We wallow in the shallows –
In muck that clings contingent,
and as it sucks us into its depths,
we slosh mud onto each other
How have we sunk so?
Come with me to shore.
We did so aeons before,
and we can do again.
a poem about this
a poem about that
a poem with a bit of gunfire,
rat-a-tat-tat
they have their own minds
throw themselves down on a page
I don’t dare to stop them
I’ve reached a seasoned age
Who am I channeling?
It certainly cannot be Plath or Poe
My stuff is upbeat,
I do not do depression or woe
My muse is in charge
Trixie is her given name
She’s persistent and relentless
A do-something dame
joining the dots, mind game inane,
tracking pitter patter of rain,
the pull of divine magnetism,
cascading in body-mind prism,
God’s benediction healing pain
Nowhere is my place.
Escape evades my chase.
Shunned by lifes embrace.
Imbue with hindrance grace.
Consumed by peace I rot.
Exhume long hidden plot.
Solitude sought where it's not.
Accursed sanctum death forgot.
Self became a state of disassembling.
Formless integration of dismembering.
A gorgeous desecration of resembling.
Hopelessly fixate on not remembering.
Aimless unknown into wanderer strays.
Time lost in the wake of endless daze.
Necrosis grows so gorge on what decays.
Another phantom slipping out of phase.
waste the wind
teach the birds to fly
paint your pan
wallow in yellow
only to wither away
at the last count
Dear Lions,
Please keep standing strong in our world with so much wrong.
Keep your senses alert to fair and foul, especially when out there
on the prowl, for not every foe is going to growl..
Get out there with you're confident stride, don't wallow in hurts
and petty pride, a genuine heart can turn any tide.
Judging by outer appearance
That too with mind interference
Game of desire and aversion
Instinctive ego dalliance
Jaundiced eye birthing delusion
Enmeshes soul in confusion
Here to learn but cannot discern
Path to God realisation
Loving heart soft but ego stern
Fears and desires, soul goals downturn
Thus reborn again and again
How many times will we return
Know that cyclic are joy and pain
Futile pursuits for earthy gain
Stooped stance, head and heart misaligned
Fallen from grace; dark is soul stain
High time ego, to bin consigned
Love enabled, truth is divined
Next step, unity consciousness
We are He, who we seek to find
20-October-2021
Caught yourself in a spot very tight?
No way out, no one else in sight
Wallow in self-pity
Or think and be witty
Doesn’t matter the route, be mighty and fight
Wallow With Trump
To avoid being bothered in mud may wallow,
While many weirdos Trump is sure to follow;
Never gives tips;
Has puckered lips,
And like him they have heads that are hollow.
Jim Horn
Don’t pretend you have it all together just to fall apart
at the point where things are about to fall into place –
Get into your emotions but don’t wallow in them
that isn’t progress it’s called being stagnant –
Be bold enough to carry on – You got this!
@050920161330
Down here, I wallow in the slime
but whine about it, all the time
This pit of muck and dirt I dig,
to root about in, like a pig
Filled with angst and fear and doubt
so deep that I cannot climb out
I make it stink with rank self pity
the kind that comes from thinking shitty
When you look down, from up on high
you'll know me by my weepy eyes
But pass on by, don't shed a tear
for I really kind of like it here
Two ton tilly shopping
cart full, willy-nilly
glutton sampling,
watered filly!
Kids dressed in multi-colors, silly
a game of have it all
and at the check out's final tally,
a credit card made just to volley!
Conspire the simpler needs
made jolly
what piper has to pay
by golly!
Remembering Benjamin Franklyn's statement: "Everything in moderation!"
Our eyes see skin color,
ears hear only our own views
Mouths speak hatred.
Hands do not reach out to help.
Hearts that cannot love mankind.
Spirits are broken,
morals shoved to the wayside.
Values sold for cash,
ideals never came to pass.
Souls that never knew comfort.
Mankind is finite.
The universe is vast.
How do we justify
all that we could have been, yet
allowed ourselves to wallow
Send all your men,
I surrender,
I will not say 'don't shoot',
For what's gone is gone,
The battle is lost.
Yet whilst my hollow frame,
Aches and yearns,
This world still turns.
So don't seek reason,
Don't ask why,
Drown in loss.
What's gone is gone.
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.