

But they should have told us that
Boys do cry.
Maybe it will take time to unfasten the 'nots' of society but until then...
Boys do not cry, they simply sweat through their eyes
Categories: epicentre, cry,
Form: Free verse

Traversing the Lucky Country

Exploring the suburbs at Melbourne
Glad are the late nights’ burnt

Bustling Bourke Street Mall
Epitome of a retail therapy’s call

The archaic Flinder’s Station
Scheduling warrants attention

Cho-chooing to Sydney
Never costs a kidney

The surmountable Clothes Hanger
Climbing it is not a head-banger

The romantic Sydney harbour
Releases lovers’ masquerade and cover

The stunning Opera House
Pit stop onwards to the south

The flora of the Botanical Garden
Seemingly children running at kindergarten 

The national parks of Wollongong
Hitting the musical notes of the gong

Rekindling memories of Bosman’s Bay
Is a paradise comes what may

Forgoing the isle of Tasmania
That would be the fear of Cradle Mountain mania

In the southern city of Hobart
Where we could relish a tart

Sailing off to Perth
That was never my berth

Discovering the untouched Fremantle
Goes to show an adventurer’s mantle

Diving the Great Barrier Reef
Provides a temporary relief

Coasting the white beaches of Gold Coast
The locals are but good hosts 

Annihilated by the waves of the Pacific
Almost make thee panic

Crisscrossing the plains of Adelaide
Part of the best plans’ laid

Allure of the Red Centre
Australia’s stunning epicentre

In the midst of a red desert
Harbour hopes to return and not divert

Discovering the monumental Alice
Go head to head with some malice

Sailing across Katherine’s Gorge
The fissures is a sight to watch

The northern tip of Darwin
Just like the pinnacle wanting to win

Ode to the Northern Territory
A journey of national geographic really

Viva the land of Oz
Paradise and grandiose she was
Categories: epicentre, holiday, red, kindergarten,
Form: Enclosed Rhyme

Premium Member Five Point Eight On the Richter Scale

They say there's a first time for everything

My first time ever feeling the unsettling effects of an earthquake

Albeit, it was ONLY 5.8 on the Richter Scale

It happened during our holiday in Punta Cana, Dominican Republic

We were roughly 60 km from the epicentre

But still found it a little unsettling to say the least

The locals didn't even break a sweat

They experience on average 150 of them a year

However there was definitely some rocking 'n rolling going on

At first I thought it was one of those people movers going by

Transporting folks around the resort

Then realized... YIKES!

That was a FREAKING EARTHQUAKE!!!

All's well that ends well

And I'm still alive to tell my tale!

Great place to vacation but you wouldn't wanna live there!


© Jack Ellison 2014
Categories: epicentre, holiday, natural disasters,
Form: Narrative

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member The Nurse To the Patient (To Jackie R.I.P)

I only had a glmpse of you - 
a glimpse, the night before you died: 
A once beautiful lady, still beautiful, 
preparing to die - such grace, such poise. 

There was an aura about you - 
an aura of peace and serenity. 
No fear.  No expression of anxiety. 
just a deep committed faith, a knowledge. 

We shared a secret you and I. 
We shared a hug; a tranquil moment. 
Not knowing, yet knowing so much, 
saying little except by look or touch. 

No last rites - no time. 
No consecrated bread or wine. 
No oil to annoint or prayers 
to guide you home - just me....... 

Just me, sitting with you on your bed. 
Just a stranger's hand to hold, 
yet nothing strange - 
A deep unspoken understanding, 

A unity of spirits.  A conjoining of souls. 
You touched my heart with your grace. 
Your eyes penetrated my intrinsic epicentre 
and imprinted in my mind, your face. 

When I heard you'd gone I wept inside - 
I didn't know you, why? 
Death is no stranger to me 
I meet it every day - 

Yet sometimes, a departing soul pauses for a while, 
and there's a glimpse, a clue, 
like you when you were still here - or there 
when you were in death's waiting room. 
Strangely, I was too.
Categories: epicentre, inspirational,
Form: Epitaph

A Visit In Munich, Germany

What a sight to behold! A home to immigrants,
a spectacular city rolled with a wealth of arts!
predominantly Catholic with its many facets
its historical resonance and genesis of existence.

While it’s a welcome contrast from other countries,
there’s evidence that it’s replete with triumph and fall;
just after Bolzano, Trento, Rovereto, Verona Porta Nuova, 
Peschiera del Garda, Desenzano della Garda-Sirminione and Brescia.

