Erosive Poems

Strength Does Not Always Roar

Fragility is quite a strength
just as the crucial bumblebees’ breath
Perhaps not only titularly
gentleness is stronger than severity . . .

Channeling Emily Dickinson : To be a feather in a holocaust
– hope, sewn in the soul, sings the song needed most

A minor thought on regeneration : To regrow the leg the mantis lost
– a marvel on a molecular level - most miraculous

Of majestic beauty : To behold the fragile snowflake - winter’s impetus
– intricate masterpieces exist in the microscopic and minutest

Plant power is undisputed : To reap lemongrass’ healing gifts
– behold a beloved botanical treasure of abundant benefits

Quantity trumps quality when better suited : To cut out the mountains through erosive agency
– water as a weatherer works wondrously

Sources of energy : From the brilliant and prodigious mitochondrion - a natural wonder
to the multifaceted palm frond - suitable as tinder

It can certainly be said that, in the slight
one can perceive preternatural might
So, as the Scots say, “while we breathe we hope”
and our delicate operatives firmly stay a-float

The Truth Rolls On

A ceaseless exhibition that stings,
Amongst matchless marvels on world screens,
A pleuritic pain to my soft breath it brings,
Subtle slight pulses caught in baleful scenes.

A blooming rushed pseudo sketch,
Like a snap in harsh lights at a clumsy stretch,
False fury flows through spectators’ veins,
With replays, the cloud of claims still rains.

The loud, jarring noise engulfs the lone truth in flight,
The sleeping streets stir at looming blight,
An unfairly tale, in ink it seals—
An art too stubborn for truth to repeal.

Whether the clear lines finally chime,
The intense stormy atmosphere claims the rhyme,
An erosive strong wind whirls the hail falls,
But a wonderful nature it remains, bravely it rolls. 

Volcanic Eruption

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volatile erasure
vehement evasion

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erosive volume
evasive venom

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Circumbobulation

Eractive verses
dissolve in
circumvented
waves of
irreal words
& surreal swords
(mill for the grist)

Versating ellisions
mutate in
discombobulated
wordclouds of
maloverted lords
& diverted hordes
     
Egestive extremism
emerges from
specious endgames
& epic sadism
   
Mismusing holists
grope for hope
within mischievous holes
& eternal sloth

Blobified circumstances
cavort with
aversive erasures
ensuring elusive endings
& erosive circumbobulation
(grist for the thrill)

Grand Canyon

Travelling along the time-carved corridor of life
I filled the brimming bucket with buds of wishes,
some withered, didn’t descry the dawn of the day,
some bloomed, pleased me with beguiling flowers.

One such fulfilled wishes was the journey I made
to the Grand Canyon, incised deep in ancient rocks,
exposing the geological record of two billion years,
I was keen to see for so many years as a geologist.

Looking down the hanging skywalk at the Eagle Point
I saw the calm Colorado river meander in gentle course,
belying its strong erosive power of incision of the past
that made the channel chisel the canyon in the valley.

As the sun began to set beyond the barren plateau,
its last rays draped the curved contours with crimson hue.
The grand spectacle of surreal grandeur unveiled to me
layer by layer the imprint of eons on the petrified history.

December 4, 2020
Contest : What Have You Kicked Off On Your Bucket List
Sponsor : Chantelle Anne Cooke

Nigeria the Sleeping Giant

Wake up Nigeria whilst it is still day.
Your darkness thickens in the hot summer sun.
Wake up Nigeria from your spectators' fun.
Like a titan to the slaughter, your way
to financial hades might be certain.
Awake, or your future is uncertain.
Your teeming youth population languish
in persistent erosive social crimes.
Awake Nigeria from pain and anguish.
Your tragedies exceed your countless births.
Awake Nigeria, for these many deaths
reveal a corrupt weakened armed forces.
Awake Nigeria from your great slumber.
Your rank in the black world has been usurped.
Awake Nigeria, reclaim your number
one position by treading those courses
once trod, and never again to be stopped.
Awake Nigeria and discern the times.
Cease for good to be black gold dependent.

Elementally

Grounded are the feet that be in the elemental earth
Bounded we the legs that keep the motion of walks
Rounded is the dirt beneath as the pressure begins to mound
Founded the discovery to uncover knowledgeable talks 

Sculpting melding seeping 
The soil underground flowing heated molten
Melting shaping morphing 
Formation created solid black rock ground

Steamy is the water of the magmatic oceans deep
Risen layers pillow topped stacked slowly in the chill 
Solidifying new earthen life pushed through to a crusted rebuild
Slowly in the unseen depths where land is consuming sea

Wisps of wind waves whistle with gaseous fumes
Lofting liquid red as golden orange fissures spread bloody fires
Inches measured by millimeters mold metals magical blaze
Wild widening of gaps shallowly engraved a blackened glaze

Obsidian wasteland of a treacherous expanse gathered island life
Reflective surfaces weathered time breaking down rock to sand
Erosive washing of corrosive materials gritty consumed by forces of nature
Natural is the condensing of observatory images in the fluid eyes of man



