Madness Poems - Poems about Madness

I. THE WANDERING I was born with a life that bled— a seafloor womb dragging tides of fern and marigold char The priests brought saffron and fear crowning me with diagnosis They said: She is too empty They said: Fill her with figs with seed with stillness They said: Her belly speaks too loud Mute her O Plato old patriarch of phantoms my body was no beast— just prophecy you never learned...

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I wasn’t born — I was expelled, From choking smoke and screams I yelled. No breath of grace, no holy light, Just claws and fire in endless night. No lullaby, no sweet refrain, Just rusted chains and seeping pain. A crib of ash, a whip for love— I crawled while angels laughed above. They fed me rot, they bled me dry, They laughed each...

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Beaming sculpture whittled by awning clouds over blue sea Ethereal beauty tinged in brown, green and yellow shea Aerial bliss, flaunting on leaves-sunkissed Under and over my wings, I breathe your scented mist Talons I sprawl, your branches I grip Yonder sanctuary, your soothing shield I trip Amongst beauties of nature, your heights majestic Narwhals of blue seas,...

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When Madness Grins When madness grins, the mirrors blink, And all the clocks begin to drink. Time forgets its careful lines— And paints the air in crooked signs. Mice wear monocles to preach at dawn, Clouds dress up in suits and fawn. The moon plays marbles with the sun, While nightmares nap when day is done. The moon forgot her name last night, So she...

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Poet's Notes : Pick-A-Title, Vol 52 - Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh 11/6/25 Example used in this poem was by the poet written 2023 "My Motto - If you cant be better - be different" Quote by the poet. _____________________________________________________ There was "Method in your madness!" Early days this caused some sadness Never praised for a job well done Attributed to...

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A day so fine, no ills on my mind, then it's late and angst lays me down those rude intrusive thoughts those bruising, bad night thoughts They come at night, enter my head, when out the light and prone in bed. Lay me down with my brain's views and intrusive soon fiddles my pillow. Nighty, my sane fights madness that night...

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It's been an hour and ten days The time since you went away It's been a torture for me then The feeling is like I'm a neglect Everyday seems a dull moment It's gloomy, I can't concentrate I'm alone, I can't done my work As if there's no life in all I see The colors around me all dark Every food I eat has...

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Call me Mr. Sensible. Call me Mr. Reason. You can always count on me, regardless of the season. Consistently, I have a plan, built on a firm foundation. I take care to work things out, based on sound information. But as I get older, something might be happening to my brain. Madness wants to disrupt my methods, rational...

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Madness to the Method It did not come from mode of method, nor from the charted mind. But sprung from a will-o'-the-wisp spark in the blind spot shadow, of the brain, disentangled and drifting. The idea slipped in sideways, from the periphery of focus, when attention was distracted, by the flit of eyes glancing, in other ways on other days, For the more you...

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They dressed me in dust and called it a uniform, Handed me thunder stitched in steel, Told me the sky breaks different When you pull the trigger. I was nineteen, Still dreaming in my mother’s accent, Still soft in the places They'd soon carve into callous. War, they said, was order— A hymn of strategy and sweat, A chessboard with bones for bishops And pawns that...

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Sometimes the things some humans do when judged by reason’s point of view appear as acts of insane fools which defies logic’s rigid rules. The virtues that sweet madness breeds inspiring heroic deeds are from a realm beyond earth’s clime suffused with attributes sublime. The martyrs dear of Christendom faced their demise with buoyant bliss their tormentors were baffled by the peaceful way in which...

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I. The Hour of Approach The poem I was writing refused to end— it kept writing me. Blood didn't ink these lines— the ink bled me. Each stanza a hidden-hematoma across the white of nothingness. Somewhere, midnight faltered, and I was no longer alone. II. Visitation: Sylvia Plath Sivvy came barefoot, bees orbiting...

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...Have you ever seen true madness take full possession of a man? Gobayth’s dreams of coming home were now all well and truly damned. It’s said he screamed for half the night, so much that it damaged his throat, and it was not long after that he started slaying ‘settled’ folk. The first target was a merchant travelling with his concubine and his two slaves...

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...A jolt ran though the broken men, like wraiths they rose, streamed for the door, Gobayth waved them on until nobody remained anymore. They raced on towards the small hut where all of the pick-aces lay, some guards were starting to notice, running about every which way. Gobayth wished the poor men luck, but he did not follow their path, and instead ran to the...

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...After a bit her cries died down, everyone could see she was dead, a small head hung between her thighs, mother and son covered in red. He had seen so much callousness, but this he just couldn’t believe, it was after seeing this horror Gobayth decided to leave. Of course, it took some time to plan, in the day the watch was intense, men along...

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