Kids’ chatter no more knows this house,
A ghost-like life grows in this house.
It hangs on still in deep hunger
Of sounds. To stillness bows this house.
Clean tiles waiting to be muddied,
Soiled floor no more shows in this house.
Wishful hopes long turned to despair,
Heard are wails of woes in this house.
Where’s he, long hailed by this name plate?
Seeds of doubt now sows in this house.
Doors duly locked for a while now,
Void stares through windows in this house.
Hum of life no more in this house,
What sombre chill goes in this house!
_____________________________
Ghazal | 05.12.2025 | children, house, memories, old age, pathos
Note: Human body is like a house on hire and gets old before one realizes. Yet, well before that it lives through thousand hopes, aspirations, and expectations, many of them dying as mere hopes--unrealized. Old age is the last phase of life, but far from its end. Body gets old, hopes nor mind. In this ghazal, old age is looked at as an old house that has seen many of these hopes slipping away. Memories only what remain.
Since I am not a Premium Member,
not by design but through circumstance
(I’d gladly convert from nonmember
if only I had better finance),
I lack that feature that would allow
myself to make some notes and declare
That my poems are entirely made
sans the aid of any AI ware.
Permit me then to affirm it here
on pain of death or, worse, your disdain
My verses are humanly written
as are all the pathos they contain.
November 3, 2024
Baguio City, Philippines
Floating away from worldly chaos
My mind engages with the stars
Consumed with emotion at earthly pathos
Humanity hurts with so many scars.
Endless wars inflicted on innocent
Famine endured, where is the rain?
Pandemic and masks we were vigilant
Global problems with endless pain.
A stolen moment where peace did reign
Earthly matters did not exist
All was calm there was no disdain
It was gift sublime chaos not missed.
easier than seems
getting lost within our dreams
is this what it means
to exist on this planet
bit more conscious than granite
the fear of being
where there's no guaranteeing
things we're believing
like the gods in the heavens
evil is caused by devils
amid the chaos
hold tight what is dear to most
entertain old ghosts
quickly choosing not to see
all that is or soon will be
completely reject
our universal connect
base human concept
fabricate different course
deny coming from the source
bound to each other
'til being pulled asunder
by the next number
just cosmic dust in the sky
we exist until we die
children of the stars
sometimes forget what we are
have evolved this far
unthinking spin through cosmos
truth turning into pathos
Predatory lions,
Prowl through the savanna,
Patiently hunting prey.
Powerful carnivores,
Pursuing their quarry.
Pandemoniums cull
Plays out, until they kill.
3 / 18 / 2022.
Poetry contest. In search of prey.
Sponsor. Joseph May.
Animal chosen. Lion.
How would you feel now? It's brutal to leave.
It's challenging to view tears bestow to the grieve.
Cogency has peculiarly drowned my life.
Peace and harmony are solved by vying and strife.
O, Love's Pathos! You sparkle akin to a jewel.
In the realm of angels, all spirits dwell.
A breeze blew over the garden of destiny.
O, Love's Pathos! There is yet any dainty.
I was the person who owned your inward mood.
I was the person who adjusted your cooed.
I had no goal of resisting your insight.
Before meeting me, life would be a plight.
Allow sadness to induce his happiness.
Until sadness no longer finds jolliness.
2nd Place Contest Winner
Written: September 25, 2021
''P'' Contest, New or Old Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
A wooden flute,
I glimpsed among my mother’s treasured keepsakes,
Often Wondered.....
Why it seemed the most precious than everything else she cherished!
A pathos lurking underneath the saddest smile, she told me...
The flute was the only thing she had of her brother,
who, in their childhood, played music when she sang,
He passed away from tuberculosis, in his twenties ..
the two efflorescent roses on the same branch…
one fell and perished, when it could have blossomed and
charmed the earth with its fragrance!
The other one clung to the tiny piece of memory he left..
A Symphony Of Love!
FIRST PLACE
Edited " Last Sigh" on September 24, 2021
For "P" Old or New Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
It’s again one of those evenings
It’s again one of those pains
It’s again one of those
moments of loneliness.
When a whiff of fragrance in the air
sets the heart pounding
When the soothing moonlight
sets the soul on fire,
When you cry
and couldn’t shed tears
When you drink the ocean
and couldn’t quench the thirst,
When you envy the twinkling stars
and hate the free roaming clouds
When time stands still
and each moment you live
seems like an eternity,
When at each breath in you live
and at each breath out you die!
~Contest: "P" (Pathos) Poetry
~Sponsor: Constance La France
My flesh is wrinkled and older each day
The pained steps I take a tortured farewell
The friends I once had have all gone away
Inside my mind's eye is where they now dwell
Weariness I wear with days of old age
To hold me, hostage, till' my life can fade
The years I have lived, I'm at the last stage
And wait for the darkness in dim-lit shade
Memories I have are moments to hold
They drift in and out, no reason to cry
Flickering pictures they too have grown old
Endless images from life's last goodbye
They come without warning to fill my head
And leave me in tears, down my face they spread
8/9/21
contest "P" new or old poems
sponsor Constance La France
In Teapa he now makes his home
After his journey from the states
Trouble caused his heart to roam
And sorrows filled his plate
One friend asked him about the gun
And what he planned to do that night
He said he’d do what must be done
And anger blurred his sight
He shot her down and did not care
The gun still in his hand
His woman said that she had dared
To love another man
Someone asked where he would go
Where he would run or stay
He simply said I do not know
And headed down Mexico way
People staring from a distance
Some just mumble and turn away
And he can tell in just one instance
What they mean and what they say
So when I see him on the street
I shake his hand so he will know
He has a friend and when we meet
I simply say “Hey Joe”
So little done,the pathos of things,this nearly man caught in ignorance on a lonely path where tempo treads softly,alone.A time out for heartache, primeval feelings sitting on a volcano in a bleak mid winter. Living for today one thing leads to another..out of the blue. A watershed..to catch this miracle, a glimpse of the soul..petal by petal being doubly blessed.
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Poetic Form :: IMAYO
Ethos
Ethos is a means of convincing someone of
the credibleness, probity of persuader.
It's an appeal to ethics, serves to highlight the
persuader's reputation ethical state.
~X~X~X~
Pathos
Pathos is an appeal to the emotions of
the audience and to elicit feelings that
already reside in them. It's an artistic
representation for evoking compassion.
~X~X~X~
Logos
Logos is an appeal to logic and reason;
It is way of influencing an audience
by the principle of reason and the judgement
connected with motivation to do something.
~X~X~X~
Life a beautiful woven tapestry
Silken threads running through a brocade
Day in and day out we sweat and toil
To the rhythm of the day
The painter with his brush strokes strives
To bring meaning out of the canvas
Different colours he tries to mix and match
Till the poster comes to life
Times of sorrow, times of joy
All allotted to us
Time for living, time for dying
Set aside by the clock
The maker views life from a prism
Seeing the different colours caused by refraction
Sits back and watches in satisfaction
The game of creation unfolding before his eyes
Pathos cloud drifted in gloomy sky
storm surged from the sagged horizon
mind’s visage turned to destemmed leaf...
rain drops rolled in rills
made a stream of tear.
______________
February 5, 2019
For Bite Size Poem No. 45
Sponsored by Line Gauthier
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.