Quiritation, quintessence.
Quirister, chime in.
Sickle moon, slivered crescents.
Harvest, glitter grin.
Quickening, quill? Quoth, quotum?
Grapes of wrath, red tide?
Shelter well, velarium!
Vinomadefied!
Viscid, visibilia?
Victrix, vair, vespoid.
Squirrel, thin ice? About me thaw!
Wasp, be paranoid!
Balefire, baetyl, bedaggle.
Ballyhoo bold, bagarre.
Nacre, naiad? Ne'er naggle!
Baisemain? Bizarre!
Blind bandelet? Binausic.
Belie, binaural beat.
Baragouin, barbette brick!
Blind, basiation? Bleat!
Best, bathysphere? Bathysmal.
Batrachian bateleur.
Ailed, apathy? Abysmal!
Bought ticket, took tour!
Abased or abacinate?
What is left to see?
Death and Doom, dread not thy date!
Just move in with me!
Abodement, abnegation?
Bad omens to renounce?
Chaos, cold is creation!
Pound, buy not the ounce....
I couldn't see it
Blame the way the viscid blackness
Of your soul
Exterminates the sunlight
Couldn't feel it
Sinking in your tar like sand
And blowing bubbles
Like a boiling child
Not loved enough to understand
That living
Isn't the same as having something
To survive
these petals unfold
like thoughts of mind
heavy as the weight they bear
this benumbed september day
in the crux beyond a seed's gather
viscid drops of crimson red
carried off by wings of time
now daffing in the cooler air
the hive of mind
through torturous stings of past
grounds me thickset
in honey coated memories
i still taste the poison
lingered from your lips
bitterness of venomous lies
through death's astringent kiss
my love for you, it tarries
no greater than the buzz
amidst these dandelions
stomped upon your grave
September 4, 2019
Where Bumbles Bounce Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Craig Cornish
My mind is like kinetic energy
At times when my creative energy
Flows at higher frequencies
And I sense the excitement of my poetry
Grow into something I hope is inspiring
To everyone who's interested in reading
The fluctuating thoughts that resonate through me
On levels of conscious and subconscious realms of beliefs
And that just seem to carry me
As the words flow from me
Like automatic writing I have no ability
To control what is expelled and spilt in viscid ink
Upon the page like I am bleeding
It's like I've opened a vain and now blood, joy and page
Flooding the blankness like like a monsoon on a summers day
The light and love
The angst the rage
Fill up all of the empty space upon the page
And leaves my mind buzzing
As the static that was owning
Every bit of who I am
A poet?
An artist?
No just and everyday average working man
Turning his hand
To poetry
To either succeed
Or be damned.
Such piteous night, as when last I came
and felt the sorrow of this lonely game.
You entered my life not so long ago.
I let you in, so, I’m the one to blame,
and now your heart is all that I know.
Though hideous, the threshold of life’s pain
emerges as I meander in vain,
steeped in hollow thoughts of what we’ve been through.
If not for you I would have gone insane,
now, you’ve left me unsure of what to do.
The cold bloodstained moon peeks slow and timid
through to light my way, each wane step viscid,
resisting my movements as if the dark
left my weary mind mangled and stupid
compelling our fate to be deathly stark.
Now you are but a living memory,
A conception of what our life could be,
but instead you have made the choice to stray
from the path that could set our poor hearts free,
and with your indifference, thrown it away.
I want you to know that there could be more
If you but allow me to knock at your door,
yet, it seems as though your decision’s made,
and the time has come, my dismal amour,
it’s locked away in my heart’s barricade.
10/10/2017
Loss is intrusive
Deafening in its presence,
Intractable in its longevity,
Intimidatory in its fearfulness.
Boldly it gives rise to emptiness,
Serving no master!
Wishes scattered abroad for encompassing
memories long gone,
Experiences indelibly imprinted!
Kindnesses, love, lifetimes gone;
Dreams, notions, passions unfurled;
Missions, relationships, friendship alone
Reveal viscid qualities to a persona hurled.
.
