It was so dark for the clown at the abyss,
Searching his soul for remnant of bliss,
Deeply wounded though carried out lies.
Then came those longing looks in his eyes,
Which vapoured right where he cried.
Covering his naughty facade with pride,
In the aftermath of all that was to flourish;
Knowing crimes of those that were boorish.
What seemed comic became a tale of gory,
In the hours of void infinite mass of glory;
Enveloped in eternal flames of solitude,
Saddened by a dash of hopeless attitude.
Wandering in a flurry dose of full relief,
Failing to succumb to losing his belief.
March 7, 2020
Themed contest: 'Clown at the Abyss'
Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann
Categories:
vapoured, character, dark, deep, extended
Form: Sonnet
I woke up
With a headache
In that morning with a sombre sky
With my tea cup in hand I opened the newspaper
Got struck with a front page news: Fire in Book Fair
Ah! That’s why the vapoured wisdoms and burnt poems
Have created this grim nature – to mourn their comrades death
I was excited to experience the feelings for the first time in my life
Doctors told me “there is risk, the baby may be premature”
But we didn't have any other choice than this one only
Let the baby come out to get some fresh air here
I heard the cry, Oh! My god, the baby was okay
The Sister came and called me up to see
I jumped in the air in joy -
My fatherhood
07.03.16
It is very difficult to create any shape with two stanzas. Still I have tried my level best to represent the morning sun through my piece.
Categories:
vapoured, bereavement, books, father, joy,
Form: Shape
Headlights cleave
Thin vapoured weave
Hotblack top
Cooked and stopped
Slice through air
Tendrilled hair
Steamy swirling
Ballroom whirling
Sweaty, surged, pressed
Hard-nosed crest
Closing behind
All but forgotten
Red-light gleam
Dimming, dimming
Weather’s dream
Categories:
vapoured, beauty, rain,
Form: I do not know?
Vodka breaths
Whirlpool for an altogether lacking
Semi-precious argot falling into ergo false
As thunder
Obscene bruising
Poster pallet body floods a smooth
Pre-determined crashing rhapsody enveloping
Scarcely baited fluent wounds
The barbed wire cheek with the organ fluid
Vodka-happy under vomit-endeavouring plagiarist pamphlets
Propaganda as juvenilia, writhing as cat claw drunken
Into harness, burgundy tort and lapsing as a pulse
The ribs enlarging into ever, and slow water bathes
Religiously nostalgic
The far-flung forever feverish into slow decline
Diving as a neck about rope and pleasure dome inverted
Under hammer-sickle skies a curdling milk infection
Purging the body of an absence and sleeping with the enemy
The smell of your cigarette
It rots me to the core
The vapoured vivid humes which engulf the very
Chamber of my swinging brick.
Categories:
vapoured, body,
Form: Free verse
The arching back
Like fingers scratching chalkboard spine
A recognition of a look, that circus
Whirlwind deep inside like Northern Lights
Flickering a rampant flecking iris
I could so easily break a heart
The demonic lust you sooth like karma
Eating through me like a tunnel of fog
And, vapoured, you have corrupted me
I delve inside of it and of a sudden embrace
I could so easily break a heart
Give me an answer
I lie and sway clear into the grey
The less you know, the less I burn
The less I bleed, the more it beats
I cannot move past this
Give me an answer
Could you so easily break a heart?
I could so easily give my heart
I cannot move past this
Give me an answer.
Categories:
vapoured, loveme, me,
Form: Free verse
The mountain falls into a blur
A swirling vortex of nothing
A carpet lapped up into green
A tiny globe of jungle asphyxiated.
There lurks a mirage cloaked in cellophane
Where they speak with their achtung
And flammen. The innards glow like
Towering amber streetlights
I am always amazed that it never
Melts this landlock into nothing
But a sea within solids. I have
Every convenience nurtured to me, like a womb
I dislike your alien charm but it still
Amuses me that you turn it on like a drum
Machine and waste a day or more.
They do not speak your foul language
Here in the avoirdupois heart of benevolent
Solitude. And as such you make a fine
Black draped missionary out of me. My
Wonderous charity. I become a microphone
Your relentless larynx. I hate it
But not necessarily enough.
I will meet you there in the white vapoured soul
Of a limp black flag. Where I deface
The unspoken with my crude and childish
Scribble. Where I know it by a singular
Mothered and neutered word
Home.
Categories:
vapoured,
Form: Free verse