Best Inflicts Poems
Assaulting me! The darkness comes to be
in devil’s guise. Phantom haunts my mind;
in sleep paralysis I cannot flee -
insanity bleeding through ruined rind.
I’m humbled now and at your merciless
whims and words afflicting by your whipping
cruelty I’d endured and what of this -
stranglehold of fear that is so gripping.
The trauma it inflicts does overwhelm
in present as it did in madness past,
as Hypnos slips me blackened nightmare’s realm
my sanity becomes a lone outcast.
Stalking specter and there’s no protections,
I’m the victim with my mind in confines,
house of mirrors broken your reflections;
antagonistic mania still shines.
My life with you; you’re still inside my head,
though self-destruction chose as your fare-well.
Subconsciously you infiltrate with dread
as incubus revenge becomes my Hell.
Susan Ashley
September 23, 2018
*Hypnos: the ancient Greek god of sleep*
Out of hell’s breath the Devil’s Coachman comes and turns
around the tale to woe twists as the world creeps backwards
underneath the clay slithering sacrificial savagery begins
Ghastly ghostly spectres watch on with soulless glee
under laid this icy moon the toxic evil venom spews
within hideous precision it claw’s innocent victims prey
Fiercely gnashing jaws instinctively in this fiendish predator of night shades
dark striking off balance this stead of hell delivers his deadliest of blows
disturbingly the pungent smell permeates this surrounding sphere
Paralyzing unwary sufferers arching like a scorpion ready to strike
acrimony spreads stealthily through the shadowy invasion within the beast’s bite
suffering of hades destructive force inflicts a prelude to the apparitions
Awakening within this lair of madness an unsuspecting sacrifice
blinding under tombstones creeping slowly chill’s out
through one veil of darkened soil a nocturnal predator comes to feed
Liquefying resistant victim within the glaze of ebony eyes
mystic powers claiming to be magic crushing the core of Eve’s apple
emerging covered with its sclerotized plates the Coachman devours
Repast of putrid skin the last victim lies rotten
one captured soul sinks into the river of Acheron
final reward for the unwitting wounded prey
Begins eternal downward descent
drawn up and treasured by this hungry decedent of a Rove
carried away into hidden hollows of the dead roaring
Fiercely jealous of it’s captive trophy
sector’s remain vigilant to guard such treasured stored
this Coachman’s rightly domain claims a legion to an underworld
The deepest and darkest secrets expelled unrighteous
this scarabaeus reaper as black inside with a rapier blade and sickle
condemned are the two faced between thee jaws of this deadly fiend locked on
A co-written piece by Liam Mcdaid & Donna Loughman
Out of hell’s breath the Devil’s Coachman comes and turns
around the tale to woe twists as the world creeps backwards
underneath the clay slithering sacrificial savagery begins
Ghastly ghostly spectres watch on with soulless glee
under laid this icy moon the toxic evil venom spews
within hideous precision it claw’s innocent victims prey
Fiercely gnashing jaws instinctively in this fiendish predator of night shades
dark striking off balance this stead of hell delivers his deadliest of blows
disturbingly the pungent smell permeates this surrounding sphere
Paralyzing unwary sufferers arching like a scorpion ready to strike
acrimony spreads stealthily through the shadowy invasion within the beast’s bite
suffering of hades destructive force inflicts a prelude to the apparitions
Awakening within this lair of madness an unsuspecting sacrifice
blinding under tombstones creeping slowly chill’s out
through one veil of darkened soil a nocturnal predator comes to feed
Liquefying resistant victim within the glaze of ebony eyes
mystic powers claiming to be magic crushing the core of Eve’s apple
emerging covered with its sclerotized plates the Coachman devours
Repast of putrid skin the last victim lies rotten
one captured soul sinks into the river of Acheron
final reward for the unwitting wounded prey
Begins eternal downward descent
drawn up and treasured by this hungry decedent of a Rove
carried away into hidden hollows of the dead roaring
Fiercely jealous of it’s captive trophy
sector’s remain vigilant to guard such treasured stored
this Coachman’s rightly domain claims a legion to an underworld
The deepest and darkest secrets expelled unrighteous
this scarabaeus reaper as black inside with a rapier blade and sickle
condemned are the two faced between thee jaws of this deadly fiend locked on
A co-written piece by Liam Mcdaid & Donna Loughman
There is something about matter
that keeps me spellbound,
enamored to its most exquisite blooms,
oceans, forests and mountain streams.
It holds who I am, gives me shape
and form, a home, a place in which
this awareness within me
can live out a life and from which
I have grown.
I am in awe of its compositions,
in love with its colors, perfumes
and sounds, the touch of warm skin
and the sweet taste of freshly
harvested fruit. All is matter.
It is a source of pleasure and joy
and yet inflicts equal measure
of suffering through loss and pain.
But what is matter
when scaled down
to its essence….mere particles
that can be smashed apart
to decay into ghostly spirals.
Is this all I am, a quantum
equation at my core. Or is it
a Creator's gift, the stuff
born out of the act
of a conscious mind, eternal
in some mysterious way.
