Best Mires Poems
BANSHEE
From out of the dusk, through a thin shaft of light
A dark shape appears on this cold misty night
A disfigured mutation, with a look of forlorn
She’s a tortured creation, she is the unborn
From the bleak depths of hell, and out of its fires
She ghosts in the shadows, the gutters and mires
She can smell the last breath that you take when you die
As she creeps through the gloaming, to wait for the sigh
You can sense her ill presence, and feel her dark power
As she glides on the wind, till the death taking hour
That’s when the creatures, they turn and they flee
As another soul’s claimed, by a wailing banshee
Categories:
mires, horror, imagination,
Form:
Rhyme
How deadly this sweet drink of praise,
that sipped, decays the thing it lauds.
A sly deceiver, 'tis, oh yes,
this chronic craving for applause.
A first place prize, the kiss of death,
to art original and free.
But now is surely lost I fear,
in muddy mires of mimicry.
Categories:
mires, art, poetry,
Form:
Quatrain
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Skipping stones across the still quite waters
While as enclosed within these submerged thoughts....
Pondering this blanket of fogful mist alongst the path, have I tread and beared
As in time as in life as of recent days
Allowing shadows their moments somehow, someway?!
Lost amid the backwards brush of a translations, understanding....
Interpretations tattood upon my heart like an inverted crossing
Blood drenched quills soaked in cardinal red
Etched upon the caverns walls of what should have been said
These words this verse a world and then!?
Skipping stones from my very own Souls bleeding wounds
In gushing currents caught to seep through this they rent
Poisoned dreams; saturated walls aneath ripplings effects....
Rising dunes across quicksand deserts born in the mires; deeper and deeper
Into sedations daze as the storm clouds quickly gather above
Translations from these interpretations of, so called love?!
But how could this be and why I ask myself again
As the undertow of riptides begin to draw them in; further, into their sin...
Blood atop the pages to be extracted this breath of life
Life, that I have longed to embrace; to present
Spilled until its love had morphed into something bent!?
Stepping back from the edge now, upon this mountains cliff
The valley below amid chasteless darkness beckoning unto my Spirit
Calling from beyond; enticing tongues soaked in the stillness of, cortege red....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
....“Skipping Stones” ~
Categories:
mires, hope, life, love,
Form:
Free will whose
An egoic ruse
Please excuse
Offered clues
The mind body enigma
An outer form we call jiva
Inner layer soul or Atma
All within God or Paramatma
This preamble in place
The line of inquiry we face
From our core at an easy pace
Truth recognised solely by His grace
We the jiva with senses external
Having narrow agendas ephemeral
In joy & sorrow rotation cyclical
Live out a life tragicomical
Our the thus delusion
In myriad of maya borne illusion
Egoic thought fuelling confusion
Mires us in stupor of stagnation
Freedom instant by thought cessation
Resting fear & desire agitation
In restful prayerful meditation
Igniting within divine love bliss elation
However being bound by our own hand
Matrix of life yet we are yet to understand
We ask about free will before we can stand
The light within veiled by mundanity bland
So do we have free will ...
We indeed do if we are still
When divine love in our heart we instil
As the elixir of bliss within overspills
As for destiny
Of mind body entity
There is a blueprint but with no finality
Free will determining turbidity or serenity
When will we be free we hear ourself ask
In effortless stillness getting to the task
Is-ness of presence in joy does bask
Having discarded the ego mask
One day
Any day
Today
Hip hip hooray!
12-September-2020
Categories:
mires, spiritual,
Form:
Rhyme
My people
if only you would see
the beauty in you
if for an instant
feel all the emotions
of the buried love deep inside you
Such a glorious day would burgeon forth
released from all the human anthem
would lift the world
to the heavens
If only you would see
as you were made and meant to be
and from the mires and pits
open the gates
to be released
If you could but comprehend
your potential
AH the world would ring resounding
in such joyous unison
would raise up
all that it is
in grateful salutation
My people
if you would but believe
in you
A shinning future
upon this pedestal of earth would rest
in final liberation
this recognition in tender mercifulness
would come
and all tears be wept in compassion
This is you
my people
Too long all your resilience
given to the struggle
too long shoveled into survival
AH my people, awake
for there is more courage
more fortitude
and more love inside you
than you ever dreamed possible
Awake my people
awake.
