with a smile on their face
Camouflaging the hidden sadness
How many live their lives like this!
He never thought that he would win
it was another grift to spin
and so like every venture past
he used each trick to make it last
The coup became his newest con
to be debated when he’s gone
his tangled web of racist lies
would give rebirth to fascist rise
His life has been a grand facade
camouflaging all that’s flawed
a narcissist from head to toe
a clown in charge of every show
But now he’s running out of time
as Judges rule on every crime
the house of cards his lifetime built
is now a roadmap to his guilt
Easy feeling
Change hues easy
Like octopus.
Mysterious blue
as midnight moonlight spills on
meandering dreams.
Once butterflies' ball is done
merlot bliss lies past the sun!
Red Mars reveries
join nights of mulberry rose
camouflaging green.
So many are not sleeping
when the yellow warblers sing.
I'm an emerald
echo of earth's
caterpillar, a
camouflaging
hiatus of muse
midst karmic rainstorms.
Enslaved to jealous
stars flaming within
infernal wings,
I yearn to spellbind
sacred heaven's throne,
chasing subconscious
liberty in crowned
soul of marine eyes.
Tracing saffron
fingertips in
silent smokes of
Venus, willingly,
I've scarred tuscan shine
of Aphrodite
with pearl's thermal ache.
So now, when new year's
first sunflower sings ~
breathing ambrosia
in gemstones of
bejeweled healing,
a poet shall be
reborn as a
ruby-amethyst,
snowtail butterfly.
Doris was a beet who was well-loved
she was symmetrically and artistically beautiful.
the entire garden decided to hide her,
because they could not bear to see her eaten
carrots, radishes, green beans and peas took turns
camouflaging Doris, so the eaters would not notice her.
she thrived all summer long, getting bigger and bigger
by the time the farmers noticed her, she had petrified.
weirdly enough, Doris did not stop growing.
she was twenty-two foot tall by that winter.
and she had turned into a beautiful gray tree.
a rare beet tree, beloved by a garden.
“when that that never was dies ~
consciousness flies to new highs”
we walk on a lonely road
alone in the midst of a crowd
each soul trudges under a heavy cross
fake smiles camouflaging destiny’s dark shroud
we seek solace but there’s no safety in numbers
inane game of one-upmanship now dreary
heads or tails, either way we lose
our bones have grown weary
from dark dungeons of despair
where fear of freedom has us bound
we beseech the gods in far away heavens
to show us the way how ethereal bliss may be found
our entreaty unanswered, we find ourself again alone
with all hope lost, we cease to struggle and strive
turning attention inward in the void of silence
we find within our heart a divine bliss hive
as affirmed in all the ancient scriptures
we recognise we are love and bliss and light
unbound is our delight beholding our true essence
self-existent light, pulsating unendingly by day and night
A figure haunting, darkness is revealed.
The serial killer roams the silent night,
In search of prey, a deadly, chilling sight.
A mask of normalcy, a facade so clever,
Camouflaging evil, deceiving forever.
A predator lurking, devoid of remorse,
Leaving behind a trail, a ghastly discourse.
Their eyes, a void, devoid of empathy,
No mercy, no conscience, a grim symphony.
They prey upon innocence, their hearts in ice,
A dance of terror, their deadly dice.
Each victim chosen, their life's flame snuffed,
A macabre dance, a tragedy so tough.
The echoes of their deeds, a haunting dirge,
Leaving behind shattered lives, a mournful surge.
But in the shadows, heroes rise with might,
To bring justice forth, to end the endless night.
They chase the killer, determined and strong,
Seeking justice, correcting every wrong.
The tale of the serial killer's reign,
A dark reminder of humanity's strain.
May light prevail, and darkness be undone,
So peace may reign, a victory hard-won.
Bliss
majestic, enchanted
delighting, gleaming, mystifying
dreams, thrills, shadows, sadness
nagging, dispiriting, crucifying
downcast, crestfallen
woe
Bright
radiant, luminous
glistening, beaming, scintillating,
tints, hues, ennui, bleakness,
numbing, overcasting, camouflaging,
Unlit, tenebrous
dark
Sky
magical, beryl blue
inspiring, stunning, captivating,
clouds, sun, mountains, rivers
farming, cultivating, purifying,
scenic, beauteous
earth
A male frog was playing near the swamp, being watched by a chameleon. The frog sensed someone is watching him, but cannot clearly see where what he senses stands.