Inspired by 'It's Elemental' By Carole Duet

Life Waiting To Burst

Call me worthless, call me a failure

Tell me I'm good for next to nothing 

Say it how I see already

I know my hopes are inevitably filled with agony

For in my heart which I keep locked up

I know the truth will soon speak up

A mind is like an unstable explosive 

Light the fuse and see it's erosive 

Though some may be delayed 

Kicked aside beneath the bay

Eventually it will find a shore 

Ticking slowly till it's found someone willing to explore

While the brain is slow to wind

Someday we accept the good we find

As the chains which close the crate

The bomb inside deserving fate

Open up and peek inside

Expand your life, and enjoy the ride

Rusticated

The day life was given to a boy.
His eyes had been enveloped over the skyline.
Small boy, large hope, small boy, large home.
Before he had a chance to flourish,
He had been given a different purpose.
Nervous with courage to cherish.
He had been moved to another accommodation.
Rusticated to a new isolation.
Stationed upon different temptations.
Where he had no identification, but all surprises.
While in a stationary motive.
His mind became erosive.
Devoted to death, coated with no emotive.
He became an addict through rusticating.
The quiet and silence of his mind dictating.
His mind refused to fixate.
In the end he was a boy with no choice.
Rusticate to oblivion, a bowl of mistrust.
Until you drop dead into earth’s crust.
We all must move on without fuss.
Travel back to the boy’s first home, in tune.
Recovering the move, collecting his runes.

Come and Find Me In My Solitude

My soul is dusted dry the well is bare
No more tears but the pain still there
Secluded solitudes in my own abyss
Frozen fantasies of the love I miss

In sacred silences standing still
Dancing demons devouring will
In vastness voids a soul is crying
Erosive echo’s of life’s denying

Fractiously falling inside forever
Lonely landscapes of the nefarious never
Come and find me in my solitude
Where anguish roams and love subdued.


Dec.02.2016
COME AND FIND ME IN MY SOLITUDE - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mystic Rose

Bacon Sandwich Carnage Coming

If I a bare fisted foot that a layered leaf once left undisturbed but amongst the rising becomes a glow and fortress is a finger roll and rolling is a non adventurous activity in a nine metre road. But no roadworks. They are mainly dependent upon corrosive erosive sealant. And many a glance or glare from a twisted turtle head could almost be forgiven for a sub consciousness riot is often a forefront in a non moving pawn game. Stagnant are those who watch am eclipse upside down. I am a Heidelberg Heifetz herlump but maybe a justification of heuristic heiferlump. I am unsure as to which prison I am currently visiting but working us waiting and waiting is a turbulent torrent of a torrid display. Merely an astronaut could fly this path. Really? Really? An opulent society is a dug grave waiting. No ha to that. But a bursting angle is an angled angel angling. Ha to that. Now spin. Yes. Spin. Horticultural herrod bar. Hum...hmmm.

Of Saints and Sinners

Of Saints And Sinners

Within the sacrificial selfless silence
The seditious spirit stands in defiance
With salient scars of eternal echoes
Amongst the meditating melodious meadows

Sinister sins compound in complexity
Where demon deeds are devoured devilishly
Macabre masters of the medieval mind
Disengaged discipline of the consciously confined

The saint and sinner must coherently co-exist
One restrains of thoughts the other can not resist
Erosive entombment in the somatic solitudes
As both struggle within the manqué multitudes.


Oct.28.2016
Saints and Sinners - Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One

Your Love Is Corrosive

Your love is corrosive
Caustic
Eating away at my sense of worth
Scathing
Your words
More so your silence
Burning away 
The tender fibers of my heart
And I smile
As I’m being eaten alive...

Vitriolic embraces
Scorching simply because
They are too brief
Too perfunctory

Erosive kisses
Eroding my passion
With their simple pecks mockery
Instead of intercourse of lips and tongue

Acerbic love making
The smell of my burning flesh
Lingering after the brief encounter
Of two bodies devoid of souls

I’m being reduced to nothing
Acrid tears burn down my cheeks
In the destructive light
Of your “love”

Eileen Manassian Ghali

Poetry

Poetry_po e try_cadence like the lapping of the sea against the shore 
                                    A soft lapping which can become erosive in a time of storm

Poetry's beauty can bless 
                                      Feeding the spirit with joy
The gentle lapping lifting the soul to euphoric heights

Poetry can cut deep reaching to the core of the spirit

Dissecting every ill, malady of humankind
                                     Leaving the reader wondering?

Did the poet know my deepest thoughts?

God's poetry can cleanse and make whole
                                         If only one would
            Invite His cleansing power into their soul 

Mountain Battle Scars

war rages upon buttes
nature's elements lash out
against lofty peaks

frigid winds and rain
slowly carve out gaping wounds
indiscernibly

deeply scarred faces
erosive testimony
of battered bodies

Tanya Harrington  ©  07-03-2012
For Mountain Haiku Contest

• Short Erosive Poems
• Famous Erosive Poems
• Best Erosive Poems
• Read Erosive Poems
• Long Erosive Poems
• Erosive Quotes