Short Dynasties Poems

Castles -- bush and thatch
Dynasties of white water
Tycoon -- blazing match...

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Idolized by pharaohs, monarchs and kings;
Bird of the wetlands, marshes and swamps.
Interesting forager with long bill and stilted long legs;
Sacred icon of the dynasties of yore....

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fuchsia rose was captured in the early sixteenth century
her legend was passed through many dynasties,
then storytellers got bored with her, and forgot her story
she waited for her chance; twinkling and dazzling newbies
enticing one to release her from her Pandora prison
the unlucky instigator of the pandemic...

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Our rapid breaths
Rise and fall
In dreams, in all our waking hours
Empires and Dynasties 
Till the end of the Earth
Let's run till we meet the moon
And dangle our swinging legs from the horizon line
You are my happy, my saving grace
Smiling as the morning sun creeps up over the city
Take my hands, never let me go

...

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As I search through the centuries
exploring ancient dynasties
This idea is sown in my head
To see the lives they led, instead
of records, names and dates and times
Imagining their storylines
Dreaming of their loves and sorrows 
Picturing long gone tomorrows

8x8 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: PS Awtry
Date: 8th November 2018
4th placement

Contest ALL YOURS (Jan 22)
Sponsor Brian Strand
N/A...

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The Land Of Royal Monarchs


from the plains we see
the land of royal monarchs 
perched on a hilltop

its architecture
draws us to the heritage 
of the blue blooded 

secret lives of kings
unveiled flamboyancy with
queens and courtesans

heirs of dynasties
dreamed treacheries and murders 
as game for the throne

princely monument
in prime was bereft of love
now gardens tourists

April 20, 2015
For Nayda Ivette Negron...

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Tartaric acid rain of the lost calligraphy
Peels to melt the running emotions
Drains clog beneath dynasties
Commerce to no one in seas
Pourtant je vois ceasefire
See a spark of defiance

Harlequin of belle dame misery
Catatonic brutality ends within me
Phantom of these nigh-mares
Shriek away stares orbs no retinas
Telltale sen em bras lambent
Am I dying nevermore

Mourning my own demises gavotte masquerade
Is that a shimmer of light on my finale...

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I've seen anger
and power
morph into hate.
And nations crumble
under siege,
when religious zealots
free the beast within.
And the blood flows red,
as Death demands an
exorbitant toll
for the fallen soul's
passage into heaven. 
The very wealthy
build their dynasties
by grinding the bones
of naive idealist
and the pious,
into the mortar 
for their monuments 
and crypts of stone.
The apocalypse,
a Martyr’s dream, 
or reality’s
nightmare?...

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Burnt-out myths in the old city
are stitching the lips of people.
Pink walls smell like blood.

Priest is dumb, hoisting the headless
deity on throne. Marigolds
are soaked in flowing tears.

Innocent wheels riding against blast,
stand still to measure
the half-life of seizures.

Cult was spreading in place,
fingers and cells Dynasties inheriting
the bleached fathers.

The ages rot under the sculptors.
We walk on water, wordless, sightless
for the thin hope.


SATISH VERMA...

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