Best Laying Waste Poems
Humanity
The pagan pilgrimage, sun-worshippers frequently make
Latter-day phenomenon, take off on a Bronze Age break
Constellations change position, solstices realign
Tropic of Capricorn peaks, Cancer starts its slow decline
Astrologers reassure us, the end is not bespoke
Astronomers can’t sleep, has a supernova awoke?
Healthy cells deconstruct inexorably from their core
Runaway chain reactions, laying waste forever more
Be that as it must, cosmic cataclysms generate thrust
Comets are slightly nudged, on a collision course with us?
Ancients believed them omens, wraiths of impending slaughter
Those billion ton tailed curveballs, catalysed Earth with water
Modern man searches for answers, drowning in misnomers
Melding PhD honours, with chatbot E-diplomas
Teleporting entangled particles, throws back a hack
Time travelling marvel, rewinds the real Bronze Age back?
Absurdness seems lame, yet concomitantly germane
Hawking conserved energy, by merely using his brain
Newton had a bachelors, kept him celibate stable
He’d balls of steel for sure, alas no bearings on that cradle?
Information cannot be destroyed, only zeitgeists can
Synthesised is truth, in the malleable hands of man
Life’s more delicate, gravitas hidden behind a smile
Like tales that flightless birds, buried heads in denial
Ostriches evolved kick-ass legs, and win the biped race
They dig shallow pits in sand, not complex black holes in space
One squawked this revelation before zooming off to die:
“Humankind’s the sole species, with good reason to ask why”?
I thought the dust had settled
over what used to be 'us'
but today I found a picture
and heard echoes of your voice
your footsteps in the hall
and then it stopped...
you'd fallen, from choice
and I kept walking
leaving the memory of 'me and you'
It returned, unwanted, unbidden
after being hidden for years
bitter words spoken in haste
laying waste to love
verbal wars were lethal weapons
thrown in bloody battle
and then it stopped...
because I left, but scars remain
grave markers of 'me and you'
We've both moved on
but I still feel you near
in the notes of songs
about a love gone wrong
I tore them from my heart
and then it stopped...
but they left me blue
still playing in my mind
an unfinished aria of 'me and you'
Sometimes I wake
and reach across the bed
then hang my head, bite my lip
And taste salt upon my fingertip
I walk the hall, crying
and then it stops...
when I remember why I left
relive what you'd done
to fracture the memory of 'me and you'
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
June 27th 2017
And then it stopped contest
sponsored by John Lawless
Those who stand their ground...
Their sacred ground...
With their backs against the wall.
Making bold their full intentions
While the slings and arrows fall.
Laying waste an air of happenstance
Permeating sick and feeble minds...
Caring not the monstrous odds
The powers of darkness have aligned.
I fear not this mass of troubled souls
Who demand their pound of flesh.
I contest every foot of treasured Earth.
I contest every loathsome wretch.
I give not an inch to those who dare
Make dark the light of day
To preserve such sacred wanderings
Where the meek would have their say.
I will lift my voice in praise and song
To evince the veracity of my cause
Displaying a knightly measure of gallantry
To give the hapless minions pause.
But sweet victory demands some sacrifice
As a judicious Death may set me free.
Knowing this... would you be at my side?
Would you rise and stand with me?
The End
Voices no longer talk but yell.
Angry legions, carrying banners
along burning streets,
have infiltrated the Temple quiet
with the unholy noise of hell.
Rage has been elevated
to the status of virtue,
division into a hymn.
Soon, fiery eyed militia,
banging their drums,
will be knocking on your door
to present a warrant
to enter your head.
Find a hatch somewhere
into the still
of an inner space
and escape, safe
from the marauding mob
tearing silence apart,
laying waste the State
in the name
of their rowdy god.
STILL TRUDGING…..
TRUDGE….TRUDGE….TRUDGE….
DAY……AFTER…… DAY
fueling the fires of experience
laying waste the fears of failure
laying stone upon stone of truth’s foundation.
STILL TRUDGING…..
through shifting nuances of doubt
itinerant thoughts mindlessly meandering
through the embers of experience
ego fire walking on smoky memory.
STILL TRUDGING….
over the peaks of euphoria’s joy
into the valleys of serenity’s silent calm
wading through the cold truths of mountain streams
laughing at the voices of canyon-less echoes
STILL TRUDGING
through the vagaries of life’s uncertainties
looking to the future
wary of the past
living in the present
leaving footprints on hourglass sands.
©9/16/2019
100 words Poetry contest
count verified on word
Heartbroken Landscape
It was gone
slowly faded as the sound
of the closing door,
unknowingly
erasing all that added
beauty to a day.
