Best Impending Poems
Brain is crackling, crisp, ivory bone dry
Gremlin stuffing cotton behind my eyes
Head begins to swell with torpidity
Vivid mind fading to transparency
Internal membranes breaking down
Thoughts run a deep molasses brown
'Tween thought and motion, expanding rift
Act of sheer will, the body to lift
Limbs grow wooden, ready to fall
Seek out the blessed horizontal
Cover exhaustion with soft frayed quilt
Self-indulgent moment’s guilt
Serotonin sleep dump almost disappointing
Blessed moment of irresponsibility ending
Leaden lids descend on eyes
Fading into a sky blue paradise
3/25/16
The corona virus has crippled the
Economy and the nation
It seems to be on a death trip
Killing everyone it comes
In contact with
With several businesses having to
Closed their doors temporarily
Creates several problems
Like a recession
Businesses can’t pay the workers
If they’re not at work
How will people pay their bills
And have a roof over their heads
It’ll cause people to be homeless
It’s already taken away our social life
Causing people to feel like
Tuna in a can
It’s becoming worse and wide spread
That the shelves in stores are empty
With the items we need the most
Wipes and hand sanitizer
With a deadly virus upon us
Plus the start of a recession and
Hurricane season coming up
What’s to become of us now
Pray and pray hard
Even though it looks bad
Don't lose your faith
For decades now we've swam, we've played
and on the grass, in sunshine laid.
A haven for our meditations
visited by our many generations.
Pristine beauty, nature's pride,
and now, bereft, tears we've cried.
To be destroyed, torn asunder.
Governments decree, a total blunder.
Safety issues is their claim,
so our park they now defame.
This decision, we don't understand,
upcoming destruction of community land.
Other solutions they will not hear.
Their stubbornness abundantly clear.
We now say goodbye to memories
of wandering through paths of trees
beside the lakes of childhood life.
Their idea of progress cuts like a knife.
For decades now we've swam and played
and on the grass, in sunshine laid.
A haven for our meditations
that's been stolen from future generations.
rainbow sky
in the distant
impending weather
**Quatern**A French form, four quatrain poem similar to the Kyrielle and the Retourne.
The first line repeats, each stanza in different locations! I like it because the refrain
adds depth and structure!
Impending Changes
Alluring, these pending changes
Everything could fall into place
This heart that has seen much patience
Still, there are steps I need to take
Achieve success, I can't rush fate!
Alluring, these pending changes,
Excitement slowing my heart rate.
Test my theory with vacation!
Paid time off gives motivation,
Decided, once the weather breaks!
Alluring, these pending changes
Tired of normal, I want great!
Stressed, searching for my happy place.
Different, in vision. Ambitious!
Lived to long in fear, my mistake,
Alluring, these pending changes!
Jared Pickett
Asavvy1
2/10/2014
Cup does runneth
over, rhyme inside'a
me at last, was
barren and so
empty til inside
there drops a
splash,
of rich poetic
potions mixed with
collard greens and
hash, let's picture
hours after the
economy has
crashed.
The whole world
saw it coming on
our back;
impending doom,
so don't believe the
newsroom talk of
how it's ending
soon,
it's not just pipin hot
it's burnin 3 degrees
from noon, but won't
be real until you
hear this nation
sing the blues.
We'd lose the
government's
assistance, it would
be no joke, the
unemployment,
welfare food stamps
gone, there'd be no
hope,
come slice this
mental Wonder
bread then sit and
eat a loaf, there
wouldn't be much
growth around at all
to feed the folks.
The homeless
though do lay their
heads by where I
catch the train, the
richest country in
the world can't help
them, that's a
shame,
but multiply the
handful by the
millions that'll hang,
their heads in
shame with no
economy, yo that's
the game.
The President's
approval ratings
dwell where cellars
be, the days
of 'meat for dinner'
gone, no sales on
celery,
and that's for those
of us who're
blessed with God's
defining truth, or go
out like the 30s
where we'd stand in
line for soup.
A real life 'Book Of
Eli', ain't no gas to
run the cars, your
feet would beat
retreats in cold and
heat to run you far,
in fact if the
economy did end
up true deceased, I
guarantee you'd find
those selling kids
for food to eat.
