A Soul besmirched of its might;
Pummeled into the abyss,
A disconsolate plight;
Left with void, with butchered bliss,
Ostracized, by its own allies;
For now their fidelity surely dallies;
Oh! The revered one, what lures me behind
Show me the path, I shall grind
Forbade my blasphemous thoughts,
Reverberate my echo, to a thousand knots!
Once a connoisseur, with grandeur and glory
Now, an abdicator with a story
I that possible.? Here on poetry soup.'
A stance on being analytical.? A pre-
Disposition..To give others space.' Its
My offering in respect..Well of respect as
Far as it goes.' We are none perfect.' Yet
Can we be approachable.' Ready to share
Information, time..If we have enough.? I
Am willing to learn..I have learned so much
By observing ' those who considered themselves always right.' I learned to be
Like that in the past, yet have managed to face those
Episodes and am now in the mindframe of
Learning by not repeating.? I guess first off
The attitude of superiority ' paul of tarsus ' was like it.' There are many corrosive attitudes learned from the world.' Can i or
Whoever correct them all.? Maybe; some
Can.? Yet i consider if i or you? Or they? Can alter one fault.' Its a great start on a new road to a better destination..Just my
Thoughts this evening in a damp disconsolate Britain, all blessings to all that may read these lines.)
Distanced I Dis connect
Disconsolate enuii
I flick the screen alive
strangers flood my space
they disparage what I use
push their disposable trash
I dismiss the ploys they use
their flashing light displays
the blur of too much choice
disturbed by airbrushed smiles
all those disjointed claims
I distrust their AI games
disquietened by false charm
my silence disconcerts
so they offer me a deal-
who needs a talking broom
disgruntled and dismayed
to have them in my house
distracted by their noise
and always fake discounts
their loud discordant gush.
Desultory winds
chimera in throes of doubt
effusive, disconsolate
-clanging in hills stout-
Ductile mind bends sound.
virtuoso of the void—
sweet, zoetic, browned
Breathless,
words like cordyceps adhere to my throat,
Choking me as the unspoken wrap around, seizing vocal cords.
Sticking fingers down, I claw to clear closing airways,
Yet the more I struggle, the more entwined they become.
Disconsolate spores have taken root within heaving lungs,
Spreading to each chamber of the heart, systematically.
Transported through streams of hemoglobin,
Swiftly infecting Broca's area before moving to the primary motor cortex—
As all speech ceases to be.
ghosts …
of Christmases past
wander through this disconsolate house
weary but hearty hearts that once
thrummed, eager and one
their echoes …
soft-whispering me of what’s
imperfectly precious
then …
and now.
Disconsolate obsidian waves crash over crumbling dunes,
Sweeping afflicted grains of sand back into the depths,
Dragging my paralysed soul with them.
Engulfed in despondent riptides,
I gasp for oxygen amongst rippling currents,
As a fiery moon hangs precariously overhead.
Blood-red reflections illuminate the stark waters,
While calls of the lost sing to me,
Like sirens beckoning sailors to their doom—
Louder and louder, until it becomes unbearable.
Flaring arms fill with cortisol,
Burning, tangled within suffocating seaweed.
Farther I get pulled from the shore;
The horizon is growing fainter now with every somber beat of my heart.
Isolation shrouds the thickening atmosphere.
Saline leaks into my mouth, drying my tongue as I frantically spit it out.
Hysterical laughter escapes through lips without realisation.
Dehydration overcomes.
Sanity slips with each sip of water.
My larynx sharply tightens—
Barely a noise can be uttered.
Yet the siren calls of the irretrievable continue to crescendo,
Pulling me into an empty expanse, everlastingly.
unsettling waves
farewell... to his monument
disconsolate... shards
The affection of my mother,
a solemn silence of apathy and burning,
the affection that assisted my inevitable yearning,
yearning for fondness, empathy, passion and love,
a cemented wish from the fumes above,
the fumes which escaped from my annual candle,
the vehemence too disconsolate for a young girl to handle,
the solemn silence remains a verifiable memory,
embossed into my soul as if an accessory,
the annual candle, the wish aforementioned,
the yearning, the exigency for a mothers affection.
