It is true that you just
cannot give an Arian man
too many second chances
Since Chiron has left them
unhealed Aries men seek out
refuge in Venus' champions
Arian women choose self-love
and their fun hobbies instead
of toxic meaningless romances
They'll hold up their swords
and block with their shields
forever blessed by Bellatrix
Note: This is part of my zodiac poetry collection. I wrote it this way because the Chiron in Aries transit challenged their self-worth directly. A lot of them compensate for this, but with time, they'll heal.
Like a dust that has been blown away
If I only had the chance to really say
But I can only stand on the dock of a bay
Within this soul there is a empty world inside
With no one near or anybody far
Not even a single wound or a mere scar
No love, hate or pride
Just a place where I can hide
Cry alone, sit down and gaze at the sky
A perfect world brought on by my mind
Strange that this is not the same outside
If only my mind could let me blend in
Release this soul from the pain
Like the person who was just born again
If I only had the chance to really say
But just like the dust
I've been blown away
Away from the breath of life
Stuck inside this world made up by my mind
A silent peaceful lonely world, island paradise
But I doubt this is the reality I yearned for
This soul just want to go outdoors
Be free and discover the meaning of the real world
But just like the dust
I've been blown away
tormented
teetering on the edge
of insanity
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
I poison myself to endure the torments of my clairvoyant mind,
A journey littered with catastrophes and irreversible scars.
I chase nightmares I will find in hell,
My face drowned in the fleeting vanities humanity sanctifies.
I am in no rush to honor my appointment with the reaper,
Like a terminally ill patient who still dares to dream.
I am trapped in an asylum where appearances and masks
Are the mirrors of madness.
I burn my neurons with cannabis
To find beauty in the ugliness of my surroundings.
My indelible scars are searing reminders of my insignificance.
I have tamed the violence of silence
To anesthetize my demonic urges.
I trust not in human frailty,
Like a bipolar paranoiac.
The darkness of the furnaces of the bearer of light
Shines deep in my eyes.
I am a solitary soul, persecuted
By its demons and ghosts.
The melancholy of my heart has chained
My mind to the depths of bitterness.
My life on Earth has been infernal torture
Since the day I let out my first cry.
I am compelled to sow the seeds of chaos
In this dimension, to unlock the gates of immortality.
A symphony of blasphemies, to discover every fragrance of freedom.
When words have fled there's empty space
That echoes with nothing deemed stellar
No simple idea to embrace
Profundity gone it seems forever.
When chaos of life has intruded
Thoughts scrambled into tangled web
Creativity lost as mind's eye brooded
Blank page ignites emotions reason fled.
Ocean waves ebb and low with ease
Tormented poet desires tranquil pen
Dexterous words make readers believe
Hard-fought verse is legacy for men.
Neither directed nor disciplined
Leading lives of looting and lust
Bullets rain down, they bite the dust
It doesn’t have to be this way...
Though without tribute to a higher ideal
Upon their tormented souls ~ demons prey
The.isolated moon in far arc of her epogee,
As she searches Earth's surface in cold winter's hemisphere,
She bites her tongue of protest of what she will never be,
And throws sharp knives of jealousy into the atmosphere.
In the cold moon's distant musings, her echoes can't be heard,
And but for the crunch of snow, silence waits for morning sun.
A blizzard has filled a reservoir, and so needs prepared,
Yet moon added sparkly diamonds to selfish pleasure's run.
The winter moon shivers with knowledge that her days will end,
And a yellow moon will rise during six months of the year.
The anguished, tormented moon whose dark murmurs now portend,
She will vanquish the yellow moon, and once more reappear.
Tears beyond pour
Heart sour
Anguished words and thoughts
I question my well being
Seeming with no prosper
All I hear is words, but no encouragement
Only just
No must
Standing alone for myself
I am beaten and torn within my own battle
No victory, but defeat
Perhaps I am scornful and doubtful
Life on end
I yell but my voice echoes back
I shout for help
It became a yield
Some see it as useless and no pity
The until for too long
The Heaven’s see me as wonderful
I see myself dreadful
I thirst, but can’t drink
My mind wanders into no think
I am like a dead rose with no suppose
Death seems to be my trademark
One scar into numerous
Tormented no more.
In the bitterness of my soul
I wept sore in my solitude
Wallowing in my sorrowful spirit
I lost the sense of my whole
For how long shall I continue in this service?
For how long shall you torment my spirit?
Your words have become like a dagger to my heart
Piercing it into pieces on a daily basis
Your actions have become like a sledgehammer to my heart
Smashing and breaking it on a daily basis
Is this the love you promised me?
Is this the sweetness that you portrayed to my family and friends?
Or, have I been scammed
Again?
Although I am gone you will remember my name.
Although I am gone I will still cause you pain.
Although I am gone I'm there when you dream.
Although I am gone I can still make you scream.
Although I am gone I can still cause you sorrow.
Although I am gone you will have peace tomorrow.
Although I am gone you will remember my smell.
Although I am gone I can still reach you from HELL.
World-weary, war-torn, weather-beaten
A poet is but a beleaguered soul,
A hopeless wanderer, a rootless wayfarer
Misunderstood often
Misinterpreted, ridiculed
Scorned by his lady luck
Spurned by his muse,
Wizard of imagination
reigning over a fantasy land,
He’s of a ragged spirit
striving to shape an ideal world,
A Spartan without a spear
A warrior without a weapon
Yet equipped to inflict a fatal wound,
Never home when opportunity comes aknocking,
No stranger to passion
Yet true love eludes him—
Perennially lovelorn
Forever forlorn!
That’s all there’s in store for you
if you decide to be a poet.
~10/07/22
~A Brian Strand Premiere Choice Contest.
~Contest: X'd Second Chance Poetry
~Sponsor: Constance La France.
Coffee, notebook and specs
Writing madly what the heck.
Caffeine keeps eye open wide
Giving sigh my poem dies.
Scribbling with mad delight
Crazy pen's taken flight
In Essence 2
Poetry Contest
Photograph No:5
Sponsored
by
Joseph May
In the depths of depravity we find ourselves shackled by our own misinformation and uncertainties.
Left with a reminder of times of old and good yet decaying and tarnished.
Thoughts of love, of hate coupled like some twisted nightmare waiting for the morning wake.
Reflected only as a constant mnemonic apparition of what was and will never be again....
Bite Size Poem no6
I woke to the raucous roaring of beasts braying in the night
Creepy things crawling over my body. I cringed at the sight
I fought off diabolic demons who tried to devour my heart
Shadows snared me; I was tormented with troubled thought
Phantoms played on pauper's graves 'til my pulse grew weak
I was petrfied with fear, knowing my death they'd soon seek!
Ghosts and ghouls wailed at me, and scratched upon the walls
I cowered under the quilt when werewolves howled in the halls
October 25, 2020
8 Lines of Spooky Rhyme
Contest sponsor: Tania Kitchin
We no longer love life,
The way it's worth it,
There was a sickness in the soul,
Which makes my heart ache.
Life has been devalued by us,
Forgetting about the miracle forever,
Someone was brought up so easily,
But life is not given to everyone!
We live tormented by thoughts,
"What if life is everything?",
Then we will become consumers
And nothing will save us.
We are careful with words,
We are afraid to say to ourselves,
That life is not created by us,
That life is a series of miracles.
Life is crazy at times,
But it is wonderful even then,
It is woven with wondrous dreams,
Which we don't remember sometimes.
Life is as fragile as porcelain,
And you need to learn thrift,
But we do not focus on this,
We live in eternal haste.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.