From the bent bark of a tree near the swamp, the chameleon with constricted eyes slowly moves close to the frog.
The frog saw the chameleon and said, "Why are you watching me?"
The chameleon said, "I am fascinated by your glossy green skin."
"Thank you," said the frog, "but you are more fascinating because you can change colors -- camouflaging anywhere without being noticed!"
"I may be, but I look ugly and nasty to everyone." replied the chameleon.
The frog said, "Everything on earth is fascinating and everybody is beautiful."
"What made you say that?" asked the chameleon.
"When I was born, I was ugly too. While growing up, many of my kind didn't play with me because of my appearance."
"Can we be friends?" the chameleon asked.
"Right now, we already are. Just think beautiful about yourself and forever to everybody you will always be!"
Green! This is what comes before me when I think of parrots.
Aren't, yet, red, blue, indigo and mix of all their merit?
Mingling midst moss-green leaves; moving like calm breeze midst them,
Parrots have their ways of singing their daily sans-anthem...
Papayas and pomegranates stand so shy when they arrive,
Camouflaging their colors, these, within and midst them thrive.
Careless and carefree...? Nay. They know their undefined freedom.
Amalgamating with the limitless nature-kingdom...
short, sturdy, curvy beak that resembles an antique art,
As though, within it hides austere, authentic earthling heart...
I cannot bear them brooding in a cage, silver or gold,
Every parrot in us should come out courageous and bold...!
25 September 2022
A Flock of Birds Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Julia Ward
Sunlight sifts through shimmering aspens
Casting ghost-like shadows on the forest floor
Camouflaging the smaller critters shyly
Skittering among the drying brown leaves
Protecting their well-hidden burrows
Sometimes I hear them chattering warning
In sharp squeaky voices so charming,
Not unlike the chirping of the nesting birds
When strangers invade their territories.
Stray sunbeams scamper across carpeted floor
Capturing a hidden hungry hog snake stalking
A chipmunk with leering, beady black eyes
Menacingly, when all else is tranquil hereabout.
Suddenly all is dark, the sun dips behind a cloud,
The snake lunges at the unsuspecting creature
As a crow abruptly caws loudly thrice overhead.
Written May 17, 2022
FRONT PAGE PICK
All-Poetry
July 23, 2022
FRONT PAGE PICK
All-Poetry
October 22, 2022
My reflection wears a mask
Face painted to hide my tears
Camouflaging hidden fears
If anyone tries to get close
I shatter like a fallen flask
Killing all hopes
"I Shall A Mighty Hunter Be!"
“I shall a mighty hunter be,
The King of Kills, by God’s decree!
Savannahs always guarantee
a vantage camouflaging me.
I’ll lie in wait with sharpened claws
… until her keys unlock our doors!
My human’s finished many chores,
including patronizing stores
for meals to place inside my bowl.
Meow! Dispense the chicken whole!
Provide the victuals! That’s your goal!
Prepare some veal, pâte´, and sole …
Since after feasts I sleep a lot,
I found myself the perfect spot
to dream of feather wands and plot
to catch that fast, red laser dot!”
- - E. V. Wyler - -
This hymn which is achingly beautiful,
reminds me of you.
Indication of love and it reminds me of you.
It's been quite long,
and exhausted I am, of camouflaging my feelings for you.
Never realized when I slipped in love with you.
Perturbed I am not,
I am fine.
This heart now a lunatic,
slowly slipping down to the oblivion.
Evocative thoughts of your scent,
swells up my eyes with tears.
Perturbed I am not,
I am fine,
resonance of your voice still lingers in my ears.
Evening's I ignite the lamps around your scented memory,
eyelids turn moist which once used to drench,
thinking of you.
Mutilated I am,
just left to be scattered away.
With few debris of your feel,
that still remains to quit.
Perturbed I am not,
I am fine.
©Chitra Arun Sept2021
Related Poems