Best Poisonous Poems
Only life in our mortal realm
entrenches self-doubt’s stand.
People and events cripple us
with critical mirrors showing us
visuals of our ineptness.
All who are predisposed to clutching their negative blows
know doubts occurrences of fearful disturbance
thoroughly unscrambles one’s confidence channel
Image deceit drips as falsely scented,
mixed with drops of fictive doubt,
to kidnap our splendid potential.
On and off, our truth wrestles doubt’s absolutes.
Since youth, most have fought that gloomy devil.
A parrot sits on my shoulder.
Unlike those that squawk, mine tends to whine.
When she is in the mood,
she moans and moans and moans.
No Polly-Anna Parrot is this one!
My pain she keeps repeating,
and hearing of it hinders me from being
more completely sympathetic to the pain
of others in my life.
As she dribbles cracker crumbs of pessimissm
from her annoying and ugly noxious beak,
it’s so difficult to pluck her from my ear.
Alas! I’m hearing the sound of my own voice,
for ‘tis I - who taught her how to speak.
Jan. 20, 2019 for
Maureen McGreavy's Plucking the Poisonous Parrot Contest
Stalin cared nothing for his people
Mao Zedong was likewise
Cruel and brutal tyrants
Who slaughtered millions of their own people.
And now let those who espouse the ideals
Of communism, marxism, socialism and globalism
Learn the truth from the blood soaked landscape
Of the twentieth century
And listen to the haunting cries
Of countless millions who have died...
W.A CHOLT. Copyright Fergal O Reilly 2022.
3/9/22
on the body of stars
I'm litting up the lantern to wandering
the rivers of the world
flowing along with my pavement
upstairs of heaven
no throne of the peace but a belief
with the ill body of time
I lost the tavern of the youthful earth
sun of the universe true saint of light
nothing but the belief of eyesight
on the mat of Rafflesia I to Andromeda flowers
drops of the honey opening the last door of breath
-03.01.2021 Chattogrm
oh there is this voice in my head that echoes
sometimes whispering venomous, poison insults
and at times screaming negativity... grasping my heart
twisting my spirit to tatters and ruin
a parrot mimic, chattering in the dark corridors
of my mind, hiding in all my inner private spaces
plucking and yanking, killing my tranquility
STOP your endless speaking and your crippling malice
I cry, for there is another voice murmuring
a voice softer but much stronger
this voice is courage and will nullify your condemning
in the hush-hush of night I must listen to both voices
and my insides are aching . . this is what I have to say noxious voice
I wish to be an eagle flying high and not a parrot caged in my mind . . .
______________________________
January 13, 2019
Poetry/Free Verse/The Poisonous Parrot
Copyright Protected, ID 19- 1104-553-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Plucking The Poisonous Parrot
sponsor, Maureen McGreavy
Third Place
Add colour to a bunch of expensive waste, Its still rubbish
to rescue a prey from its determined predator create an exit
in one cubicle is a hungry snake and a well nurtured fish
to suggest fairness in this scene, we stubbornly close it
one is feasted upon for another to have a nice dish
yet for political correctness we look away to the opposite.
Watching from the shore for long,
tides and waves roll with a rhythmic beat all foretold.
New blossoms of temple flowers bloom,
As some did fall face first to the ground in sweet surrender.
“Oh dancing leaves on this rainy day!
Dance how you may lest you sway.”
At the sea’s edge, a rush of wind parts memories left far behind...
With remorse stood I conjuring the self-imposed torture;
with pain that soared with the cross I bear.
Like the dancing dew drop that rolleth from the blade of the staggering leaf on a
withering tree,
like a merry soldier whistling his final tune to the tip of the guillotine,
looking skyward stood I dripping in complete surrender.
The zenith had no bounds and the nadir inched too deep;
wanting to dissolve in the hastened fury, complacency the soul rendered;
knowing for sure that certain dreams are better gone when awake.
The wine rolleth well, piercing those buds screaming for more.
Till the blood-red wine knoweth not if its the blood or the wine
that tasteth so well in the mouth it rolls.