Categories:
mires, destiny, miracle, trust, truth,
Form:
Free verse
The Balking Mire of Fanghandrath
‘Twas late when the misted veils
Suck and drew
‘pon the reeking fetters of claxon screams
Wailing echoed dismal to
Too late for lantern to pick a path
In the trickster passages
Of the boggish marsh
The Balking Mires of Fanghandrath
Where ‘oer the shake-ed sheaves domain
The Shadow Hunter was know to claim
The souls of less fortune given men
Or the eyes of the innocent
Aye ! They told the story well
Should the hunter of shadows
‘pon your path befall
would devour all in The Balking Mires of Fanghandrath
But needs must some they need
To prove their bravery
Of foolish men never seen again
Returning from the trickster paths of Fanghandrath
Of one such a man who’s courage by beer
Was made stalwart young and without fear
Through the haunted waste he dared to travel
When the misted veils suck and drew
Not yet half way there before the chill ate his bones
And from the rear the rushing fear
Did The Shadow Hunter draw ‘pon his heart
In noisome fog the Rake appeared
Too far to hear the sounds of screams
Too lost in the mazes of dead beaten reeds
To mouth-less to utter a prayer
And beseech the fate of balking mires
No wind it was the laugh, the laugh of Fanghandrath
The hunger of its desolate seed
To feed ‘pon the soul
Of innocent and less fortune given men
‘Twas not till dawn when he reached the rim
Ashen grey his youth had gone
And no shadow did he cast in morning sun
No shadows fall on The Balking Mires of Fanghandrath
Categories:
mires, fantasy
Form:
Free verse
My feet are stuck in the mire
I struggle but cannot free myself
As the mud gets higher and higher.
And the more I struggle and fight
The deeper I go
Down into the murky suffocating
Depths below.
The mud rises now rises up to my waist
I panic arms aloft and let out a primal scream
''Help me''!!!!!!
In haste
But no one comes
As reality bites
About my impending demise
As my muddy grave and impending
Death
As I struggle
With one last gasp of breath.
My bones never discovered
The mires secrets kept
Never missed forgotten
Not even a whisper of a thought
In anyone's mind of me
No sadness or regret.
I am nothing.
Peter Dome.Copyright.2015. May.
Categories:
mires, anxiety, emotions, fear, grief,
Form:
Free verse
Seawater smell and sultry air
Of tropics I dream in despair!
Oh, those days under hot sun!
Oh, those nights that I had fun!
My youth, my every thought and wish
Then could be told as devilish!
The time when I was on the edge,
The Fortune’s bids that I could pledge!
My poor asks, my brave desires –
All once again found in mires!
When only sky, and wind, and sea
Were all my friends and family!
In spite of everything I’ve done,
In spite of present days rush run,
In spite of words that I would say,
In spite of games I used to play,
In spite of all unwritten lyrics,
I do devote my panegyric
To youthful fame of mine and more
To days that come back nevermore!..
