Best Persistence Poems
Caustic memories dissolve on my tongue
Lingering tastes of battery acid and nicotine
Cause me to choke on putrid saliva.
Staring at melting walls, clocks tick in unison.
Distorted birdsong hums outside of jagged windows
Under the warped sun, an unrepentant landscape blurs.
Freshly budding peonies liquefy;
Veils thin, evaporating the delusion of reality.
Why must I mould to the edges at your bidding,
Contort to the point of my own dysfunction?
For such fleeting worship, this devastation lingers -
Devours and disconnects my inner workings.
I lie highlighted in shadow, a beacon of quiet distress;
A dislodged scapula desperate to be labelled angelic.
Grounded, wingless, and forever out of time -
Wearing the last face you cared for as a comforter.
Neon venom warming twisted arteries,
Sinister patches stitched upon a breaking back.
A narcissist's crown digging into my head
Like rusted nails plunged into worm-infested wood—
Permanent disconnection, frayed cerebral cortex.
Blurred vision obscures insidious figures hiding in hushed corners,
Whispering in Babylonian tongue. Hallucinatory illusions haunt
What was a once-pristine sanctuary,
Now morphing into a surrealistic asylum.
Revelation exists above shadow in temporal machination,
I'm consciousness not yet swept up with sand;
Closed eyes cleanse my corneas - I rest in a balm of clarity.
Your power superficial, a cankerous cataract peeled clean off.
It is you who is bereft, washed up with the shell you created.
All the walls of your empty room fallen flat,
As I unfurl in the mirror beyond the shoreline,
I realise - it was never me you couldn't stomach.
(A Paul Callus & Carolyn Devonshire collaboration)
Standing not far from the cliff’s edge
the aging tree, solitary,
with gnarly roots clings to the rocks -
she shows resolve, tenacity.
My younger days were easier;
as a tiny sprout, I flourished,
surrounded by wildflower beds
that by soft spring rains were nourished.
For many years on rugged land
she had all weathers to endure
and there were times when under stress
doubts crossed her mind, felt insecure.
For centuries nature’s fury
cast afflictions, floods, tornadoes.
Many arms lost to lightning strikes,
but I still cling to bravado.
Exposed to storms or blazing sun,
whipped by the wind mercilessly,
sought reassurance from her faith -
she strived to keep her dignity.
Resiliently, I learned to stand
in the face of danger and doom.
Since I am one of God’s creatures,
the promise of faith may still bloom.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
There are I'm sure
people
who
will
tell
you
to
stop
I'm also sure
you will persist
in your literary
efforts
Some may say
its only poetry
but we know
different - don't we friends?
Poetry can change a life
It can even change societies
You might not achieve fame until after you are gone
Poetry is for the ages
People may be reading you
in a couple of millennia
Sobering thought
After we disappear
our poems may very well
bring a smile
to people who love the genre
Generative Persistence
Give it a name; “generative presence”, “persistence”
Emergent with life, feeling and a pulse
Send it on its way while clinging to the egg
Enable it from a distance to become of use
Keep yourself in a suggestive cocoon
State of fixation, enameled in stasis
Embedded in concrete reality if only to form
Wrapped in patterns, in sequences, in character, in disarray
Care to be objective, immersive, informative, and inspired
Decline to describe, suggest, discuss, gaps between life
Grasp the past meandering. Record the record of history
Understand; you are a guest in your own home
In your own existence; fantasies not included
Invoke the yoke of yellow, involve useful dialogue
Desirable, normal, absurd diagnosis of that which is
Adapt to youth as it passes
Glanced at by events unfolding, reflected in a mirror
Placed appropriately in your path
From the context, content of that which is perceived
In the persistence of memory let it live
It never is too late to start
Pursuing what you dream.
Listen closely to your heart...
Allow your mind to stream.
Do not let status or age
Instill crisis within you.
Successfully turning the page?
Only if you decide to.
All of us when we are younger
Wish that we could be
A certain someone - this, we hunger
For innocently.
Many of us follow through,
Becoming with ambition.
Life goes on for others who
Do not reach such fruition.
Time, effort, determination...
All of which are needed
Concerning a qualification
Being earned - succeeded.
When it comes to a career
And all of its deployments,
Necessary to hold near...
Your passions and enjoyments.
Caught up in our daily lives...
Succumbing to routine.
Suppression of ambitious thrives
Which go unheard, unseen.
Commonly, what was desired
Is lost or forgotten.
Their fruits from a tree inspired...
Now, fallen and rotten.
At any given time, this tree
Can produce and provide
More fruits, of which you are free
To choose in your decide.
Will you come into your own...
Take up what makes you clever?
To say the least, this much is known...
Better late than never.
Never give up
I am talking to you.
Never give up.
Wait! What! Say it again!
Yes, do not give up on the life-changing dreams with which you are busy.
Persuasion, persistence and endurance are the keys.
Self-confidence, self-determination and visualisation are the processes.
But, let go of bad habits.
Drop the negativity, stubbornness and self-pity
Replace with humbleness.
Be humble in whatever you do and encounter.
Look at you.
You feel targeted.
Targeted for what and by whom?
Take off and be silent.
Listen to your innermost side.
Frame that burning desire to excel again and again.
Can I call you “my friend”?
Because, never give up!
You have what it takes.
Stop!
Listen again.
Pause for a minute.
Can you hear the silence?
Are you eager to discover what follows?
