Best Frangible Poems


Neon and Romance.

Sodden dripped of midnight words
A slurred plight 
Perhaps of tonight
Broken in the sobering dawn
In this smoky staleness
We meet in false courage
Eluding the touch 
The tenderness we cry for
Fearing heavy
Those frangible lovers
Remaining hidden
Behind bloodshot eyes
Masking the obvious veracity
Of a single hope 
A love repressed in the stupor
Of alcoholic comfort
Ever silently aching
In deadpanned hearts…

Slipping Upon a Crescent Moon

C antankerous and chimerical - comingle with my childlike charms.
 A morous and antagonistic - angel wings melt within my arms.
  N urturing and nostalgic - as I cradle one's frangible needs.
   C aress my curvaceous chasms - when shared confusion slowly bleeds.
    E ver evasive, always enticing - my heart may tease you; yet not tempt.
     R eminiscent and roseate - dancing with dreams not yet dreamt.






Author's Note:
Cancer - June 29th 19....
Sorry, my computer froze.
© John Heck  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Windfall

“Autumn is a second Spring
     when every leaf is a flower”

Albert Camus
French philosopher, author and journalist

WINDFALL

the wind-bell, the windflower
  the sturdy gong
    brisk breeze of anemones

the screen whips open
   frangible leaves whisk about
     autumnal bout on the deck

hollow limbs crack
   oaken surrender
      to pruning effect

the scent of cinnamon 
    mixed with aphrodisiacal pulp
       in the amber-lit kitchen

lilliputians of school age
      excitement of tiny twisters
         scuff up mom’s playground

fatherwind tossles her hair
       purple mood ring
          spurs smiles to each child

8/8/2019


Withering Hearts On An Emotional Departure

Withering hearts on an emotional departure 

We believe, you cannot guess
What we are about to say now.
It really does seem like yesterday
You were snuggled up in blanket in the bed
Listening a story about ‘wedding of ‘Hima Kumari’
And we still see you there listening interestingly
the saga
The memory of childhood will be as clear
in your mind as it is today
Parents never truly lose their children to adulthood
Because of their memories retain
those wonderful times for them

We will never, forget the day you were born.
That wonderful morning
Our house was filled with love and joy,
We had much bigger plans for your life
.
You are the greatest miracle
that we have ever been a part of,
And we want you to know how incredibly proud us
to have been chosen to be your dad and mum
You changed us, honey!

Oh!  Our dearest daughter,
Your wedding day will befall soon
How the time flew just as a feather; 
from little gown decorated a teddy bear, 
to a wedding sari worn in customary facet
you cannot know
how much frangible our hearts
When we feel that you will forsake us
Little princes that grow to become a woman
to loving parent; she is always their pretty little daughter, 
even after she make them grandparent
The marriage will make you independent
from your parent
There is your partner to partake joy and sorrow
In the journey of new life
Even though, don’t forget, us
Whenever you need, we’ll be there
If your heart is broken,
Or if you are consumed with worry
Please come to us and share your burden

If, no hands on the handlebars,
Or deranged awful convulsions
You can come to us
and we know
You have much of your own to look forward
Remember, we cannot shield you from life’s ups and downs;
But we have prepared you for the rollercoaster ride ahead.

Jayaratne . Weerakkody

Entropy Peon Gnaw Real Chaotic Poet

theorizes, surmises, realizes, outlandish notions 
   manifesting jibberish inside frangible egghead,
especially when attempting tip ply words struggling 
   to describe abstract whims fed
by fancy,  groovy, heady indefinable 
   mind boggling ideas they weigh like a led
zeppelin inside gray matter squeezed 

   to the max like a sponge dark red
when saturated with near incomprehensible 
   thought processes that attempt to shed
light on cosmic principles, yet lack 
   mathematical familiarization wed
did with advanced studies in astrophysics (trace
sing pinball erratic mental reverberations
   leaves me stupified about mysteries of space
time continuum, quantum mechanics, 

   and even how my existence came about 
   since the presence of human race
whereat random 
   evolutionary circumstances took place
on planet (un) fit Earth analogous 
   to skien woven of sateen lace

via some invisible hand weaving 
   world wide webbed warp and sub woof 
   fur wrought primordial miracles 
   ranked (within schema by human primates) 
   as zen amazingly grace
full promenade, 
   per multivarious species, now one Janus face
sing self destruction duet hoo 

   weapons of mass destruction can erase
entire range comprising terresrial biota 
   unable to escape original weeknd update 
   with Jane Curtain, and Chevy Chase,
and according to Stephen Hawking the base
sic global web spun via *****Sapiens 
   will lose role as topdog 
   ousted from twittering, spotifying reddit queue 
   over stayed plenti potentiary pinnacle, 
   oracle outlook netzero for mankind as ace

forced to relinguish role, 
   sans self anointed supreme beast
(what a beauty this bipedal hominid), 
   whose surging population didst increased
the process toward total vaporous xfinity zapped – 
   frankly tubby sub letted and leased
to another organism 
   not needing tubby policed.

Traducent

Traducent are we who speak with slivery truth
With silver fork tongues we malign the disclosure
Slanderous are we who act suasive and choose
The obduse of wealth, power, and fortune

In the overture of madness we play in absolute confusion
Vexing, beckoning with their temptations
Plausive are we to the eyes of the wicked
With frangible gists and terrible mindedlessness

Not a poor soul saved, not another guilt grasp
Ignominiously felt, and despodence lasts
All overawed with the overwhelming avarice
And lo the kings of the foul and the underlings


My Basket

As i begin the journey once again
I picked someone after the bloody rain
Ambiguous treated me with disdain
releasing wounds from diagram of pain

The frailty i saw is compared to feign
Please betoken all my trust you must gain
Extreme discomfort you made me insane
Wish i am strong but im weak and so drained

I cannot forget my frangible brain
The brutal ax is killing me again
Fathomless turmoil forever remains
Love is obstinate so hard to sustain

Perhaps a true love will never complain
Inquisitive heart always unchain
But my shattered heart can never restrain
So tired to carry the basket of pains

The Secret of Emotional Mist



The Secret of Emotional Mist

Evincing nothing, she remained mute
To nuanced intimations of intimacy.
There was nothing left to conclude but that
The greatest prison is boredom,
The greatest torture --- betrayal.

