Best Insanities 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.
Categories:
insanities, death, lust, sorrow,
Form:
Verse
Who’s that Standing
On the Corner of my mind
Shouting out Insanities
Throwing up a hate Blind
Saying I’ve been Abused
Violence will justify the Crime
Pretending, he Cares about me
Secretly Planing my demise
What's that Thing Poisoning my heart in pain
Coloring my eyes Red wishing you would suffer
Pointing at YOU to blame
Surely, he walked in Uninvited while on my Knees I cried
When Desperation turned to Darkness
Good God I never felt YOU by my side
What's that voice Slyly questioning
Sowing Doubts in fields of hope
Get behind me Wicked one
Tempt Someone else
Mixing your Truth with lies
I don't Care for it
I was Born to Live and YOU were made to Die
Categories:
insanities, easter, inspirational, self, wisdom,
Form:
Verse
Let me take you on an adventure,
Through insanities doors, to the land of dementia.
I guarantee you will be spellbound,
While holding on for dear life, riding hell’s bloodhound.
To seek the excruciating pleasures of pain
Where your piercing screams will be my gain
Let me take you through the narrow passage ways,
With the wall embedded razor blades
If you must know, there is only one way in
If you try to go back the blades will rip you skin
And as the passage narrows, believe me the pain will be a real scream.
Why not try the bondage section
This I consider my favourite selection
Watch them sloooooooowly slice chunks from your flesh
And eat them while they are pulsating and fresh.
And when you cry out expressing your pleasure in pain
They’ll gouge your eyes out and eat them, the crunchy sound is appealingly insane.
So if you are interested just sign your name on this scroll
The price is not much just the price of your soul
Categories:
insanities, imagination, places, me, me,
Form:
Rhyme
Drenched of hell’s insanities
Sending chills this tortured spine,
as aches precede the worded fiction
Sorted truth does rest sublime
beneath the light of benediction
Broken dreams of compass flair,
directions cast a blinded waning
Trusted roots abridge the square
of all that’s lost and is remaining
Washed along this fertile beach
of sanded hope and history
Tasting o’ thy patterned speech
as common phrases come to me
Desolate my cornered mind
of images I pray be true
Dangling the lost to find
retaliation in my view
Pray, oh be, as life does rattle
chains of only mist to turn
Laughter like some long fought battle,
in amongst we tend to learn
When the calling comes so random,
names are lost on open seas
One by one in columned tandem,
drenched of hell’s insanities
Take me of thy deepest suture,
so that I may feel the end
Black as night o’ bleakest future,
paint your shadows once again
Razored claw and broken arrows,
filled with such, the violence
Playing through the endless narrows,
falling to my own expense
This, a life that's not worth living,
not this day, not anymore
Breaths so tethered in their giving,
pull the drapes and close the door
Take a seat your exits' waiting,
frozen hinges squeak in time
Find the map for navigating,
somehow through this wicked rhyme
Follow me, I know the heading,
down this staircase, up the hall
End those futile tears you're shedding,
she's not waiting for your call
Through this doorway stenciled broken,
toss your heart there on the floor
It is but a useless token,
you'll not need it anymore
You’re now privy to the meaning,
whether you do understand
Motioned light, this night is leaning,
let it take you by the hand
Now of time and missing portal,
through the lens of sights unknown
Nothing whispers you’re immortal,
for this day you have been shown
It’s Halloween my souper friends.
Posting a few dark ones today. : )
Categories:
insanities, dark, horror, scary,
Form:
Rhyme
My Spiritual life is complicated
Now euphoric next sedated
dilemas daily duplicated
All my friends alienated
Happy times sometimes elated
Spiritual life is complicated
My spiritual life is tempermental
one day strong the next I tremble
Demonic thoughts in turn assemble
The scars you see are not coincidental
Happy or sad so incidental
Spiritual health is tempermental
My spiritual health is sometimes unstable
Battles able with unable
Joy fleeting but always capable
Traumas come with different lables
Hide... then dance apon a table
Spiritual life is so unstable
My spiritual life is so over crowding
Praising now but sometimes doubting
Morbid days that turn to shouting
Love now Hate now afterward pouting
Silent Prayer confusion allowing
Spiritual life is over crowding
My spiritual life is so consuming
flattering self then accusing
Communicating when not confusing
All insanities time consuming
"Show me how" my life's pursuing
Spiritual heath without it losing
Hopefully this will collborate with Eileen Massaih "My Mental Health"
Categories:
insanities, allusion, emotions, metaphor,
Form:
Rhyme
SHOWTIME
Come life and death of it you blessed rhapsody
you've played for long enough and now it's time to go
there's not a better time than now to let it be
insanities its own and best reward you know
deep in the night while there's no certain thing
but passion for the grief that lingers on and on
as damp and cold as fog as hot as summers sting
come life and death of it before this act is gone
there must be question to the ends uncertainty
that's led us guessing, why was this thing said
and is the act onstage or what the actors see
beyond the blinding light among the walking dead
who come to be amused right through our greatest fear
of no aplause; or laughter where there should be none
and we must speak each word for everyone to hear
exactly as they plan so that the show goes on.
