Short Abdication Poems

       castle walls breaching
a king weeps in mother's arms…
          the tide rolling in
...

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Poetry sparkles like a precious diamond
  Its heart beats, rhyme or no rhyming, yet --
If no vivid picture delights the imagination
  Is it still poetry ~ or poetic abdication...

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Emerald paints hills
Tall cottonwoods dance
Soft clusters drift
Riverbank winds laugh
Leaves endorsing orange
Skeletal branches weep
Soft clusters melt
White wonderland bows
Emerald paints hills


Protected by copyright
All Rights Reserved
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My Compassion's mute by her bedside
My bodies a host, a stopped up drain

She sucks for emancipation

And yet there is no air, no  pillow light enough to
bring sleep or dreams

Hours n' hours a night I lay
Shaky awake to her needs

I fluff, I prop, I smile to soothe
Counting my silence less I scream....

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on night's soft pillow

sky's king is falling asleep- 

abdication's dream!* 






© Demetrios Trifiatis
       16 June 2020

* Seeing everything that happens these days around the world and being disappointed, the sun might like to give up his throne so he doesn't have to witness tomorrow!
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Hilary Billary Shmock
The lady is purebred shlock

She 'Bill-ked' the Nation
Via Libyan abdication

Hilary Billary Thwock
Her tongue's a nerveless nock

She squawks and squawks
Paranoid deplorables-crock

Hilary Billary Shlock
Give her the old hemlock!


       April 15, 2019
A Realistic Hilary Clinton Poem contest
  Sponsor: Michael Wegman...

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WINTER    FOG

Grey fingers soft as a pickpocket’s
Kingdom of the blind
With no one-eyed man

People appear and disappear for a moment
Ghost visitors to the realm
Steal   in and out,

And are lost. 
Feet pressed to the  ground
Are  the only assurance 

That sooner or later
The robbed land  will reappear
And the abdication of the sun will end.
...

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This,
was the matter of non-matter,
permeating in every pore, cell,
thought. An elusive,
connection to unknown.

You,
want to create a Grail
to receive the blood, of heaven
to imbue,
the dark space.

A chilling,
belief to confer,
a glorified name to astigmatism
without the consent
of the eye.

Arboreal,
the naked soul 
renunciates all the fruits
and departs for
another sky.


Satish Verma


...

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Looking in the mirror
Dead eyes blunted and wasted
A broken face scarred and withered
The smile a whisper of sand on a ocean desert
Tiny downward curves mirror either side
A face of abdication and abandonment
No fight left, no warrior left standing
Time pushes me backwards to stumble over life
Long spent tears and love curdled
Once unmovable now unmoved
Rejecting the image in hateful disdain
Pity for the life betrayed
and mourning the long dead life...

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When an embryo was growing in a petri dish
I said this is it my adieu
for I am now ready for a new journey of self denial
a skull in my lap
after the abdication of ancient fear
the eyes of buttercups poked with hot iron rods
a hoe breaking the neck of a bowed man
to humanize an ugly beast
my fragile hands make a cup to collect the light
of a fading sun to pour on the stillness
of the dream’s dark roaring
that’s how a pinned butterfly becomes
resigned for capitulation


SATISH VERMA
...

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