In the vast theatre of our souls;
Where your feelings play their roles.
Emotions dance in an endless array;
A symphony of colours, day and night.
JOY, unveils its majestically magnificent and mesmerizing wings;
Like the mother thrush, it sweetly sings.
It lifts us past the nine clouds;
In jubilant moments, when wrapped in merry shrouds.
Yet, SADness has its own grace;
a defected gust, a disconsolate embrace.
In sooth, it cleanses wounds, that time has weaved;
From tears, new strength is perceived.
ANGER, displayed as a fiery might;
The tempest fierce, a deadly plight.
For sooth anger drives us on
'Tis' the solution, when hope is gone
Love, is not an emotion but art;
A pure bond of trust, heart-to-heart.
A force even the almighty can't destroy;
A glamorous job, a man could employ.
So, I ask thou embrace these feelings, pure;
Through ebbs and tides, we will endure
Chained to this fear inside
Feeling like I have truly died
Crying, lying next to your stone
Sighing, trying to let go all alone
This chamber of loneliness inside me
Is making me feel so lonely and anxious
This chamber of loneliness inside me
Is forsaking my lonely soul and I’m delirious
This chamber of loneliness inside me
Won’t let me be free from captivity
This chamber of loneliness inside me
Won’t let me be free from calamity
From this disconsolate liberty…
When will I be free from fear?
When will I no longer shed this tear?
Letting go I know, allowing guiltless glory to set me free
Getting rid of sorrow, grieving no more thankfully
We first met when I was young.
Curious, expectant, open-minded
We explored each other freely,
Communing face to face
Sharing everything
Seeking each other's company, together
Under the open sky.
Middle aged we met again.
Striving, over-reaching, exploitative
We looked to our own advantage.
Stormy clouds gathering
On the horizon,
Presaging dangerous times ahead of us
Under the threat'ning sky.
Now I am older I see her
Dull-eyed, disconsolate, all too aware
Of what we were and have become.
Her cycle confused,
Stripped bare, ripped apart
Craving to be isolate, for solitude
Under the darkened sky.
She will still be there when I go.
Forgotten, unrecognised, unaware
Of what we once had and had lost.
Her nature restored,
Newly clothed, new born
Thriving in her renewed joy in life
Under the spring sun sky.
To all the lonely people out there feeling deserted,
to those whose joys were cut short,
to the unloved, unsought, unknown.
to those who wait in vain for love,
longing for relief from their pains,
to those who had to walk alone
on these dreary paths of life,
to the castaways, reviled and shamed by men,
to those judged and misjudged,
unable to voice the conscience's truth,
to you never given a second chance,
to all accused with no guilts and those admitting wrongs
now banished and abandoned to die,
to those whose friends are now accusers,
and those from whom family withdraws,
to you whose friends have become foes,
and relatives have turned into strangers,
treading the lonely path without a happy wish,
To you I say,
quit your inner pain,
come to the banquet of friends alike with love,
for we are many so despised,
It is but a phase,
a passing phase in time,
leave em all to time,
who dresses all aright.
`
Under the chords of "white swan",
the disconsolate sailor cries,
copious tears of salt...!
The zealously guarded
Verdant pasture of
The city club
Attract like filings
To a magnet
A herd of undernourished
Hungry city buffaloes
Just as their slavering lips
Pull at the first mouthfuls
Of succulent green grass
The watchman and his
Trio of pie dogs
Barking in token defiance
Arrive hotfoot on the scene
Disconsolate the buffaloes
Gray shapes in the evening gloom
Wend their way out
Pausing to half heartedly
Pick up strewn paper
Throwing wistful backward
Glances at the sweet grass.
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