Best Infects Poems


Premium Member Clouds

He lay outside    on the cellar door    one day
Lazy    gazing at the sky
A child    a dutiful child
Before he knew clouds move    or why
Those scattered billows    grey fringed    hung high
It was late afternoon    with ghostly moon
The lively honey bees    some suspended    sip    then buzzzzzzz    zip!
He's heard    from experienced    older folk
The earth    years from the sun    goes round
Dreamy    following    eyes go round and round
On carousel    astride mind's steed    he's off the ground
Gently rocking    lifting    on that waving sea
This quite a vital sort of primal ecstasy
Clouds and festivals    Picassoette    surreal
That music in the air    nature's breath    infects the skin    the veins
Ah    those few moments    so rare    so hauntingly spare........

When the screen door creaks open he shivers!
                                     then
Mother calls him in to dinner

Ungrateful Son

Self righteous there, he stands and preens, this perfect specimen
Due to Mothers nurturing, alive and prospering.
Forgotten are the years of toil, the Mothers care and love
The Brother  and the Sister, he keeps his head above
What  poison foul  infects his blood, and whispers in his ear
to Blind his eyes and turn his head from truth’s he will not hear
In judgement he declares the fault, forgetting what He’s done
Self righteous words and nasty mouth, deny the blame he owns
The bond he broke, the lives that spent, creating him a home
Are conveniently forgotten , he must have done it on his own
The years of dedicated Love, are foreign to his kind
The loyal years of Motherhood discarded in his mind
Oh that he could just stand aside ,and see what  he could be
Just take the look, review himself and see what others see
An arrogant uncaring fool who pose’s puffs and struts
fawning  Yes’s  on his cronies ,  and to his family But’s 
He’s lost forever, lest he changes temper tantrum’d rants
Grow from a nasty little Boy and take the real mans stance.
For many things in life don’t last, they’re transient you see
But a Mothers care and heartfelt love will live eternally
Or will he visit once a year for duty tend a grave
 A caring loving thankful son, for show he will be brave
Remember this you upstart, no matter what you say
The debt you owe your Mother, you never can repay
Next time you start your little rants and Put your Mother down 
When she is dead and in her grave forgiveness won’t be found.

Premium Member State of Confusion

State of Confusion



No to progress
Yes to Pence
No to openness
Yes to the camps
No to socialism
Yes to the lemmings
No to healthcare
Yes to healthcare
Very confusing
However
You have the worst healthcare
That's not confusing

Someone wrote his speech
Pay attention
They do not write his tweets
Llies upon lies

Poison ivy infects the land
Everyone is scratching their heads
Some though hide in the sand
Heads buried in hatred's depth

Comrades
Wake up!


Highway Wind

I drive the night because of open road.
My retreads are sounding strong.
Hauling cars up from New Orleans
Where I'm not sure that I belonged.

Traded whiskey for a woman
At a bar in Abilene.
Then the pedal down up to Portland town
Helped along by methadrine.
                
There’s a lady there in Stumptown
She dances on the pole
Makes her pay in dollar bills
She's never ever home

Daylight fades and night descends
Men come, await their fate.
She sucks them dry and infects their soul,
Relights her lamp and waits…

She goes to church on Sunday.
Always comes in late.
She says a prayer, she sheds a tear,
puts food stamps in the plate.

Dropped my load down at the docks
there's a motel by the sea.
Homebase for my Peterbilt
That's parked out by the tree 

Called her up, the kids are home.
I hear them laughining on the phone.
Grandma says she"s not around,
But she'll tell her I'm in town.

“Yea. tell her I'm in town again
And kiss the kids for me,
Gotta leave on Tuesday”.
Hung up and fell asleep.

The phone rang in the morning.
The call was short and sweet.
She had some things she had to do,
Didn’t think that we could meet.

Fueling up, the fog horns moan.
Red pills to feed the beast.
A woman left back in the fog.
A white line headed east.

  Look at my life
       Some say I've sinned.
           My dreams were blown away 
                 By the cruel ... 
                        Highway Wind.
© Ken Rone  Create an image from this poem.

It

It grows
beneath the surface
It grows
Behind the curtain

It grows
And when it is seen
It’s too late
It’s there to stay

It is like a gas
Hovering 
Following
Enveloping those

In its Smokey tendrils
Entrapping 
Clinging like brambles
To clothes

It coils itself
Around 
Tighter and tighter
It sits

By the ear
And hisses
Cruel music
To those unaware

Invisible It follows
Infecting the world
With its murky gloom
Making the future black

The world stops turning
Reverts to standing still
And it clings still
Holding in an unloving embrace

It’s like an impenetrable bubble 
Of pain
Hatred reverberating back inside
While kindness sits beyond its walls

Kindness does not wait
It sits for only a while
Then leaves
Leaves you with it

Clawing for freedom
Does not work
For it infects deep
It becomes you

Escape can only come
From the outside
But the world is blind to it
So we sit

Afraid to make a sound
And it grows bigger
‘Tell there is no telling
The difference between you

