It seems
At least to me
That…..they
Are always there
Hidden in those instants
Wherein I lose my focus
Drift into “un-thinking”
Move without my own consent
Call ‘em what you will
Imps, trolls, the Billy goats Gruff
A synaptic surfer
Washed ashore
Popcorn scattered on the beach
Pursued by satiations seagulls
An off-key note
Sabotaging a symphony
A keyboard cannibal
Consuming all thought
Hunting in the alphabetic jungle
Of scrambled words
I have cursed them and cajoled them
All to no avail
An effort less successful
Than a dog chasing its tail
Time in ebony night stops to flow in aloneness undefined,
where infinite pathos in the congealed instants wanders
on the shadows of the past, void perception in seclusion,
gets shaped by strata of darkness, framed in psychic canvas.
The dispersed grains of darkness drizzle down silently
from the cauldron of the infinite blankness of eternity
that my sky starts to shape at the edge of ductile dusk
since the beginning of my time lost in the crypt of isolation.
The silken tapestry of the black blanket spreads slowly
as the twilight dissolves at the hinge of the hazy horizon
like the timed rainbow melting upon the sinking skyline,
where the silhouette darkness dances with the flowing night.
Sonorous sound of silence echoing ethereally in night sky
wakes up the sleeping stars one by one to sparkle bright
on the bejeweled crown the amorous ambiance adorns,
as the moonbeam strands weave dulcet dream of you for me.
Each stardust-sequined silent night I wait awake alone
for you to emerge lively out of my dream like an angel,
walk through the pining corridor of my craving mind,
as I let my thoughts drift in the emptiness of night’s silence.
Though I’ve always known that the light of the past was something
recognized, it’s only now I see
that the light of the past is the light of dreams: the light
in which things happen forever, where every laugh
retains the dew of a universe caught at dawn,
where the pride of the wounded heart renews its song
in an endless bloom of instants, and where the loves
we knew then inexhaustibly still live.
-------------------------------------------------
Puisque je dois te retrouver
dans des endroits isolés
je te verrai là-bas
Puisque je dois mentir
quelques instants avec toi
alors je dois juste mentir
car si je ne peux pas aller jusqu'au bout, ma belle
j'ai l'impression que je vais me demander pourquoi
j'ai besoin de toi
près de moi
j'ai besoin de toi
,Puisque je dois me faufiler
pour être avec toi
voilà ce que je ferai, chérie
Puisque je dois te retrouver
dans des endroits isolés
je te verrai là-bas
Puisque je dois mentir
quelques instants avec toi
alors je dois juste mentir
car si je ne peux pas aller jusqu'au bout, ma belle
j'ai l'impression que je vais me demander pourquoi
j'ai besoin de toi
près de moi
j'ai besoin de toi, ma belle
ça fait si longtemps
ah-ah----ah--ah oh, ooh oo!
__________________________________________________
she and her husband had problems
while he went away working
she began seeing a guy
she wasn't serious about leaving her husband
"a fling thing you know"
the guy fell deep in love
so much he wrote this song for her
____________________________________________________
The sands of entropy in chaotic times,
settle on the shelf of the disorganized life.
In moments wafting with the dispersed dust,
the truth of belief in turmoil oscillates
in the ruffling surge of mayhem.
In the efflux of errant disarray,
everything changes in nonplussed instants.
The mystifying alchemy of metamorphosis
reveals the real façade of intuition,
reflectively masked.
In the squall of divesting consternation,
the disheveled mind in a state of confusion
splinters the leitmotif of emotions.
The confounded cascade of disquiet
drifts them to the misty oblivion.
Yet, when the palace of sands
on the shore of yearning tumbles down,
the psychic waves of feelings
break with the tune of fading ecstasy,
composing the music for the memory,
partly cloudy.
Ichi Katauta: “First Value: Love of Closure”
harlequin stage, left
vibrance peels a tapestry
the wilted absolved its grounds
Ni Katauta: “Second Value: Love of Survival”
squirrels store the scavenged
empty nests v-shapes southward
healthy surrenders the weak
Sedokada: “Sixth Evaluation: Love of Perpetuity"
bunnies graced the moles
foxes leap at the snowbound
bears, closeted in caverns
finesse touch canvassed
barren wastelands abiding
instants of sunlight’s promise
Fulcrum of a Rose
A lambent sight, my morning star,
sweet essence on my tongue.
A mem'ry stirred—those bygone days,
a secret love so young.
That lambent sight, my nostrils seared,
trust wrought of hope and fear.
She loves me so, she loves me not—
I beg I pray, my dear.
I wonder whence this essence comes—
I close my eyes, breathe deep.
From time and space. A higher realm.
A tunnel one-way steep.
One velvet scale, droplets of dawn
falls—spirit rent in two,
Another pluck, my fingers twitch—
mere instants born anew.
I fear to count how many drop—
worse, how many remain.
