Best Subsist Poems
Is my fate to go on living in this impervious place
where everyone dons a mask to conceal his face?
I'm floundering in this troubling tenure of time,
in which no one understands the rhythm of rhyme.
I need to search the deepest corners of my mind
for a region where oblivion is no longer defined.
I hunger to locate a habitat where I can be me,
a sanctuary where my inhibitions can be set free.
Mankind has become such an abstract machine,
all walking to the beat of the same tambourine.
Egotistic are those blind to the needs of others.
A depth of indifference that stifles and smothers.
When did it happen, that it became a world of greed
where everyone wants more than they'll ever need?
Bump into me on the street. No one seems to care.
The oblivion in society is greater than I can bear.
I cling to the prospect of a world in which I behold,
a race of benevolent humans, in stories long foretold,
where no disguise is ever worn to conceal a feeling,
and no secrets are kept for embarrassing revealing.
If there is a place where these human qualities exist,
it's an Eden in which I could more than just subsist.
I wish to withdraw from this callous, obdurate place,
to live where people do not behave as a robotic race.
September 23, 2021
"O" Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Categories:
subsist, future,
Form:
Rhyme
Hope can transform dreams into
tall towers of steel and glass.
But technology breeds greed;
and no one gets a free pass.
Hunger stalks reality;
armed with the pain that it brings.
And edging insanity;
puppets dance in tangled strings.
Within high society;
curbside beggars don't exist.
For they get swept out of sight;
with just enough to subsist.
The homeless frighten the rich,
schooled in the art of deceit.
For they fail to understand,
why people live on the street.
Wealthy folks safely nestled;
don't worry about the poor.
And yet, the tragedy is;
their hearts were designed for more.
Categories:
subsist, august, community, culture, feelings,
Form:
Quatrain
o o
` ‘
First ` ’ I saw
upon ` ’ golden
fields of daisies
you subsist on @_@ attractions of
sweetest buds abloom
enticing brilliant
with (( )) colour
dancing taste (( )) of nectar on
flowers, you > (( ))
11/18/2016
Categories:
subsist, butterfly,
Form:
Shape
The New Year has come wafting on the wings of winter
The high latitudinal areas of the northern hemisphere
Would be in the grip of frequent snowstorms severe
Throwing life in desolate isolation and out of gear.
The cold wave sub-zero conditions of deprivation would persist
In many sections of population for in poverty they can’t subsist
Who wouldn’t see for long the sun of subservient survival
Through the dense fog of abject abandon and rueful refusal.
The frosty winter nights would fall with wrath
Making many frigid who would seek introvert warmth.
After the winter haze clears the weather would change
The spring would develop many high pressure regions
In the lives’ atmosphere of the aspirant people
Living in the spreading mist of uncertain future climate
With the hope of clear blue sky and sunny temperate days.
They have to brace for the increasing ambient temperature
In the thermal islands in the wake of global warming true or not.
The fanatic heat waves in the summer of discontent
Could blow dust of hatred in the raging desert storm
Might sweep like nimbus cloud across the tormented humanity.
The overcast monsoon sky may fall asunder
After unpredictable cloud burst one after another
On gloomy minds plunged in the trough of depression.
They would sink in the flood brought by heavy rains
In low pressure areas where mental stress would deepen despair.
Hurricanes and tropical storms would spin on trade winds
Wreck havoc bringing misery to many
For they would make landfall on the helpless people of destiny.
The cirrus clouds would slowly clear
The low atmospheric disturbances would subside
As the autumn would arrive sailing on the northern wind
With nip in the air and prospect of bright sunny days.
The occasional gusty winds of the fall
Would blow the broken brown leaves away
The way welted thoughts of the mind
Get swept by the squalls of fast moving times.
The old year would take our agony and dreams
Across the winter to the cold folds of another New Year
And we would wait for yet another spring another time
When our lives would bloom like flowers.
January 7, 2018.
Categories:
subsist, analogy, life, new year,
Form:
Free verse
The midnight moon was full of woe
As ravens soared within its glow
Echoes of the reaper's song
Drift on dark clouds all night long
She who plays is dressed in black
and as her threnody meanders through the mist
the caw of ravens echo back,
On these the reaper does subsist
Her violin sows sorrow and despair
And reaps a river filled with tears
Her beauty belies her deadly tune
So sweet the sound to charm the moon
The thickening mist obscures the moon
Death's melody plays on, without regret
The fallen, through the fields are strewn,
And many more souls will pay their debt
--
4/6/17
Contest: The Poets Shadow
Sponsor: Greg Barden
Categories:
subsist, moon, raven,
Form:
Quatrain
In Whispers of sweet praise of Summer’s lust
she blows a kiss across their reddened cheeks
cools down the heated tryst in hoar frost crust
lays hold with icy clutches slowing creeks.
For time is but a season changing clothes
unfeeling as its passion slow subsides
her lovers but the partners nature chose
share intimacies only she decides.