The trees - ghoulish green -
ran together
polluting the stream,
caressing the ducks in
an oily ointment.
Sun spots laying waste
the fields
leaving dried, lonely,
twigs of memory.
An aching wind
wailing in terror at
the barrenness of now,
the slow death of
a future.
Clouds, in tortured sky,
huddled in a dark and
hateful spiral.
False rain,
devoid of any promise,
stinging tears
to scar
the stony mountain face,
leaving only mud splash
footprints.
Icy glare of
heartless moon,
silver shivers laid
across a broken land.
Where is our hope?
Waging wars with not sense of direction
Burning down our own homes with no discretion
Fighting for peace with no results
Anger building and no one wants to claim fault
Tired of preaching with no signs of change
Throwing stones at a glass house tryna turn the page
Hope was lost when we realized freedom was never there
Trying to be considered an equal in a world that is unfair
When did the hope leave?
Casting an iron stone with no sense of direction
Anger building all around us like it’s an infection
Trying to make a change with no leader
No one willing to stand up and die for masses
Ready to throw a punch but no organization passes
Peaceful words being lost in chaos
Hope is just a memory lost in his dreams
Marches of peace now lost in the screams
Will hope ever return?
Pass down the words of hope to the new generation
Take away the cloud of smoke and reveal the segregation
Understand we are not free we are where they want us to be
Know that we are stronger together, we can begin to see
That hope is not lost for you, and we can fight
Not for the cause of fighting but to bring forth the right
Casting words and showing strength in a direction
Laying waste to this infectious deception
We are not free because we lack a sense of connection
Without another dreamer who will stop this perception?
The gathering storm rattled snakelike over distant hills,
Heads of dust and debris thrown as charcoal relief
To the vast expanse of the sky;
In the drought of reason, heat radiated a stillness,
Diseased and brooding, motionless as fissured statues
Or corpses in their time of desiccation.
The old grudges quickly stirred, their animation jostling with fever,
Until they burst tall and armoured, bloody hands
Raised up to the heavens;
Ceaselessly goading, provoking war dogs, effected
Reprisals in a rain of missiles, for attrition ruled
The stalemate kingdoms with seething deities.
The storm is coming, a travel of increasing ferociousness,
Laying waste to desert blooms and flesh,
And sat upon the pale horse the name is always death.
Towers of toasted glass and white steel,
Market places, schools and homes…and people…
All fair game carrion before such implicit dominion…
Woe betide humankind as it marches on technology.
We had the evil machinations of war,
Of death unleashed from mouths of guns,
And man-made thunder from above,
Laying waste to home and life and limb.
I've heard of evil spawned
From unreined despotic rule,
Of genocide and how it was designed
To wipe out David's Star.
How gas and gun were by decree
Used to grind a people to the dust.
I see evil in the machinations of men
Conniving to cheat and steal.
But it was not Zyklon of the Holocaust,
Or Sarin and Phosgene
That caused a tragedy
Of scale that was unforeseen.
As men stirred from a restful sleep,
As men went about their work,
As children prepared for school,
As wives stirred their morning pots,
A vaporous miasma was spewed from vents
An insidious evil that soon spread
With sinister intent.
No warning or time was given
As laboring lungs gasped out
Their last precious breath
To be overwhelmed by noxious gas.
They fell like flies upon the streets,
In bed, at work,
At crossings of the rail,
At termini of bus and train,
Their destinations changed
With pitstops of Hell
Before Mercy conveyed them
To their individual definitions of Afterlife.
The Passover in ancient times
Had intent and divine decree
And spared the chosen.
But this?
They said it was an accident
Of neglect,
Corporate cost cutting,
Greed for more and more.
Third December Eighty Four
Was when evil came knocking-
Methyl Iso Cyanate or MIC was its name,
And left its mark forever.
Bhopal, I had cried for thee!
~ 27 Jun 2016~
Based on the Bhopal Gas Tragedy
Disintegrating dreams
I find I can no longer stand
as this ground about me shakes with might.
Thunderous hooves of imaginary wild horses,
panting in heavy breaths, kicking dust before soiled eyes,
claiming to take down fences
of wire and stick, laying waste in sun dried foot prints
creating a mosaic of dream-like designs.
Spiraling uncontrolled as the artist fades like fall colors,
still trapping hopeless romantic thoughts
locked within reach and just out of sight.
Challenging the earth to steady the plates
suspended above me on thin shafts of deep desire,
spinning like clocks in an opposite direction
telling time it has no place here.
Finding that truth is the enemy, I pull the drapes knowing
doorways will caress thresholds that keep out the draft,
yet allow the sunlight to mimic the scattered shade cooling the needs
beneath a paper fortresses . . . and my heart sighs.
