Best Initiated Poems
All alone you sit there in grip of graveyard, hosting demonic thoughts,
Listening to cries of tombstones, squalling from lovers’ somber epitaphs,
Recounting how you chased prospects, innocent souls you courted,
Celebrating your maleficence building bonfires on the burial grounds,
Where you buried them one by one, watching the dance of demons,
As your stony heart laughed aloud, mocking the dead in total disregard.
You lured them with synthetic smiles, faux glamor of loveless stance,
Never meaning a word uttered, attired in stares of spurious glance,
As you prayed on them, then discarded; in landfills of broken-hearts.
Relationships initiated in springs of life, often parched in summer heat,
As passionless encounters burned in flame of hideous promiscuity;
Got washed away by the feisty storms churning scurrilous intensity,
Propelling hurricanes lovelorn, flooding realms of lovesome prairies,
When aspirations of your lust subordinated inspirations of pure love.
Old and fragile, you ruminate now, in frigid winters of your miserable life,
Speechless, motionless, fearful of your pitiful world swiftly passing by,
Haunting your eyes, as paranormal spirits, the silhouettes of the dead,
Mock your decrepit existence, shouting insanities at your grimacing face.
Remorseful beneath moon and stars, you inscribe your own epitaph:
She was a gloom of stygian clouds, shrouding arc of love on sunlit dawns,
She was a dubious counterfeit act; she was a vile curse on romance,
A cooing dove of morn she was not; a phantom of love she sure was.
“we look for that that does not come and go
it cannot be organic form, subject to decay
thoughts and beliefs are fickle, how little we know
yet come what may, our inner child continues to play”
The 'umbilical cord',
hereby symbolic,
its severance
where
initiated,
a soul of three,
and then much more.
Growing up was an
in-depth shared
furtherance,
whereupon,
directives were encountered,
either embraced or tossed aside.
Time and again, instant moments,
encouraging considerations,
imbued ponderance,
whereto,
we tether ourselves
to a sizeable pole of justifications.
Hail to a fitness club, or a cab to a McDonald's,
intermittent intervals, slim down or fatten up,
choice batters about a pole that remains,
until life expectance,
leans awkward,
wherefore
for time indulgence,
slacks a major facet as the pole evolves minor,
for one's immediate concerns, lies elsewhere, a priority.
All the while, the pole was steadfast but never silent
taking a backseat to the urgencies of the moment
significance tallies the hours near,
wherein
one now realizes that time is fleeting,
wonders how one's pole has shaped itself, was it worth their while.
At that instant, open their eyes
and see the poles that are
standing around them
bedside so they can
measure their
worth truly.
Where
we mete
out ourselves
to whom we truly
Blessed Assurance.
ROULETTE
My twisted mind
Had everyone blind
No symptoms
Not a single sign!
I want to forget everything,
Living a life of no regrets,
Facing the sun
Ignoring my debts
Wiping of the cold sweat,
Taking another drink from my sweet tea set.
My life, a game of “RUSSIAN ROULETTE,”
there is no positive or negative.
A game of slip and slide,
Opened wide
Put a gun inside
Staring down the barrel
A quick pull trigger, gone sterile
I give thanks to another day.
Madness, I've gone insane
Lots of money down the drain.
Initiated gum pops,
Broken lemons drops,
Tainted temples,
Upon another turn,
I dream of no shame!
Always saying 'NEVER!'
To this life, I scream “WHATEVER!"
HIT ME AGAIN!
by;p.d
I wrote this poem,
and dedicate the poem to my gambling addiction...
ha ha, I miss it... he he he.... JK
westerly chasing daylight relentless darkness never cedes defeat
..............................
The single line Haiku known as a Monoku usually contains seventeen syllables. A caesura (pause) is initiated by speech rhythm and usually with little or no punctuation.
Form: Monoku
Written: 06/01/2016
Contest: Give Me Your Best One Liner
Sponsor: Silent One
Results: 2nd Place
Peace and war
Often lived here over the years
Even though initiated by the few
Tears were created between many
Relaxation and growth was the PS purpose
Yet they in themselves had to be fought for
Still, with time, peace would prevail
Offences are still doled and taken
Until all are free of mistakes so it will be
Perfection is not what brought us here, poetry is
PSing since '06 ;)
Sneha
Contradictory, Dreamy, Lazy, Careless
Sibling of Nobody
Lover of Literature, and Living Beings
Who feels lives of tiny creatures,
Matters more than our tiny benefits
Who is in need of patience!
Who fears Demerits*
Who would like to see "Swachch Bharath" put to action.
Resident of India's Former Garden City - Bangalore -
The Literature Lover
"Swachch Bharath" is a campaign initiated by our current Prime Minister - Towards a Cleaner and Greener India.
* Demerits are Minus points given at our School.
Blind Faith
So, even the expression, blind faith, makes my blood boil.
I've had one too many conversations with "intellectuals" who disdainfully look down on us believers for believing in a Creator. They imply by the expression blind faith, that we do not have the mental capacity to think or to reason, that we blindly, or naively, are lead to believe in God without any proof.