This sweet contented hue her sated fall
will fade to gray as lovers drift apart
no long goodbye, no bow, no curtain call
as emptiness enshrouds her frozen heart.
The ice will thaw, her dream of love subsist
on memories of spring’s forthcoming tryst.
©10/21/2019
New Fall Sonnets Poetry Contest
Emile Pinet - sponsor
Categories:
subsist, autumn, lust, relationship,
Form:
Sonnet
I walked the garden path holding all the intimate hands,
nurtured in the impermanent world the hope of durability
of me loved and belonged, and me owning and retaining.
Times changed, didn’t know why storm of dismay surged.
The garden got ravaged, the trodden flowers tarnished,
I now walk a lonely walk in the garden turned wasteland.
The crushed thoughts rise from debris in the void mind,
blankness drags dreams down to the edge of extinction.
With the submerging spent sun in my melancholic sky,
the twilight colors of my listless life slowly sink to oblivion,
night waits for my moon at the fringe of the hazy horizon
to ascend across the insurmountable span of the onyx rift.
The wisps of disappearing cloud tinged with fading hues
weave for me the fading tapestry of the departing day.
Behind the shroud of the nocturnal gloom my stars hide
beyond the edge of the immeasurable distressing gulf.
The dust of despair drizzles in darkened supine skyline
from the descending night enveloping the ebony future.
My mangled mind can’t recover the dwindled dreams,
lost in the unfathomable depth of the agonizing abyss.
In my splintered mind at the edge of hope I search,
discover the inner light showing the reality of reason
God has given me to subsist in this life so beautiful,
there’s no cause greater, no motive better than to live.
My fragile footprints fade in the threshold of ashen dusk,
as in lengthening shadow of obscurity I walk the last mile,
hoping to feel God’s grace in the rays of the new sunrise,
I stand too close to the edge of the unbridgeable chasm.
Categories:
subsist, analogy, angst, introspection, life,
Form:
Free verse
Bless Someone
By: Tom Wright
6-9-2019
Because some have not the ability,
To subsist;
And with extended hands toward you,
They plead;
If you’ve been blessed with resources,
To assist;
Don’t miss God’s blessing Ignoring one,
In need.
Categories:
subsist, blessing,
Form:
Lyric
IN PRAISE OF BEAUTY
O beauty allure, beauty of the hyacinth
Doused by wailing drops of dew shroud
And pierced by the radiant shaft of heaven,
Through the rituals of purity
To tread the virginal soil of Venus.
O like the scenery
Of the splendid garden of Aphrodite,
With Pageantry, the art of Pothos and Himeros,
The pearly dross most sought after
Like a wand that spelled all the eyes of men.
Dazzling aurorae shimmering in deep shadows;
Figure beholding of the twinkling crown Andromeda.
Sunrise awakening the greenery;
Ascending furrowed amber terrain of
The gloaming by the countryside!
Habendum et tenedum!
Before the lily white altar an avowal
Of chastity and tranquility enshrined;
On feather quilted bed day and night
With love elixir soothing the body and the soul!
Soul melody in diatonic harmony of
Meshed contralto with resonating baritone.
Swell the homophonic rhythm of Azande
As the pitch from my lips wear and decline
And the tempo of my heart increase!
Scented lavender wafting through subtle air;
Aromatic morning of rose bathed with dew
That transports the mind beyond earthly realm
And capture the heart at whim
Lost in imagination of the form and frame.
Culinary variety spread in romantic atmosphere
In candlelight banquet of cream and crimson;
Sheer delicacy, man’s greatest savour
Whose delights subsist even in her absence;
Whose substance transcends life’s ideal!
Categories:
subsist, beauty, celebration, desire, eulogy,
Form:
Ode
Hijab
Hijab, niqab, jilbab, or chador of ridah.
Draping eloquently the notion of obscurity with expressions so holy.
Living an invisible existence on screen of life.
Suffering in silence; and protecting honor of riwayaat daily.
Should I surrender the will of life, being, self, or khudi?
Don’t show, just hide: don’t feel, but survive.
Don’t love just subsist in this infertile valley.
Don’t cry,
You are a daughter of a contemporary,
Traditional, man of Islam.
For you life hereafter is the prize.
To find yourself when everything is hidden in the ideals of hijab
Is a miracle of love
It’s life greatest surprise.
Saadia Syed
Categories:
subsist, gender,
Form:
Nazm
The heaven's lanterns she commands,
The harmony of ocean's harp.
Her moonlit shadow firmly stands,
And merges at the hem of scarp.
As I approach, afraid to speak,
Her illustration disappears.
Alone I brave the mountain peak,
Her cosmic voice still in my ears.
Express'd within the spectral mist,
Her tender kiss, conveyed so soft.
And on her words, I do subsist;
A multitude of miles aloft.
I then behold the sight surreal,
And ponder secretly my choice:
"Shall I take flight? (My fate I'll seal),
Or will I die a silent voice?"
My reasoning was then postponed.
Her beck'ning gaze that I adhere,
Came back to seize my love, dethroned.
