GRAVITY
"As gravity pulls bodies toward Earth's ground, so souls are attracted by God's light."
KNOWLEDGE
"Knowledge of the self opens the gates of transcendental wisdom."
THE LIFE JACKET
"Love is the life jacket that keeps us afloat in the vast ocean of human malice."
IGNORANCE'S SEED
"Ignorance is the seed out of which the tree of malice grows."
© Demetrios Trifiatis
18 April 2026
In bed Don loves wearing his gold
Where billionaire's come to the fold
They need not hold loins
But just buy Trump coins
While we work till we're dead and old
Trump’s deals concern what he can break
It’s how this Don hauls in his take
The rich on him spend
As they must depend
On what they’ve kissed his ass to make
His son’s payoff struck them as bad
Republicans hate Hunter’s dad
But they won’t ascribe
Meme coins as a bribe
And part of Trump’s theft launching pad
You were my mother until I was forty-one.
I was fortunate and lucky to be your son.
December has arrived and Christmas is near.
Life would be better if you were still here.
You were the best woman that I've ever known.
But since you died, I've spent Christmases alone.
If you and I could share another Christmas, it would be great.
But you died over eleven years ago and it was a terrible fate.
I still miss you to this day and that is certainly true.
Have a Merry Christmas, Mom, everybody loves you.
[Dedicated to Agnes Johnson (1948-2013) who passed away on March 6, 2013]
Your death came as a surprise, it certainly wasn't foretold.
If you hadn't died, today you would've turned 76 years old.
I learned that you were terminal shortly before you died.
When your life ended, people were sure to be misty-eyed.
If you were still alive, I'd be spending your birthday with you.
When I say that you had love and respect, it is certainly true.
If you hadn't died, today you would be eating your birthday cake.
When I found you dead, it was almost too much for me to take.
Your death was upsetting, painful and very hard for me to face.
Happy Birthday, Mom, you died and you went to a better place.
[Dedicated to Agnes M. Johnson (1948-2013) who passed away on March 6, 2013]
"Niq kusy ya maaly el basha," I moaned so softly.
"Bizzezz kabira," He said as he kissed the middle of my chest.
He is always the one leaving me feeling at my best.
.
.
.
.
.
.
! ! ! ! ! m a t c h s t i c k s ! ! ! ! ! !
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
An Einaudi 'Le Onde'*
Ludovico waves his introspective wand
'Fleurs et Ceramique'
Henri Matisse with diverse technique
XII
The wife of del Giocondo
made famous by artist leonardo
Da Vincin'Mona Lisa'* with such style
so demure with an enigmatic smile
A gray and white cat sidles up
against the splotchy green dumpster
and meows despite himself.
The plastic lid slams hard at the end
of another long shift. It sounds desperately final
like the North Springs station, or the highest note
of a violin.
Jordan and I locked the Masqerade doors
to find these vampires and learn a bit more;
The night air feels so intimidating,
we have to be ready for anything;
Temperature seems to set off this desire
it feels like my veins have been set on fire;
Insatiable thirst we have to get there,
to hear the tips they are willing to share;
Whipped around the corner of Canal street,
a cafe was where we were told to meet;
I sat down hoping for no mutiny,
walked into some kind of telepathy;
‘Now now there is no need for all this fuss,
Miss Inalem would you like to join us?’
Emerging in the dark,
A pale ghost cast by the moon—
Authenticity—
With the glow of rawness and power
The song of truth so precious
On a tongue that is pressed for
Change—submissive change—
Cradled in the prospects of devotion
The clouds covering the perfect circles
Penetrating through a lens
That magnifies true, imminent light
Of gleaming giants in velveteen skies
Fearless revelations
That accomplish alluring awe
The conundrums of life
Beyond us—beyond words—in us
2.12.20
Note: Those alluring mysteries...in us...if only we knew how to reveal them like the thin clouds reveal the soft circular shape of that glowing moon, as it floats so carefree... yet so purposefully in the sky. I like to compare our vulnerabilities and our abilities to the universe. They are vast, and can reveal such beautiful things about us.
black is a colour - foiled features :
drooling dirge etched'n fostered fracture
gaunt gloom gnawing at lanky light
felon feast munching punctured plight
white is a colour - rare regalia :
fuming florescent feigns filters
bilateral bliss, airy abstract
luminous confetti contract
personality is a fluid
la-de-da lotion smothers clue
apt attributes - alakazam,
damp defilements dripping shudders
crisp colour is then the vessel
personality's the content!
'20:06:04:17:14
Note: of rustic racism.
autumn morning
at the lake little fish
scratch water surface
Vesuvius,
It was a queen fit for a king
unwrapped and placed at the side
giving warmth to a soul
and paths put on hold
hush,
eyes beg for more than more
fires lit are burning long
and sweat has piqued her form
awaiting in the mountain of your lust
bubbling over for the world to see
eyes that see thru the bluest of blues
cloudless nights
your moon lit bright
hush,
for tonight let the angels play
upon colourful rainbows of dreams
of storms laid past
let amazement lead
to love
dripping from the honey of your soul
time will get old but fear not
our arms, our lives
remain entwined
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.