Circumscribe Poems | Examples

PRECARIOUS BORDERS

A republic finds itself in a wobbly state,
Governance shrouded by an opaque regime,
Some strands emerge together into a credible tapestry,
Many weaves yet to emerge from the loom.

Decades of simmering hostility,
Punctuated by spasms of bonhomie,
Sputtering out into recrimination—
These circumscribe our strategic choices.

The populace divided, a schism stark and deep,
Hawks and doves in stark contrast.
Neighbourhood's dangerous gaze, fixed.
A hiccup to thrive without peace.

WINGED ARCHIPELAGO

Green waters circumscribe an island’s pallid face,   
Hexagons of light, scattered jewels on the waves.   

Earthly hues, against litharge seas, shimmering gleam;
Albatross wings glide, an immaculate blue dream.

The scene suspends time, and worldly cares release - 
A whisper for the human eye, a quiet aurora’s peace.

I am Human

I am Human
I am complex in my nature,
And unmethodical.
I can appear aimless, but eventually suprise you when I reach mountain tops.

And the sweetness you see can be decieving
Rest assured bitterness may be hiding 
In secret places within me.
I may be friendly today, then arrogant in a decade
And that will still be me.

I constantly grow,
I constantly evolve,
Like a chameleon I instantly change with my environment.
Just a warning, Never say you know me.

I may allow you to know,
what I want you to know.
And unfold only what gives me peace,
I may deny you the satisfaction to see what eats down my spine.

I roll like seasons,
perhaps with treasons.
However, never lie to yourself 
and Say "you know the other"

For, reality is "the only person you can dare to entirely circumscribe
or rather cognize is yourself"
Not me, Not another

For I am human,
and as humans we are all unpredictable.
we are extraordinary living beings
And involuted

Advice To Circumscribe

"Margaret's activities must be circumscribed," said the doctor.
Her husband was horrified.
He did not know women could be circumscribed.

Interna Inferno

internal inferno
my pupils circumscribe
fonts of futility
while opportunity leaks
between my fingers 
weak, bent
crippled for the moment 
by cruel serendipity 
it is said
“better off dead”
but the dead unheard
leave unfinished soliloquies
between dates
etched in stone
filled with momentary eternities
while i limp along
past the parade of their
final serenity
the crescendo
of wind
stirring up memory
fueling this
internal inferno
and another step
towards possibility

Dark Thoughts of Trees

DARK THOUGHTS OF TREES

The trees that circumscribe the cricket field
[Stumps drawn ‘til equinox returns the sun]
Neath grey October sky a mood revealed
Their pensive mien betrays dark thought as one:-

“Our limbs close link in woodland brother form
These limbs once built your homes and ships of fame
And fine oak caskets whereby you’ll be borne
When you no more wield willow in your game”

“And when the field’s no longer mowed and even
When you have lost the power to play, and deign
To pass the carefree summer hour believing
That it shall be forever your domain”

“We’ll spread our seed, in time see restoration
Of ancient forest wild, a sylvan nation”

Bullies, Dictators, and Potentates

By what perverse mental capacity
Does the bully gain satisfaction
In administering agony upon another

By what human deficiency 
Does the dictator righteously believe
Their dictates should circumscribe a citizenry

By what delusional misconception
Does a people follow in obedience
A potentate’s decrees of servitude to state

By what level of constitutional dismantling
Does “We the People” have to be unglued
Before our comrades vote to remove potentates, dictators, and bullies

Orbit

If I want to circumscribe you
To revolve around you
With you as the centre
Will you let me?

If I want to plagiarize you
To replicate you
Word by word
Will you let me?

If I want to drench you with love
Emptying my heart
Ever, forever
To the brink of insolvency,
Will you let me?

Will you let me be,
Will you let me be around you?
Will you let me sing to you?
Will you let me dance to your tunes?
Will you let me love you???