For this is life, in its starkest reality,
and what was pictured in youth lingers in the minds of the old.
Pasting cobwebs for effect and smiles not as genuine as they may seem,
days pass and with them opportunities fly like a crying dove
as morning light counts another moment away from this existence.
Why does it seem that endless possibilities end, forever wishes
drown at the bottom of the well amidst even older pennies,
patina claims the skin in the name of a love
found but not shared, carried upon shoulders,
as nothing else is left but to wait . . .
while my dreams no longer wait for me
I stood there in awe
at the sight I was seeing
Facing a mirror,
this horrified being
Staring at me
like a shadow in waiting
Desperate the look
of this moment debating
Tear coated cheeks
as emotions are calling
Fearing the ground,
deeper now slowly falling
Reaching for hope,
as a last act defiant
Only her love,
every feeling reliant
Calling her name
on the echoes now singing
Holding his head
still he can’t stop the ringing
Wondering why
in these hours forsaking
It was inside
of his lonely heart breaking
Knowing he had
something true and forever
Now it becomes
but an empty endeavor
Where will he be
when the sun it is setting
Lost in his dreams
on this day so regretting
Sitting alone
below maple trees shading
Watching his life
in the twilight now fading
Saying good bye
to his every desire
Ashes and all
laying waste to the fire
Facing a mirror
this horrified being
Realizing now
it was me I was seeing
My suffering knows no measure
My brother pained me from the start.
He's made my life a source of misery
With each and every...fart.
I'm not sure what the boy's been eating...
But like all his other friends.
Eventually... indubitably... assuredly
It comes out the other end.
There's a farter in the room... laying waste that can't be seen,
Emitting odors while i'm slowly turning green.
With the fragrance of a skunk... and the odor of a rat...
He's killing all our plants just like some alley cat.
He makes life a trial and tribulation
Making sounds nobody can ignore.
While our parents in desperation
Replete with indignation
Weakly pound upon our bedroom door
I look forward to that glorious morning
When he's suddenly dragged away.
While he's holed up in his room
Like some epic garbage tomb
And they snatch him right from where he lays.
My eight plus years have led to sorrows...
He smelled atrocious from the start.
This bathroom troll... has just one goal...
To annoy me with his heinous... farts.
(Chorus)
No matter what my parents tell me...
We should give this weird boy away.
To someone... who's not big on smelling
With a brain that's gone astray.
All I need is for the gall and daring
To free me from this sordid gloom.
And giving me a break... they would happily gladly take
This boy who reeks of noxious fumes.
(Chorus)
The End
*From a children's musical I've written.
Now it has become hazy
Cutting off the light
Just to merge with the darkness
Slicing off today
Just to end off tomorrow
It bellowed ferociously
Dancing eerily
As it swoops on fate
Manifesting without a date
Wandering with a sure purpose
Stirring away all calm unopposed
Stalking all our inward deeds
sweeping out everyone dreams
Laying waste to vast vanities
Encircling this wanton emptiness
Mounting piles of sorrows
Trading tales of pains and horrors
amidst this madden rush
Heralding this troubling tussle
I Am So Thirsty
I am so thirsty!
How long, I have waited for you ...
you are the storm
the deluge
the massive in-flow
the flood
filling every tiny crack of my soul
drenching my parched, bruised heart
drowning my senses
laying waste to my fears
crashing
thundering
pouring
through the dams
the canyons
of my mind
an irrisistable
undeniable force
point, counterpoint
breaking through my defenses
ripping apart my walls.
I speak
You speak
Fears dissolve
I hear you
I feel you
I need you
I am so thirsty for you!
If music be my insight
Bearing down on this universe
Singing out the oldest song
Making light as it goes along
Feeling through my heartbeat
Cerebral joys that I greet
Savouring delicious
Laying waste to insidious
Long may we honour
Everything that surrounds a soul
Screaming through the silence
Reckless acts of violence
Thoughtlessness and turmoil
Making vats of blood boil
Spilling over innocents
Godlessness and penance
Empty is the caldron
Of sweeter sounds like a lullaby
Comforting the child within
Living flesh that’s inside the skin
Terror in unknowing
While the creatures growing
Cursed the living woken
Anticipation broken
Following the forlorn
Through the dark and unspoken
Momentary pleasures
Relished in tiny measures
Music is my insight
Curdles in the twilight
Makers of the moments
Universe of components
Gladness in tomorrow
No more place for my sorrow
Keen as I see through this face
Alleviated heart that is filled with grace
Somewhere in the morning
Is the warmth of dawning
Triumph in the distance
Symphony in existence