Categories:
mires,
Form:
Rhyme
And the leopard shall lie down with the kid
Isa. 11:6
My, my, my
Fancy meeting you here, kid
You're looking good enough to eat,
you got good taste, I can tell
Back in the day,
you woulda made a mighty fine leopard treat
But I'm a vegetarian now,
don't that make you wanna say, holy cow
Well, well, well
I'm flattered how you spotted me so easily
You see I'm stepping with a new look,
I'm not the same person I used to be
No more billy goat, stubborn and tough streak;
now, I'm just a nice, tender-hearted person,
no longer selling myself like a piece of meat
Indeed, indeed, indeed
It's a new world we're living in,
and all the changes look very good to me
No more predators, high brow
Puffy hearts, no elite
No more helpless prey,
or diseased minds
No more spiritual effete
Um, um, um
The purr of your voice sounds so sweet,
I'm loving the words you're speaking to me
No more cruel urban jungles,
or village mires of poverty
No more vacuous rural living,
no more suburban sterility
Let's give a non-fermented toast,
fare good riddance to the old way
Yes, let us come eat, drink and be merry,
refresh our souls at the new world café
Categories:
mires, bible, christian, love, peace,
Form:
Rhyme
Racing with the forces trying to keep ahead;
Missed some turns a while ago going straight instead.
The ghosts are out there watching shooting balls of fire;
I can see them as I’m passing singing like a choir.
The crock is shedding tears but its laughing liker a clown
Its face is in the windshield and I’m trying to run it down.
Don’t know much about a mother but life sure qualifies;
And you can keep those one room boxes down here in these mires.
Can’t imagine dropping anchor but sometimes I’ve slowed down;
Mostly when locked in loves embrace and listening for that sound.
Ahead I think I see it, an up and coming light
But it’s probably just the daylight that passes out the night
Categories:
mires, life,
Form:
Rhyme
“But none of these things move me; nor do I count my life dear
Unto myself, so that I may finish my race with joy....” ~
Panning for gold to gather jewels from the rivers bed flowing
Through the heart of this life aneath its, gravel and mire; murk?!
Not that I may purchase the things of this secular world to possess
Its material mirage yet, to attain the clarity in this centripetal beauty
Arising, from the spirals soot of its offerings amid burnt ashes....
Recycling this montane muse as being strained through its percipients grid
Compelled to be driven through a mazes vague imitations; tombs or treasures
Binding the blind to be cast into a temporals pit of pleasure, at a pawns price!?
Hidden cost within an indecipherable code; torn from pages crafted in deceit....
Running amid a margins marathon that has no finish lines of promise except
Crowns of thorns to wear imbedded in eyes which bleed their nights passing
In black magics blurry visions; from which I arise every morn when I awaken?!
Finding my way unto the crystal waters that I may pan for gold as sifting through
A recycled mythmakers maze of, mystiques strained and muddy mires....
***********************************************************************
....“In Search of, `My Beautiful Father's Treasures.'” *
Categories:
mires, hope, life, love, life,
Form:
A new religion
That can the future divine
A new god
That can tell us whence we came
A nirvana of nonsense
That only increases our ignorance
A dismal wreck to people’s conscience
We fight among ourselves
To shed as much blood
As a sacrifice to hatred requires
We have long since forgotten
What bits of our philosophy are true
We rarely say to a brother
“I love you”
The latest craze
Is a thirst for equality
The building blocks are still the same
Only a different caste
Wanting fame
Ambitions abound to make utopia
A realistic goal
The will exists
In blinded enthusiasm
Only checked by petty obstacles
That flummox those
Who cannot calmly take
A long term view
When change is being prescribes
For any ills
Mockery and mistrust
Can saddle one with Spiralling doubts
Causing a catastrophic implosion of will
The comfort of familiarity
Swaddles the mind tightly
Preventing sightings of a future anew
The strength to overcome must be conjured
Out of a black-hole of anxiety
A new set of myths is needed
That promulgate ideas
Which lay bare ones hand
With no backing of reasoned empirical dogma
That can slay some persistent doubts
Selfishness often mires a good cause
Those that scream for a revolution
May only want self-interested change
It is often impossible to know the enemy
Who looks just like you and me
Survival is essential
For a battle royal
Leaves no one standing
The prize is of no use
If none can claim it
Change should be beneficial
But Actions have reactions
Goodwill can create
Unintended disasters
That no span of time can dissipate
It might be that one day
We will all get along
Till that day of peace
We must struggle on
Categories:
mires, change, society,
Form:
Prose
Swift
winds drift
parading
hopes cascading
lift
Zephyr's delight
caressing branches in the breeze
Zephyr's delight
Spirals of light
flickering shadows from the trees
Currents of erotic winds tease
Zephyr's delight
Spires
from mires
of gray sway
and receive thrills
as the soft whispered breath of Zephyr spills.