And it

Until suddenly 
It Fades
Gone for good?
Not likely 

It always returns
It’s just away
Visiting family
Or taking a break

But it’s enough
Long enough
Long enough to speak
Long enough for the world to hear you

Long enough to be ready
When it comes back
Maybe you won’t be unarmed
Maybe you won’t be alone

But only if you speak

Premium Member A Rogue Black Bear

The Black Bears roam the mountain top
Just before Dawn, you hear the “Hooo”
The mating call Incessant : “ STOP!! “
Infects the mind, infecting : “ YOU “

My Black Soul travels  Everywhere
The Black Bears roam the mountain top
My Dreams : I am a Rogue Black Bear
“Hooo” “Hooo” “Hooo” ; I too, can not “STOP!! “

Hallucinogens : “ Quite a Crop “
Growing along the Forest floor
The Black Bears roam the mountain top
Eating Weeds off the Forest floor

Insanity,  Reality
Imagination : “Do not “STOP””
Wandering Through “ Eternity “
The Black Bears roam the mountain top

Author's Note : I Ask my POETRYSOUP Family To Critque this Quatern
                 Thank-YOU ALWAYS and FOREVER YOUR Liege...HG
Dedicated to my "Sister Spirt" -- "Lynette Charchere" with LOVE ALWAYS and FOREVER


Premium Member Sea Of Roses

The ashes of your ghost still roam within a sea of roses.
Breathing you in, I try to reach through the veils,
yet to no avail.
The bitter emptiness is all I can feel.

The Fates keep taunting, teasing~
in the dead of night, your voice still lingers,
preventing slumber from taking hold.
The ticking of clocks infects my broken psyche,
hallucinations tangle me within what used to be our sheets.

Breathing in your scent, exhaling demons~
without you, the devil whispers.
Temptation takes hold,
fire flows through transforming veins.
Lilith’s fury poisons any humanity that was left.

Levitating from the bed, rebirth is at hand.
Cutting into my chest,
the heart becomes the heartless.
Electricity pulses beneath rippling flesh,
destruction now at my fingertips.

Grief begets hate.
Now watch as the world burns,
as I become my own martyr.
© Sara Jama  Create an image from this poem.

Hatred

Hatred

In the past I just loathed their opinions and whims 
That I felt were too narrow and poorly thought out
For their stubbornness came from a mind much too dim
To see freedom and progress that no one should doubt

And I’ve wearied of trying to listen and learn
Of their views not my own, from a place I’ve not been
And I won’t take more time to attempt to discern
Their commitments and vows so exclusive and thin

So the time has now come to declare them accursed
And conclude that their motives have always been vile
And with those so enlightened to view them perverse
May their mortal lives soon be no longer worthwhile 

Once the hatred infects all perception does fade
A predictable slide to a deadly cascade
© Mark Elam  Create an image from this poem.

Hot Summer Day

No one else celebrates a summer noon,
like children. They embrace it like a bouquet
of roses in their souls,
as they jump into pools of water,
splashing all over around them.
Their innocent bliss soon infects men and women,
their thoughts going down memory lane...


Date: 23/08/2017

The Monster Cries

Diamonds glistening  until your blinded
Infects the willing and unwilling
Those who hide, smile. those who don’t, cry
It’s still there even for those who give freely
Concealed inside this fantasy
So deeply hidden, this knowledge forbidden
The diamond in your hand
 
The monster cries
Breathing a dark reality, 
Dreams shattered, pieces scattered, 
Its journey jagged, the diamond scratched
The monster walks among us lost, and hurt
It looks for comfort and fails
Several times
This kingdom
Overwhelmed with hate, vengeance and crimes
It retreats back into it cave to seek solace from its familiarity
But it also betrays the monster and the monster howls searching for security
The diamond in its hand

A little drop of blood lands softly on to the tip of the diamond
The drop widens like ripples in a pond
Tips and overflows the stone
Dripping into the cracks
The diamond in its hand
Seeking affiliation, singing alone

It’s never safe and it knows
The diamond bleeds and the monster cries
The Monster Cries

