Best Melancholia Poems

Manic Melancholia

He flew high as a kite with no ceiling concealing his madness

A hawker plying his trade with all prayers lost preying on reason

Sold out flapping wings and the wind soaring no sores attached

No strings yet a puppet found but not lost scraping skies all...

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It seems the rain is coming fast for me again—
The winter ice is drenched with more space to freeze;
Before and behind shadows, the clouds blind play child,
And the moon's ring is further from maiden fingers.

The winter ice is drenched with more space to freeze,
While chimes...

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In my morning’s misty madding slumber,
I rise to face the dreams of yesteryear.
Will today have better thoughts, I wonder.
My mind's a maze of agony and fear.

I live in shadows, daydreams of the past.
my body's aching too in agony.
I softly muse how hours went by so...

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(Somewhere in late 18th-century Europe a friend, Laetitia, by way of a letter warns her beloved girlfriend, Euphoria--a young, gay and unsuspecting mistress--against the almost inevitable seductions of the infamous and maundering philanderer, Melancholia.).



Dear Euphoria,

     Melancholia is one of the more...

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(continued from, "An Epistle Warning against Melancholia: an Allegory--Part I," where somewhere in late 18th-century Europe a friend, Laetitia, by way of a letter warns her beloved girlfriend, Euphoria--a young, gay and unsuspecting mistress--against the almost inevitable seductions of the infamous and maundering philanderer, Melancholia.).


Melancholia’s...

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We mere shadows seek supports
When somewhere else lie our beings
Uncared  for  in inarticulate shores,

By  debris  left of uprisings.
Before the delayed departure
Does our bliss alight for a while

On  precipices. In the brief
Interlude within  eternity.
Can traverse on and on it seems.

We...

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Mournful melancholy makes her miserable, 
Murky moods move her to morosity, 
She's miffed and morbid, her mind is mourning, 
Moping about in mellow melancholia, 
Marred in misery, misty-eyed, she's mortified, 
Melting in maddening malaise of malcontentment, 
Malfunctioning malignancy has made her mean, 
Melodramatic memories magnify...

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Gifted to the special and
wrapped in a blanket without 
purpose, a meaningless tableau
of different faces, each palette
empty of colour

Functional shut down.
Exhaustion to the very core.
This world of hawks and jackals
scavenging the very soul,
and bleak mid-winter lasting 
every revolution of the sun

Too much time to strike...

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I am the rook afar-
of soot and grating voice formed
to your reflection in my distant eye; 
and yet-
I am not so black as I appear 
from wings outstretched 
I soar and observe,
watching life pass me below
the land beneath doesn't seem so threatening from on high
but...

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At the time of night that men call 10:30,
I sit in a corner bar by myself,
Watching two tables---
Clusters of life and sound---
A softball team and their wives/girlfriends/lovers
Drinking softly into the evening

A child's face, released from mother's side,
Floats around the tables,
Serene and white in tavern dusk,
Asking...

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a confined abyss
dis ease,born of despair-
early morning mist
evanescing in
new light-giving care

You may hear me recite this tanka verse and much of my PS poetry on youtube under my pen name ichthyschiro...

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This bittersweet memories led me 
back to yesterday’s laughter;
looking back at the awakening 
and rise of the throb of two hearts 
that were once in love together.
The heavenly hues and 
shades were in sight everywhere.
The chirping birds, the blowing wind, 
and the murmur of waterfall...

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The square is filled with the tingling air of spring
They came from far and near the masses gathered there, 
Celebratory, a bit premature, to shed their outer gear.   

It's the human way, so the elders say to those who ask  
To egg...

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Drooping pen said “enough of melancholia”
Spread words of cheer, like sweet smelling magnolia
Vowed never again to write of misery
So fished for words in diction’s fishery
Who would become the inspiring muse 
Some clever thought or inspiring ruse
Up came blondie Donald duck
America’s ex-president, my potluck
A failed businessman...

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See beyond mere sense, look
The steep way forfeits book

Bubbles in mystic bath
Sense leaking waters rough

Fault finds moves that fumble
In dying distant dangle

Slide upon the slippery
We all fall down easy

Lost souls I remembered
Dying bruised and battered




Leon Enriquez
20 March 2016
Singapore...

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