Best Paroxysm Poems
Abuses hurled and Alcohol gurgled,
In the vortex of confusion
And blurred vision.
Intoxicated pleasure from surreal leisure.
Fooled senses and numbed conscience.
Wiped existence of love and kindness cuffed.
Lashed at the one he once loved.
Cringed and clung to her faint faith.
She and her cursed fate.
Exploding paroxysm of hate.
Her whipped ivory skin and bleeding lips,
Eyes with teary tinge,
Has the harvest moon singed.
Stillness of the night, pierced
By memories of bitterness-sodden years.
"Hurt me not", she trembled with fear,
"let me live for my girl, dear".
The cries colored skies crimson.
Just one reason--Her little girl.
As her daughter stared
With flaming locks and eyes that flared.
By Angom Amy (15)
Categories:
paroxysm, abuse, dark, social, sorrow,
Form:
Blank verse
The rosa blanda embroidering your face
will become the veins in my tongue reaching to clog my throat
go past the tonsils and vocal chords and windpipe
down and down still, burrowing into the esophagus
relentless in its pursuit, just, just, just to lay seeds in my chest
tumor a pea, peanut, grape, walnut, lime, matilija, peach, grapefruit
straining muscle surprising itself with the ability to withstand the stretch
craving asphyxiation, those lungs may covet paroxysm
but grieve not the fulfillment of a destiny
this ache, this devastation was meant to be
no, they won’t be careful of what they wish for
you’ll become the air I swallow, and the organ that inhales and exhales it both
viciously lush beauty anywhere and everywhere
so when you see the body that used to be mine,
you’ll gasp in horror or awe or both: which one? I’ll never know
the garden you planted nurses no speech, nor soil, nor hope of infertility
just a promise of bloom and perpetual harvest
a pretty letter from dainty lips, viscous honey quenching its thirst
a giddy blush warming embryos out of stout cases
a brush of apple-sun cheeks dawning moonlight-budding leaves
just a gaze and my heart will melt,
sand that brazenly melds into laminated glass
gifted to strong hands smothered in peppermint lotion
who will keep it safe in their loops, whorls, and arches
brindle cedar irises roots to this infatuation
their existence cruel to a poet who only knows
words mere facets unworthy of describing
fields of cosmoses a cosmos itself
choking on fantasies and tears of scarlet drupes,
I retch out garlands born in guileless meadows
and as the last petal falls,
the sweetest rose hip takes branch
its only sin a love too big
Categories:
paroxysm, beauty, love, surreal,
Form:
Free verse
Gone with the winds that tenderly blow
The time has come for you to go
I now shall stand awaiting this time
When emotions disperse like flakes of snow
To become a memory is somehow *****
For it now all appears so near
And an instant shall come for it all to fade
Into a night that at dawn shall disappear
Sorrow has kept me lying awake
Yearning to find perhaps a mistake
For desire leeches upon my heart
Provoking a feeling of an agonizing ache
In the throes of a sorrow so profoundly deep
A paroxysm urges my eyes to weep
Yet on the morrow I shall move ahead
I shall leap… I shall leap…
Categories:
paroxysm, angst, hope, time
Form:
Rhyme
Paroxysm of pain inflicts this pen,
tears cry poetic allusion.
When petal hearts are misunderstood,
life is full of confusion.
Distasteful thoughts set camp in my mind,
an unwelcome intrusion.
Virgin pages innocent in white,
yearn to wear this mind's effusion.
Too many deep unanswered questions,
lead to a false conclusion.
When judgement lacks honest intellect,
darkness defeats diffusion.
Sun is cautious to cast my shadow,
intolerant in inclusion.
Forever immersed in freezing rain,
victim to their collusion.
When metaphorical daggers scar,
they say it's an illusion.
Melancholic lacerations scream,
ignored by deaf delusion.
I'm bleeding, but you ignore this blood,
it's too late for a transfusion.
Silently sad soul seeks solitude,
far from sound in seclusion.
Silent One
Simple Musings
1 February 2018
Categories:
paroxysm, analogy, angst, dark, fate,
Form:
Monorhyme
The battle between body and spirit
Housed as I am,
in this earthenware vessel
I witness,
the raging between body and spirit.
My mood- sullen and morose,
a telling sign-
a flashing indicator-
pointing to a weakness in my will,
a slow debilitating decline in my convictions-
indicating a buttressing of my resolve-
is urgently needed.
This paroxysm has been a body blow,
and my spirit is reeling.
