Best Miasmic Poems

I dream poetry;
I breathe poetry, for poetry 
calls your name, feeling your 
inerrant essentia—
your soul bleeds into mine—
a collision of cosmos, 
diffused magnetically, once 
a vagrant in a haze of miasmic 
vapors—wildered and exposed—
you unshackled me from 
this purgatory;
inversely immersing me in 
your sphere of...

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A marionette to the mind,
Whispering fading schematics,
Deluging the heart and soul, in a 
Juxtaposition of good and evil, 
Betwixt Heaven and hell, amidst
Snowdrifts that swirl before my eyes, while 
Spiritless shadows restlessly carouse;
Discordantly, far from reach,
Vagrantly ambling across
Deadened Arcadias, glimpsing 
Floating embers, in wake of...

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IT REEKS ANEW
by
JOHN M. ARRIBAS


When a Cow Defecates Onto the Grazing Field
There Is a Stench, That All Miasmic Odors Yield
But Given Some Time the Weathering Will Seal
And the Original Discomfort Becomes a non Deal
However, If the Deposit Is Stirred, the Odors Return
Leaving Old Conflicts Alone,...

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An opened fifth of hangovers
rests beside his dried driveled arm
(drug used by underachievers.)
Out cold, head resting on forearm
Unconscious in a dreamless world,
a portal often frequented:
an alcoholics netherworld
and mind most disoriented.
A parched throat forces arousal
And miasmic exhalations
rekindle once more pitiful
repeated, inebriation.
A morning swig begins his day
and...

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Calypso red dressed in dawn’s vague morning mist
Splendor painted behind the miasmic curtain
An enigmatic temptation dripping of murk and shadow
A delicately cruel mélange lost within nature’s backdrop
A barb in the thigh of our daily pious pilgrimages
Imprisoned beneath a shallow earthy grave
Forcing and screaming it entices...

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When summer pierces earth and dying root,
And winds, the golden-honeyed flowers sweep,
And liquor rays bathe every bud and shoot,
Newly awakened from the depths of sleep,
When pollen springs forth in white, seasoned clouds,
Miasmic dreams, like visions, pure and sweet,
When gentle rainy mist the land enshrouds,
And tiptoes...

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THE SENTINEL
by
JOHN M. ARRIBAS

					

I took the elevator to the lobby of the small hotel
I’d been here six days the ennui was starting to tell
I’d been sent to cover an international gathering
Sessions so long and dull my mind took a battering
My last night in Buenos Aires...

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The dimmest portion
Of a brighter light be I
Trapped in a miasmic
Cloud of misconceptions...

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Burgeon within her grace
For soon your eyes shall open
To the wondrous truth abounding
For you now hold the key
In mourning we stand bewildered
How can we truly comprehend
The divinity of pure freedom
Granted to such a miasmic soul
A passing of love and strife
Upon this ever turning wheel
Molting from...

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Timidity pronounced them timorous,
Stout hearted glanced askance on their lot,
Scare of fear chagrined their visage,
Gladiators belittled their blushes,
As they sunk deeper into quagmire of luxuries,
They became laughing stock of laboring laity,
They proclaimed theirs was high echelon,
Those below clamored to take over reigns,
Deceit ,manipulation,greed and gluttony,
Turned...

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Emotion is the designer of dream 
Search for the meaning of feeling is futile 
As they mingle totally in my twilight time   
My mind sinks in dusky obscurity 
Impulses unexpressed. 

After the wasted walk in the miasmic day
The meandering garden path I’ve lost...

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SPIN MASTERS SPINNING AWAY THE DAY
Every moment
I turn on the TV
What do I see
Nothing but liars laying down lies
Spin Masters spinning spam of deceit
 
Chanting
The truth will set you free
White is black
Black is white
Lies are true
Truth is a lie
Lies will set you free
 
I see...

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miasmic,


alighting the foul bourgeois powers that be


bounce like carrion crows


on the prone corpse 


of the bled world....

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IT'S NOT TOO LATE

God gave me a blank diary, its pages numbered,
and in the hand of destiny a pencil for my take
when I came in this beautiful world enamored
to write the distinctive story of my life I’d make.

I traveled a winding path, destination unreached,
couldn’t get...

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A dolorous mournful miasmic hue,
colors all of my closing days blue, 
sweetness of days gone, 
that can't be retrieved, 
has me missing those souls 
whose death left me aggrieved, 
life should be lived with the relish of youth, 
before old age comes and 
confirms cold...

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