and yes they knew the end before the curtain call
but made production's costs a thing to bear
and every star that's in the sky could surely fall
from how it shines tonnight unless the fire is there
they cannot see the moving of the props around
sometimes in pandemonium, at best in haste
nor setting of the stage--this is our holy ground
the tinting of each face the tightening of waist
there no one dares to tread except for those who see
the detail of it all must blend into the play
as carefully as we make this, our tragedy,
the making up must be complete in every way
we must not let the ending go beyond the end
or all is lost and all we'll hear is mumbelings
and lack of press where there has never been a friend
so life and death of it come down though pain it brings
let not the curtain to ascend the play is done
and weary are the actors they've performed quite well
as real as life so now the show must not go on
past curtain fall there's nothing more we have to tell.
© Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
Categories:
insanities, art, confusion, new york,
Form:
Iambic Pentameter
Ah we so crave the sanity
existence must be put in a box
thus we will do all
for such happiness in a box
a creation in ways
of akia
we will drive 100km for a box
building our Swedish dreams
gangnan style
thousands consuming meatballs
no bull
In this crowd I smile in loneliness
floundering close to the sea
Life seems to have fled
the light seems to grow dim
nightmares seep into my torso
I know there is not much time left
before I too am dropped in a box
I ponder
as white rose petals fall at the end of spring
would any lover come to me
take my one arm
as I walk my lobster
In the garden of insanities dream
oh sexy lady
where art thou?
Categories:
insanities, culture, french, garden, introspection,
Form:
Free verse
I don't have bling
I don't rap, play blues or sing
I'll never be a cool black guy
My strut is weak
My cred roams far yonder
Miles away from the street
I'll never be a cool black guy
The booty I shake
The moves that I make
Won't qualify for Soul Train's sake
I'll never be a cool black guy
The name my mother assigned
Won't force Grandmaster Flash to resign
I'll never be a cool black guy
The vocal lords which gospel brings
Cannot pervade thy angel's wings
I'll never be a cool black guy
Cruising slow at sunset
Love, joy, exaltation
Politely asked to pull over
Algorithms bleed into
Indignant subjugation
I'll never be a cool black guy
When a simple arrest
Leads to civil unrest
Then comes the ripple, tsunami
Of economic infest
I'll never be a cool black guy
My options broken, then severed
Left to dangle without a net
The asphalt calls
No qualms or regret
I'll never be a cool black guy
And one leads to two
And two leads to ten
History's palindrome nightmare
To invoke and offend
Why can't our same bag of bones
Simply care, soar, befriend
I'll never be a cool black guy
That diploma on the wall
Smelting books, with brains and gall
Will humanity's insanities
Finally yield beauty
Leading us to stand for all
I'll never be a cool black guy.
(5/22/17)
Categories:
insanities, appreciation, black african american,
Form:
Rhyme
SHOWTIME
Come life and death of it you blessed rhapsody
you've played for long enough and now it's time to go
there's not a better time than now to let it be
insanities its own and best reward you know
deep in the night while there's no certain thing
but passion for the grief that lingers on and on
as damp and cold as fog as hot as summers sting
come life and death of it before this act is gone
there must be question to the ends uncertainty
that's led us guessing, why was this thing said
and is the act onstage or what the actors see
beyond the blinding light among the walking dead
who come to be amused right through our greatest fear
of no aplause; or laughter where there should be none
and we must speak each word for everyone to hear
exactly as they plan so that the show goes on.
