Devolves Poems | Examples

Dark Days Are Coming

Dark Days Are Coming

Dark days are coming
Loping over the far horizon
Distant still, a little,
Yet they approach, all the same.

The familiar disappears
Note by note
As the past piles up behind
Pushing our mutual lives ahead
Towards Who Can Say;

The windows close;
The doors are shut,
We cannot say what remains

We cannot see
The distant shore:
We cannot grasp the shape
Of the ruin that is approaching
But we know
Its consummation will be complete,
So we will grieve
As grieve we must
As the completion of our memories
Devolves to dust,
As the shadows of our minds
Establish trust 
In what is now and what will be
In what we think and what we see

No - This is not Illusion.
No - Nor neither is it confusion.
This is how it all plays out,
This the end of desperate doubt:

The Dark days come,
There is no escape.
Will you not accept
Their gentle rape?

Breathless in the void

“Let silence teach”, the master said
“that soul may be by God’s hand fed,
whence graced by His touch, we ascend,
on choosing to be by love led.”

Inertia cajoles us to blend
with the crowd that we may defend,
attachments to which our heart clings,
though all that begins will soon end.

Time holds its breath when our heart sings
and it is in these little things,
moments when our ego dissolves,
from our very core, soul’s light springs.

When head to heart power devolves,
the scent of love conflicts resolves,
whence thus doing nothing at all,
our true Self as God’s spark evolves.

When we see, we know and recall,
our luminous Self standing tall
and breathless beholding this sight,
we’re blown away in a bliss squall.

Wonderstruck beholding God’s light,
the flame that banishes the night,
we are at peace, feeling complete,
heart dancing with unbound delight.

Mindscapes

A deep pit with a crumbling edge.
Far below,
is a muddy pool swarming with crocodilians.
There is someone with me, a boy.
I shouldn't have taken the child here.

I am slipping, taking him with me,
he won't let go of my hand.

We are sliding on pebbly scree.
A gun drags at my hip,
its weight pulls us down
to where green-scaled
and armored reptiles
thrash in a melee.

One mindscape devolves into another.
I’m a visitor to strange
and as yet unmapped streets.
I've lost my parked car
somewhere between many unfamiliar
city blocks.

Home is a door in the back of my mind,
I suspect that behind it
is a child who knows the way back.

A small boy appears,
he is holding a tin wind-up crocodile,
one his dad once bought him.

At his side a long-barreled revolver,
the same type of weapon
I purchased in Florida
in the event of an alligator attack.

bebop pop sprout

buds beckon to pop
leaves unfurl reveal green scroll
spring devolves uncurls

Equality For All

"We appreciate the popular democratic intention,"
began the Drag Queen Ball proclamation,
'Equity for All'

We would even more appreciate
a more specific lack of pretention:
'Equity for All Victims'
of Straight 
White 
Patriarchal Privileged
Trauma.

The masculine hotness we admire,
and gladly serve,
is a renewed ecofeminist face
to replace past Patriarchal
Capitalist
unfortunate RightWing embrace.

Ecocide,
like Transgender Matricide,
devolves from Patriarchal-Capitalist 
self-fulfilling dark prophecies
win/lose zero-sum survivalist economies
fueled by hellish
anthro-privileged
dis-rapturous
anti-health for all
anti-living Earth becoming All
monotheistically desperate
demonic despair

Of a Straight White FatherGod
incapable of ecocidal repair
while continuing to invest
in punishing deviance
from Straight White Male 
cosmic monotheistic glare.

Theory of Devolution

Prayer devolves to Meditation
    Meditation toward Prayer  

  As long as the Master's listening
    As long as you know that He's there

Zombie

Little birdy said “a lot of coma coming soon”
When the earth chills down with a blood red moon
Silent shrieks abound as the brain dissolves 
Big mistake on the uptake man devolves
"Wrong again!" the only right I’ve ever heard
Weaned off electronics from a full blown nerd
Hope to keep my pattern going and be wrong once more 
Otherwise, we all have zombies scratching at the door

All the Splendor

The rose
natures
fairest scent
covering
the valley
pales
compared to the
smell of your
perfume
on a letter.

