Once foretelling portents swam within the
Apogee bath.
Torn wounds in flesh,
unequip the afflicted. Lack.
Unilaterality Undesirables systematically
inspect an overture unto the future.
Incisions.
Indecision.
Discussions.
Decision.
Resolution Found between
Thigh
and
Breast Fat.
We spoke on the old West.
Distain allowed to follow
in
shadows' shoes.
Walk-
from the gravestone tomb,
Talk-
from the cemetery plot.
prefer amnesia, anesthesia, or euthanasia,
the lot.
Apposed to this undying pain,
grief,
return of
disbelief.
A contrite
Sorry resentment
Sodden in maple
Solidity.
Solidarity pushed well past
comprise while
the unconvinced so
remained that,
a sacerdotal yet
antidotal dissenter.
Go on.
Permission to let Pessimism steep in dark tea leaves.
Reverse dove beneath the San Fernando crust.
Am reading 1776 right now which
is affecting my poetry output.
enter dead of winter
was death to each dissenter
groups which would splinter
combat they would meet
defeat followed each defeat
God the dead did greet
from fires be freed
along with growing wild weed
God should take the lead
(Caused Chaos to Lake Meade.)
about cynical
those who are tyrannical
of hope pinnacle
when we want a perk
on another book will work
in my mind does lurk
Never Think, Why Me Lord?
Written: by Miracle Man
4/13/2020
I couldn’t enjoy springtime days without enduring winter,
And in my life, for sure, I’ve had some bad days fall.
But I questioned not why, nor did I become a dissenter,
For I accepted as fact, that God had a reason for it all.
standing before
me more a sink
hole or an
orifice of
sorts
reportedly to be
tightly deep
that was
what
i
came for more
then explore
but to but
heads
with
that which was
said to be a
new door
toward
a
natural expression
of a depression
of one that one
might want
again and
more so dropping
a plum line of
weight so
waiting
to tell
how deep was this
well while sweat
beading my
forehead
said
though tight to fit
it was well
worth the
worth of
this
and so slowly entered
descending as a
dissenter as
pleasure
was
after all
what i was
uncovering what
i always wanted to
do to love and discover
Dissenter In Cold Winter
They were dissatisfied becoming a dissenter,
When in hot summer, storm and cold winter,
And also felt,
Morning melt;
Then off into other parts started to splinter.
James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran
Bolivia, NC
Acidic Tongues Said, Stone Her
Written: by Miracle Man
6/11/2018
It’s easy to stand on the fringes and complain,
While vehemently objecting to another’s view;
A dissenter casting stones at things of disdain,
Destroys no quicker than our acidic tongues do;
“Let him who is without sin cast the first stone;”
John 8:7
Acidic Tongues
Written: by Tom Wright
6/11/2018
It’s easy to stand on the fringes and complain,
While vehemently objecting to another’s view;
A dissenter casting stones at things of disdain,
Destroys no quicker than our acidic tongues do;
“Let him who is without sin cast the first stone;”
John 8:7
Love, now
With the end nearing
Of this dated form
Called mine,
You increase! (Your blessed
Virus taking firmer hold);
Ah! If all the countless
Ails of this world were
So dear…and the many
Abrasions so warmly salved
As by Your gracing,
Then would the naysayer
(Dissenter from God and faith)
Say, You, Love, are greater,
And, apparently, greater still
Even in death—
But, alas, one cannot tell
Such an intimate as ours
Divine; for such intimacy
Is impossible by design
And to the doubtful
Without his or her hand
In the wound
One cannot begin
To define…
It moves me,
soothes me,
cuts to the core
and pierces
right through me.
Prison of wood.
Bars of strings.
Captured notes.
The canary sings.
Broken hearts burned to ash.
Melodic nuclear winter.
Injustice causing retort.
Revolution's chief dissenter.
Weaver of composers basket
to carry heart's message.
Ballad of a howling wind
mourning a loved one's passage.
Light burst of a sun cloud.
The note of depression's end.
Version audio, a springtime flower.
New life and courage to lend.
Dancing light on the water.
Cheerful bird in flight.
Rising as the morning sun.
Shooting star across the night.
The music flows and bends.
Following the player's will.
Causing my breath to catch.
Making my heart lay still.
Some chords speak of romance.
Others mourn and cry.
Those that delight at dance.
Symphony carried on a high.
Who knew a simple piece of timber
could share something so human?
May the artists' fingers stay limber,
and express all that they can.
-Angel Fatale-
Came To Me In Church
Was sitting in pew and started to search
For another poem while I was in church
And then guess what this one did appear
So I started to write it down right here.
Trump's soul we should try to forgive
For lavish way he always likes to live
And comments and criticisms he made
Not perfectly planned or ever well laid.
Many mistakes made and stories told
For benefit of himself had been bold
Attention desiring to be in the center
And we did become his big dissenter.
Suppose he wanted to make us think
In life can always be some kind of kink
God surely sees all errors in our ways
Forgives sins when we offer Him praise.
James Serious Mysterious Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
Hall Of Shame
Why would some Denizens
annihilate their own citizens
And, build their dirty Name
with bones of Amputee lame;
Using Gas and using Gun
to wipe man under the Sun
Boots and chains of defences
grinding to pulp all senses,
By Force, Loyalty to extract
and the Dissenter to subtract
So that fear of retribution
stops positive contribution,
This dastardly Hall of Shame
must not all revile the Name,
As Humanity needs protection
not this wanton subtraction?!
It is coming home to me now
Bird across the evening sky
Up and down the wings do plow
Turn events like soil to the eye
It wasn't so I dream you to be
White jasmines pictures my bride
And nightingale melody
Soft breaking at her fragrant side
And around the house a garden
Where we laugh, converse or play
I the beast and you maiden
The sweet atmosphere of kind day
What ugly dissenter fooled you
To blame in falsehood the thing
Though a plot, you never knew
While before your time it would spring
I did not plant it there, my friend
A mirage tree they designed
And now broken none can mend
The hot tongue has seared the mind
So one more time you fly again
I keep the empty nest till dawn
Love's intent is only pain
A cross-haired stag mourns a live fawn
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.