And so it is with me,
beside the beloved river taking in
the last light of the day.
Full of hope and doubt
I see this lovely world slowly
slipping away and wonder
whether if this is all there is
and nothing more
or will I awake from this dream
as I may have done so many
lifetimes before.
The third millennium of what?
Man is lame
clearly lost the will to walk,
he’s blind
no longer able to reason.
His fingers cast hope
upon the keyboard,
his mind creates
trends upon the screen,
he inflicts pain, a global sadomasochist
he sees others in his historical
image!
He plants his seed
most upon stony ground,
he offers peace
a twisted excuse
to deliver his belief,
he’s losing God!
He thinks he’s superior,
he’s lost the ability of simplicity,
whilst delving in ideology
akin to profit.
© Harry J Horsman 2011
Spare a thought this Christmas for those suffering in Ukraine
While you are enjoying the festive season Russia inflicts more pain
Huddled around makeshift fires with no where to escape the chill
The evil Russians fire missiles and drones that are designed to kill.
Russia hopes by taking out their power grid that they will give in
But its made them more determined not to yield to Vlad Putin
They're melting snow for water it's what they're having to do
And if we didn't live in a civilised world it could easily be me or you.
Women and girls are sexually assaulted at the point of a gun
Their families are forced to watch while these dogs have their fun
Another report a girl watched her friend raped and shot in the head
They didn't want any witnesses and made sure that she was dead.
Mass graves have been discovered with bodies tied and bound
With many showing signs of torture investigators have found
Russia claims only military targets have been hit but of course its lies
Anything that comes out of Putins mouth should come as no surprise.
Iran is supplying Putin with missiles and other cheap hardware
Putins rants about nuclear weapons I don't think he would dare
The axis of evil has now changed its now Nth Korea, Russia and Iran
They're all a bunch of cowards and they'd never fight man to man.
The Patriot missile system Ukraine needs and I urge the US to supply
Because if they don't Russian bombers will fly and many more will die
The war has already escalated because weapons we are supplying
And only by doing so will it prevent the death toll in Ukraine from rising.
Written on 13th December 2022
I have supported Ukraine since February by writing poems about what is happening there and trying to bring to light atrocities that have been committed by the Russian army against the Ukrainian people and have at no time written anything negative about some brave Russian people who opposed Putin and many who have been imprisoned for making a stand.
the blood of love leaks out
through this punctured
saddened wound
bleeding hurt unspoken
cries for help unheard,
no surgeon could ever help
the shocking pain of but a word
how one so casually inflicts
such wounds upon those
they have once told
of their undying eternal love
held tight those two bodies
as she wanted so to hold
yeah, love can be quite nasty,
so disrespectful of your heart
and torture you forever
until from life, you should depart
Paroxysm of pain inflicts this pen,
tears cry poetic allusion.
When petal hearts are misunderstood,
life is full of confusion.
Distasteful thoughts set camp in my mind,
an unwelcome intrusion.
Virgin pages innocent in white,
yearn to wear this mind's effusion.
Too many deep unanswered questions,
lead to a false conclusion.
When judgement lacks honest intellect,
darkness defeats diffusion.
Sun is cautious to cast my shadow,
intolerant in inclusion.
Forever immersed in freezing rain,
victim to their collusion.
When metaphorical daggers scar,
they say it's an illusion.
Melancholic lacerations scream,
ignored by deaf delusion.
I'm bleeding, but you ignore this blood,
it's too late for a transfusion.
Silently sad soul seeks solitude,
far from sound in seclusion.
Silent One
Simple Musings
1 February 2018
Misleading, minacious maze now thwarted,
eschews stealth as sandal-clad steps resound.
Determined and dour, destiny draws near;
completing this quest: forever renowned.
Stygian sky grants a much-welcomed boon:
conformable clouds cast curtain aside.
A radiant pearl suspended aloft,
reveals route to where foul fiend does reside.
Mouthing prayers to a personal angel;
supplication: salient and silent.
Head held high, eyes fixed firmly on heaven;
bless these dark deeds, bloody and violent.
Sharpened silvern sword raised proudly aloft;
unblemished blade mirrors midnight’s moon-light.
Utters an oath sworn at parents’ graveside;
tonight sees the zenith of a birthright.
Shrieks fill the air, inhuman and hungry;
hero’s hammering heart reaches its peak.
Fear is just fleeting, for foe has arrived;
savage beast attacks with claw and with beak.
Garden’s guardian inflicts ghastly gash;
‘tis nary a scratch for warrior’s might.
Unyielding weapon wielded with such flair
finally - fatally - settles the fight.
Chimera confronted, cowed and conquered;
tales of this victory regaled forthwith.
A marble mosaic marvel beckons
and once-true events pass straight into myth.
-------------------------------------------------
February 2017
An apology for any students (or masters) of classical mythology. I’ve used a fair bit of poetic licence with the events leading to the death of the Chimera... but I was raised on a diet of Ray Harryhausen and this was my homage to his creature features!
