Mires Poems | Examples

Espejo

Te desagrado.
Intento borrar las cicatrices en mi cuerpo,
lo tallo, soy brusca.
Me duele, tal como el primer día.
Estoy tratando de agradarte,
no me mires así,
no mires mi cuerpo,
no me talles también.

Black Nymph

Born of deep waters
But hiding secret longings 
Which yearns for the air above
Changing skin daily
The black nymph dreams of the day
It could escape the dank mud
'Til the hard shell cracks
Iridescent wings unfold
It emerged as life transformed
Freed from the cold stream
Now belonging to the skies
Yet, bound by mires of the past
It flies close to the ripples

First Check the Car Tires

The car's engine Fred often fires.
He. simply, first checks the car's tires
And off moves, tires spitting fires:
Tubular rollers end up criers;
Traffic wardens with their "Stop!" liars:
Fred at what he loves never tires!

The strength Free Fred uses he hires
From booze and kola sold by Mires...

After three months Fred's Benz for buyers!
Often worse than cars long in mires.

Nothingness

Feelings numb
Thoughts blank
Meditation 
Or not 
Lost in woods
Wildfires 
Growth without mires
Nothingness
A space of possibilities
Collective consciousness 
To unite and ignite
Bright minds
Through poetry 
At first sight
In my mind and yours
From a world
Beyond habitat

All Thought Egoic

All thought egoic, manifest by desire
Beginning with an identity urge
To expand, identity thus conspires
Spiralling in grooves, of narrow thought surge

Feeling separate from source, we diverge
Hypnotic illusions, attention mires
The clear light of truth, then begins to blur 
All thought egoic, manifest by desire

Blissful consciousness, was our state prior
Before our deluded ego upsurge
Spark becoming flame, now raging fire 
Beginning with an identity urge

Ego thought fed, it begins to infer
Floundering about, reflections admires
Silencing resonance, own thought prefers 
To expand, identity thus conspires

Thinking a gift divine, we did acquire
Boon then bane; ego delusion a scourge
Bewildering illusions, thus does sire 
Spiralling in grooves, of narrow thought surge

Liberation at hand, when we do merge
Choosing resonation with hearts love choir 
Our childlike presence then does re-emerge
Save the love vibration, nothing inspires
All thought egoic

14-January-2021

Mire of the Northern Rain Forest

Spring buds
Bursting
Like popcorn stuck on sticks
Raising my perspective to
Gallivant
In knee-high tickle grass
Nested
In the strew of stony rocks
Festooned
With sphagnum and lichen
Frothed with droplets
Of glistening crystal lather
Moored in glade and rill
Plundered in claggy stodge
Boggy green and juicy with rain
The jaunt sloshes with plunger feet

Air raids above
Signal
Whirring wispy winged ghosts
Bombers
Buzzzzzzzzzing
Skitting overhead
Barely black shadow fellows
Intent in reaching their target
Synced and signaled
Like flittering naked poltergeists
Aiming for a sticky sweet meal
Arms, legs ankles and necks
Covered or not
Stabbed with little mercy
In the trove of
Spring Buds
So Alive!



May 16, 2020

Hallow's Eve

Spin me a dream
 etched in witches screams
in your Halloween black cauldron
 with mighty warlocks marauding.
Stir the liquid concoctions
 blend the dissolving toxins
into a hue of blood red drippings
 with finger nail and toe clippings;
spit into the flaming fires
 make your wish in lusty desired mires;
slip away the veil of night
 scare and taunt the children in flight;
screech and howl ,bay at the moon
 as flesh and sinew melt upon the mixing spoon,
shake the skeletons out of the trees
  freshen their graves with faded flower sneezes;
step lively and step quick
 eve of the dead lay in the air heavy and thick
slay the monsters and the broom riding witch
 in pumpkin orange feathers and blackened pitch

Banshee

BANSHEE


From out of the dusk, through a thin shaft of light
A dark shape appears on this cold misty night
A disfigured mutation, with a look of forlorn
She’s a tortured creation, she is the unborn

