Decays Poems | Examples

List of Member Poems

Nothing as it seems

Opening with complete ignorance
With a loop like tolerance
Most likely with Vengeance
Lace with an effect of balances

The choices of no obedience
No room for obvious clearance
Noting that there is no more chance
The thought of evil romances

Leaving a thought that may
An equivalence of being a prey
When things come with hope that say
A final abrupt stop in decays

The final outcome of a dream
The flow of beautiful stream
Then a burst of angry steam
Things never are what it seems

The Shattered Sanctuary

The gold ring slumbers on
the nightstand,
An unfaithful wife in a
broken marriage.
She walks the hallway with a
quiet tread,
And brings a stranger's scent
into her bed.
The sweet deceptions linger
on her tongue,
While all our sacred promises 
are wrong.
She smiles at texts kept
hidden from her husband 
sight,
And turns her back to meet
her lover at midnight.
The Architecture of her home 
decays,
Lost in the fabric of her
deceitful, sinful, and shifting
ways.

Premium Member My Heart Is Empty

My heart is empty
But my mind is full
So I have all these thoughts
But no feelings attached

My ears hear thoughtfully
But my tongue tastes tepidly
And the person I was 10 years ago
Well, he no longer exists

I feel like a manic mannequin 
Masquerading as a man
Once vibrant eyes have gone dark
And I'm closer to death than birth

I write these words in my head
But they're written by foreign fingers
Lacking the deftness
That they used to have

Everyone thinks you die once
But after all I've been through
I think you die a thousand painful deaths
Before the Grim Reaper comes calling

The vibrancy of the mind fades
An aging body breaks down and decays
Hope transmogrified into one day at a time
But it just doesn't get any better

I feel like a software update went wrong
And erased the operating system
Like when Windows replaced XP with Vista
But it was never quite the same

My heart is empty
But my mind is full
But my feelings are attached here
To fill my empty heart


Premium Member No News

No news is good news how true today
dying media rotting is the truth decays
Just report the facts and let us decide
why the nastiness, meanness and lies
Never even facts just ugly speculation
grabbing headlines for ratings sensation
Ruined lives innocent hurt for their fun
can reputations be repaired when lies undone
Stopped watching national media long ago
happier without the trauma they impose
Crisis and threats pile up each moment of the day
doom and gloom besieges using fear to persuade
Nothing is good, their bias always right, all is bad
never time for gladness must remain sad and mad
toxic narratives leads to violence galore
their sick believers only want more
Don't need em, won't listen to them anymore
they are fake news with falsehoods I deplore.

Premium Member Seth

Carpets stained and ripped,
blackened halls with cold chandeliers.
Hungry embers beg to be ignited,
no light may enter the forbidden chambers.

Mold grows on broken windows,
drowning out screams of thunder.
Secrets remain in scattered glass,
reflections of ancestors’ past.

Hope decays in hollow rooms,
shadows wait behind closed doors,
secrets lie ruined in rubble,
shame scattered in every corridor.

Upon the throne of dust and dread,
this place reigns above the dead.
Trapped within this tomb out of breath—
is the one that wears the mask of death.

Premium Member cycle unheard

complaints unheard rise,
strikes,bands,blockades,clash in streets.
curfew cloaks the peace.

season's rain comes down-
no passage left to flow through;
ponds gone, all encroached.

barren hills lie still
rain rushes wild, rivers swelling
overflowing rage.

rain's soothing noise dreadful,
yet the fresh plowed fields waiting
for the green reborn.

frail cycle decays,
endless wait for cries to sound;
complaints long unheard.


Voir Dire Series 1 : on love

Based on Suzette Richards Poem of same Title Verse 5
Written for Contest of same Title
Feb.26
Placed : First in Contest 
__________________________

love is not a topic like wisdom or faith
it evolves not as such awareness learnings
over cause of span or with experience 
life's needle, thread, spindle as well as loom song
weaves virtue and vice simultaneously 

vital fantasy, from spontaneous realm
inconceivable for mind to discern love 
motion birthed from heart’s vulnerable petals
amorvivium* has zilch tie to mentality

____________________________

*scientific term for purified love indicating that it is only phenomenon that exists after cosmos decays

The End Drops

The hum of the furnace
The buzz of silence
The smell of old
The feel of defiance.

The loneliness aches
The chair rocks
The TV stares 
The night docks.

The time ticks
The memories fade
The wrinkles deepen
The age decays.

The sun rises
The sun sets
The day ends
The dark threats.

The eyes close 
The heart stops
The family cries
The end drops.

The Cowards

Truth is heavy.
That is why
only the brave
carry it.

When you speak it,
you stand alone.
Crowds prefer silence.
Silence is safer.

The world is full
of cowards.
So cowards are governed
by fools.

