Best Oracular Poems
Genial to avoid confrontation
Baseborn kind, complaisant character
A spurious recital, a cheap imitation
Apocryphal mind, and comical creations
Counterfeited Christ
An unholy effusion
Sons of Belial
Clutch arcane knowledge
Esoteric information
Delve into oracular verse.
Deadened faith
Recondite belief denuded denials
Portentous and abstruse
Divested of the truth
Desolate road
Traveled day after day
Seriatim in miles
Strangled in hyperbole
Hypothetical noose
Cheaply loose
Tightening
methodically
Suicidal salvation
Covertly clandestine
Do what art wilt
Deliver the chosen
indoctrinate guilt
Derision to the destined
To learn love over hate
Adoration to inculcate
Imbue their sick lessons.
Part One
“The Kurral owes much of its popularity to its exquisite poetic form. A kurral is a couplet containing a complete and striking idea expressed in a refined and intricate metre. No translation can convey an idea of its charming effect. […] The brevity rendered necessary by the form [composed in the Venpa metre] gives an oracular effect to the utterances of the great Tamil ‘Master of the sentences.’ They are the choicest of moral epigrams. […] Tiruvalluvar is generally very simple, and his commentators very profound.”
Rev. G.U. Pope, Former Fellow of Madras University
[Pardon these futile measly words from your great Potiya height: they can hardly belittle your true worth.]
Under what leaky hutment roof by stamped-mud floors
trembling clair-oscuro straw-wick kuttuvilakku
on the stark anvil of crisp phrase and sparse syntax
by the raging nama-nir rhyming brine
at Mayilapur’s S.Thomé sandy doors
while peacocks danced to your innate pulsating chimes
have you chipped away at uncut gems
Those the Yavanas brought with the monsoons
or such as your sea-daring captain friend Elela-Cinkan’s
Even those the Christian missionaries preached
in daredevil enticement
after St.Thomas fell to a vel stuck in his bosom
or of those like you who were stamped underfoot
Caste in cast-iron strictures
Priest only to the proclaimer paraiyar drum-beaters
The warp and woof of intricately woven venpa verse
elevating your weaving clan to fresh artistic heights
YET
in the humbled ways of your birth
on whose steps have you pitched your ears
whose wisdom have you had to pilfer
filter
whose ways have you had to ape
whose mere thoughts have you then had to set aright
ennoble
and remould into inextinguishable lines
Or had you tread the ahimsa path of gentle-foot Jains
Treading gently the earth for fear of loping boot pains
(Continued in Part Two)
I see heaven's natural satellite of the earth,
the twilit lunar reflection after the sun sets-
The Halloween moon gently bows down,
feeling all the children's tiny footsteps.
I see the ghosts walking among the streets,
shades of crimson blood soaked vampires-
Shadows of black with grey misty fog,
intrigued with all the scary costume attire.
Fear in me as I approach a haunted house,
fake saws cutting bodies looking so real-
Creepy clowns chasing me in a corn maze,
my heart races and I start to frantically squeal.
Frightened by the sounds of the walking dead,
spirits rising on Halloween night every year-
The cemeteries reek of cessation and fatality,
watching one-hundred-year-old zombies appear.
The witches and warlocks bring out their talisman,
conjure spells and perform human sacrifice-
Werewolves creep out from the woods with ease,
I watch as the innocent children they entice.
On the oracular night of the revered Halloween,
cryptic creatures roam the earth indiscreet-
They fit in perfectly without being acknowledged,
the children should be careful as they trick-or-treat.
Halloween Night Contest
October 12, 2016
"What does light have to do with darkness!?...."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Like mixing champagne miscreants
Within a simile laced frosted glass
Of crystalline stones mingling these
Crowned guises....
Fatidities of peremptory phantasms
Oracular silhouettes of the predisposed?!
Rising in unison unto a collective toast
Toward deceptives destiny; their very own
Whisperings billowing within ceramic tones....
These phantoms of the Pharoahs final call
Unto finalities masquerading opera
Respondez, s'il vous plait!?
Where on a blackened tie adorns this omnibus
The guest of honour with such, hollowed eyes
Smiling, as pressage greets them all....