That smell so sweet, now on the floor,
unraveled till insane.
Red petals, damn filthy petals!
Your right to choose, I do revoke!
I swear it on her name.
How do you fight when the battle is within you, and every attempt seems doomed to fail,
When you thought you were strong, but now you see you're caught in the web of doubt,
A stranger in your own skin, searching for a self that once seemed so certain,
I try to rise, but I fall again, chasing pieces of myself that have disappeared.
Once I was confident, but now I'm full of uncertainty,
Wondering if I'll ever find that part of me I'm searching for,
A labyrinth of intertwined thoughts, where the echoes of doubts constantly resonate,
Like a river flowing endlessly, taking me on unknown paths of the soul.
Every step is a battle with shadows, a search for the light hidden deep within,
When the heart remembers the times when faith was simple and clear,
Now, lost in a thick fog, I seek the fulcrum to find myself again,
In a world that changes incessantly, like a dream from which I cannot wake.
I gather strength from memories, from moments of courage and instants of peace,
From the brilliance of a clear morning when the sun warmed my soul,
And I try to remember who I truly am, beyond doubts and fears,
For deep in my heart, I know my true power awaits to be rediscovered.
Our Lost Eternity
by Lord R.e. Taylor
When we are young
Time really means nothing
We have an eternity before us
And so much life left to live
Sadly, the years fly by
And the eternity begins to fade
Our remaining time passes too quickly
Just as if in the blink of an eye
We no longer have enough time
So, we do our best
Cramming years into mere instants
But always know that you lived well
And no matter how fast we lost eternity
There will be those left behind
And we will be remembered and loved
© Poem XXI/III/MMXXV
LRET
Arid grains
of heart
instants unseized
on time
slipping
the hourglass
unaged by life
as time
cradled on earth
brown lap
by media winds
of day
not digging
its oil wealth
to set its heart
on fire
sprouting
songs and flowers
robins and blue sky
a springtime
of love delight
for hearts
and butterflies
added one by one
arid grains
of sand
a boat without
a sail
a soul without
a friend
but then the night
surprise
without
a cloud in sight
the desert sky
lights up
with moon
and million stars
a ring of pearl
and diamonds
a memory
bright and cold
of distant love
inviting
silent
heart of sand
to live
and love again.
First Place Winner: Brian Strand-Only March 2026-3/9
In an instant, life can change,
Things get weird, and paths feel strange.
A spark, a flash, it all can shift,
And suddenly, you're set adrift.
A word, a hug, a simple smile,
Can make you happy for a while.
One small thing can change the game,
And nothing ever stays the same.
A storm might come, the skies might roar,
But calm can come again once more.
Even when things seem scary or strange,
In the end, it’s just a change.
In an instant, life moves fast,
The moments come, they never last.
So live it all, no day’s the same—
Life is wild, like a burning flame.
Ephemeral eternity — covers osmosis pinnacles
In a loving natural roots, nostalgia never fails
Welcomed. . .we wander — and cry
It slinks slackly not dwelling in the gloom. . .
Gestalt therapy in sepia tones offers an odd view,
Instant mete hourglass, scythe, magic mind wing
Proper, shining ruined glass before filters and pixels,
Cracks reveal truth, and hazy images evoke memory;
Digitally altered shots provide unadorned faces,
Silver stones — crumble under soggy streams
Love consists of endless childhood dreams,
We whirl, win, wildly in a whirlwind
Instants creep slowly — yielding assets to discard
Time lingers while instances ripple vastly.
It unfolds and emits a sticky—spirited symphony
Transitional winds blew as we breathed and linked
Instants ticked slowly but rose quickly.
Glide into golden heat of the calm night hour
Ashes rise on a summer's sigh in the breezy sky
Soaring over the willows, peacefully fly.
time stops to slip in ebony night,
emotive clock freezes
eternal pathos in congealed instants,
silhouetted in the shadow of past,
smears the strata of darkness,
designed to disguise perception lattice
summer red sunsets
faded with the blue ocean
hug a starry night
above dark waters
the stars' optimal moment
attract watching eyes
~best twinkling instants~
a reverie to be kept
when grey winter shows
In the ebony night time stops to flow,
the still hands of the impetus clock freeze
the timeless infinite pathos in congealed instants
for listless life wandering on the shadows of past,
stares through the layered strata of darkness,
designed to mask the acuity lattice.
Clumped silver cloud gleams with astral halo,
moon dust drapes the mind with mesmeric glow,
as ordained stars sprout hope remotely
in the dark night of the inner cosmos.
Indomitable faith fertilizes the fallow mind,
void perception in miasma fill elixir of exuberance ,
waits for the new sunrise to see
the creepy cloud in the obsidian sky melts,
resurgent rain suffuses the silhouetted senses,
for in the stalled time on agonized psychic canvas
there is a darkness framed.
Sub Categories
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.