Rushing
Gushing
Fleeting
reeting
Zephyr races Rushing, Gushing through
He passes so Fleeting, Greeting few
Zephyr's
endless travels
across earth's face he'll stir
his caress gently unravels
wonder.
His winds entangled in the vines
that tickle`spines
and softly kiss
us with his bliss.
He sweeps the fields of golden corn
within the morn
and tickles grass
as he zips past.
Oh, Zephyr's voice around us trills
his sweet song spills
into a dance
of sweet romance.
Zephyr
Heavenly, immortal
Whirling, swirling, twirling
Grand, graceful Roman God; Grand Graceful Greek God
Whirling, swirling, twirling
Heavenly immortal
Aeolus
Forms used in this piece:
Stanza 1- Lanturne
Stanza 2- Rondelet
Stanza 3- tetratractys
Stanza 4- Tyburn
Stanza 5- cinquain
Stanza 6- minute poem
Stanza 7- diamante
Categories:
mires, nature, sweet, sweet,
Form:
Cinquain
A child's Spirit misty eyes touched of, Love's beauty...
Baby's roller coaster ride this young old man; teeter tottering
Cascading emotions revolving doors these their shipwrecked world
Kept as timeless bottles washed upon her shores; tears lost ? An infant dreams
While global's news shouts it's taunting but another day, sorrows truths
In fangs draining precious hearts; a special report crafted of pick and choose ?
Sea to shining sea his bumble bee, with words which sting; less the honey
Be her queen crying atop a water lily floating amid their mires ? Tainted cards
Pressed as shuffling these poisoned pools ever quenching hopes torch she bleeds..
Trails in despair and the babies still scream ? Trickling from her cheeks; we run
Diapers clutched their tender hands racing past his watchtower set aflame ? Teary
Tiny lights smitten by death's smoke-filled skies your darkness dictating; pains next lines.
Categories:
mires, art, baby, cancer,
Form:
Strips of pale silken scarf
On the soft crimson light
Spreading from land to sea
After the blackness of night
Amid sighing moonstone of seeded saturn
A crow is crowing to break up the pattern.
Kanya Kumari high monarch’s maid
High colour in her cheeks of sunset
And a foamed white set in her face;
Her father departed for the Kailash parbat
To find the fair maiden a suitable match
And found Shiva there meditating
Which the heavens chose as her consort.
The gods became nervously worried
That in case the pretty maiden married
Who will kill Raku the demon?
With his jostling gestures at large
Sowing the dreaded terrors in all
Because the maiden full of beechen blooms
Could cast a spell of beauty over demon alone
And kill him without any weapons thrown.
The marriage was then fixed
For some hour of the midnight
And Shiva waited in his dark cavern
For the auspicious time to arrive.
But gods took shape of a cockerel
Which darted and crowed at midnight
With calls awash Shiva became agitated
And cursed himself for being overslept, vegetated
As the morning has come, he has betrayed the maiden
Sorrowful he left forever, under the clouds gloom laden.
Kanya Kumari waited for her consort
But alas the hour of midnight gone
In her despair she plucked some flowers
And threw it into the sea over the bowers.
Though the horizons are red
After the bloods of the midnight
The maiden still waits there, forever
Keeping vigils over every path in sight.
Kanya Kumari is the goddess of hope
Of drenched patterns, of agitated lore
In elevated hope that ever suspires
She waits forever amid despairs and mires
But glooms are hindered by her bright desires.
Categories:
mires, allegory, hope, lost love
Form:
Lyric