Mutilated mind constructs the precinct of recluse
Encasing the stifling loneliness of sad prison
Languishes there the surrendered psyche.
Agony unsurmountable relentlessly
Negates the positive perspective of hope
Cauldron of dissonance remote from the rhythm of the outside
Hollowness inside filled with drops of depression in adagio
Obdurately prolonged as untiring mental affliction.
Latent desires are demolished and the malleable mind
Yields to nostalgia, the melancholic remnant of yearning.
___________
(I chose to use Acrostic form to dissect melancholy to
discern its anatomy)
May 9, 2023
Contest : Anatomy Of Melancholy
Sponsored by : Craig Cornish
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
Idlers, paved paths with active energies, purloining, feigning amity.
Dodgy & concealing past immoral dregs by comradely, waspish mien.
Obdurately empowered by this stranger plucked from their nocturnal fantasies
Wanton mistresses of countless broken walls in desperation for time.
Unbridled intrusion cloaked in religiosity vexed by undefined arrogance.
Oft, in pretext, manipulating, with energies stronger than the POPE.
Habits of a thuggish intervention foist on bewitched “soul tie”
Ill-beseeming nuances summoning this Stygian to their unsealed brothels
Obvious cliquish vindictive venom of a barrage of past bed felon.
Zestfully compelling, violently intrusive and surreptitiously preying.
Ending the farce, Rapscallion oozing countless entries on the rotten hole.
DAUGHTER of JULY
Impalpable wealth - in family
My children, are my messiah
The true road to immortality
Once dead - we disintegrate in to dust
Passing on this planet - to the ken we entrust
They learn our behavior, absorb our personality.
This daughter is a savior, and pure pride;
without a doubt. Incorruptibly.
Pro-creation is the closest
to God I have come.
So obdurately - Never.
I bow to none,
yet somehow worth
has stoked provoking
life is worthy of living;
when you begin
living for someone.
Unconditional adoration
my biography, she’ll memorialize when my life is done.
Her birth has given existence a completion
Tragic or Comedic?
Now that I revolve around a new sun.
Given new reason.
My polarity has flipped
the center of Future. The center of Me.
Love is in orbit, my shade you eclipse.
To My daughter Mallauri Shade with infinite and eternal love and gratitude.
Stone Cold Statues
Clothe the saints.
Whosoever sees their flesh
will be damned to the great kiln.
I love their garments, the sculptor’s breath
on billowing stone, their faces white
like hosts of God turned man,
of bread turned God, and sinners
turned harmless in unleavened circles.
I am not of the miracle life.
I only understand the statues'
never-wavering watch as their
clothing flows obdurately soft.
©Kathryn McL. Collins