Thus we parted in the concrete now
Leaving behind that nebulous separation
We had shared almost as if a secret,
	Venturing towards precious.

Just as an ill-fashioned keystone
can splinter upon contact if
timing is precise...
Why is it that Time seems to know just
When to strike?
Always. 
Leads me to believe
That if Time is not anthropomorphic
 	it is nonetheless prescient
No. That can't be right...
Time predates and outlives all
(has already outlived us all).
Romantics claim other yet I
Dare gainsay them each and every

Spirit can be broken 
	like glass
Love become mere bagatelle,
Children, still tuned to magic,
laugh at us as we follow our own
Shades to the underworld of
Wonderment and wonder
	How did I ever believe
The intangible was not frangible?

Authentic Vs Fake and Shiny

undocumented bona fide lyric writer
very extraordinarily real
also buttery brown bathed in genuine poverty 
unlawfully kept under change of invariability
willfully writing human unlawfully and lawfully man made particulars
with frangible dainty legislating to keep safe all that is mine 
  
so how can you know who's 
Authentic vs fake and shiny

Inferno


Shards of words 
smashed against a wall, 
an exploding nova 
of raw emotions 
that had once been
a systemized order 
of frangible letters, 
Cataclysmic dispersion 


Fiery projectiles 
of quasar syllables 
scatter haphazardly, 
littering 
sterile tile floor.. 

Cold, bloody 
rivulets of anger 
run thickly 
red 
to create 
a dark, staining 
puddle, 
seeping deep 
into 
cracks.

That Ant

THAT ANT
That frangible small thing
Is it plausible poor thing?
To puddle, wade then die?
You labour without respite
Yet you never tire
For many days you built a hill
With the rest of your race you took to toil
But that turbid giant crushed it underfoot
Nothing daunted, in a spate, another was afoot
How obstinate is your optimism?
And how shallow depths your anger’s chasm!
Today I saw you struggle up that wall
Hard upon the unrelenting facade’s toll
Again and again like your life’s prize
Tumbling yet ever again but again to rise
Oh, how you stupefy even those wise
Not twice but again, and again twice
You moved a little to the right and again
And at once you scaled to the plain
And as you hurried away on the flat
I bid my guru of the hardest art

Inside Out

The face is still,
the personhood a mask 
and from outside, there is no door. 

The world slows down,
its voice as if a worn down tape
devoid of presence, drifting,
lost in its pursuit of time;
it is a galaxy of strangeness
where a breath of lonesome melancholy
would relieve, but still the wind forgets.

How taciturn, outside,
how churning is the turmoil from within.
How resolute,  the longing of the sperm
to tear into the heart
and liberate its glory or its agony,
its oratorio to God, its plaintive hope for love.

How curious indeed, upon its evanescent throne
is love, still innocent of thrusting light,
still hopelessly naive
before the pounding hooves that heroes ride;
how frangible its shell! 

Millenia preserve their heroes very well,
although their colors bleed
upon the pages that we read,
upon our inner souls when we allow them,
though the face,
yes most certainly the face,
is cold and still.
              ~

That Ant

THAT ANT
That frangible small thing
Is it plausible poor thing?
To puddle, wade then die?
You labour without respite
Yet you never tire
For many days you built a hill
With the rest of your race you took to toil
But that turbid giant crushed it underfoot
Nothing daunted, in a spate, another was afoot
How obstinate is your optimism?
And how shallow depths your anger’s chasm!
Today I saw you struggle up that wall
Hard upon the unrelenting facade’s toll
Again and again like your life’s prize
Tumbling yet ever again but again to rise
Oh, how you stupefy even those wise
Not twice but again, and again twice
You moved a little to the right and again
And at once you scaled to the plain
And as you hurried away on the flat
I bid my guru of the hardest art

Premium Member Frangible

The feeling of fragility is precious,
But it demands emotional mortality.
A longing for something so distant,
Emotions unfounded and absent.
Hold me and I may break.
Kiss me and I may die.

Premium Member ALLUSIONS OF A VANISHED NOW

ALLUSIONS OF A VANISHED NOW*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
stainless-steel womb
welded shut, 
buried beneath the oak's gnarled roots,
remnants given to the earth.

allusions of a vanished now~
faded sepia photographs,
a girl's clumsy drawing of herself,
a compact disc, its molded plastic brittle,
a mix of forgotten summer love songs.

headlines tell of wars, violence, and bloodshed 
tidings of momentary joys~
the scent of potpourri, a best-selling book, 
a poem scribbled on frangible parchment,
a smooth, grey river rock,
pocketed on some long-ago walk
treasured remembrances.

When unearthed decades from now,
will future inquirers understand
the echoes,
the desires, 
the fears, 
the loves,
invisibly etched in these ordinary relics?

Will they see us in the dust motes dancing
in the beam of their curious light?
Or will it all just be
a mysterious puzzle,
a murmur,
quickly forgotten,
returned to the earth's clutches?

*Note: Poem published 6/27/2025 then deleted; (Poetrysoup.com/poem/allusions_of_a_vanished_now_1737437) This is my original pom

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace