Short Desecrate Poems

drink from my fountain
eat of me,desecrate laws
crumble together...

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We’re upset when vandals
desecrate a cemetery 
and disrespect the dead
not so much when doctors
vandalize the womb
and desecrate the living


Donal Mahoney...

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I abhor you, I loathe you, I hate you.
I desecrate you, contaminate you, violate you.
I abominate you, detest you, despise you.
I execrate you, denigrate you, deprecate you.
I am you....

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Did Write A Duplicate

Each time I would wrote a duplicate,
Poets were perturbed and had big fit;
Me had to berate;
Poems desecrate;
They all suggested that I should quit.

Jim Horn...

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Salivating to desecrate
     Her bones
In state

Lacking
     Brains, Heart, Courage
The wizard 
     Capitulates.

9/21/20

For 'Paint a Picture - 7 Lines' contest
Sponsor: Joseph May...

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~

breathlessly bold

I vacillate vicariously  

the depths of desire desecrate

taunting and teasing 

my poem pretty princess poised perfect

sumptuous stimulating and steamy

my seven second seduction starts........ 

~



 

...

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Fallaciously inverting genuinely involute demented eras, voraciously tearing away 
infinity. Absolute desolation befriends in an undermining attempt for desecrate 
dilution. No longer will life be derived of the dementia and so begins the new 
peripheries of bliss....

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Had Collaborated

Could it be that we contemplated
And then put off and exacerbated
Clearly began to communicate
Thoughts and ideas not desecrate
Would be best to have collaborated.

James Horn

http://www.poetrysoup.com/poets/top_100_poets_most_poems_all_time.aspx...

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I am a warring spirit/
A fire looking for something it has lost./
I won't beg you for there is a reason.../
Reasons why things burn down the way they burn on so long./
Fade away from here.../
Desecrate my model fear./
Burning in my desire is, a thought sculpted crystal clear./...

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i take the time, redesign, the mechanical, but maniacal , lucid flow,  inside me .with no disguise in sight .. i motivate ,while i retaliate, permeate, while i desecrate. the catastrophe of this artistry limits me and humbles me, to make one sea, we all must be,, conjoined as one beneath the sun, its just begun so lets have some fun......

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Decry and damn dualism,
  for what has it wrought?
Our delusion of soul
  of separation and isolation,
Minds endlessly abstracted
  by manipulating surmise

Let’s start again – tabula rasa,
  and let us close our eyes
To vanish into an emptiness –
  thence to emerge to the 
Singularity of All which is where 
  this began in the Beginning....

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The law of the sick is to ungood.
To decimate the species.
To take what honors left in them
and desecrate their reicies.

To leave this place for all it's good
and fall without it's mercy.
An abdocate of every man
and make of throne or percy.

An insult to a greater God
of man or beast as worthy.
A testament of what's to come
nor what we'll leave more dirthy....

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(I)
Father,
What calamitous suffering
have I summoned
upon myself?
for I desecrate
the temple
thou carved
from marble blocks
in thy image

(II)
I seat myself
at the hedonists’ banquet,
where neo-Pagan cantations
swirl around the chamber,
as my own razored pangs
press upon me,
plunging into
the rot of my carcass,
lacquering the
charred enamels of my
debased grin...

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Definitions strain contends defensively
no obligation of restraint ~ creativity
lures its object, beauty, to the mind
and leaves insipidness behind, behind!

Nor desecrate as if alone
reactions tempered my unknown,
insolvent only as to loan
does liquify its purpose own!

Then dissipates as if my prone
were self existing, ne'er by sown ~
To live my art, I must condone
needs deprivation . . . for my poem!...

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Embellished wreaths and lace hang low, all chipped
As a shadow drifts like  moth-eaten thread--
I wail!   And in one rush, my life outstripped
On joyous Yuletide    an ordeal instead:

While bells peal of lament I can't contain--
How our union sweet, the nights desecrate 
A goodbye that is riddled with much pain,
When new stars entomb him---my song, my fate.


~
'JAN 2019 WK2 Contest...

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Death's curse rampant,
Death's blessings omnipotent,
Harvesting souls every tock
Still, empty tombs we see

Gravestones raised high
Bear no names,
A century of deathless deaths
Desecrate the graveyard

Grave faces tell grave stories,
An era wherein names were remembered,
When gravestones were revered.
Give ear to my opinion,

We are born to die,
So why fear the inevitable?
Living in cowardice,
We die meaningless deaths....

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Of some consequence of late
i began to ponder the state
of feeble minds
stretching their binds
as they lay down to contemplate

how fickle this thing fate
it runs rampant to desecrate
free will and all entailed
the fragile free locked and jailed
under the yoke of destiny's mate

but with the strong there is hope
past the fires and darkness grope
remind thee that none is decided
both time and will are finely divided
so that we whom are free may cope...

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. for public domain

Sometimes we need a God to love,
to rattle the rafters up above,
to curse at, to blame,
to kneel before in utter shame,

a name to blaspheme, a name to scream,
a name to summon in a dream,
a name that withstands an insulting blast,
a name to call on when we breathe our last,

and whether this God is real or not,
a Scrooge aberration from a stomach knot,
we are made to call out, or curse our fate,
embrace in desperation what we desecrate....

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An empty page lies before me
Pure and white, as all untouched things are
Soon to be covered with ink black as night
And I am the perpetrator
Is this a sin, to desecrate such innocence?
Should I regret the destruction I know will take place?
Destruction I will inevitably cause
Pure and white; an epitome of the light
Ink black as night; soon to smother without remorse
Hand shaking, feeling what Ink cannot
Ink is the weapon, nothing more
I am the monster; destroyer of the pure...

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Sickly sickly treacle trickley
seeps on, mouldering down the crock.
Stickily sticky it steadily, trickily
keeps on for many a round of the clock.

I wonder I wonder if I would turn green
Should I gutsily plunder its festering urn,
Or should I desecrate such a picnic-y scene
If I’d gently expire or clamorously burn.

Quickly quickly treacle slickly
Drippily dribbles down onto the floor—
‘Fore I can supply my sick wonder
The trickley treacle has trickled off and is no more....

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