Best Peripheries Poems
My Rhetoric Rhapsody
Oh! I am a Poet
It’s me again pretty poet of the century,
Breaking through till I reach mercury.
A pretty poet with popping phrases,
A poor poet with perpetual personality.
Praying that my poems pulls out pieces of pleasure,
Arouses interest, motivates and inspires.
Oh! I am a Poet
Who teaches as he preach
On every inch that becomes a cliché
And leaves your ears aching when reached.
Who frees frozen feelings of Refugees.
Who unfolds fundamental mysteries of false phenomenon.
Who washes and enshrines shameful ships on a sea shore,
Assuring Sheppard of Shelter by Lord Krishna.
Oh! I am a Poet
A rock solid hardcore poet
Self proclaimed Fundi
A super duper verse creator
A self sufficient professor
A prodigy not a protégé
A dictator not an agitator
A toughie not a roughie
I don’t recite to hear myself talk
I don’t talk to be noticed
I don’t take Hobson’s choice
Nor hobble to a hoax
I don’t settle for a bird in hand
Nor crawl for half a loaf
My reaches exceeds my grasp
My wishes akin to my riches
My poems are my pillar
My wits are my tools
No hocus pocus for my hoi polloi
I’m not a hoity-toity poet who scribbles down hokum poetry
My poetry is impalpable,
Inexplicable and impeccable.
My creativity is infallible.
My verses so impregnable.
I am an imperious poetic licensee
I am a rusty epic epidemic through youth poets’ wannabes,
A penurious poet who indulge in perilous peripheries.
My masterpiece is not some common handwritten handiwork on handkerchief.
I craft them like a handicapped handyman with no haphazard!
And this is my Rhetoric Rhapsody...
See, when I rhyme my rhymes that hum like hymns
And step on my Poetic Stiletto heels to find open minds
And dine in a pile of my rhymes...
My mimes start to mime my rhymes
And this is a route where I quote that this is not over yet...
Categories:
peripheries, introspection, on writing and
Form:
Free verse
At peripheries of two world with make-up
An apathy of immoral greedy world
In mist vile and lies
Veiled this world
In cemetery
In mourning days
Only phantoms world
At gates of west
Open to meet careless east
In sunset
In ever dusk crows
All along in grief
In graveyard
Millions of hope
Buried alive
Categories:
peripheries, poverty,
Form:
It's past midnight; the witching hours
softly creep through the darkness.
Music muffles out of an open doorway,
shadows thump as hearts beat.
Seeing fluid bodies merge in time
I'm the wrong piece in an incomplete jigsaw,
watching chargeless as giggling electrons
attract and repel, weave an
intricate dance amongst pulsing protons.
Chemistry was never my best subject,
much less the murky peripheries
where chemistry meets biology,
the hormonal collision of chemical bonding
with fusion and reproduction.
Walking home, constellations map the sky.
The moon cycles its rhythmical shifts.
There's safety in physics, cause and effect,
bound in formulae, logic and reason.
Categories:
peripheries, age, growing up, identity,
Form:
Free verse
ATHENA
A girl so gorgeous to regard upon with grins
does protect this peaceful city with serene souls.
She blesses all the dwellers with witful arts and
cunning crafts that carve them into beautiful souls
into beautiful souls that radiate transformation
of cocoons into butterflies that fly freely
in the sky with birds, white clouds, and the flaming sun.
From her sheath her sword was drawn to slay many beasts
who crept the peripheries of the city walls,
in search of human prey with avaricious fangs.
They creep and crawl and roar many frightful screeches,
that imbue the human heart with horror and fear.
Categories:
peripheries, beauty, courage, devotion, peace,
Form:
Blank verse
A Poet Drives a Truck
Transmit and reflect light with a steady glow.
Inspect the equipment routinely and thoroughly.
Explore alternate routes when feasible.
Let the eyes range over the land, the sky,
the near, the distant road, and the mysterious
peripheries.
Transcend rage and panic with humor and consideration.
Tell the truth especially when a brilliant lie
seems more appropriate.
Look flowers in the eyes.
Frisk about like a dog unbound.
Sniff the night perfume of trees.
Listen to the songs of birds.
Let them take wing in the breath and soar forth
to the moon.
Editors’ Note. This poem, from which this volume takes its name, was published circa 1999 in a newsletter published by Lowell’s employer at the time, titled “Still Manifesting.”
