Best Indelible Poems

I was seventeen, had one year left of high school and a boyfriend I didn't even love. It was the end of summer, and I was on the verge of a night indelible
because it was incredible for me.

If "tall, dark, and handsome" had a face,...

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An indelible blue looking out to you
seducing the pain to wash away
with stolen keyboard strokes
a few extra x's and o's where
decimals move with inapprehension
carrying fantasy dreams offshore
where sandcastles are built with
riches never to be crowned
holding secret keys to happiness
breathless my tomorrows begin
under guise of the...

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First Love’s Indelible Memory Pure

Deep in my memory remains a pure vision of a first love,
long-forgotten—now conjured up as a present-day image.

This rare, soulful reflection harkens back to another time
long ago to a period of discovery and youthful innocence.

The slow and perpetual ravages of time—dim...

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Every single word we write
When posted on the Internet
Creates an Indelible footprint
It remains in the ether 

          F

O

                  ...

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The cock of day crow over johncrow mountain
Sun come bright
Like Jane and Louise shine eye girl
And light
Just drop from heaven like ripe breadfruit
I pull the darkness from my eyes
And look and see only one thing on my mind
Always like bulla cake and pear
Always like coconut...

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Should I wear myself off in tears?
Should I get myself lost with beer?
Should I dare consult the seers 
for the loss of a comely dear?

Can I live onwards with this fear
that your voice I may no longer hear?
Will our friendship be just mere
now that you're...

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Haiku 1/10/2017

indelible

winds smooth the valley
gently cleansing the timber
footprints never fade


1/10/2016

submitted to – It’s time for a little haiku – poetry contest...

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How romantic of my sweet Albert
Wants tattoo with my name; he’s no flirt
Alb requested a rose
Tattoo inked - a red nose
Alb’s irate kicking him where it hurt!

7/25/19...

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Footprints in sand, indelible till the tide comes in,
reliable impressions, etched, embedded, enveloped 
to form an album of traces:
crab hole excavations,
scurries of hurrying birds,
seaweed twirls wind-driven in curls,
tiny sand flea hop-craters,
crab claw side-step shuffles,
drift-wood scuffs and scuppers
remnants of tidal riffles and ruffles,
snap-shots of scrapes, stomps,...

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A clicking clock is a sound warden. A stereo monologue of one syllable. Like an om om. But an om is neither an omega nor a nom nom. And nom noms are said to be as righteous as driving around a drive or a lane...

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His wounded heart showed with pride

The scars so deep indelible remain

Reminding the soul of sacrifices made
 
The burning passions of his to sustain!



  

© Demetrios Trifiatis
         25 July 2015...

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We all possess this innate urge to leave our mark:
sculptors grasp the chisel;
a dog raises its leg.
Uncertain is the way - the night is dark.
Passions often fizzle.
Both fertile and futile describe an egg.

What is the force that drives this existential urge?
Answers surely varied
as whorls within...

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Angelica dedicated her life to sewing,
and with needle, tread and amazing speed
she created stylish, beautiful dresses for any doll..
a spindle was used for spinning cotton,
and an hour glass to tell time;
why did she work so hard at seventy three...
when other women of her age took...

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Sands in her hand
     trickle as she closes
        her palm to grip them;
She tries to clinch
    every grain that flows
         for it holds...

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Assailed and held prisoner in my bedroom, I fret
Wondering why mad blood seized my head
Inserting an undue threat
Concealed in the seal of the thread

Running through a bevy of thoughts
Silly at best, folly at worst
Waltzing in my bliss boats in tail coats
As thoughts tumble and fumble...

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