@ Som

Ballad of the Hollows

Woe the few brave
That fear cowered behind
Waiting to deprave
Till shots rung
Viewed as the addled
We are engulfed
We are only
The silhouette of our substance
We have been formed crudely
By the circumscribe of tyrants
But we will not be deterred
The restrictors will not dilute the glory
Of those few brave who rebuked
our transgressors 
We are caged
Like animals we stalk
But we are not the egregious they seek
All they are the ones unperturbed
By their forfeited ethical standing
Soldiers that never atoned
For their precarious standing 
In the voluptuous kingdom come
Yet we are indefatigable
Yet we will not forget

October 9th,2019
"Give Me Your Best New Poem" sponsored by Emile Pinet

Mission Impossible

it is imperative that we do not circumscribe to being thorny
Veritably all will acceed to rising in the morning.
Though melodramatic we must abnegate and repress that static. All the pervading overcast of complicity we must abtly resolve. Hear many cry God Save the King, iconoclastic remain and God save us all.

it is our allegiance to the world we interlope, enfranchised from the phlegm that strangles hope. How heavy are these portent gestures we bare? Our struggles will engender many to care. Those who resonate vying as something glorious,  do sway from that which is tantamount and decorous.

Acknowledge this morphology to unfold, brighten the efficacy from cold. Leave these words engraved posthumously in your mist and quail not though our time desists.

Her Unbearable Lightness

The circles of the bloody moon,
slide Northward towards the Rive Nile,
Death and raven drift above,
As mother guards her nest with pride.

The nightingales are singing near,
The nightly winds leave the door ajar,
The big bellied old man, unfamiliar,
Shows fatigue on his face, so clear.

The sheer brilliance of Mother's many vibrant colors,
fills my heart with such unwavering joy,
As she pulls and folds the table cloth,
She sings with the bloody wood, such joy.

The silent man, like a mocha brown ape,
sprawls at the window sill and gapes,
Mother brings in the mango slices,
Bananas, oranges and the summer grapes.

The silent vertebrate in brown,
smiles the frowns then concentrates then withdraws,
then the silent bellied man in brown,
tears at the fruits with his murderous paws.

And still Mother's lovely grin,
circumscribe her dazzling white denticle,
as this man tears into these mango slices,
she looks at him in adulation, such a spectacle!

Song of Praise

My God, if I could but express
my trembling gratitude of heart
that You do love me as I am
and grace to me You do impart,
I loud would lift my voice in praise
to let my tributes rise to Thee,
who out of longing placed in me
the seed of immortality.

Your definition long I sought
within the scope of human thought;
but, though I stretched my finite mind,
Your majesty could not be caught.
The words deserving of Your might
elude my lips and leave me mute;
I do not know You well enough
to catalogue Your attributes.

You are too wonderfully real,
too vast for intellect to grasp;
I cannot fathom our Your depths
nor circumscribe You in my clasp;
yet, Your compassions poured on me
demand a sacrifice of praise:
accept the singing of a heart
that longs for You through all its days.

Faye Lanham Gibson
Copyright, 1987

Kite Flying

Circumscribe FALL winds
No soaring up to heaven
Not a chance at all

Still

The house lights dim. The curtain comes up. A door opens and the light from the hall gently 
caresses the contour of a woman in her forties at stage left. Her hair is stubble. A limp wig 
lay lifeless on the lamp stand to her right. Her face is predominantly covered with a mask. 
Not so long ago mascara and makeup complemented her beauty. However tonight she has 
none. Small penlights flash and beep. Her left arm that once dripped with gold and precious 
jewels now hangs lifeless off the bed adorned with wires an I.V’s. Her right arm is in a cast. 
Her limbs and torso leaves no question of her skeleton to the imagination. On the nightstand 
to her left stands a picture of a family on a beach. Monitors and lights circumscribe her bed 
flashing and beeping…and flashing…and then they stop…all is still No music, just murmurs of 
disbelief from the audience. All Is still and still nothing. Some people in the front get up and 
leave. The door slowly closes. Curtain comes down and lights come up. End of act one.
 


By Robb A. Kopp

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