That from Milan Central Station the train arrives in Monaco.
Indeed, I was so impressed to see the main city
its combined history and culture; a satisfaction
just on the horizons they gave me an enormous impression
to the so-called civilization that München defines its soul.

Churches can be found almost in every corner
with their baroque or lavish rococo architecture, 
some artifacts and gothic designs in some parts
in the eye of the beholder, they’re indeed a treasure.

People from all walks of life converge at the epicentre
the bustling footpaths, crowded shops and restaurants
with families from Dubai, Abu Dhabi and Pakistan
Asians or other Europeans in common desire
this place holds a promise for future and families.

Germans in general, love to drink and hang out with friends
a place like Hofbräuhaus where huge crowds can be found
a good description, the best picture to recall.
Deutsch, the language spoken but difficult to learn
gave me an impression of its beauty in articulation.
With their conventional greetings like in many other cultures
respect is the by-word along with courtesy and reason.
like the Olympic Park, Marienplatz, Nymphenburg palace, 
English Garden, Königsplatz and many other sights
They’re beautiful places steeped with history and connection
to the people of München who love their own culture.

I may not be keen about other European cuisines
however, as  a person drawn to taste them all
with a sweet tooth I couldn’t resist a typical German version
of the American pancake served in the morning
kaiserschman, its name and it’s common to all.
Categories: epicentre, friendship, imagination, introspection, life,
Form: Narrative

To Split the Seconds

In the middle of the universe, I stand
deep in my chamber of death, resurrected
with no recollection of the life before
no memories of past civilizations
          no planets, no comets, no Ra

In this dark vastness, my pyramid is a spaceship 
launched from the Sahara desert, seeking companionship
carrying the hieroglyphics to map the cosmos
pointing to infinity from this epicentre
          guided by an interstellar compass

I peer into the vacuum through the ventilation shaft
into the continuum with no soul insight, no stars right or left
I stand alone, unconscious and omnipresent as a GodKing
surrounded by silence and confusion, 
          I break down the walls with a big bang!

My complexion bares lashes of solar winds and sandstorms
my scarred eye sockets carry two insignificant helium atoms
they split into magnifisance to allow me instant sight, with a profound vision
with time stretching, with no hesitation, 
         from nothing take to the force of gravitation 

To recreate anew, my ultimate universe
to set in motion galaxies and create a new paradise
to start a perfect system based on irrefutable laws of physics 
pouring out light into the empty, dark space, 
          at the speed of light, to split the seconds
Categories: epicentre, science fiction, stars, universe,
Form: Rhyme


Widened Eyes White

Perspiration beads my beleaguered brow,
running in rivulets down cheeks aglow.
A hazy miasma the air does plough,
electric energy begins to flow. 

Distant rumblings, crowned palm trees start to shake,
gorgeously lush green fronds partner their dance.
Waves rippling the ground harbinger earthquake,
eerie silence, then lightning’s jagged lance.

An earth shrieking crescendo tears dark skies,
a tsunami of sound deafens each mind.
Birds of Paradise scream with fearful cries,
as two tectonic plates viciously grind.

Silence resumes, a young friend lifts his head,
widened eyes white within a dusky den.
I speak, “See brother we live we’re not dead,
dispela wantok bilong Jackson Ken.” 


Footnotes:
I lived in Papua New Guinea for four years in the 1990’s.
The earthquake was 6.5 on the Richter scale, epicentre within 50 mile away.
Jackson Ken is a young Papua New Guinean man whom I befriended and who ended 
up working for the company that I was managing. 
The last line is Pidgin English, widely spoken in P.N.G., its root bases are German, 
Dutch and ‘modified’ English. It basically means that this fellow/man (dispela, which 
is me) is a cousin brother (wantok, usually associated with another member of your 
own village) belonging (bilong) to Jackson Ken.
Categories: epicentre, nature, people, placesbrother, brother,
Form: Quatrain

Fashioned In Heaven,Realized On Earth

Two love birds collide
Different world
Different cities
Different colour
A tale of two cities

Like a 
cinderella 
story...

The groom 
chocolatey
The bride 
lights up

What an 
attraction
Between 
Unlike 
poles...

When the 
chocolate 
enters
The bride 
lights up his 
world

He said he 
loved her
He pursued 
determinedly
He was 
focused 
and
 patient....
And he got 
his "Prize"...