Depression

A silk sheet of black covers my head while I am sleeping and seeps into my skin,
Reaching my brain and interrupting dreams that are far from reality’s reach.
Slowly, surely, on soft feet.
Creeping up on me, unexpected.
Chasing me through dark forests that once held flowers without thorns and birds that sang on the many Sunday mornings of spring.
Heels sinking into weak, helpless soil as it gives in to the pressure that pounds upon it again and again like a never ending migraine.
Toes scratched and bleeding from sharp, jabbing rocks that hide themselves and wait for their next victim,
And leave them with scars to line their flesh.
At night the hurt will sit with their legs crossed tight underneath them as if they are protecting them,
And their cold fingers will trace the scars upon their toes
Over and over
In a rhythm, a melody of sorts that only sounds beautiful when it can be understood by the ones who know it best.
I turn corners and pass trees that loom over me,
Old and wilted,
Threatening to fall on top of me and crush me
So I am molded into the ground below it,
And no one will find me because no one cares about the trees that fall,
Or the plants that die,
So why would they look under the fallen tree to find another girl,
Lost and thrown away in the process of trying to run away?
They chase me still as I run so fast that my legs want to detach themselves from my body and leave me lying limp.
Leaves fall into my hair and the thought to pull them out does not occur to me as the soil squishes between my toes, the wind stings my eyes and ears.
Every time I look down,
Beneath me seems to blur,
and I cannot see any of the branches that threaten to trip me as they know what I am running from.
I will fall and be stuck as weeds wrap around my ankles and wrists and prevent me from rising back up,
They will hold me down as if I am a child throwing a temper tantrum,
Restricting me from kicking and screaming.
They want it to catch me and take me away,
To conquer me,
Control me.
But maybe,
In a way that is unknown to me,
A plague that infects my body piece by piece,
Maybe it already has taken over.

Mentality

Love as a priority
Has become a minority.
Gratification makes promises unreal
In love and life learning to deal.
Mentality of a flower child
Freedom is key,
Butchered by Bin Laden,
And even politics before he.
Sixties and Seventies past,
Is the philosophy forgotten?
Is it possible to fit in?
This new age may be rotten.
Peace, love and harmony,
Preach it to all;
Move souls into the sublime,
Let your ignorance fall.
With inhibitions and hate,
Greed, anger and fear;
We are all Gods creations,
Give children less reason for a tear.
Hostility is created,
Not born into babies;
Purity is the beginnings of life,
Ill-will infects us like rabies.
The realization of reality,
Love as a dream yet to come;
Proving with acts and not words
Is something not done.
Life's paths hoped to be fairytales,
Opportunity floats in the air;
Built up dreams let down,
Missing my breath and catching one rare.
Spread this education,
Enlighten new minds.
Search for yourself,
It's good what you find.
© Haley Kalb  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Wild Country

The opaque mist
hangs buoyant; taut,
a stubble veil infects
an ancient craggy face, 
and currents of blooming
heather lay nonchalant along 
the old Roman road.
Here I stand in retrospect
motionless as the frigid sun 
begins to blend, a place where
one should feel privileged
to negotiate the freezing wind,
this place surely in need of a friend
where tussock stand rigid still!
My footprint etched upon its soul
before each blade of grass
appears to acknowledge,
this confined partisan role.

 © Harry J Horsman 2020

The Morning Rush

Blanketed in darkness, despite the morning skies
A dull flicker of memory rears behind tired eyes
Images seem blurry, pathetic and astray
But slowly gain momentum, then unite clear as day

A rush of sour emotion, the solitude infects
The thought of you so out of reach quakes beneath my chest
And for one selfish moment I let sadness kidnap me
I cry for all we never had and what will never be

Surrender to my craving, let a wave of aching in
Let my heart lie broken, let desolation sting
I cry until the tears run dry, my body breaks the fever
And try to face another day while you're lost in the ether

Premium Member Two Murders - Part II

2.

To be alive is to dance with danger.
Both hands off the wheel,
We fly down the icy plane of existence
Trusting our belief in a Right Order of Things
To shield us from the chaos,
The chaos that waits like a hungry beast
Just off the dim edges of waking life.

There is a poison which infects us,
Running through the deep channels of our minds,
Corroding our sense of self-control,
Rubbing raw the frayed edges of our common senses
Making us crave the deadly clarity of the irrational act,
Breeding a lust for the fearful appeal
That lies smiling in the hidden heart of brutality.

     He comes out of his home early that morning,
     His fiancee' stepping brightly beside him.
     They climbed into their truck together    
     Warming one another with new lovers' looks
     In the snapping cold November air.
     When they felt themselves readied for another suburban day,
     They began backing out, 
     Never noting the Hatchback's approach.
     
     So, with a little jar and a little crunch,
     Their vehicles met in a tiny collision.
     Minor damages produced,
     Enough for annoyance, no cause for hardship.
     He got out to meet the other driver,
     Prepared to dispatch with this unfortunate delay
     Then move on with the day.

     He saw the other driver walking towards him,
     Then saw the gun.

     In the space of one flashing moment
     Another life met its abrupt end.

     Without a word, the stranger lifted his gun
     And emptied a full clip into his target.
     9mm slugs opened round tunnels
     In the stunned body standing before him,
     Blood rained brightly, roses on new snow.

     After the limp form of the newly dead fell,
     The killer walked back to his truck
     Brought out a fresh clip,
     To calmly use it up on the body
     That danced under the impacts,
     A briefly animated corpse upon the tarmac.

     As these things transpired the woman,    
     The would've-been wife of the bleeding ruin
     Screamed in the cab; she screamed and screamed
     Like a bird in pain,
     Face a vision of horror.

     That horror broke itself for a fleeting moment,
     Long enough to let panic flood in
     The would-be wife took off then,
     In aimless, agonized flight.

     The killer roamed free for days.

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