Seethes Poems | Examples

Listen to the Wind

The wind off the cold North Atlantic ocean
smells of piquant seawater on its breath,
agreeably pungent, brackish and moist.
The legendary Nor'easter off Newfoundland,
the bane of so, so many ships at sea,
is not a breeze with a soft, caressing hand.
It kicks and knocks and slaps and whacks and thwacks,
pummels and punches, pinches and pushes.
The stolid, sturdy imperturbable island
sits there and puts up with the abuses.

The northeasterly wind is very resentful
of its odiferous reputation.
At night, it simmers and seethes and smolders,
writhes and trembles, weeps and whines, stirs and sulks.
But, like the song says, the wind and sea smells
are "perfume to my soul". I stand alone on shore
and listen to the ocean's roar, wind's whoosh,
and my mind decompresses, destresses;
this is my peace, my serenity. I am home.

Summer Heat

Sun is seen a flaming ball in the sky,
Darting down pointed spears of smarting beams.
Horrid heat waves, from the smoked earth, rise high.
For drops of water, the thirsty earth screams. 

The waterlogged piece of land has gone dry.
The soil is arid and left cracked and parched.
Drying crops have made farmers sadly sigh.
The once lush green meadows are lying scorched.

Sun's heat, like a spiteful scorpion’s sting,
Burns,  damaging the flesh and the bared skin. 
The fiery tongues of humid summer fling,
Licking up the last residue of green. 

The dry leaves under the feet whine and moan
Etna seethes, birds and beasts, for water groan!

After The Storm Hurricane Milton

They kneel in water that once was their streets,
hands, like small boats, lifting the broken
pieces of each other—what is left
of their homes sway in the wind’s aftermath.

But in the hollows of their ribs,
compassion flows, fingers reaching out,
the strangers have come as if drawn
by some invisible thread of the heart.

A woman holds a child not her own,
and in the grocery lines,
men share silence as a form of prayer.

The sea still seethes in their veins,
but they have become each other’s islands,
speaking in gestures,
their empathy moving through the ruin,
like light on a broken mirror.

Dozing the Depths

 
Written: February 26, 2024
               ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Our slumber, a rock falling swiftly overnight,
Embalms serene, steady air that breathes.
It shapes our days as a harbor of zeal bright,
From choppy seas as ethereal rage seethes.

Encrusted jewels beneath its surface gleam,
Emerald caskets clasped in diaphanous silk.
Here, flaws relent as wealth raises self-esteem,
Adorned with pearl crowns and gems of pink.

A skull below the silt, bulging from the bed,
Bleach-white sockets gaze at vacant space.
Deep-buried creatures intertwine instead,
With live death as bones, they now embrace.

As deep slumber shifts the waves of time,
Wishes were all that revealed the sublime.

New Leaves

The new leaves we saw unfurling
Are now colour changed and falling

Spirit once soothed in a soft breeze’s embrace
Now seethes, hurling ice shards in my face

New rose buds that were late to bloom
Stay with you, frozen, entombed.

Blarney Day

In Cork’s old heart
As poetic whispers play,
This district thrives
And tales hold sway.

Oh, Blarney, 
A place for words to craft and flow,
In the realm of stories, 
As hearts jump and glow.

Upon a lofty fortress 
Ancient and grand,
The rock of eloquence
A boon to the land.

Brushed by the daring
With audacious finesse,
Bestowing silver tongues
Through arresting address.

Mists caress the hills
And folklore breathes,
A dance with the arts
Inspiration seethes.

Whispers of fairies
Their muse in the air,
Guiding hands in crafts
With a tender care.

Within the tavern's haven
Here friendships ride,
Consuming fish and chips
Verses by the fireside.

The Blarney Stone's magic
In the artist's refrain,
This symphony of creativity
An unbridled domain.

To Blarney, we toast
Where poems takes flight,
In the domain of crafts
We set minds alight.

Fomented

In field of emotions, a fire-storm has grown,
Seeds of rebellion aflame and wind-borne are sown.
Creating chaotic scenes, burned by spirit's flame,
Fomented fervor, a revolutionary game.

Fomented hearts, with courage compromised are made lame,
Unyielding on purpose, foments have staked their claim.
Anger simmers, rancor seethes, and heart beat wavers
In the cauldron of discord, it quivers quavers.

Fomented minds, with thoughts so tainted, twisted unkind,
Make claims to sublime reason, unravel unwind
They inflame the embers of long stagnant belief,
Awakening the masses asleep, pedaling grief.

The frothy foment foam spewed up into the crowd,
Ignites ferment and loathing in threatening cloud.

Grime Under the Tablecloth

Grime under the table cloth

Beneath the fluorescent lights and sterile walls, 
Lurks an undercurrent of unspoken strife. 
The daggers are kept hidden, the words unsaid, 
But the tension is palpable, 
A throbbing wound. 
For all the forced cordiality, 
the animosity seethes underneath.

