mind marooned
in
complex convolution
of
singular anonymity
morphs morbid
into
psychic silhouette
deprived despised
of
enlightened elements
of
acquired attributes
abruptly waned
reserved recess
conceals conundrum
of
sub-conscious search
completely clueless
for
exploration entreaty
as
persuasive ploy
of
outside world
can’t contrive
forsaken mind
pining prisoner
of
own making
captive cocoon
in
introvert isolation
innate vision
scans sightless
faces fading
in
fathomless oblivion
morphed mind
accepts acquiescent
archenemy Nemesis
makes a menagerie
of
moving mirage
mystique guide
to
illusion oasis
reflecting radiant
from
cobalt cauldron
confined contentment
of
identity reverence
self-veneration
pretentious perspicacity
of
fake facsimile
invents Narcissus
as
secret switching
over to obsession
as
senseless specter
languishing listless
beneath
opaque stratum
of
arctic acuity
as
petrified essence
in
darkness frozen
Prayer
open door to heaven - devil’s descent at such prospects
teeth and claws - the nails on the cross
light seeps through Christ’s wounds - more sheep gather
angels take notice - boldness of blood, sweat and tears
angels and demons - double-edged sword slashes perversity
prayer’s perspicacity - heaven wins
Mind marooned
in complex convolution,
obscurity singular
in each living entity.
The psyche silhouettes
unique elements,
to alien attributes
they won’t adhere.
The reserved recess
hides the riddles,
sub-conscious search
completely clueless.
Probing entreaty,
the preserve persuasive
of outside world,
can’t contrive
the forsaken mind.
A pining prisoner
of own making,
a crumpled cocoon in
introvert isolation,
I see subsided
all the faces fading
faceless in oblivion,
me wedged secluded
in egoistic web
of self-adoration.
My morphed mind
turns Nemesis,
makes a mirror
of mirage for me.
Gazing gripped,
lurching to the oasis,
it’s only me
I always see,
reflected radiant
from cobalt cauldron
of the luring lake,
confined content.
In self-veneration,
a pretentious perspicacity
of fake facsimile,
I notice Narcissus
in me lonely lurk.
A secret switching
over to obsession,
specter senseless
lies latent,
languishes listless
beneath brazen layers
of arctic acuity
in the dark,
frozen…
Cornflower eyes are selfie-less.
My copper-toned hair, conspicuous.
My playful scarf binds my cares,
Softly flits about
My windblown countenance.
I lose myself in perspicacity,
Alluring and enigmatic,
Expressive but not yielding,
Meandering through past times.
Not tactless - the mirror is gold.
Indecent exposure is snapped,
But I enhance my craft
Against my will with the permanence
Of paint, setting my eyes on the brink,
A musing on the West Yorkshire Moors.
I am more than a Muir’s ghost,
I am a sumptuous recollection of Eve.
Kill one man
and you go
to the gallows
Kill one hundred
and you’re lauded
a hero
Intention like rain
falls on
mountain and plain
The one
flowing downward
—the other to drain
(Dreamsleep: November, 2023)
The mood lifts from the lips, parched with permanent nicotine,
and falls, like snowflake-ashes from a turbulent volcano.
The uninhabited eye, underneath the patch - a vacant stare
into a cloudless night with flamenco-stars. Further from the truth
comes the truth of perspective, perspicacity, the long draw
of his cigarette and slow sigh of ringlets. The Camel scent
of his clothing mixes with lavender and the draught of tears;
melancholy plugs up the dike. An occasional red fingernail,
as if down a chalkboard, his spine, taunts the old timer.
He grunts, and drains the erupting whiskey bottle. Thoughts
take wing…oft’ he hears her laughter, a bird call. Good eye
plucked from the bar, placed with the rest of the stars -
he doesn’t deserve the halo above his habitat, the floor.
Every day, life spins, like a merry-go-round, with no point.
He’ll never tell - the tale is decades gone and oversold.
5/7/2023
Anatomy of Melancholy
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
Sprawling, open,free,desolate even, The vast sky enthralling in waves,correspondent to the plateaus and hills, the depths of which are fascinating even within the trained eye. For this design is focused on the epitome of believing that love doth has a dying voice enveloped inside the inner most of all our beings . Equivocation mysticism as a commodity, but equally inviting , is a heart that is walking into the steps, shadows,whispers and echoes of love. For Footprints of our heart leave a trail of edified, and enamored happiness
Temples throbbing
Heart pounding
at capacity
Introduced very first day
as 'Teacher of Perspicacity'
Did not know what it meant...
Next 'Word of the Day' ~ Retirement
Peter’s prestidigitator progeny perambulated peripatetically with prodigious prowess. Perhaps his precocity precluded presumptuous perspicacity?
January, 11, 2021
MY GOD
Despite of every confusion
in a problem or solution,
in depth of soul resides my God.
My emotive urge prays to Lord.
Beyond strong perspicacity,
wisdom or deep sagacity,
as guide of life I search for God.
My emotive urge prays to Lord
Whether in delight or in grief
On God ! I cherish firm belief,
queries-worries even or odd.
My emotive urge prays to Lord.
Despite of every confusion,
My emotive urge prays to Lord.
Poverty seems like a repellent stuck on the poor
Whose only fault lies in owning no property or asset to parade
Among wealth admirers and worshippers to whom poverty seems dour
In contexts where ostentatious display of wealth cuts the grade
That profligacy and extravagance attract
Robbing the poor of the dignity glitter
As though on purpose fleas of poverty they contract
Dumping ugliness on the poor on whom fruits of affluence litter
Dwindling humanness and affection which wealth simpleton conflate
Into little human worth and warmth
Where spooks of poverty deflate
In proportion to the increase in affluence sloth
Sown, grown and thrown with utter scorn
To belittle
Abject poverty misguided affluence thinkers warn
Amounting to little less than spittle
Poverty peels off humbug and complacency
Exposing deeper layers of flawed humanity
Denuded of perspicacity and sagacity
Sometimes concealed in the deficit of humility
That often mars circles of affluence
Where possession seems to epitomise human dignity
Mistakenly regarded as diluted influence
The poor exert in extolling human unity shorn of wealth affinity and motility.
So far away from home, but it feels like Birmingham
Capturing pictures of it all to post on Instagram
Now thinking if I should relocate for better perspicacity
Alluding that something different will not be bad for me
Nick still by my side, no telling what we're getting into
He's chosen to drive, and I'll assist on what I can do
And I say, "the bomb gals always live near the lakes"
He says, "we're almost in Huntsville, and I'm not trying to wait".
There we chill, but it's far from frigid outside today
Conversation drifts into, "what if we decide to stay?"
The Idea is gold, as we hope some day it will happen
Soon we wrap it up. And tomorrow? Another Sunday in Gadsden.
Persistent for truth, he
probes to find the answers.
Perceiving, his judgment
penetrates with shrewdness.
Prepared and accurate,
prodigious in his work,
part skill, part detective.
Written on 11/16/2015
Pleiades
Below the stars and silver moon,
Abounds the coruscation of silhouetted curves.
Sinusoidal and voluptuous,
Seismic undulating and venereal.
Your mind synaptically aglow under the light,
Evokes ethereal perspicacity within my soul.
A torrent tsunami of desire thrusts my body.
Leaves me wanting to make love to you:
Make love to your mind,
Make love to your body,
Make love to your heart,
Make love to your soul.
All under the emanating fragrance of the horticultural moon.
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.