From the bleak depths of hell, and out of its fires
She ghosts in the shadows, the gutters and mires
She can smell the last breath that you take when you die
As she creeps through the gloaming, to wait for the sigh

You can sense her ill presence, and feel her dark power
As she glides on the wind, till the death taking hour
That’s when the creatures, they turn and they flee
As another soul’s claimed, by a wailing banshee

The Last Trumpet

My people
if only you would see
the beauty in you
if for an instant
feel all the emotions
of the buried love deep inside you

Such a glorious day would burgeon forth
released from all the human anthem
would lift the world
to the heavens

If only you would see
as you were made and meant to be
and from the mires and pits
open the gates
to be released

If you could but comprehend
your potential
AH the world would ring resounding
in such joyous unison 
would raise up
all that it is
in grateful salutation

My people
if you would but believe
in you

A shinning future
upon this pedestal of earth would rest
in final liberation
this recognition in tender mercifulness
would come
and all tears be wept in compassion

This is you
my people

Too long all your resilience
given to the struggle
too long shoveled into survival
AH my people, awake
for there is more courage
more fortitude
and more love inside you
than you ever dreamed possible

Awake my people
awake.

Sway of Death

Sway of Death

The unmatched Perfection
Strived to be attained by every fragment of the Nature

The epitome of Subtleness
In the otherwise explicitness of the harsh Universe

The permanent Abode
In the place so uncertain to find even gentle Havens

The Serenity so longed 
In the worldly hustle of the busy life

A gentle loving Caress
In the  self-important society of hypocrites

The ultimate Reality
In the trajectory of life full of mirages and mires

The Sway of the Supreme Death...
Natural and very inevitable yet dreaded and unwelcome...

Dated: 12/02/2015

One Hit Wonder

How deadly this sweet drink of praise, 
that sipped, decays the thing it lauds. 
A sly deceiver, 'tis, oh yes, 
this chronic craving for applause. 

A first place prize, the kiss of death,
to art original and free. 
But now is surely lost I fear,
in muddy mires of mimicry.

A Wasteful Search of the Spirit

Mysteries trapped in false understanding which,
Are often the questions that go unanswered in the pursuit of happiness.
Only wisdom prevents the downfall of the human spirit. 
Knowing when something or someone may at any given period of time,
May vanish, going undiscovered to the naked eye. 

The disappearance mires the spirit of the one searching in grime.
It draws every bit of togetherness from its surrounding resonance.
Trying to reform what was lost, never to be returned.

Suffocating a Gasp For Breath

My feet are stuck in the mire 
I struggle but cannot free myself
As the mud gets higher and higher.

And the more I struggle and fight
The deeper I go
Down into the murky suffocating
Depths below.

The mud rises now rises up to my waist
I panic arms aloft and  let out a primal scream
''Help me''!!!!!!
In haste
But no one comes
As reality bites
About my impending demise
As my muddy grave and impending
Death
As I struggle
With one last gasp of breath.

My bones never discovered
The mires secrets kept
Never missed  forgotten
Not even a whisper of a thought
In anyone's mind of me
No sadness or regret.

I am nothing.

Peter Dome.Copyright.2015. May.

Belladonna

I see you in my dreams
An unravelled seam,
A faded place,
Struggling to resurface,
An irrefutable alteration in my life's plan,
Branded and irrevocable throughout my lifespan
Leaving tear-stained cheekbones
And whispered tones
Depthless emptiness in my trembling heart
Trails of scar tissue as you depart
Stilling the voices in my melancholic mind,
Memory I see has truly been unkind
For here you were and here you are not
My heart and my soul remains besot
As I glide through the mires and murky without care,
Your cruelty has erased my concept of fear,
There is no life in these arms to reach forth,
No craving or wanting to be sought,
If there is a thing to cure what is ailing me,
Darkness dictates that even that will fail me.

Just Behind the Eyes

I count my joys and grief
In one set
My prayers flew not beneath
Your hand not to let.
As if to balance the scales.

Sorrows not so melancholy 
I ponder at some desires 
All no part of some folly
Sinking below beauty's mires
As if to even it out. 

What sickness doth lie
Just behind the eye.

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