Europe decays.
Africa bleeds.
The earth burns.
And you watch.

Wars are waged
by idiots.
They shout.
You nod.

Children fall
in Ukraine.
In Gaza.
In Congo.
In Sudan.
In Libya.

Their cries rise.
Your courage does not.

When truth is written,
you exile it.
Not to protect peace,
but to please power.

Demons wear titles.
Madmen wear suits.
Merchants of death
call themselves leaders.

Democracy crowns them.
Cowardice keeps them.

Money buys your silence.
Fear signs the contract.
Dignity is sold
cheaply.

Machiavelli knew this:
a state dies
not by enemies,
but by obedient men.

The world burns
while you watch.
Not because you are weak—
but because
you chose
to be
the Coward.

Vineyard Days

Stolen kisses 
After Sunday prayers 
This brings me back to my vineyard days 

Playing fools 
Feeling like warriors 
Humming the song of the mockingjays

Walking glistening streams 
Dreaming sizable dreams 
Under moonlight beams
Caught in a violet haze

Promises kept, 
What can’t be said will be wept
I’ll find my way to you in every maze

My heartiest devotion
To this fleeting notion
Vows whispered gently 
Now written in blood 

For the longest I believed that time decays
But you’ve restored the faith of my vineyard days

American Mafia

They did not crown themselves.
They designed the crown.

They do not rule by force—
they rule by necessity.

New presidents.
Same masters.
Different speeches.
Same contracts.

They manufacture enemies
so the people forget
who owns them.

They sell fear.
They trade chaos.
They launder guilt
through patriotism.

War is not a failure.
It is a business model.

If blood does not profit the citizen,
ask who owns the profit.

Power does not shout.
It whispers.

It does not announce itself.
It embeds itself.

Religion becomes a shield.
Law becomes a blade.
Morality becomes decoration.

Leaders are not elected.
They are approved.

Every mouth speaks freedom.
Every hand signs obedience.

But illusion decays.
Slowly.
Then suddenly.

Even myths expire.
Even giants bleed.

They can erase faces—
not memory.

History is not merciful.
It is accurate.

A criminal can rename itself.
But never cleanse itself.

If America is the mask—
who is rehearsing behind it?

The Trickster

He abides within the seeping creaks
Of this my cold, dust-ridden chamber – 
Upon whom profligacy wears itself
In garments silken unto ruggedness,
Palpable against my holy essence.

He speaks unto me dreams of romance,
Whereupon my rotting soul decays
Amidst the fruitless trees of my youth,
Whose twisted branches melt the wax 
Of the fading sun.

He shrieks in melancholic pleasure,
And the shriveled leaves of autumn
Crumble beneath his whims, no longer
Breathing upon my soiled demesne.

Premium Member METAMORPHOSIS

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The seed  planted in frozen earth now grows,  
     through storms and time, its tender stems arose.  
          Once choked by thorns, stubborn, toward light it goes,  
               No pleas for light—it takes what sun bestows.  

The moth unfurls from silk it once outgrows,  
     the river carves the rock, no hammer slows.  
     Wounds I wore now bloom in the vein I chose,  
          old meanings dissolve where deeper Knowing flows.  

Stars fade as night gives way to dawn’s quiet repose~
     my former self decays, unmourns, and does expose
          my ego, that internal script that age and turbulence depose.   
               soul reshaped—my life is now stunning prose.

Premium Member The Selfish Egos of War

"I am great. I'm an elephant in strength.
I'm a lion, tiger, bear, and beaver.
I can measure things by their breadth and length.
Am I not the globe's greatest achiever?"

Thus, the ruler said and proclaimed a war.
Things turned into a hustle and bustle.
Terror and tension lurked in each one's core.
Nature, with an anguish, seemed to rustle.

Artillery and anti-tank missiles
With naval and air-based weaponry clashed.
Amidst thunderous blasts, roars, and whistles
Unquenched egos, into shells, crashed.

Blood, from the wounds of the soldiers, bubbled.
Deaths and decays of the humans doubled.

Premium Member Enough to Shine

Clean break, one intended for you. One 
only you can make.  
As the ceiling dims and floor decays,
there's still time for mending things,
changing your ways. 
    
Will it get old, will it wither away?
Of course it will, remember
from dust to dust..
shine anyway.    

Someone is watching, someone will notice 
in a year, two, or two thousand?
noone knows with any certainty,
especially not me. 

What's gone down in pages
will not be in vain. Never was,
your labor, your love.

Oh how strange, so wonderful, 
this, your moment.  
At the same time, 
always and never to be.

Can't promise it'll be enough, in a life. 
Only you can assess it's worth.
But what you do, what you will do, and what you did..  
in time, will be enough.

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