Her sympathy was so austere.
I saw the sky, in half was split.
Beheld the universe immense.
Her fragrance rendered counterfeit
In face of harsh liquid incense.
I spied the Owl in the monsoon,
And glimpsed the Lark with grace outdone.
The former dancing with the moon,
The latter weeping for the sun.
And in her treason, I confide,
In holding on to but her arm.
The temptress of the cliff, my bride,
Will keep me far away from harm.
And so we danced on sky-high rocks,
The temptress of the cliff and I.
Disregarding all the clocks
That once beguiled us from the sky.
And on this cliffside masterpiece,
I felt my life was then complete.
With all my joy and inner peace,
I plunged a hundred-thousand feet.
She stood there singing to the draft,
High up that rocky balcony.
With her success, she cruelly laughed
At my stalemate epiphany.
Temptation preys on ill of wit.
So brook your life's pathetic tiff.
Above all things, do not submit
To her, the temptress of the cliff.
Categories:
subsist, allegory, death, devotion, fantasy,
Form:
Rhyme
The spectral glow of a lantern bobbing
As if tossed upon a stormy sea
Appearing..then fading anon, absorbed
In foggy essence, to fade again so feebly
Once more, ere sinking in finality
Into the quicksand of mist
Mere glow of candle, so dear to see
Seen now…then not,…with capricious twist
The spectral light, drifts through the night
As a ghost through fog and mist
Through ribs of rain, the tremulous light
Chills the brain, befogs the sight
Dimly lit, by lanterns in the mist
Dark clouds upon the soul this night
Fog is the dark abode of lost souls
Who wander without rest with lantern high
The mist, the breath, of hollow death
The fog, the food , on which to subsist
Tis best my friend, not to be, nor ne’r to see….
The glow in the fog and mist
UNSUPPORTED CODE
Categories:
subsist, nature,
Form:
Rhyme
Under inexorable gravity’s pull,
galaxies often move toward one another.
Closer and closer they come to each other,
till astronomic smashups happen in full.
For no less than two of them, possibly three,
such a scenario has been predicted,
as computer simulations depicted
through the Hubble images researchers see.
Milky Way will have a new identity.
It’s destined to get a major makeover.
Andromeda’s bound for a broad takeover.
Milkomeda’s what they’ll call this entity.
In that head-on cosmic collision in view—
a colossal stellar encounter full-blown—
it is indeed likely our Sun will be thrown
from its present locale to a region new.
The galaxies into each other will plow,
but our planetary realms won’t be destroyed
nor be propelled into an outer space void,
though stars will not have the same orbits as now.
They’ll go round a novel galactic center.
The fate for our own solar system in store
is perhaps to be tossed far off from the core
of the reshaped ellipse that it will enter.
Of course, by the time the collision takes place,
the surface of Earth, without intervention,
will be much too hot for water retention,
because of the Sun’s super-luminous face.
This means no terrestrial life could subsist
or think that the heavens are seemingly strange.
Thus no one we know of would notice the change,
and our worldly woes will have ceased to exist…
For a while, the night sky will be all ablaze
with new star formations in radiant rays,
but at last in the merger’s more final phase
it will look like spilled milk in a bright white haze.
Still there’s no need to fret or to get upset.
This melding won’t start till four billion years hence.
And that’s way away in the far future tense…
So it’s no use crying over spilt milk yet!
~ Harley White
Categories:
subsist, earth, image, space, star,
Form:
Rhyme
I once lived in a realm
A kingdom as vast as an open farm
Wondering why I was offered a place so warm?
Sitting without a scepter, a head with no crown
I am just a humble servant
Not a king but one vagrant
I am honored to be an entrant
To be recognized as true servant
I have sailed many seas
Through the years lurched and subsist
Yours is the kingdom where I stand and exist
My life in your palm, so kind and so warm...
I commend, not resist!
Categories:
subsist, appreciation, birth, life, moving
Form:
Verse
In the rough, cold pavement they sleep
Prone to the elements that drain them deep
A harsh concrete jungle where they live
Their lives subsist on people who give
They are children with adolescent minds
Roaming the streets is their daily grind
At red lights they run with rags on hand
Wiping windshields as fast as they can
When stomachs signal hungry pangs
Relying on rancid food in trash cans
Or press their noses outside restaurants
Where people feast, they are in want
They make their rounds begging for alms
Seldom do people drop coins in their palms
Most will just think they’ll use it for drugs
Can’t fault them to feel like being mugged
So when a convincing offer comes along
They grabbed it even if they know it’s wrong
To skillfully dip fingers and pick pockets
And slice through bags to get one’s wallet
So tell me! Do kids like those have a choice?
The state is deaf to their pleading voice
When programs are bare for social welfare
Calamities are central when no one cares
But here lies the problem and it’s the truth
To fight crime we must look after our youth
For when they have grown to be a man
We can take comfort that we did all that we can!
Categories:
subsist, poverty, truth, youth, drug,
Form:
Rhyme