I am cloistered, incarcerated now these three years,
having served a portion of my sentence.
What is my crime?
These four walls,
such contemptible, wretched creatures-
mock me, taunt me, deride me
as weak and worthless;
but I know better!
I am shackled to the two evil twins-
misery and myalgia-
myrmidons- secret agents of the devil
serving at his pleasure.
Hell-bent they are on a wicked crusade
raping and pillaging the golden storehouses
of my treasured faith and hope.
Sacred vaults protect my integrity,
my zeal is still intact.
As I wrestle with my afflictions
I throw tantrums-like a feral beast
charging towards the drawn sword.
However, I succumb to the inevitable.
I sense the folly of the fight and submit,
although-unwillingly to this intransigent,
auto-immune disease.
How do you fight an enemy who is
entrenched in your marrow?
This enemy is coercing me on this death march
and it is unrelenting in it's insistence.
The gates of Sheol* beckon to me to enter,
I resist the clarion call, although the gravity
draws me ever closer to my sealed fate.
I see visions of paradise, here on earth,
where pain is no more,
and all suffering is a distant memory
until eternity erases it from my mind.
Unfortunately, for me,
looks like I'll be taking the subway,
instead of the train to paradise.
December 17,2018
For Misery contest Edward Ibeh
*Sheol Hebrew for the grave.
Not hell as a burning place of torment
as is commonly taught and believed.
Categories:
paroxysm, evil, faith, health, hope,
Form:
Free verse
Beneath the cold glare of the desolate night,
They came, greedy and insatiable white creatures,
Cloaked in prim pretense,
Every curve of their features seemed to express a fine arrogant acrimony and harsh truculence.
Expectation darkened into anxiety,
A thousand unutterable fears bore irresistible despotism over our thoughts,
Men, ladies and children collapsed into a dreary and hysterical depression,
Leaving us drowned in the deep reticence of the colonial sea.
As arbitrary as a cyclone and as killing as a pestilence,
With a sweet voice caroling like a gold-caged nightingale,
They looted our abundant resources,
And abolished many of our African customs and traditions.
They enslaved us!
Underdeveloped us!
And reduced us to nothing.
Gleams of sunlight, bewildered like ourselves, struggled, surprised, through the mist and disappeared,
Half choked by a rising paroxysm of rage,
The hollow ring of their fundamental nothingness were defined,
With the blood in our eyes, matchets, bows and arrows and diplomacy,
Then the fight and chase began!
Categories:
paroxysm, slavery,
Form:
Free verse
I am losing you again
White, oh your skin, whiter than pearls…
I sit here, trying not to stare,
Serene you are, as you lie in your bed,
How awful could agony become?
I am losing you again
Chapped and faded your divinely drawn lips…
Opaque, the spark in your eyes, it no longer exists,
Uttering out the words, "you had my heart from the start,"
Lament, your words are, as your lips part,
Does God really need another angel by His side?
Exasperating, your paralysis, suffocates me…
Abashed I awake, from a nightmare,
Throbbing, I almost submerged your sheets with gasoline,
Yelping,
Oh poor baby, you are so soggy from the chemo,
Undying, everlasting we are, hang on my love,
Rusting your skin, your sickness is so ruthless, to kill you,
Could I really break the wall my pride has built?
Angst haunted me as I listened to the mournful,
Notes of the saddest symphony existing…
Could I please place a red rose on your mahogany sepulcher?
Endless our love is, as a paroxysm of pain,
Rushed through my blood,
Amid the purple phlox, and the emerald elms,
Waves of distress, overwhelm,
As I realise how your anguish was so true,
Yesterday, I wished I had died instead of you…
Categories:
paroxysm, angst, death, loss,
Form:
Free verse
Love
Ardent, boundless
Caring, empowering, promising,
Paroxysm, veridicality, Anhedonia, ephemeral
Trivializing, evading, weakening,
Tristful, lorn
Indifference
Categories:
paroxysm, break up, hurt, loneliness,
Form:
Diamante
Your golden hair like Jason's fleece
Flows and streams, now disarrayed, yet neat
Waving as a banner at once to the beat
Yet with promise and rapacity so replete
How your eyes sparkle behind your lids
How they must glow and how they must flick
Flash when they open so wide and blue
Yet now closed, as fire trap't by flue
Your arms now lift, delicate fingers wave
To banish the world of monotony and pain
They so loose and murmuring true meaning
A life I view 'thout your simple, sweet reasoning
As you move, loose rapacious rampant glee
From a world of spirit - simplicity
Your hips they do sway, speak condemnation
Of all misery hereto, to which we seem hasten
Conniving voracious creature which harkens
Is banished and cast off, made but microcosm*
Leo, great lion is as nothing to your rhythm
Struck off as venality to your creation, your schism
The human so simple so caught up by miasma*
Is at once transfixed, in place, in paroxysm*
This viewer at once poised, caught up in his pride
Is now gravitating, and to thee I must slide
Knowest you how wonderfully you exemplify
What is contrast to left - so right
Nay but you don't, and such is thy grace
You dance so light-airy, make perfect this place
Shining hair and glowing eyes
Re-laxed posture, abandoned pride
All memory is cast away, aside
As you dance in beauty, perfection, arised.