and yes they knew the end before the curtain call
but made production's costs a thing to bear
and every star that's in the sky could surely fall
from how it shines tonnight unless the fire is there
they cannot see the moving of the props around
sometimes in pandemonium, at best in haste
nor setting of the stage--this is our holy ground
the tinting of each face the tightening of waist
there no one dares to tread except for those who see
the detail of it all must blend into the play
as carefully as we make this, our tragedy,
the making up must be complete in every way
we must not let the ending go beyond the end
or all is lost and all we'll hear is mumbelings
and lack of press where there has never been a friend
so life and death of it come down though pain it brings
let not the curtain to ascend the play is done
and weary are the actors they've performed quite well
as real as life so now the show must not go on
past curtain fall there's nothing more we have to tell.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
Categories:
insanities, new york,
Form:
Iambic Pentameter
Mind Bender
I try to bend my mind around a straight line.
Pondering the lies imbedded in yesterdays truths.
False prophets, masquerading on wisdoms mountain.
"come taste our wares"
I become intoxicated on prides pie.
Tasting success's extinction.
Lives forsaken,
sacrificed on altars of progress.
Beads of glass breaking in upturned palms
whispers from the fallen,
not allowed to cry out.
The language of their ancestors,
silenced,
erased.
What's left?
Is there any trace?
Oil drips along insanities highway.
Multitudes traveling gleefully in the passing lane,
destination... nowhere fast.
munching on fastfood promises
Heading towards a toothpick bridge,
trusting facades of solidity.
Smiling plastic smiles.
Turning the radio dial,
tuned to stations extolling self pride.
God complex.
"All things are possible if I believe in me!"
Living the dream,
suspended within stupidity.
Unable to bend twisted minds.
Failing to seek the straight and narrow path.
The end of us,
no muss, no fuss.
Time stands still.
Momentary pause.
The earth waits,
catches it's breath.
Abrahams Father,
presses restart...
Categories:
insanities, change, crazy, death, earth,
Form:
Free verse
I don't know about Archbishop Justin Timberlake,
He’s jazzing up the church,
Making Jesus controversial,
Leaving life in the lurch.
It’s fine to have excitement,
About any religious thing or assumption,
But when you poke at liberal creeds,
You’re with the discontentment presumption.
The liturgy does not gel with Sankey hymns,
Which parishioners should not be made to sing;
Fundamentalism is on the way out,
Of Christianity’s credibility wing.
It is emotionally abusive,
To atheistic in-house kids who want to aspire,
To tell of the insanities,
Such tunnel vision requires.
Although I am glad of his enthronement -
It lets evangelicalism out the bag,
I hope to return to a more liberal clergyman,
For the future church ‘mag’.
Fundamentalists won’t admit to the speeches,
Given to their kids who are silent prey;
It’s not fair to live in a society,
Which allows only the understood to convey.
Pluralism is the glasses by which we all see,
Humanism, atheism, religion, and irreligion too,
And the Archbishop is therefore acceptable,
As a beacon of what fundamentalists do.
Freedom of speech and expression,
For some, will only come when we know such acts,
Societal change comes simply from people,
Who’s concepts and ideas become assumed facts.
He was not that successful at decking Wonga,
Anglicans can't quite compete,
With open market transactions,
Which have seemed to withstand the heat.
I don't validate high-interest lenders,
But the church should stick to God,
It should be more into caring,
For the elderly, all on their tod.
About the Archbishop of Canterbury Justin Welby, UK
Categories:
insanities, faith, humor, humorous, religion,
Form:
Rhyme
On site of this forgotten Babylon
What powerful but unrecorded race
Once dwelt in this annihilated place
What strange creature’s kin
to inhuman race
Dwell deep in antediluvian hells
Uncanny things creep
and scurry in forgotten realms
where Poseidon reigns in dark
crumbling cathedrals built
to worship cryptic gods from
outer voids darkest empires
What hell is this of undiscovered divinities
Babylon burns as nations
of man conspiring to touch
the face of an imperfect god
sink to depths deeper undefined
What afterbirth of leviathan
hide in secret chambers
plot damnation to human minds
insanities spawn monstrosities
that doom mens soul and break their realities
In sight of this forgotten Babylon
Along a desolate Mesopotamian shore
What powerful unrecorded species
dwell with in this annihilated place
Where strange creatures akin
to the human race
Dwell deep in antediluvian hells
Ode to Lovecraftian lore…
Categories:
insanities, allah, allegory, allusion, analogy,
Form:
Free verse
After my life fell onto black days and down in a dark hole of nothingness,
Before I knew you wanted something to do with me after all,
Crystals shining beautifully in the night sky might as well have been pieces of dung flung down on me by the mockery of the gods.
Depression became an everyday, never-ending way of life.
Everything had this menacing shadow glazed over it, everything that was once pleasing.
Finally after what's seemed like centuries of grief, I have some peace of mind.
Grains of loving innocence are showered upon me as you speak words of wisdom to your student.
Happiness doesn't seem so far away for us, this couple of kids who know too much for their ages.
Indebted and so grateful am I to you.
Just as you've busted the defibrillator out for the sake of reviving the real me, I vow to do the same for you.
Kindness is in one hand and a tender touch from my lips to yours in the other,
Love from my depths will bring you back from getting lost in the insanities of life.
My darling, my serenity,
Nothing's gonna harm you, not while I'm around.
Ophelia couldn't maintain a grip on her own life, lost in her lover's insanity.
Pretty little face, weak little mind it seems like.
Quiet and weak I suppose I appear to the world.
Rain falls to my chin almost every day, I know.
Surprising as it may be though, I am like an ant, much stronger than I appear.
Together with my serenity, I will be invincible.
Until the day of reckoning, we will rule our land, our surroundings.
Vision will be repaired so we can both see things with the eyes of God.
Water frozen by the ice queen, tainted and murderous will never reach thy lips because I would never let that happen to you any longer.
X's and O's, to and fro, stabs and jabs from old loves past, forget them.
You are mine and I am yours.
Zip close the cover over the glossy mirror and use only the reflection of yourself coming off my gaze, eyes locked for all eternity.
Categories:
insanities, love,
Form:
Abecedarian
Scathing these miscoloured orbs of sight, with incised rocks carved beneath
Concretionaries jagged edges of contagiums....
Painted upon the predominating canvas of perceptions dank, pasteled times!
So what has changed, this mosaic of histories collective collage?
As one way or another many, infused, inebriate their thoughts to inertia
Binding and bound; within these thicker links of connotations chains....
While they bury their bleeding nails into walls; immersed within darker days
Wherein few lives withdraw completely these claws, of concourses contaminating
Which extends itself polymorphously, deeper....
This unknowing muted muse amongst, everbearings, everyway?!
Unto the very core within, bleaksomes mangled maze, of, adapted art....
This abstract and blurried shadow of vagues, prolific presentations
How to pound the hearts into tears, of burnings coffins, set ablaze
Amid the dawning of insanities decrying of decrepits, decores, so displayed....
Within these assylums waiting for their fills
Beyond, the ghostly bars of Baals, notes, now played
By this 'Phantom of The Operas' corpse; deceivings decay, exhumed....
These flaming embers of ashes; fortiums pins of pain!
The crows casting within corners; like shackles upon most; the guiles, of guildeds shame?
This sifting of flour to find the implosion of caverns
Crashing, upon themselves to the suffocating truths, of, their often buried alive....
Subsisting encased within the cages like creatures, placed on exhibit?
An example, of the modern day creations, lifted from the poisoned palettes, of Palladians ways
Swirling within these inversions; smoke upon the rise....
Black splashings, atop the pavement of profounds
Sculptors, with their crucifying knives!
More concise within their uncompromising; binding the bound, within these thicker links of
chains
While they bury their bleeding touch, into the walls of this darklings darkest haze
Wherein few souls escape such palindromic brushings
These, emdedded pigments, of the palinodes days of daze....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Contemporary Art!?
Categories:
insanities, life, nature, sympathy
Form:
My heart has been mixed like a fresh romaine salade
you toss in the drama right along with the mozzerella cheese
before I even knew my wants I was
running away from my needs.
I'm so for love I would do a walk for it like it was AIDS.
Or travel back in time and battle for it like I was in the crusade.
But lately I've been feeling like a marago round that never ever ends.
I'm the child begging to get off but workers can't detect the problem.
Eventually I have to get off. Just like eventually it will be a man or a women
that ultimately rescues me from the insanities of single life.
Eventually I'll do a little twirl for whomever it is.
Sometimes I wonder if my standards are way too high
but than I'm afraid that if I settle I'll miss the one
I've been waiting to finally be that ride or die for.
I like the apple and the banana.
My heart must be obese because I can't seem
find my imfamous fanta girl.
Categories:
insanities, heart, heart,
Form:
Free verse