It is time to shape your next chapter.
Start with your childhood dream
Because never give up.
You own your dreams and owe them to yourself.
Big white clock is bored
With the uniformity of time
Flowing unnoticeably every day
Always the same tedious way
The clock has been sitting there
From the dawn of the time
Meticulously marking steps of
Hours minutes, and seconds
Till it could no longer bear
The meaningless existence
Of being a humdrum machine
One day the clock decided to try
Something a little bit different
A tiny experiment of stretching
Its' frame to right which resulted
In arrow of seconds slowing down
Then bending sharp to the left
The arrow of minutes jumped up
Clock excitedly slid down fast
Speeding up hourly flow of time
Then lazily went back to primal
Initial smooth fixed steady pace
Bringing time flow back to
Normal rhythm of the day
But now the clock felt inspired
So it tried to wrinkle the frame
Excitedly flipping upside down
Which resulted in unexpected flow
Of time acquiring velocity of its own
Detaching itself from the constant
Existence of space and swiftly
Rolling down the edge of a cliff
Clock fell into the dark precipice
Opening the heavy infinity doors
Where the clock hasn’t been before
In the pitch darkness it felt lost
Trying to catch the evading time
With the arrows arms like spread
Flapping through empty space
But time was evading the clock
Excited and free it mischievously
Played spellbound hide and seek
With the desperate clumsy clock
Which felt confused and scared
The world felt hopelessly lost
For the lonely terrified clock
The clock could no longer grasp
The wholesome consistency of time
Which was racing in its own speed
In infinite universe so the clock
Had to find out the way to catch
The time and make it uniform again
Feeling guilty of such a foolish attempt
To test things that should not have
Been controlled and questioned
Deeply repenting crooked clock
Tried to get back to its original form
Restoring smooth round shape
Straightening three bent black arrows
Tuning seconds minutes and hours
Recovering the consistency of time
That always flies by in the same
Monotonous predictable way
The clock swore never to
Experiment ever again
Being just a humble guardian
Of time instead of
Trying to manipulate it
Smitten by unrequited love,
rejection stymies fledgling hearts.
And any chance of happiness
is lost before it even starts.
Denial comforts broken hearts
left in a vulnerable state.
While they cling tight to the false hope
that time might yet alter their fate.
Always waiting in the shadows,
smiles keep passion's flame concealed.
For exposed fantasy dreams die,
when secret feelings are revealed.
Their impassioned hearts feel empty,
like they were hollowed out inside.
And tears often swell up and spill,
no matter how many they've cried.
Desire and suppression have them
sliding down a slippery slope.
Yet, with undying persistence,
they desperately cling to hope.
Rise Out Of The Ashes
Filled with apprehension the heart pleaded for sympathy
Eyes desperately focused beyond normality seeks a sign
When anguish mount while darkness insists on lingering
Do we deserve sheer punishment for misjudging gloom?
At times love misinterprets emotional ache as an excuse
Must it lay silently underground until it freezes for good?
If even just one promise attains autonomy from disarray
Plant a kiss, a subtle embrace, and rise out of the ashes!
11:33 A.M.
11/22/2022
Aboard cruise ship:
Rhapsody of the Seas
Chania, Greece
Love's persistence
Drip...Drip...Drip...as drops fall to the rocks below
Split...Split...Split... the rocks split open from the persistent flow
Try...Try...Try...I try to penetrate your heart of solid stone
Know...Know... Know...I know with persistence our love too can grow
Open...Open...Open...your heart cracked wide open for me
Now we know with love's persistence our hearts can be together and be free
John Derek Hamilton
April 04,2016
We all hear the internal clock ticking,
A self-contained Doomsday device,
Melting like a candle in the desert heat
Shaded by our consciousness,
We try to ignore the Fun House mirrors
That manipulate our memory.
Our minds as flat as pancakes
Are screaming for persistence
And there's something that looks slightly like a deflated goose on the sand.
Our memories are not real
They happen to be past-tense fantasies
Reality souped-up on steroids
Hounding us like a dog
we bargain with memory
and give in to its demands
By: Joseph DeMarco
LOOK THERE. NOTHING HERE.
CABINETS BARE.
BEARLY ATE.
STARE THROUGH SPACE.
CAN'T KEEP PACE.
NEIGHBOR FRIED CHICKEN.
FINGER LICKIN'
DIRTY FINGERS.
NEED SOAP
CAN'T COPE
NEED SLEEP. NO SHEETS.
CAN'T KEEP. COUNTING SHEEP.
ONE TWO THREE
MUST GET THERAPY.
AND FIND RESOURCES
BEFORE FROST HITS.
MUST PERSIST
I EXIST.
Take hold the valley
For in its depths are footholds
Made fast by victors
How strange it is to see clocks on the branches of trees.
Their appearance to be melting adds to the peculiarities.
High cliffs are in the background against a stagnant sea.
Does this scenario seem a bit strange to you or me?
That thing in the middle has long eye lashes and a nose.
Unknown is what the man was saying here. What do you suppose?
This was the artist’s escape from the realm of reality.
In New York’s Metropolitan Museum, that’s what you see.
This little oil painting is “The Persistence of Memory”.
It is the product of the late, great, Salvador Dali.
Show persistence and resilience
Be the one who never gives in
Have courage and strength to survive
Always look deep within
Believe that you can achieve
Just keep your chin up
Be fierce with determination
Continue to rise to the top