* Microcosm - A world in miniature.
* Miasma - A noxious atmosphere or influence
* Paroxysm - A sudden attack or violent expression of a particular emotion or activity
*** The image here represented is supposed to be a girl dancing. Leo was a suitor of hers, rebuffed by the dancer, who enjoyed herself, while dancing alone to "It's a beautiful life," by Ace of Base
Categories:
paroxysm, life, love, passion, uplifting,
Form:
Rhyme
morning brought an arcane song to my ears
i was observing the spilling of light
between the curtain and the wall
the way the light seemed to carry the dust
when my quite moment
was dispatched
by the sensation of the earth and
its 30 km/ps rate of motion
by comparison
i wasn't even a mite
on an elephants eyelash
i was a microbe
riding on a rock
on a massive migration through space
my body became filled with avidity-
something was about to happen
the dam was made of mud
and it was monsoon season
looking into the hallway mirror
i was astonished to see the image inside
was not me
this was some type of apparition
a ghost
that belonged to someone else
the electrons in my brain swirled
forming the loose pattern of wafting smoke
an electrified current
all of this energy
shot past the sleeping dogs
though the house
pierced the atmosphere
then outward into the deep vastness of the heavens
a remarkable paroxysm and
i was back with myself
yet
i felt subtly metamorphosed
looking around,
all of the stuff
i had worked so diligently
to acquire
took on a look of being frivolous
unnecessary
it was all the programming of someone else
the whims of a schizophrenic
with vainglorious proclivities
a booming voice announces:
if you do not abide to the constructs
of this lovely societal aggregation
you are an outcast
a luddite
a nihilist
a lost soul
a demagogue
a loser
a shoe shiner
a sewage swiller
weak,
pathetic,
unable to assimilate
due to anachronistic tendencies
...
we have viewed into the aperture
that gives a glimpse
of both dissonnant living and
ways to slough off the insanity
but
we are controlled by dna's unblinking eyes
we make love and war simultaneously
we are the amalgamation of genes we conspire against
dna spirals up my spine
then feathers across my neurons
entrenching its fingers into my convolutions
i am the product of a mad scientist
who has designed me with used atoms
from distant, dead stars
i breathe oxygen
that have been around since the birth
of the universe
yet,
despite it all,
these animated atomic miracles
have fought to keep us all held together
so that we may witness the splendor
of being alive
the morning song wasn't so veiled after all
Categories:
paroxysm, lifesong, song, universe,
Form:
Prose Poetry
recklessly chaotic surrender
midway untrained assimilating
thought patterns struck by twilit
idiosyncratic contractions'
irrational heart dotted i's
of contradictory falsities,
pushing past buttoned loops
orchestrating emotional surges
coasting sideways 'twixt
high as kites' paroxysm
saw Jesus before bloom
was off rose's thornily
fumbled holy water's
bloody crucified testaments
mid looking glass passion
of hysterics death's rallies
standing on sidelines
musing boxed refrains'
hallucinated confusion,
wholly plummeting
metaphorical indulgences
nonsensically dissuading
inartistic translations
of rhetorical persuasions
forfeiting divine secrets
halfway bent chimeras,
trashing an otherwise ominous
shrill screeching revenant
expediting manifested
liquidizing bastardizations'
bantered escapism,
like belladonna and nightshade
intoxication wickedly exigent,
trilling motley eclipses of
darkly boggled gray fog nuclei
burlesquing a bohemian scaramouche
furthermost an elusive raptus seizing
rhapsodically serpentine delusions
Categories:
paroxysm, allegory, confusion, crazy, hyperbole,
Form:
Burlesque
RICH IS THE BLOOD!
A witch has capabilities to get me if I am curse.