As the day 
drew nigh...
For the walk 
on the aisle
Everyone in 
high spirits...
Preparations 
all the way..
To make it a 
day 
Dat lasts 
long in the 
memory

Trumpets 
blowing..
Drums 
banging
Dancers 
strutting 
their stuff
 
 Standstill...the 
order of the 
day
All nooks 
and 
crannies 
filled

For just two 
people
Destined to 
be *father 
and mother*
Of many 
nations*

Union that 
has been 
God- 
ordained  
To 
transform 
and mould 
lives
With Jesus 
at the 
Epicentre..

The rivers of 
excitement 
flows 
through my 
bloodstream
Now its a 
month of 
God-fulfilled 
promise
Tick tock 
says the 
clock....
A month in 
no time
Will lead to 
a year
And to a 
decade....
Double 
decades...
and 
many more
If Jesus 
tarries....

God will 
*jinki* you 
with seeds
 That will 
continue 
your vision...
And your 
parental 
roles fulfilled
You shall 
not lax
 in 
your 
responsibilities
To 
yourselves....
And seeds....

You are an 
eagle
Destined to 
soar...
You shall 
shine...
Brighter 
than the sun
You shall 
walk with 
God
 Like never 
before

   *jinki* 
yoruba word 
for enrich...
(An 
indigenous 
language in 
nigeria)
Categories: epicentre, best friend,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Final Dissolution

Gale force winds have blown away the top of his skull

Impaled by a fallen tree with the prison of his mind exposed

Tim’s pierced splintered and dismembered fragments

mash freely with mushed grey matter ready for take off


A lobotomy of sorts a wholesale removal of a vanishing soul


‘Do not worry, this too will pass you cannot fight nature’

but his thoughts and emotions are lost in oblivion and void


‘After thunder comes the rainbow’ but his colours have faded

Blank paint on black canvass and no light in havoc and pain


‘Take those pills they are pink orange purple and yellow’ yet

braindead waves guts gore pillage and plunder have followed 

the storm and Tim lies numb naked dissected and ruptured


Electro-convulsion as last resort has failed as the straight jacket

burst at its motionless seams and beams have nailed him to a cross

and cross fire frying lightning and thunder into hot ashes and gashes

Angels found no right nor rite of passage with all traffic suspended


The eye of the storm's euphemism in contempt of torrential calm

as a mental Hiroshima engulfs him at the epicentre of destruction

Fully enshrined in atomic radiance Tim has neither time nor energy

left for the I-Self in tempest’ turmoil and blesses his very own death
Categories: epicentre, depression,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Our Country-Earth Which Is of Your Size

Notre terre qui est à Votre taille
Forgive us please our enormous bilious hubris
The quasar-lit heavens smile only down upon us
For Our Master he presideth over the Universe

Our Architect-Father he beds down in the blackest holes
Our temple bells and lodges’ knell toll only for Thee
While Thou slips from one parallel universe to another
Yeah, notre terre qui est à Votre taille

The muezzin’s cry reaches far into the darkest cloud
From turret to galactic turret resounds the prophetic call
Colliding antennae make a murky Baghdad morass
The fallout heralds the bigcrunchy messianic massage

Our Master who art the shine on the Brahmin’s head
Which knows no limbs feet chest nor shivering loins
Forgive us our cowering at the spewing Purusha mouth
For Thine is the thunder exploding forever and ever

Did not a bodhi prince once keep a damning silence
He saw no need to undo Thy mighty male tie
Lest he’s forced to traverse this soil again in rags
Notre terre qui est à Votre taille

As for the other fully bearded nodding mates
They are those who first invoked Thy game
They’ve now bought the world over in Thy name
But prefer to run the banks ‘ere Thou cutteth the rates

Notre terre qui est à Votre taille
Is the epicentre of the roiling boiling might
Where domes echo for the right to languish at Thy side
And watch the Goya geek chew the heathen to shreds

Notre terre qui est à Votre taille
All the stars you see out there in the ever-ever
Are but the conjurer’s balls dancing up in the air
The illusory waking dream of the never-never

Notre terre qui est à Votre taille
Give us every day the fireworks in the sky
For Thine is the show and ours the joy
For ever and ever spinning a lie !