If Aphrodite
Goddess
of beauty
of love
swift she
devolves into
a wretched hag
given the chance
to love
you.

And Shakespeare
godly master
great creator
of words
dull to me
when I
hear your
sweet voice
calling to me
from the page.

Such is my
truth
the sum of
all the splendor
and more
(though it persists)
will not
ever amount
to one iota
of you.


(click on the pic to preview my poetry book!)

The Hinterland

Democracy devolves into tyranny, Plato cautioned.
Flooded by the frigid torrent of factionalism,
will we certify his prediction?

Blinded by the prevarication of public discourse.
Numbed by the inundation of disinformation.
Crippled by the conspiracy of doubt.
The real deep state festers in our cortex,
a place where the charlatans of fallacy 
invade,
a dwelling where terrorists of mind 
take control.

But the terrain before us is vast.
The dense forest and effulgent meadows ahead are unmapped,
musky, fructuous forest floor perfumes the breeze,
The scarlet skyline of the dewy untrodden beckons us. 
Abundant life is our rehearsal.
Can we honestly say we know for what?

Yet, such rapture is eloquent in our dreams.
Such reverie will arrest the parsing of our quintessence.
Our distortions are lifted when we are united
in communitarian struggle.


Published Online 4/2021: The Opiate Magazine
Also scheduled for print publication: summer, 2021

Dada

He came beating a path
That devolves everything 
That is norm

Strangely kitted 
Strangling patterns 
Dawning and hatching 
Stirring the hope
Of the unmasked kind

Erasing all dreads
Settling to rest
All that was held aloof

Villanelle: Don'T Some Live Life the Way He Or She Wants It

Villanelle : Don't some live Life the way he or she wants it

Don't some live Life the way he or she wants it
Look around and see who lives resounding lives
If I were Life's Playwright won't I so fix it

Make both Yang and Yin agree to make things fit
Into the entire Scheme of Things which us drives
Won't some live Life the way he or she wants it

No playwright can banish conflict from his Script
He'd play to empty seats actors who mime lives
If I were Life's Playwright won't I so fix it

So Evil-Doers reign supreme to make it
The way the Play devolves on stage each scene contrives
Won't some live Life the way he or she wants it

Not to shift blame on either won't I judge it
Best to make Authorities live double lives
If I were Life's Playwright won't I so fix it

Doubt not why Evil-Doers always make it
Protected pardoned cherished Queen Bees in hives
Don't some live Life the way he or she wants it
If I were Life's Playwright won't I so fix it

© T. Wignesan - Paris,  2018

Loss

Why is it so much harder
to lose than to gain?

Why does what we don’t possess
plague us so much, while all we have
is so abundant?

Is it a kind of Darwinian determinism?
Determined to hunger for what we imagine?

Gratification devolves into disappointment 
in an instant.

Like food fed into a grinder,
Pulp recycled into new hungers.

If I could lose my hunger,
Maybe I could lose my loss?

©dbyrne jan 2014

Once the Domain of Birds

Beetles, most likely, felled the giant.
A gruesome deterioration,
of a quiet magnitude,
ravaged inward.
Until, in the cold night,
root structure surrendered
from hardened ground,
to a misery of horizontal dust.
And where once the domain of birds,
was glorified above,
now gives shelter to ants and grubs.
Golden bark breathes no more.
A deathly gray instead petrifies,
the deceased former shade giver.
And yet as cell churns to molecule,
and molecule devolves its complexity,
soil enriches.
Earth becomes fertile.
And the dust again gives way to life.

Benadryl

So far removed from our primitive nature...we don't even hear when GOD speaks...we'd rather adhere to the rules and the foolery...thus so man devolves back to crawling on his knees...this time from being defeated...never lived in caves only a slave to his own mental imprisonment...should have used animal-like instincts to fight to be free...but even kings of jungles can't even stand without their roots and their land...so soil the seeds of knowledge planting trees to be grown...not to be hung from...but to extend olive branches to the ones I am talking to now.

Japanese Tea Ceremony

Tea leaf powder brewed
Token stream of tea devolves
Cyclye of life flows
Reincarnated grains bind
Nouveau palates sift huskings

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