I closed this book when you left last night
mine colleen
waking to your dried sweat
stuck to mine
thus your hirsute lover’s brain sparked
and mine digit’s again
began to dance
My hair
gnarled
it's entire length viscid with
ourn mix
remnants of your moist lip’s
scent the mask of mine face
and the ringlet's of your long tresses
adorn this chest
Mine lair found it’s empty
not
mine thoughts
Nocturnal
Dismiss my harbingers of dread to flight
Banish all foes, old hallmarks of fretting, fraught, despair
I will shutter away those loathsome ghouls from sight
I will rob the keepers of the night
Those winds that circle wild in restless air
Dismiss my harbingers of dread to flight
When anxious thoughts arise to wage the fight
with tangled webs, they weave a viscid snare
I will shutter away those loathsome ghouls from sight
I flex my weary wings, against the morning light
Ignore the mocking of my hallowed fear
Dismiss my harbingers of dread to flight
The night is long, the darkness grip holds tight
and keeps the axis of the world a tilted sphere
I will shutter away those loathsome ghouls from sight
Oh bless sweet sleep, you welcomed, winsome sprite!
When last you bring my dreams to slumbered fair
Dismiss my harbingers of dread to flight
I will shutter away those loathsome ghouls from sight
Destiny
Sordid, shoddy succubus
Culled consciousness
Mottled, beguiled muse
Hungry for hope
An eruption of erudition
To be showered with praise
Cleansed pride
Chloroformed strife
Where dreams tease unkempt hair
And eulogize tear stained verse
Sacrificed on stripped oak altars
Trembling hostages of insatiable sermons
Sterile sunrises
Mourned by cramped, fertile fingers
I pray to my paranoia of invasion
Voices
Viscid footsteps
Shadows of salvation
Which pass without query
Again
Chortling echoes of obtuse obituaries
As I lie shackled to tomes of obscurity
Tortured
Starving
Undiscovered
Dead
I swallow the sword of silence
reading contours of curvaceous blithe
trying to understand words like life
forsaken like a child on Christmas morn
fingertips of time tiptoeing down my back
as I stare into muted mirrors of bitter black
She lies in weightless wait
snuggled with virtue of viscid fate
sterile surroundings of unmitigated plight
still believing in truth and eternal love
oblivious to tines of tears above
piercing my heavy heart
Her faith never sleeps
when I sometimes forget to breathe
pounding footsteps terrorizing me
praying in shadows trying to collect my fears
knowing that tomorrow grows ever near
like the hand she once gave me
I do not believe in choice
sacrificing hope for the pain of remorse
doctors whispering what cannot be sung
compressions of vows in lifeless lungs
As I kiss lips that smiled but days before
Knowing I can never say…no more
Blue stone grovelled in mud,
wet viscid and and dirty mud,
no one knew where water poured in from,
nobody was there to stop it hence,
it had crushed the earth,
made it soft and humid,
it had drilled hole,
and widened it broad,
and now was eating sides,
loosening mud,
and making the muck,
this blue stone had loosened,
from the water attack,
and fell down,
with no jack,
from its earthly rack,
now water worked on mud,
and mud on stone,
god knows for many days,weeks and months,
the scene had remained the same,
a philosopher doing the round,
saw it every now and then,
and wondered when,
the stone will get bleached,
philosopher had to see his last,
and died his death,
the stone held the color fast.
Viscid,
Black,
Highly spoonable.
Floating,
Submerged,
Gellid pieces.
Flotsam,
Jetsam,
Relics of life?
Putrescent,
Vaporous,
Motifs of death.
Ubiquitous,
Ignored,
Feast for vultures.
the bell rang in a sharp chime,
piercing the viscid night slime,
and alerted many nearby,
who were busy in crimes,
they bolted and ran,
and vowed to keep the bell in mind,
the next time they did the crime.
I stepped ahead,
Only to sink,
The ground was quicksand,
And up ahead marshy land,
The mire was viscid and fatal,
I was down till knees,
My hands rose up,
Looking for a grip,
I found only vacuum,
I was sinking for sure and prim,
My feet felt terribly soft,
As if they were planted aloft,
Inches grew on my legs,
I had seeped in till waist,
Now my legs were disconnected,
I felt the quagmire working faster,
It was enveloping like a body plaster,
I felt its weight on chest,
I began praying for the best,
My nostrils gave a shudder,
As foul gas geyser went up my nose,
As if climbing a ladder,
It was now neck,
My hand still raised for a heck,
I still cannot recall,
What the crap tasted like,
As it forced me in a bite,
It was about to blur my vision,
Suddenly somebody came,
And made the tragedy a game,
Soon I was pulled out,
And thanked them aloud,
Life still leaves me in similar states,
I still get somebody to heave my crate,
I wonder what might happen,
When we leave others flailing and flappin.
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.