"My poisonous mushrooms! Left behind with the serpent's kiss,
knowing too well and none better than he will know what he knows best…
that he desires to be plucked undeserving to be tasted;
unless death beckons the soul from deep for the one who plucketh."
a delicious lie -- my heart was hungry
You dangerous viper go away
and leave me on my own.
You are a lion and a thief,
trying to steal God's throne.
You shook your fist in anger.
You rebelled against your King.
Someday, Satan, you will pay
for causing me this suffering.
God is angry, Rightfully so.
His creations have turned away.
But his children will rejoice
on the day that Satan pays.
As powerful as an earth tremor that can tear the clinged earth plates apart,
As strong as a lie that can break the glass of trust into pieces,
As significant as a plastic face that can easily wipe out deformities,
As realistic as a fake smile that can turn twinkling eyes into an endless ocean,
As terrible as the hunger cry of an abandoned child.
Dangerous to the extent of rising forest fire,
Decisive to the extent of a fake friend,
Dominant to the range of an unethical political voice,
Indecent to the core of an uneducated mind,
Unexpected as the danger of a shipwreck.
As menacing as -
a brick of betrayal that could break the brawny wall of honesty,
one toxic drop that could turn His adorable Adam into a lump of ash,
a single fire spark that could snatch the
food away from the innocent forest life
a luring pitcher tube that could melt the little life in its juices.
The root of vengeance
The seed of sorrow
The decimating desire
The minacious avarice
And that rules the kings,
Governs the supreme power,
Mortifies the stony broke mob,
Banishes even the brilliance and virtuosity
It's not just a piece of printed paper,
Not just a coin of stamped metal.
Salute to you dear specie
Kudos to you dear penny
You are Omnipresent, Omnipotent and Omnificent.
Those who have a critical spirit are like poison ivy…
contact with them allows their poison to spread.
The tassel
Seems to be blossomed
Having created with beauty
And shedding aroma passim
When the time comes close
And to closer and close up
The tassel
Seems to be hybrid
Having hidden conventional qualities
Nothing to be seen
Expected beauty and
Conceived aroma
The tassel
Where stands
Roots of brought forth
Clasp poisonous thorns
Even blunt
It is destructible
The tassel
Untimely born
That may not blossom and smell
Defoliated body of line
It has being decayed
Respective ignorance of origin
Throughout the time
Emerges like an atavism
Udaya R. Tennakoon
Beware the enticing purple mandrake
Thinking it will calm a lover’s worries
Its berries do not make a tasty shake
Beware the enticing purple mandrake.
Many suitors have made this mistake
With its lovely yellow-orange berries
Beware the enticing purple mandrake
Thinking it will calm a lover’s worries.
written July 26, 2021
FIRST PLACE WINNER
Brian Strand Contest on Poetry Soup
Once jailed and bailed
Virtually mental saw scaled
Angry aggressive and hyper
The crotalinae hypnotic striker
Cold blooded terrestrial Sanseki
Whitish echis carinatus sochureki...
Life is a game with snakes on every level..
I want, what is to be
I want, what should happen
I need and want all that is around me
but i am starved
I am the hungry
I am in slaved
now with slavery's twin sister impoverished
and there brother famish
poverty is not just a life style
it is a life sentence
and my poisonous womb
has brought forth, the most unfortunate of souls
and i, too came from a sour enclave
with hold no life for me
but bore me by mistake
by some chance, should I be released
from my hell
my silky soft caramel hands
would embrace my golden brown face
and salty, warm tears '
would stream down
and moisten the seed of today
------------------------------------------------------------
The Poisonous Womb
I want, what is to be
I want, what should happen
I need and want all that is around me
but i am starved
I am the hungry
I am in slaved
now with slavery's twin sister impoverished
and there brother famish
poverty is not just a life style
it is a life sentence
and my poisonous womb
has brought forth, the most unfortunate of souls
and i, too came from a sour enclave
which holds no life for me
but bore me by mistake
by some chance, should I be released
from my hell
my silky soft caramel hands
would embrace my golden brown face
and salty, warm tears '
would stream down
and moisten the seeds (sons) of today
(fixed? 5-5-2017 fri)