They say that believing in an invisible person, or force is foolishness, a mere childlike fantasy nothing more. One commentator said "I used to have an imaginary friend, when I was a child, but I grew up, and no longer believe in fairy tales, and imaginary sky friends, like God".
Firstly, I would say that it is not foolishness, to believe in invisible forces. Science has proven the existence of radio waves, gravity, magnetic attraction, electricity, wi-fi, and on and on goes the list. So it is not the intellectually weak-minded who believe in invisible forces, it is all rational people.
To be frank, if there is no Originator of life, no Initial Causer, Creator, or Intelligent Designer, then what is left? What initiated life? Chance you say! Ok, let's look at random chance as the initiator of life. Ask any scientist what are the mathematical probabilities, that life, even in it's most rudimentary form came about by chance, they will tell you the odds are trillions to one, over billions of years!
So let me get this straight, believing in a great Causer, when we see the effect (us, life as we know it) is unreasonable, but according to them, it is more reasonable to conclude, that life came from nothing at all, and the odds are trillions to one against it, and that it is a fact. Interestingly, mathematics professors will tell you that 10 billion to one odds, is the limit, beyond that it is not only improbable, but rather, mathematically impossible to happen.
So, to prove God exists, all we need to do, is do the math! It is mathematically impossible that life came by random chance. For those that believe it to be true...sounds a little like...hmmm...... blind faith!
John Derek Hamilton
May 16,2017
Driven to Distraction
Can’t help it
Can’t do anything about it
An innocent photo
Fantasizes
Her word repeated
Re-read and re-initiated
Touches
Swims me through
Her soul
Finds my spirit
Traversing the spaces
Hanging with kisses
She repeats
And replete
On tantalizings
Almost tasted
I fall
Control-less
Can’t help it
Can’t do anything about it
In the images
She painted
Enchanted
The rick and cot
Of desire
In sheets and pillows
I hear her giggles
Under flushing eyes
What am I to do
With these
Vacant longings
As they travel
Distances
Horizon from me to you
What am I to do
With this hearts
And heads infatuated
Poetry
As it lays at night
Jostling and turning
In the empty
Impossibility
Of wantings
My lips to feed
Greedily
And sate this hungrily
Echoed
Distraction driven
I can’t help it
Can’t control it
This aching trespass
With words imparted
The succinct
And salivated story
Of her
Sends me crushing
And cruising
Heat semaphores
Towards her
And in the meal of love
I would dine
On sustenance passion
Eat her
Through my every fibre
If but once
I could
Hold her
Can’t help it
Can’t do anything about it
Can’t control it
I wish to inform all citizens that I am hereby calling symposia. The battle against repression has been won and the war is over.
Very noble ideas will be initiated which you will soon discover.
The King ordered me to organize a conference to create a utopia.
The highest level judge, come and share some kingdom laws. A representative of commerce will address the economy. King Issaquena desires his people to feel secure and free, and for them to realize he demands liberty and justice for all.
The sheriff, the mayor, and the chief of police, I bid you come. The poorest person in the county, come boldly and be strong. Bring your stories and be seated at the table where you belong. The most acknowledged musician, come and sing us a happy song.
09112018PoSoupContest, Symposia Poetry, Julia Ward
Enclosed Rhyme, abba abba abba 3 stanzas, 4 lines each, 12 total lines
You. From out of the blue a dream come true, every since
your debut my life flourishes anew.
When I first caught your eye my heart became electrified
but I was acting kinda' shy so you simply passed me by.
Then you turned for another look, the Earth shook,
nevertheless, clueless but hooked, you remained a
closed book.
I stood intimidated for you seemed so complicated, so
the conversation you initiated and I was elevated. You,
So beautifully understated.
Hence your elegance leaves me in suspense, however
it's very clever the way you use common sense.
Nonetheless, I acquiesce your beauty, your finesse,
amazing and I'm forever impressed with such
faithfulness. You... Timeless.
P-hilippine Independence Day
H-ad been proclaimed twelfth of June;
I-t was the year eighteen ninety-eight,
L-iberation lives neath the moon.
I-t was the freedom from foreign control,
P-romise of reform was made;
P-eace process in the country
I-ced the war as the smoke did fade.
N-ation's Independence Day was initiated by Emilio Aguinaldo;
E-nding the three hundread years of Spanish rule, the Filipino flag began to glow.
I-ndependence day of the Philippines
N-ever departs from our mind;
D-ramatic growth of nationalism
E-manates to brightly shine.
P-hilippine Independence Day
E-xplains the Filipino's valor;
N-ever will he remain slave,
D-enying any alien conqueror.
E-very man of the world
N-eeds to be freed from soul colonizer;
C-hrist has built His Church,
E-ach one is ordered to enter.
D-on't waste the given chance,
A-sk for the righteous way;
Y-es, it's more important than Philippine Independence Day.
I relaxed on the couch to feel at ease,
the psychiatrist sat across from me.
This wasn’t any normal physician-
He was my subconscious personified.
A flow of panic surged through my body-
Beads of sweat slowly trailed down my face-
My heart began beating erratically-
My eyes darted in search of an exit-
There wasn’t an exit available!
