Best Stagnant Poems
Silhouetted Stagnant Shadows
Stagnant shadows of night sequestered slaves in sight
Faces fading in fright as the fear feeds the lethargic light
Silhouettes of love in plight demons dancing in delight
As darkness devours the white, images surreal will smite
Within negative reflections of my loves dire defections
Outlines of lost connections metaphors of misdirection’s
Dormant internal infections reliving raging resurrections
Silhouetted projections of my dismal depleting affections
Black portraits of palpable pain never to rejoice and regain
Darkened phantoms of grain scornfully sabotaging the sane
Deceivers of the defiant drain tragically tangled of the twain
Vanity in a voiceless vain the sentinels stand in their reign
A dark matter display particles of light have gone astray
Within a decomposing decay a silhouetting fractal buffet
In my capturing love delay, silent shadows bitterly betray
And now my dreams are far away within a black hole ballet.
Sept.08.2017
Silhouette
Sponsored by... Craig Cornish
Staged or Stagnant
The gathering of people,
from here and there,
and everywhere,
made possible
by time.
What is important to each person,
yet more important to another,
then the one that is waiting
to hear?
Silence is not possible,
the sound of breathing alone...
a storm of air and wind.
Whispers turned to screaming,
left in echoes for the past to reflect.
The question of why,
never considered.
No one brave enough
to ask.
What was let loose?
How did it happen?
Who gave them permission
to put us all at risk?
Stand your ground when the dogs come,
they will be hungry.
Hold tight to your morals,
and do not give in...
to temptation.
Joel once made a New Year’s Resolution
To put an end to procrastination
But half way through the year
He found himself waiting there
Lost in his stagnant condition
~*~
Shards of listening sunflowers, she's trapped in the gardens reflection,
contaminated shattered seedlings was not the topiary's intention,
inside the stamen, her severed particles, causing an afflicted defection,
scraps of glass and plastic lies beneath the roots, depleting the petals complexion,
the world divides into pieces from this stagnant pollution infection.
Date Written: February 23, 2016
For The Contest, Fragment of Life, Sponsor, Broken Wings
Some days, I am a dreamer of the future.
I tend to imagine myself treading paths
I've always dreamed of taking.
At night, before I sleep I try to
Envision myself in a court defending
A client with all my might and knowledge
Mondays, I am an attorney.
Tuesdays, I step on stage and hold a
Microphone as I stand before the eyes of
Thousands of international public speakers.
Wednesdays, I am an artist.
I like to think I have this magic within me
Where I'm capable of making a whale
Fly freely up above the sky or the
Power to make eyes talk and be alive
Thursdays, I am a poet enchantress
Full of metaphors and languages
One wouldn't learn immediately.
Fridays, I am a creative writer
My fingers tremble as I release the
Monsters in my head and alter reality
On weekends, I am a broadcaster, a hunter
Of news and caster of truths with my voice
Heard and listened everywhere you go
But most of the time, I am just a girl
With an ambitious soul living inside this
Lackadaisical body and I keep walking on
A treadmill facing a single direction making
Efforts with seen and heard footsteps
But no signs of movements forward.
I am stuck in a labyrinth of self-doubts and
Insecurities with a lack of energy to climb its
Walls and try to see what's out there
I am in a continuous cycle of hallucinations
My mind wanders to different dreams and paths
But my body is in a frozen state of carelessness.
I am a stagnant river, calm and still
When I'm supposed to be flowing endlessly.
stagnant I lay…
zealously yearning
yet reluctant to play
Ever so peaceful you appear,
Disguising your eternal suffrage.
Silent is your noted fear;
For to humans, you take umbrage.
Yet you try to smile,
As the crimson stains your body.
You chant “Peace!” in denial,
To your own folly.
Bear witness to carnage;
Bear witness to despair.
For you are the stage,
In which they all appear!
Stagnant are we in turning peace to war,
Leaving your sorrowful mind with a silent scar.
Surrounded by wheat
maybe shadowed by pines.
Silence is your lonesome ties.
All alone on top of that hill
your wood board a crutch
drawing black birds craving your perch.
Harassed by scorched sun in summer
freezer burnt by the bitter wind
known as winter's accomplice.
Stitched lips render you helpless
triangled hues take in reoccuring lines
upon this old map.
Identical auromas no scent of new.
What about rain and the morning dew?
It appears the straw you bleed soaks.
Hung up high and dry
your only onlookers that of scavengers.
Who says misery doesn't like company?
An exile you may be.
Oh on that hill you stand
willing to let others have the spoils.
Blue above and
Blue below,
Clumps of clouds,
Falling slow.
Airplanes surge but do not move.
The elephant passes in the room.
I try to sleep,
to turn away,
Turning pages
yet the story stays
Stagnant.
I look everywhere except at you.
I see nothing, except for you.
My mind is telling my feet
To take the first steps to change
but with every step I take
My heart lag behind
refusing to move
with silhouettes of you
Replaying in my head
my heart beats faster
yet stagnant...
Embracing everything that's you
from your smell, to your touch
your laughter and that silly grin…
Every inch so unique
yet familiar,
my heart beats faster
yet stagnant...
Focused on you,
refusing to move,
refusing change…
Ripples in stagnant pond
as circles of light
is absorbed by fern and frond
and as wave-lets are put to flight.
Ripples in stagnant pond
no escaping the boundaries set
as radiance reflects upon
where creation entrapment walls are met.
Ripples in stagnant pond
as thoughts enmeshed
and extending beyond
to it's outer wall to be dashed.
Ripples in stagnant pond
wanting itself to free
from it's murky bond
to stream and river in glee.
I think I’ll sit and wait for it to rain.
I doubt much will come of it.
A few dark clouds, some thunder maybe?
A lake cares little, about a few drops.
The gods care little for the insignificant.
Yet we foolishly think lives matter.
Who needs water, when clouds cry?
An hollow vessel?
A desert mirage?
A soul is empty when the spirit dies.
Homeless creatures seek solace, inside a carvern of wants.
Grasping onto nothing makes loosing seems easy.
Dried blood, on bended knee.
Falling down only breaks bones.
Strength is what defines the weak.
Why get up, if crawling works just fine?
To search for hope?
A desire to stand on feet?
To break the heart, one must break the mind.
Foolishly forgetting locks have keys.
Trampeling through doorways, we stumble over needs.
Always searching for tomorrow, incandescent dreams.
Slowly wasting time, chasing Idiolic things.
Captured inside a web, spun from disbelief.
Why leave the cage, when abilities have gone extinct?
An chance for survival?
A need to be complete?
When reality shatters, it melts like broken glass.
Incessant memories form illusions, casting today into the past.
While seeing false perceptions, time drips into the cracks.
Endlessly going nowhere, strapping burdens on our back.
Like sand looped in an hourglass, always feeling trapped.
A mermaid washed on shore, wrapped in fishing nets.
Why chase shadows, knowing only you are left?
Looking forward to tomorrow?
Leaving no regrets?
destroying nature
haiku maritime limbo~
environment change
In retrospect I tried to lie,
To hide the thing that lives inside.
I hoped in fact that it had died,
I see now I was wrong.
I slipped and dipped and ducked and dove.
I slept in every crevice cove.
Just like spider webs are wove.
I journeyed ten yrs gone.
You are just not, concerned about growth
You do what you want, but don't push envelopes
Won't go beyond, or outside comfort zones
You are a man that's stagnant
You stick to routines, and do the same things
Refuse to do anything new, yeah that's weak
Can not push boundaries, as a creature of habit
You are a man that's stagnant