Frequent surfacing in night club
And the Lion sprouts from a cub
Soon, you cease to be submissive:
Life begins to be permissive.
With others you may shoulders rub
Sometimes, sincere courtesies snub.
A used-to-be-meek aggressive,
At inconstancy progressive....
In night clubs be sure of hubbub,
The filthiest thoughts served perfumed dub
Yet, life here should be extensive;
Clubs heal could The Hypertensive:
Others are asleep you are awake
And, for the fun of it, sometimes rake.
Categories:
inconstancy, celebration, conflict, confusion, humanity,
Form: Rhyme
Who can resist the strangulating grip of time?
That which exists today may not be there tomorrow
Like shooting stars which vanish in the flicker of an eye
Life comes and goes quicker than a darting arrow
The only constant in life is its inconstancy
With time, even our existence turns a myth
As every sunrise follows a sundown,
Each birth leads to an eventual death
In the fluidity of time, we are in a state of flux
So don’t obdurately hold anything in your arms
Instead loosen your grip and let things go
With the ease of water through your open palms
Every lovely flower that blossoms once
Fades in time and eventually turns to brown
Even a leaf that clings tenaciously to the tree
When autumn blasts strike, falls down
Impermanence being in the grand design of things
To nothing in this world, one can permanently cling
So, willingly give way to herald in the new,
As autumn leaves cannot be laundered for the spring!
Feb.22.2023
~ Placed Second~
Inspired by Robert Frost’s ‘Nothing Gold can Stay’
Poetry Contest
Sponsor JCB. Brul
Categories:
inconstancy, change, death, truth,
Form: Rhyme
Quick tornado in July
Where stardom shatters
Guide us as a guest
We grumble in the heat
Sprinkle droplets before they fly
Any brilliant visitor will be delighted
Regardless, it currently triumphs flawlessly
We appear as the ones who are solving
Have you grown tired of inconstancy?
Then, there is what lies ahead of us in reality
The wind is blowing hard
Categories:
inconstancy, analogy, storm,
Form: Free verse
Accuse me lies confusions of no use
For history there is a term broken
And reasoning wit through words I abuse
Decreasing thy trust as painful token.
Or tell faults sorts my inconstancy born
That precious minutes with this I dost waste
Breaking vows to thee I shakily sworn
Depriving love's full thou deserve to taste.
Speak to me like thou feel none but regrets
For all idle hours to myself I blame
Question me of things composing my breath
So thou canst feel that I am still the same.
I love you so much behind all past lies
Now more than ever that will never die.
Categories:
inconstancy, hate, lost love, love,
Form: Sonnet
Restoring the lost me
To replenish the exhausted zest.
To learn to fall off a crest,
Looking up again, with a heart in my chest.
Reviving reliving
the vivid memories ,when the feet were tiny,
full of grace
full of pace.
Holding on to memories,
nostalgia circling me,
i began to walk ,
a tumultuous trip.
Holding on to my hues,
alas, I traversed through.
Timidly trailing time,
hoping to meet at cross roads,
a rendezvous.
Leading to a place,
with destiny powering my craze
i began to gaze
but saw a place devoid of grace
Everything perishing with pace
Battling inconstancy was no easy maze.
Remaining was me,
amongst the debris
Ceasing to restitute the lost me.
Categories:
inconstancy, absence,
Form: Free verse
DEBUSSY – AFTERNOON OF A FAWN
On the summer meadow
A creature so beautiful
Blending with nature’s wild inconstancy
In the quiet he can sense a kind of distant music
And, balancing on shaky legs, head cocked,
Listens
What heard?
What seen?
It is creation’s natural caesura
A rest even nature must take
Needing no thought, no struggle
Witness without witness
This all but in a charmed moment
When, with a sniff, and in a rapture of
playfulness.