The sense of fear was running down my spine,
I’m trapped within the walls of my own mind
taunted by the horrors that lie within.
The psychiatrist peered through my file
his eyes scrutinized every incident.
I coughed to break the silence in the room,
but it still constricted the atmosphere.
He initiated conversation:
a trivial attempt to gain rapport.
We discussed my past and current events.
Each story was surgically dissected;
it was torture being under the knife.
I was wide awake through the incisions;
helpless against the tools of a madman.
I grimaced through the pain of memories-
I opened old wounds then they were sown shut-
I’m plagued by a beast that lingers inside-
I need to run before I’m devoured!
My inner turmoil came to a close;
he arrived at a clear diagnosis.
He noted the cycling mood changes:
a constant battle between highs and lows.
The faulty sense of attachment issues
bred in from a childhood beginning.
Sporadic moments of self-destruction;
accompanied by parties and drinking.
The guilt from burning bridges to loved ones
constructed my imposed wall to the world.
He told me he understands my poems
and the theme behind each one I wrote.
From the introspection, private musings
love, temptations and whimsical humor;
it’s a way to channel my redemption
to add a purpose to this unhinged life.
The meeting was officially over.
I unraveled a new revelation:
I’m a continual work in progress
finding my road to a recovery.
When I pierced your eyes,
I knew you were not of this world.
Memory stirred—
I had met you before,
in Egypt,
among forgotten corridors of time.
You smiled,
and I whispered your name:
Helena Petrovna Blavatsky…
Your aura healed
before it touched my skin.
You kissed my right dimple
as we gazed upon the Sun.
“Focus,” you said,
“Ray Seven shall birth The Secret Doctrine,
a key to the seventh dimension.
Fragments only they will grasp—
but a golden age will come.”
Then softly you added:
“When you meet my soul sister Annie Besant
in England,
pass her this kiss I have given you.”
In the winter of 1916,
I met that Diamond Soul.
She kissed me gently,
then whispered no more:
“I have launched the All India Home Rule League—
and I am exhorted.”
That night, beneath the oil lamp’s glow,
they circled me in silence.
Blavatsky, Besant, and Olcott—
their hands upon my shoulders,
their eyes burning with forgotten fire.
No words, only a current
rushed through my blood,
a vow sealed in invisible flame.
I was initiated—
not as a man,
but as a keeper of the hidden path.
As I turned to leave,
Colonel Henry Steel Olcott
called me from the USA:
“We are forming a school
to study the knowledge of God.”
I stepped out of the room,
lost in that knowledge.
Now I stand in the Now—
wondering still
Am I human…
or God?
Let me be the one!
One glance at your face
Initiated the chase
I have therefore, joined the race
To determine whose arms, you finally embrace
Of gold I heard your heart is made
To provide for a weary heart like mine, a shade
For a love like yours, I've always prayed
And hope no other, would have you swayed
Seen beauties without measure,
Yet, none gives my eyes more pleasure,
Unequalled, in beauty and grace,
The emptiness in my heart, please displace
I am hooked, as I never have been,
To a beauty, who ought to be a queen,
With abundance of brains and elegance
And no quantum of arrogance.
So, bury my heart in your bosom,
And let our love blossom,
Display me to all, like a work of art
But, never be thrown at with a dart
Let your lips be mine alone,
Worthy you will be for my throne.
Let me live in a love that’s fair and true,
Not one that'll always leave me blue.
Let me make you my Tsarina,
And you make me your Tsar.
Let me be your one true boo,
Not some display animal in your zoo.
Amilius
500 thousand years ago we came upon the earth,
in spirit form our natural state,
the blue green planet searched,
Amilius the first Adam came,
first born of the one true God,
We sprang into animal bodies, a subject of much mirth, no Frogs,
death was no annhilatation.
Some stayed too long in animal form and hardened,
had to wait,
went through the pain of death,
the spirit joins his mates,
5 races started by Amilius,
colors, black, white, brown,
yellow and the red,
Were started in 5 places,
thoughts are deeds of the one Gods thought form,
so the human race was bred.
The Atlantean race were red of skin ,
In the mid Atlantic ocean,
High explosives were used to rid them of Dinosaurs,
Gas pockets joined the explosion,
sunken land caused a commotion,
almost annhilation..
Ra and Hermes built the great Pyramid,
It took one hundred years,
They were from Atlantis,
where the sea drowning did, rear.
Hermes the first and last Adam,
Did float big blocks in the air,
Thought form generated,
Cut an shaped with perfect fair.
Baptist John and Jesus studied,
At the pyramid of Cheops,
Initiated, prepared, thoughts flooded,
Then they left the land of Egypt.
Adam has returned many times,
To help us here on earth,
Not always noticed, steps Jesus climbed,
Showed us the way to worth.
Thoughts are deeds, from times of old,
Could stop you dead, in deathly cold,
Thought’s Indus valley Priests could hold,
Your life gone in an instant.
Don Johnson
Why do we still have murderous terrorists,
Fear is a great generator of thought form worry.
Mass thoughts become deeds.