Raising this metaphoric flume; a symbolic vessel
To these midnight mass miscreants of soporifics
Fatiditized oraculary made realities; fasicles
Standing before phelonians robes of fallacy?!
While as fantasias final chords begin their
Beckoning from afar; this preemptive echoing
Personifications, blood red rose....
Calling, afore this latter days gatherings of
Soon to be forevers, predisposed; ex parte
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
....The final toast!?
Note: ~ A resurrecting moment from Halloween 2008....
~ "'Love' & Warmth, Always," John!:) ~ "Hebrews 12."
Smile ~ "Its 'A Beautiful Day,' So Don't Let It Get
Away!?":) ~
A woman who lost everything she owns stands there
by the waterfront where the waves beat upon the shore.
The woman-transformed-***** is a prisoner of war
being carried to the foreign land of an enemy general
across the sea; she cries ceaselessly tears in her eyes
for the unbearable sorrow, she barks fiercely in intolerable anger.
In the eyes of the woman who gazes up
the top of heaven from the bottom of the deepest sea.
She sees the last images of her blood-stained husband,
her dear sons and daughters, died in agony.
For her husband, she shared everything she owned;
for her children, she cradled and lulled them in her bosom to raise—
except for one son who was abandoned in the field at the time of his infancy because of an oracular ill omen.
All these sorrows are unwanted bitter memories to recall, crueler than
the cruelest fate for a woman to undergo.
Now, she climbs higher up the mast
to appeal to her deep inner heart’s mortification;
to let others see her transmuted figure, an ugly *****,
her annoying bark reaches to the furthest point of the sea.
Is Amphitrite heard her heartrending cry?
For the ship lists by the billow Poseidon rises,
alas, but then, she loses her balance and falls
to the deck vomiting blood, she ends her pathetic life;
this *****’s resentment tossed by the raging waves,
at the end, was thrown upon the shore and became a standing rock.
The rock beckons the ships that pass the straits to tell her grudge,
but to the heedless seafarers’ ears it sounds like the mere surges
that come and hit the rock. However, at times, it sounds
in their ears, like a ***** barking feebly from her bleeding heart
because of all her puppies are taken away;
that’s why, legend says,
the sailors called this rock “the poor *****’s rock.”
surrounded by incredibly
talented
oracular
spectacular individuals
bonded by word
spoken
yet heard to the third....
Power!
awake
within the stillness
this hour
harmonically invested
spiritual benevolence
fuels their army of relevance
the rarest people you'll meet
standing up for freedom
feet to the street
sharing their fearless soul
with body and mind aligned
complete
in control
*(dedicated to Moody Black's Upstate S.C. Poetry team, and Dr. Richard Moss)
The lips are baked, cracked
Disfigured
The eyes gaunt and
Hollow
Face skeletal in the monsoon,
Wrinkled-
The plague has come.
The Oracular Verb calling,
Humans lurking phantoms,
The moon asleep in the frost:
The plague! The plague!
The hunters are armed
Toe to teeth
Spears and matchets gleaming
Out for the hunt.
The plague.
“ nuë ngông,”
Bless us all,
Fight the plague.
Bodies fortified
Palm wine drunk-
Arrows dipped in poison:
Hunters shrieking into the forest,
Hunting their own aggrieved ancestors.
(part 2 informal poetic)
In a poem by Rumi,
In a 24 hr laundry mat,
in a silent cry for innocence,
In a fractured skull reality,
in the bottom of a pit deeper than self,
I found it in the strangest music, such has never been heard before.
It still has yet to be written; breathlessly waiting for a creator to
move in and bring air to the lungs of its form. Every now & again I awaken
to a more easily collapsed reality, knowing even then it is still immortal,
So I found it!
In the tombstones of ancestors,
In cavernous cavities leading the subconcious to the physical brain.
In unanchored dreams that once led to oracular screams,
In barbaric acts of vision,
Transcendental eye like,
A diademic explosion against her thighs,
So I found it!
Sizzling across the palettes of children
ready to look the future in the face,
Chin up, Speaking into the alchemy of form
Everything that we can be.
