Short Consolations Poems

the straight jacket
of convention
bring
random
    consolations,
so 
apposite:
the drawback
of the trivial,
underlined
by the inauthentic,
unruffled
by the marginal,
proxy-proof
in the schemes 
of man...
distilled by the
sieve
of the commonplace...

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I welcome the consolations of October,
Sighs of the leaves floating gently down,
Breezes saying warm days may still come
Before the blowing cold of old November,
Portends the end of another good year. 

Written October 31, 2022
Submitted to "Bite Size Poem No. 54" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Line Gauthier...

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Glorified and sanctified 
by all these tomes, 
blessed and praised, exalted, 
extolled and honored, 
adored and lauded 
in the name of these wondrous vintage books,
acclaimed 
in the name of poetry and science fiction 
and lost race adventures, 
sorrows and consolations, 
abundance and peace, 
dreams and losses 
and dreaming still in celestial libraries, 
Amen....

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You ought to thank your stars,
you have the fortune
of having only to pay a fortune
to lose weight,
just so your waistline
and cholesterol and gluttony
you will be able to temporarily
beat.

Somewhere, many more
are not as lucky as you are;
though they don't have
bulging fats to defeat,
they're so ill-starred
as to have the misfortune
of simply having nothing
to eat!...

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ARTEFACTS
recreated
as
a colossus
in  time
 using
dimensional depiction
 extended
 into reality
a glimpse
of the past
with
the possibility
of  consolations
begetting beauty

melancholy
steeped in
its ethereal glory
to reflect
on the
 inspiration
fashioned
mirrored
in
conceptual space
 discovered
by
visionaries
&
expressionist
glowing
in a
 maximalist style...

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As hard as diamonds
A heart of ice
But go ahead try me
It wont happen twice

Pounding reverberations
Constant and unkempt
No consolations
All from being dreamt

Pain free and strong
Diamonds they are
Thats how I belong

Heart going cold
Protection its goal
The next wont be so bold
Can't get away with what it stole

All from a dream
Not reality
A constant stream of obscenity...

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WHO  WILL.

Who will wipe out
My black suffering
Replacing other colours
The contours of waters
Dying waters, the sad waters
Companionship of grieving souls.

Vast reflections
Of death’s cruel hand
Suffocating the tender life
With nails in sharpened pain
Across rivers where phantoms float.

How vast is the grief
For I have paid a high price
Deprived of consolations
Of the heart and of soul twice....

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A silent presence
Gathering shelter
In verses stricken 
Under logged curses
For serenity of moon.

There you fell asleep
Lulled by aftermath
In frozen tears
Shed by the rose
At advent of dawn
Dripping with dews.

What use of inviting fancies
Half buried under the sand
Depicted in pictorial reliefs
Discursive galleries
Of the ancient lands.

To seek consolations
In verbal episode
A smooth searched
Cannon 
In liquid quilled verses....

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