©?Chitra Arun

The Mirage

The allured mind roaming restive 
in the searing desert engulfing,
seethes in the pensive pores 
of the swirling sands desolate. 
The drops of sanguine sense desiccate,  
the dust of desire swirls 
with the transient sheen, 
transforms into tantalizing mirage,
flashing with the tangerine tinge 
of the sinking sun suspended
on the evaporating skyline,
where the flicker of mirage called hope 
disappears from the myopic vision blurred,
like the golden deer fleeing 
from the elusive oasis unreached,
at the end of the craving trail unwalked.

_______________

March 26, 2023
For Strand No 1203 Contest

For Brown Bread and Bed

Queen looks like The Dead,
No served loved Brown Bread.
With bread again lives
Starts again to breathe,
Her best at work gives,
Not with anger seethes…

Queen becomes True Head 
From tasted Brown Bread 
Starts guiding a spiv: 
“From Poor Rice stones sieve!”

For ‘Brown’ not ‘White Bread’
‘Dark’ not like ‘Bright Red’
Queen as much for bed;
Die she would instead,
When aches fight ones head
Or blue eyes dark red,
Good rest to health give:
Sleep that makes one live…


For Brown Bread and Bed,
She’d like angels tread!

Latino Spin

Buttocks push; breasts boast
through non-existent crowds.
A choreographed squall
above the whir and clunk
of loaded appliances.

Hispanic girls acting out
in a Laundromat.
Hips gesture, hands stab
and tussle with unwashed issues.

I’m distracted by the overheated hum,
can’t read the print
of my paperback. Words run
naked over yellow pages
The girls are angry
but not with each other.

Skimpy shorts and gang-inks.
The porous waft of feral hormones
seethes over some slight,
branded onto a Facebook page.

They flop onto the slatted bench
produce a smart phone,
scroll through pictures,
moue and glower softening
as baby shots are thumbed.

Melting smiles, then
they hold up the cell for me to see.
we coo and smile together.
The they return to their world
and I to mine.

When they get up
the backs of their thighs
are marked by the wooden seat.

Washing spins on.

Seed of Happiness

Soaring storm seethes in the seamless sky
Tracks tormenting terror in anguished air
The stratified wind doesn’t understand why
The abrasive turbulence it should share.

Afflicting anger flares in the spiteful mind
Smolders the sullen life’s cinders to bear
The ashes of angst fly far failing to find
The rationale why empathy doesn’t care.

Heaving haze holds the humid horizon won
Spreads the shroud of gripping gloom severe
Clumps of clouds drift away from the spent sun
Hoping from the dark a bright day would appear.

Seething sorrow simmers in the marooned mind
Permeates pain in life drowned deep in despair
Serene soul blooms bliss to dispel agony unkind
Fecund hope seeds happiness in dry drops of tear.

_______________

August 10, 2022
Emotions : Despair, Hope
Rhyme checked at RhymeZone.com
Contest : Strong Emotions 
Sponsored by : Emile Pinet

Solace of Bliss

Grief seethes deep in mangled mind,
pained heart sinks in dark abyss,
divine light sheathes soul enshrined,
blessed essence gets calm solace of bliss.

__________________

March 24, 2022
Syllable count : 7779
Checked on howmanysyllables.com
Contest : LIND30 Rhyme
Sponsored by : Chantelle Anne Cooke

Hope Spins Bliss

Soaring storm seethes in the shattered sky
Traces the tormenting terror in the calm air
The whispering wind of joy knows not why
It should face ruthless turbulence of despair.

Afflicting anger flares up in the spiteful mind
Smolders the sullen life to form extant ember
The anguished ashes fly away, failing to find
solace of hope the heart doesn’t remember.

Harrowing haze clutches the hidden horizon 
Spreads the shroud of gloom in atmosphere
Cotton clouds drift away from the veiled sun
Hoping from darkness a bright day will appear.

Seething sorrow simmers in the marooned mind
Permeates pain in heart plunged deep in misery
Divine touch illumines the soul, agony rescinds
Sedate hope spins bliss in blessed life tapestry.

_______________

February 4, 2022
Contest : Hope
Sponsored by : Mohan Chutani

This Vessel

This weathering vessel that casts about
A barge adrift in the river of lies.
My crumbling ship, my hopes all cast in doubt
I navigate past cults of crying eyes.

This rusting old tanker betrays my flame
My boy joy driving fervent flaring glare.
I’m no match for terror by any name 
Scant my Ali fist-words striking the air.

This floating worn casket my last cradle
I can’t go while hate burns from the sewers.
And Earth seethes and chokes fumes unnatural
But who breathes once guns fire from hate’s snipers?

I cruise this clumsy tub to open sea
And give my dwindling days to speak freely.

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