-------------------------------------------------
Written for the “Chimera World” contest sponsored by Nayda Ivette Negron - Eighth Place. The following restrictions applied:
“1 original poem that uses the following words: mosaic, maze, moon, guardian, garden, angel, heaven, heart, midnight and clouds.”
Every night I search for your face
through the mist on my window
I search for your arms
in the perfume of flowers
I gaze at oceans of stars
and make the same sempiternal wish
Every night I bathe in crystals of honey
'neath an effervescent moon
which carries your evanescent smile
upon each ripple of waves
Every night the horizon meets my eyes
and all I think of is you
Your world becomes my world
as my world becomes your own
Every night I wear my glass slippers
to dance on sand prints of the past
in the silent promise of tomorrow
Every night I await a new sunrise
to solace this pang which your absence inflicts
To hear you whisper 'I love you'
to feel your breath upon mine
without being kissed.
Suffer the little children that hide their pain
For these innocent victims, who’s to blame?
Although many a tragedy happen at home
Society, itself, inflicts harsh pains of its own
Danger and violence are a part of everyday
And, the children know it shouldn’t be that way
The remain fearful in living with all they endure
Safety and security, they never know for sure
Clinging to anything showing an open arm
They barely survive using sheer wit and charm
Restitutional change is imperative somehow
Our children need salvation, and they need it now
Accepting responsibility is where all must begin
To partake in the marking of suffering’s end.
It's seven A.M., the sun is up, the fields are covered in snow.
I'm 57 years old, and sick, and I ought to know...'
What ravages my body so??
Inflicts me witn such pain?
I have pain meds I don't wish to use,
They can lead to harder stuff,
As far as i am concerned,
Pain is but an awareness tool,
To let us knoe we need help,
And not there just for fun...
And trust me, friend,
Fun I have not...
As I at last prefare for bed.
Ugh.
They're pagans on ice with wood sticks
And maximum pain each inflicts
But Saint Patrick knows
God prefers trios
Like three-leaf shamrocks and hat tricks
When I see those eyes,
They’re filled with lifeless lies.
It’s no wonder his skin is like ice.
He tells me, “Come closer,”
His promise of wealth wins me over,
But then I see the black blood running through his veins.
He says, “Five years, then it’s time for more games.”
It’s now year six,
This monster finds comfort in the pain he inflicts.
The tormenting things I’ve seen,
His toxicity poisoning my dreams.
It leaves me in a cold, wet sweat.
He steals me away because of a forgotten debt,
My pleas and sorrows pave the path to his inferno.
In the distance I see a burrow,
He leads me down the dark, wet cave,
Fires emerge- I find myself wishing for my grave,
They bathe my eyes, I shut them tight,
But he promises that the fires won’t bite.
I gaze into his Hell engulfed in raging flames,
The fires beckon me closer with their playful games.
My muscles tense and my body aches as his evils fill a dense lake,
The bodies swimming give me life.
I begin to see that maybe he’s all right.
I feel my body start to change,
A wave of power surges my derange.
This Hell pries open up my eyes,
It shows me all of his lifeless lies.
It chills me to my very core,
Just one sip from the sea of dead- and then I will be no more.
The new air I breathe,
The new scent I smell,
It’s almost as if the Earth is now Hell.
He fooled me just once, but the reward so sweet,
Prepare for a fight- I can’t be beat.
He thinks I’m grateful, but he shouldn’t hold his breath,
Remember, “You have the black blood, I have the red.”
The fury I have is stronger yet,
He’s about to regret that forgotten debt.
I’m losing control as reality slips,
This boiling being flips the switch.
I see a reflection- surely it can’t be me,
Those must be his lifeless eyes rippling back at me.
My stomach twists and my head spins,
But I’m on a mission that requires a win.
I’m in a dark hole- there’s no turning back,
With one swift whack, I put a knife in his back.
“If thou put the brethren in remembrance of these things, thou shalt be a good minister of Jesus Christ, nourished up in the words of faith and of good doctrine, whereunto thou hast attained.” 1 Timothy 4:6 King James Version of the Bible
Revival cries my soul in need
Struggling against guilt of sin-breed
Then comes heaven’s refreshing light…
Lord, You nourish me with delight.
My heart craves for mercy and grace
Longing warmth of divine embrace
Then responds caring kindness might...
Lord, You nourish me with delight.
Faith wavers due to mocking doubt
Leaving me with skeptical pout
Then Your cheers smite unbelief’s blight…
Lord, You nourish me with delight.
My hope hides discontentment pain
As hypocrisy inflicts strain
Then flow supplies from blessings’ site…
Lord, You nourish me with delight.
Receiving pardon from above
Grants me Your precious gift of love
Then peace seeks me in prayer flight…
Lord, You nourish me with delight.
Thanking You, God, in praise-filled bliss
Never Your fellowship to miss
Then now I say midst service-height…
Lord, You nourish me with delight.
March 23, 2023
1st place, "Writing Challenge - 'N' Words" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France; judged on 3/23/2023.