Best Tumultuous Poems

Do not vainly look in those remote
Places,
That, once, were acquainted with a 
Small part of me;         ...

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Painting is a placid lake upon which poetry is reflected in silence

while

Poetry is a tumultuous sea that makes painting roar! 








© Demetrios Trifiatis 
 ...

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And I begin my own steep climb into 
The Chalkland Downs              ...

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A soul unites with a vessel. With no preconceived notion of what lies ahead.
A soul, upon arrival is molded by senses, by experiences, by emotions.
A...

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In the midst of great turmoil and strife, 
There is a force manifestly to be heard…seen….touched
A voice—ever so soft… yet loud enough to break mountains...

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My Beloved, 
My fervent Solemn passion
My LOVE bound to you
My Darling, I am entirely thine
As kindling in pure Formidable flame
My Beloved, My precious love
My better...

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Dancing In Horror With Fate In Blackest Abyss
Collaboration with Kurt Ravidas

I walk mountain storm, step out to cut deep its edge
forever tempting that fall from...

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With the onset of advancing age, so I find,        
A man grows weary of all mundane talk; ...

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In a world bejeweled 
with tainted trinkets,
and feigned flowers,
we follow the 
wailing waves below 
whirling wind,
like secluded silhouettes,
stranded on the
cusp of chaos,
unable to find the...

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Dancing In Horror With Fate In Blackest Abyss 
Collaboration with Robert J. Lindley 

I walk mountain storm, step out to cut deep its edge
forever tempting...

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Blessed in abundance that manifests in our 
stressed daily interaction with our fellow man, and the sincerest 
form of our inner wellbeing is the outpour...

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My muse is a poetic
flower garden,
blooming lilacs in 
barren meadows,
but I still remember 
how I heeded
haunting heartbeats
in paradise,
whilst praying 
for your lustrous light,
to descend onto...

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Antares' red glow bears firmly down
upon plush, chartreuse carpet
lying prone against the obsidian expanse,
blanketing sections of a remote 
blue sphere, purling,

spinning helplessly 
through distant time...

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"Selkie"



Tomorrow never comes
shadows dance on walls
the wanting of bodies electric
pressed fast and tight
in the hot surrender 
of wet sheets sailing 
over solitary satin skin
neroli oiled...

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I believe that poetry is and of is was were have has been of as one pretenses a 
poetic practical pompous, pro  (p) ransomedramatical...

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