Categories:
peripheries, truth,
Form:
You think, therefore
You're rising with the rising stars
But in dreams
You're falling to the far side
Day by day
Collecting what's yours from your sales
Of whatever it is you sell these days
You watch your profits double
But in the nighttime lying down on your back
You feel the sores, the numbness on your backside
And you feel your soul's down
Led to backslide
Taking stock of life
Feeling like you've been defined
You reach into your inner rebel
And begin to revel
In the ideas in which all rebels revel
And a new track of thought
Begins to unravel
Riches are illusions
Of grandeur propagated by the grandiose
I was richer spending time by the fireside
Cramps in my toes
The cold caressing my back and sides
Roasting mice or crushing lice
Or sitting and reminiscing
I was richer spending time by the fireside
In the darker peripheries of the log fire
With no desire
To do the math and devise
With no desire
To figure out how to destroy the earth
Or launch into outer space
Looking for places I could never reach
Now here is my own pitch
And the wise will see what I mean
The moon is the moon and the sun is the sun
And we are us
Living breathing and moving here and now
After all is said and done
I could be Lazarus
Coming back to tell us all, or not,
Just the guy waiting for the rich man cry out
Categories:
peripheries, assonance, dance, philosophy, rap,
Form:
Conceive in a moment of silence
You came to thought
To feed birds of desire in drought
With hands; of bare
Melted shields; of frosty ice
With pair of wings
Played in air
On peripheries
Of pain
In rings and raise
In a book of shallowness
Of my pale
And bore
Added
A blossom of rose
In gallery of rimes; old and cold
Conjured you the paint
An art
A sense of love
With semaphore of heart
Make the scene alive
Again
Categories:
peripheries, desire, love,
Form:
Let me tell you
Let me tell you one truth
The vastness of infinity is fathom less
But one wonderful matter to win this
Poets' knowledge is beyond case
That is why that their pens ride and run
To catch easily even black hole's speed
No escape from their diagrams
As if universe contracts
Volume to volume, epic to epic
Their pens flow to dry ink
A case of thought and
Limitless boundary leaves ideas of blinks
They have measured the world
Many more have won entering into
Hearts of people remain saluting poets
Pouring honours and rewards more and more
Some describe poor they are
Poets' peripheries are within close area
It is not truth to gauge them like this
They are very sincere and honest in whole era
If they would have ruled the world
There might have borne peace and bliss
Because the nature proofs this perfectly
As the seed so the reap
The treasury would have been full
Nature would have exploited for real development
Distribution of facilities would mean equal
Not discriminating for poor to down fall
Demons will die god will be pleased
People will feel calm and happy
Living in one birth place for life
Women will be worshipped as real goddess
Only poets can trace the genuine pace
Of space and full nature's job without hurt
A steel and dynamic love
To all, always, let me tell you this as a poet.
Categories:
peripheries, angel, beautiful, poets, pride,
Form:
Blank verse
Subliminal recession in a valid medium taunts your apathetic presence. Sin the
alleviate disparity, cos a destined validity, tangent universal. Overtaken by infinity,
hovering unscathed of the insidious through a self deity. Collapsing perception
rushing through these opaque peripheries.
Categories:
peripheries, introspection, philosophy
Form:
Free verse
He feigns the astute overture which solemnly reigns oppressing. His head clouded
from mars to infinity, a perpetual black power convolutes through metaphysical
peripheries. Infinite is the torture granted from this being. Interdimensional
branding lays hollow in vein of mind control. Such is the vicariously voracious
Categories:
peripheries, philosophy, political, science fiction
Form:
Free verse
monstrous sound slashes silence
the bellow of a giant beast,
or the flutter of a thousand wings
elevations and indiscriminate creed will not heed
sinister stirs the mix, the rise of wicked’s extravagance
black feathers flutter and bewilder against the palest frontier
the mock of a starlings flight, the fall in a sparrow’s might
countless sullen wings unfold, to rally their squadrons for show
a mobbing cry meets a redeeming sky,
their rising tones mimic heaven heralding high
contrast to the core, countless black rap-tor destroy
the fading blue sapphire display
a rebel twist in the storm suspends them again, harbingers dawning
a verge of wonder, stands close
the small dark outlines, bask a golden shine
peripheries slight motion, a graceful shimmer
perched as an alert, the slight snap of fingers
a single feather cascades, turning in the elegant dance of a ballerina's descent
laying at the step vaguely pointing to the entrance,
the pride of a black bird,
there is no place for an Omen here,
the last frailty, is my secret near and dear
Terry D’Arcy-Ryan
Categories:
peripheries, animal, bird, flying, imagery,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Blinding inertia bleeds extruding from your peripheries. Inverse cognition conjuring
within your grasp. To accommodate the psyche beyond id, clarity overtakes the
divine misdirection.
Categories:
peripheries, introspection, philosophy
Form:
Free verse
Who chooses when to fall in love
The ocean waves sweep even doves
Carrying all gates
To the roof of the sky above
Who chooses when to fall for affection
Love chooseth not
Do true feelings ever define boundaries
Or winds opt not to sweep over weak peripheries
Who ever stood in the path of twirling passions
They leave victims in twinges and twitches
Sweet swirling stitches
Love chooseth not
On whose shores it beaches
Love is an unforgiving prison
Can’t escape when you guilt
’twill be like running for the horizon
Forever will find you still at it
Love chooseth not…
Categories:
peripheries, love,
Form:
Romanticism
Digging into and detecting deep roots gives me a thrill.
Though raking up the foregone quarrels is a tiresome drill,
Values I have lost in the name of modernization,
Traditions that, like ancient hills, succumbed to damnation...
Should threads of exuberant cultures be quickly broken?
Isn't repristination an existential token?
These broken vessels of my ancestors... these torn garments,
Each has its fingerprints of involvements and debarments.
Would the spirit hovering around these yet be chased out?
Don't these cups that touched their lips have an endless silhouette?
Each rusted shoe of lost horses has tall tales to tell.
Of curses of petty kingdoms and kings, that, on them fell...
The processes and procedures of progress proceed fast.
Changes, as though perpetually changeless, seem to last.
Temples, mosques, churches, synagogues, Jinjas—what else is left?
Towers, bridges, forts, ramparts, glamorously cleaving clefts
Quality and quantity have, now, quickly shaken hands.
Don't, yet, covertly clouded hopes construct castles on sands...
Thick layers of dust and dirt constrict entire peripheries,
of principles of pristine prophetic epiphanies;
These should be removed! Truths, like the galaxies, should brightly shine.
May past foundations pave fraternal paths for a sacred shrine;
May virtues, values, and visions fill the veins of the past,
Flow flawlessly through blood vessels, cells, and the heart at last!
Categories:
peripheries, life, truth,
Form:
Rhyme
Fallaciously inverting genuinely involute demented eras, voraciously tearing away
infinity. Absolute desolation befriends in an undermining attempt for desecrate
dilution. No longer will life be derived of the dementia and so begins the new
peripheries of bliss.
Categories:
peripheries, philosophy, political
Form:
Free verse