God knows she can scare a stone in his or her godly works.
However, the road I travel leaves her flabbergasted.
Her spells and portion becomes acid.
The water from the rain shrinks her head into a grue fuse.
The eyes in the back of her head become a muddle puddle.
Culmination tarns, when another Great Lake forms.
A warlock is her next-to-kin, or might he be her husband?
On the lagoon, sits a village of huts.
The anger of passion can make all combustible.
Meres form in the fire trucks.
The hoses swarm around as a flood.
Insurance rebuilds the village of huts into a majestic megalopolis.
Aplomb all are in their Heliopolis.
In a paroxysm, drives the Papadopoulos family.
Making a wrong turn ended them at their home in Megalopolis.
Not a difference was seen and they never return to their origin.
They are fifth generation now with family throughout the universe.
Their blood has made real children for all.
Revelation of the witchcraft has evolve.
The witches and warlocks of Megalopolis control and solve all created
worlds.
________________________________________|
PENNED ON AUGUST 20, 2014!
Categories:
paroxysm, creation, dark, environment, faith,
Form:
Free verse
STORMS
As vivid as lightening striking a tree, the storms of life possesses me.
My fascination is in my highs and lows.
There are no reasons to feel baffled.
Once the storm starts, issues will unfold.
Your inner being will begin to form.
The storms of life define the saddest love.
*
In a depicter state, she stood.
Her body trembles in the multitude.
A man from across the room, she found, observed her.
She read his lips as he murmured that she had entered the storm.
She knew he wondered what her troubles were.
She sniffed and said I am in love.
The storms of life are an emotional roller coaster.
They will bring many hopes and disappointments.
Brace yourself for the heights because the rush just may take your life.
In a mental-physical world we all live.
When your storm hits, be prepared.
He depicts his own faith.
His keeps his feelings in a mood swing.
He is not out to be depleted emotionally.
He knows his highs and lows.
He capitalizes on his passions.
She hears him sigh.
This is a sign of the storms of life.
He wonders why she stares.
She knows that one, within the near future, will defeat his rages and desires.
The storms of life to him are a nervous breakdown.
Paroxysm is eruditions of the storms of life.
A child in famine cries.
In a mental-physical world, a humanitarian purpose must thrive.
This is because the storms of life are devised.
*
“Thou I walk in the shadows of death, I fear no evil.”
STORMS OF LIFE
___________________________|
PENNED ON JUNE 26, 2014!
Categories:
paroxysm, angst, betrayal, break up,
Form:
Rhyme
revert video settings at 1080. Best watched in full screen mode.
“Electric Dreams of the Sleeping Orgonon”
A tangerine dream
came out of the blue
cloud busting citron burst
electric dreams
of the sleeping
Orgonon
raised a little death
le petit mort
by mesmerism
hysterical paroxysm
still life
exists
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
Tangerine Sunset - Sydney, Australia - 8.12.21
https://youtu.be/96QsrXf_7_A
Kate Bush - Cloudbusting (with lyrics)
https://youtu.be/mwKoKusPkwA
Cloud Buster
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cloudbuster
Cloud Busting
https://www.encyclopedia.com/science/encyclopedias-almanacs-transcripts-and-maps/cloud-busting
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cloudbusting
Orgone
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orgone
Wilhelm Reich
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wilhelm_Reich
Orgonon
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orgonon
“A Book of Dreams”, Peter Reich (son of Wilhelm Reich, Psychoanalyst)
https://www.katebushencyclopedia.com/book-of-dreams-a
eBook - "A Book of Dreams", Peter Reich, 1973
PDF Link – free Ebook – “A Book of Dreams” by Peter Reich, 1973
https://zh.au1lib.org/book/4973817/247e9a
Categories:
paroxysm, muse, psychological, sky,
Form:
Free verse
In time, a faded letter turned to ash,
dampened teak now acrid and abused,
a timeless quarrel's scene, an ancient clash,
one paroxysm fierce, two mastheads fused.
Subsumed in fortune's cast of reel and ruse,
blended masses nursing wounds and fears
ne'er comprehending how it ended here.
What forced each flag to wield its harshest hand,
yet cause to happenstance may seldom look,
wild thoughts untempered, soldiers of the grand,
nostalgia or clean might for pride mistook.
Fair warning to the hungry, e'en wisest book
makes not the calm of vernal noon's delight
worth more than ashen spoils from the fight.
Categories:
paroxysm, adventure, death, political, war
Form:
Rhyme Royal