So I found it!
---------------
"What does light have to do with darkness?...."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Like mixing champagne of miscreants
Within a metaphoric glass
Of crystalline stones....
Mingling amid these guises
Fatidities of peremptory phantasms
Oracular silhouettes of the predisposed
Rising in unison unto a toast
Toward the destiny of their very own....
Whisperings billowing within their glasses
These phantoms of the Pharaohs final call
Unto finalities masquerading opera
Where on a blackened tie, adorns
The guest of honor; hollowed eyes
Smiling, as he greets them all
Raising his metaphoric glass
To these miscreants, of crystallized stone
Fatidities oracularly made realities
Standing before phelonions robes of fallacy
Fantasias final chords....
Personifications, blood red rose
Playing, now, before the final gathering
Of eternities silhouettes, forever, predisposed!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
...............The final toast...............
An eclectic ,miscellaneous daybreak .
like chimera overflows.
We always gaze at a suffocating ,thorny
lark.
The undaunted , unfearing lark frequently
embraces a vexatious butterfly.\
In the realm of anguished, harsh words
the transient, wild dusk thrives like
a rambling rose.
A daring dawn never escapes from
a shattered , stormy sea.
The homogeneous , ashen chains
of the moon echo the valor of a lionhearted
meadow.
The resolute, soundless sun festooned
with a dreamlike love.
The tapestry of truth yells out
like a , cheerful rainbow.
The flaming ,starry hope never yields like
an oracular delight
The tyrannical tears like the ultimate hues
of the universe stem the hidden verity.
The illicit flames of cajole will wane like an impetuous act of wind.
Annul with impervious aplomb
Waxing perspicacious avenues
Clearing the nebulous
The schism extricate judicious clarity
Vicarious envoy
Omnious stance
Intrinsic string of which I now belong accrues each dawn
Tenable apotheosis oracular
Aberrant paths engage in the light as the nocturnal recividist abated
The diaphanous window capitulated to alloy
Congential precedence gives prerogative by inveterate enigma
Tangible motif clings
Precarious simplicity carry ubiquitous propensity
Equanimity and audacity interchange
Swrod for Sword
Faux Pas to be no more
Impeccable prowess on inimitable wings
To be cognizant is to see
Rendezvous at the fete
Its adjacent to everything
Magnanimous in all things
Taciturn to the ludicrous
Anithetical of perdition
Verbatim by the imbued
Repertoire 9f the genesis
By Christy Teas
Breaking thru the clouds
with the power of light
as a song bird sings
untill the night
healing the wounded
as a chariot thus fly
plucking his lyre
as he opens our eyes
this oracular God
whom can heal or kill
protecting the sun
with a musical gun.
I am now
In the midst
of shaping shifts
into riddled bits
of cryptic myths
with oracular mist
from a mystical rift.
For the day
that I intrinsically
invisibly exist.
Born unto a family
of late blooming wizards
in supernatural asylums
with majickal wand bombs
and glistening crystal scissors.
I will turn that leaf—
No matter what’s underneath,
Till nothing is left—
But the skin of my teeth.
Isn’t it weird how I disappeared?
"What does light have to do with darkness?...."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Like mixing champagne of miscreants
Within a metaphoric glass
Of crystalline stones....
Mingling amid these guises
Fatidities of peremptory phantasms
Oracular silhouettes of the predisposed
Rising in unison unto a toast
Toward the destiny of their very own....
Whisperings billowing within their glasses
These phantoms of the Pharaohs final call
Unto finalities masquerading opera
Where on a blackened tie, adorns
The guest of honor; hollowed eyes
Smiling, as he greets them all
Raising his metaphoric glass
To these miscreants, of crystallized stone
Fatidities oracularly made realities
Standing before phelonions robes of fallacy
Fantasias final chords....
Personifications, blood red rose
Playing, now, before the final gathering
Of eternities silhouettes, forever, predisposed!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
.............The final toast.............
M-Most
I- Incredible
C- Cosmic
R- Reality
O- Outlining
C- Cosmological
O- Ongoing
S- System,
M- Mystical
O- Oracular
S- Stimulus!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
12 December 2019