He bounds off
To mingle with afternoon’s bountiful spread
Young
Free aware
Dave Austin
Categories:
inconstancy, animal,
Form: Free verse
I spent the morning retching
out black bile, fear,
insecurity lining the walls of
thought, a constriction within
the cage of failure,
purged with tears,
and I cried for freedom,
cried for my inconstancy
with convention,
and realized life irrelevant
as the yowl of a clown,
the scream of a banshee born
in the mind of man,
my own words nothing
but blood in my hands,
life dripping from the tongue,
adolescent,
hurting, hurting, hurting,
I've stepped on the spike of
purpose,
impaled my hands and feet
with the stigmata of truth:
I'd die and be sacrificed for art
and voice,
shaking from the stab
of my own pen,
and happy in my suicide...
Categories:
inconstancy, introspection,
Form: Free verse
Subconcious streams flitter through my silty porthole
Ebb and flow through my consciences' filtering scroll
Clogging the interstices and my formative, fragile mind doth control
Perceptions of self flood my sensory console
Pent-up desires breach mind's, shallow levee and over carefree banks roll
Carnal instincts bleach and, over time, corrode my chaste compass's steady pole
My soul's rudder listlessly through the choppy waters doth stroll
Delusions of grandeur and trite fantasies o'er my wayward ship troll
Teetering sails are blown about by truant winds so droll
Faulty navigation beaches my tattered psche on a barren shoal
Battered by the waves of inconstancy paying a penitent toll
Tunneling through the brackish bilge; a frenetic mole
Seeking to escape frollicking tidal waves that my froward, youthful mind did cajole
Sifting through the rancid seaweed that years of cresting tides did dole
Cloaked with guilt, shame stranded on a rocky, desolate atoll
Still vainly trying to justify my hopeless condition; my fleeting worth extoll
Categories:
inconstancy, depression, introspection, life
Form: Rhyme
In loves harbor moored in the dock of regression
and anchored in the quicksand of incontinence
as briny waves of inconstancy wash over my jaded bough
scouring my white-washed deck over and over
leaving the silty residue of bartered romances
tarnishing the fibers of my brigand hull
peeling back the glossy facade that coated my proud vessel
the drift wood of jilted lovers floats all around
shrouding my leased yacht with the residual chaff
of once fertile fronds that bloomed with romance
then were blighted by the cankering disease of insincerity
tides bring in the brackish seaweed of of salty flings
that never rooted my wandering eye or planted my wavering feet
which were tossed to and fro by a truant wind
constantly moving in a listless, uncharted direction
bandied about by the restless currents of change
barges of opprobrium clamor about in my choppy waters
tugging at my corroded conscience pushing the dross
of my intemperate, impulsive dalliances into my feckless psyche
Categories:
inconstancy, lost love, social
Form: Free verse
Feelings of despair dredged from the murky dephths of my past
Hoisted through my corroded conscience's porthole
Reconnoitering barge of restitution pushes despondent thoughts through my inner being
Then tows the shame and guilt of my depraved condition to mind's hatch
The murky dross of yesterday's sins seeps deep into my addled psche
The residual guilt oppresses my soul
The brackish bilge of cankerous jealousies trolls through my grieving spirit
My trembling hands grasp the anchor of remorse but slip into the deeper moor of penance
Earlier missteps have my struggling feet sinking ever deeper in the quicksand of hopelessness
The smokestack spews nautious fumes from the froward deeds of my virile youth
My shaky rudder teeters as the raw sewage of past debauchery overwhelms my senses
Sailing my sinking yacht to the edge of sanity and rational existence
Carried along by the unsettling currents of inconstancy and vacillation
Docking in the harbor of reclamation and recompense
Categories:
inconstancy, allegory, depression,
Form: Free verse
Diplomacy of inconstancy
unmeets the urgency. Aura
of brilliance was falling in your feet.
After the death, it was not a name,
only a frozen body.We moved backward
swiftly, to find out the footprints in dark.
Winter was becoming harsh and
less meaningful. A weak muscle brokers
a peace for dewdrops on rose petals.
I become an earlier story, failed.
Pick up the moon rocks
and start throwing them at sun.
Satish Verma
Categories:
inconstancy, adventure, allegory, angst, animals,
Form: I do not know?