T.Wignesan, November 3, 1997, Fresnes-Paris (Rev. 2012, Paris)

From: T. Wignesan
Copyright ©: T. Wignesan, rev. November 3, 1997 (from the collection: longhand notes (a binding of poems), 1999.
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: epicentre, faith, satire, november, universe,
Form: Light Verse

The Aftermath

Struck nine on Richter scale, seismic waves so       
                                                                       cruel and wild
From epicentre, shot in circles and created
                                                                     immense terror
Wrath of earthquake, none could escape- be it a
                                                           child or to- be bride

Lives lost, families shattered with every devastating
                                                                                      tremor
Sky-scrapers, schools, heritage buildings, homes
                                                     reduced to mere rubble
Catastrophe of this kind, sent down the spine
                                                      shivers of intense fear

This place lost links from rest of the world like a 
                                                                vanishing bubble
State forces and rescue teams rushed to help and
                                                                save with verve
Shrouded this place, smell of death ; sounds of    
                                        pain- cries, screams, grumble

Reached here, medical aid, food, blankets and
                                              people with will to serve
In fond remembrance, flowers , cards, candles 
                                           placed for souls departed
Prayers made to the Supreme power, to restore
                                                      peace and conserve

These jolts are Mother Earth's cues to remind that 
                                  man is not the only celebrated
Reins of control of this globe still lay in her hands
                             and man needs to stay grounded!!
© Anu Nayak  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: epicentre, anger, earth, holocaust,
Form: Terza Rima

Napoleon's Love Letter To the Empress Josephine

I knew my heart had been set alight with passion,
that memorable day I cast my very eyes on thee.
Your slightest rebuff to my endless advances
would pose a more formidable challenge to me
than Europe's invincible combined vast army.
The day you unlocked the sealed entrance to thine heart,
was like opening the world's palatial epicentre.
The access you gave me to your love's citadel,
was like the lofty achievement of a world conquest.
Categories: epicentre, love,
Form:

'irreplaceable'

Irreplaceable!

This world that I know of, is, - 'the family's' living room,
visitors, weaving fabrics of many designs in this loom!
Generations searched, yet - still unaware 'where from'!
But, established a relationship and a working decorum!

Every equation made in, been reproduced or morphed,
every working dimension thence, replaced or swapped!
All of it is just titular, that has to move-on and change,
from moment to moment in time, but, that ain't strange!

Environment rolls-on, all over playing perfunctory a role,
inducing circumstances, staving us - off from our goal!
Mind incessantly vying, measure-up for one's relevance,
forming opinions, judgements, ever claiming prominence!

Change is constant, in all animate and inanimate forms,
transforming all and sundry, the most basic of all norms!
Nothing and no one can ever be exempted from this code,
delve deep-in to realise - its a commonly travelled road!
 
Seers looked around for and searched, in ways accessible,
looking for something or that someone, ever, 'irreplaceable'!
Gleaned, it is not about the world that's 'visible and invisible'!
but, the noumenal presence to look for, almost untraceable!

Raise questions obversely beyond, about time and space,
transcending our temporal, the mind and intellect's chase!
Thinking, not on 'the thought' or about 'the physical thinker',
transfix thyself on 'urge', the one that prompts 'the thinker'!

Going past layers after layers with a single minded focus,
you will stumble upon 'I' - 'the Self' amidst all as one locus!
In a trance, enthralled in an all encompassing bliss 'n' joy,
discover 'That' - 'the Irreplaceable', an epicentre of all ploy!
© Ram Ram  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: epicentre, allusion, how i feel,
Form: Quatrain

You

Dedicated to the best poet of us all.


I dive into you
The mud-coloured heaven
Fragments embracing with age
A dull rock and hammer shadow

Your small mouth
Free and feline with words carrying
The strength of the cartillage they cling
to. Ochre barnacles, love letters
In their cordless vowels
Unrounded and rolled off the tongue
Like liquid.
The many monsoons inward

I woke dull in my ditch this brown 
Morning, and only an hour since
The epicentre has starved cotton-thin.
I see it before me as a road
Passing longingly into forever
With the dull mists of dead grey
And slow greens of the blue
Bleeding flow of the water's
Nurtured body. 

Numbed by only one vowel bursting in
The red-emblem face of another
Rising on thin strings like pearls
So many lifeless words
The only satellites on an otherwise
Starless day.
Categories: epicentre,
Form: Free verse

The Road 1

The road
is
       Death's open yawn
epicentre
of strange treaties-
mist of starched martyrs
in trajectory's startled
steep,
mangled contortions
in frozen screams
Categories: epicentre, confusion, death, loss,
Form: Lyric
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