The loss of all
morality heats up
like yellow sand, to
witness inhumanity
defeat your fellow
man,
brutality and
savag'ry would grip
this very land, to
have the cleanest
water or a bit of
DairyLand.
It then would turn to
war amidst the
races and the
creeds, Apollo died
while boxing, folks
like that are safe
and free,
majority's priority,
minorities would fall, they'd
light us up Paul Mall
in other words they'd bomb
us all.
Scenarios are
worse case but I'm
not that wrong at
all, so fellas stuffing
dollars in the
thongest of the
draws,
and ladies who just
live to go and ball
out at the mall,
enjoy it, stand up
tall and pray to God
it all don't fall.
All our systems will break down
and planes will fall from the sky.
Plagues will stalk the land and
it is hard to stop the hysteria for
it quickens the blood and feeds
all the addictions.
It gives us excuses for
not doing what we should
which in turn
makes systems fail
and hysteria advance.
Even the calmest amongst us
must sense some indecision
and wonder if it is some
frivolous compulsion or
the beginning of a
great shake out,
a cleansing of a species
gone psycho.
In our lemming soul do some run
towards disaster, off the cliff,
that others may survive?
And on the day after,
in the calm of a setting sun,
do we congratulate ourselves for
not being part of the madness,
knowing that we were.
Daytime swelter
Crest of hill smoky with water cloud
Rain imminent
© r.k.chakrabarty
7 Nov 2014
Out on the front verandah
We'd share a bottle of silence
And watch a twenty-eight in the dead Jarrah tree -
Neither of us thinking of the death that was to be.
I'd produce a flask of wit
And you'd follow with a chuckle -
The low, breathy kind,
Like a 'packet-a-day' kookaburra
Just beginning to wind up.
No, not much to say,
All said in our glasses
As we sit
And wait...
For the long, quiet night.
The nights grow even
colder when I realize
I've spent too much time
screaming at your shadows and
waiting for a miracle
The impending night has fallen upon us
It woke with much persistence
Our hearts fled from its rage like a doe from a rifle
But the blast had already been made. . .
People fall like rain
The clouds are crestfallen with grief
And the darkness has no mercy
Rain soaks...leaves an impact
The falls are devastating...
She was so strong, like a diamond she shined
Only to burn away and be one with the grime
I never saw her go
But the angry darkness of her essence—strangely glows...
He choked on his words, his memory
Like a child swallowing a pill
It is sticking in our throats
Against our will
And the dose ever grows. . .
Who will stop the night?
You wicked thing how achingly stormy you have become!
Rich in your light as it smothers you whole
Leaving the rest to the droll sound of its toll
She burned
As they watched in angry happiness
The smoke of her spirits filling our hearts
No expressions...heavy depressions
He was left to melt and rebuild
His wick ignites—burns are second nature
Though images are hard to swallow
She still talks to our souls
Her story still to be told
Like diamonds never found
A flame of hope hovers
We remain instilled in the rot
The darkness smothers
Its heavy slumber always waking
On misty waters
Beholding sharp brilliant force
I wait the coming
Guiding Light--Contest Poem
Sponsored by: Raul Moreno
We are not alone
comets and meteorites
unwelcomed guests
the eventual outcome
cataclysmically, quiet
The outlook after
our lands in sporadic grief
the sun, now shadows
devastation so abounds
our oasis, our Earth, gone
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/space-3.php
Sensing impending doom
might be happening soon
a tidal wave comes crashin
straight up typhoon.
urgency upon us
calling out to father
need a savior, he's the one
he runs to help and guide us.
The air gets thicker
time ticking quicker
lights seems to flicker
doctor i feel sicker.
Throat clogging up
grip gets tighter
feeling caught in the crosshairs
yet im still a fighter
Powerful, these blitzing beams -
Scorching rays that gleam
Upon raging surf.
Collision of wave and rock -
Resounding, hissing spray:
The fireworks of the sea.
These waves halt for no one.
I am a speck...
A miniscule spot of corroded sand
Nestled within the endless shore.
But that I were a slab of stone -
Fiercely contesting the tide:
Foam and algae markers of will.
Odysseus strings his fatal bow
While I await my metamorphosis:
Where is Kafka when you need him?