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Best Poems Written by Poet Tellaferro

Below are the all-time best Poet Tellaferro poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Poet Tellaferro Poem

A Quiet River

Along a quiet river to nowhere were styx lean like broken crosses. The wind is gentle with a sent of quite decay or is that brimstone in these sinister currents, that spin! A black river between two lands, one of shadows n tombstone and bright sunny skies. The vail is thin...

I terry at the edge of this vast leviathanic river stretching, to pear into shades of deepest waters, were dark things swim... Only fractual waves driven by soft sinister currents, stured by a wind sented with night shade or is that delicate decay. I see things best left unsaid or unseen, in depths of fathomless league’s, I see white orbs teathered to white strings?

Each orb swims into view, eyeless sockets of skulls form out of the gloom, those white lines are bones bare brittle, cling to flesh, as my horror knows no bounds. I stumble back, full of terror, a foul taste, the sinister air brings the strange tinge of brimstone to bare.

Resting to gather my wits, I hear the clack if bones and creek of ores, I squint into the endless a gray cloudy distance, far away, lightening dance! A white shape, in a flowing shadows darkest cloak, flaps in the growing sinister air!

A creek of ferry ores, drifting soundlessly to my ears on oblivions waves. There in the distance, the specter of all humanities fears.

Something wicked this way comes… A grinning facade, a false glee. Only hollows of lifeless sockets, stare back endlessly bleak. The hood only obscures the knowing doom. The skeletal wings drap the reapers shallow form. Rags of the dead flap sinister n silent.

I can stand and only stare, my mouth goes dry, as I can not understand why. What am I seeing, how can this be, this thing I see leagues out to sea? A vision of death, an intagable concept made flesh, before my eyes, my mind wants to takes its leave. I stumble in disbelief. I land on my back, kicking up dead dust, digging rocks or bones into my exposed back.

A sound alien, the distance creek of the coming darkness in alien form, aboard a ferry creeps.

The Screech of breaks. Suddenly! Like a thunderclap out of the blue...

Across the river where Styx’s lean like broken crosses, I see a city rise before my sight a city full of night. lt strobes red and blue and white. I see figures moving too and frow. EMT, Fire, Police, crowds gather like a murder of crows.

Standing, rubbernecking, wanting to watch, gawaking at this accident, a crash of trucks, cars, burning! I see my body there on the macadam bleeding as the Para’s attend me. I look into the city full of darkness, a broken chess board of midnight n white squares. Feeling the Doom Light!

I blink, tears run as a world blurs in watery imagery. I see friends n family swim out of my history. I see my life rush in a breeze of fire and ice. All my loves ,my hates, my bitter memories and rare brightest spots, brighter than most. Flare! Dowsed to black and gray runny feelings. I cling to what I see. As the seas of endless darkest comes to envelop me.

I glance back at the dark figure out on the rivers eves, now pulled to shore of this river of infinity. Were styxs lean like broken crosses n fractal waves driven by soft sinister currents.

A grinning facade, a false glee. Only the hollows of lifeless sockets, stare endlessly back, black and full of mortal doom. The bones glow softly in the darkest light under a tattered hood, as deaths rags flap in a sinister breeze. The horror that stands before me with with an out stretched hand, bones glowing softly in the doom light, reaching....

And since I was too busy to stop for death, death kindly stopped for me…

Details | Poet Tellaferro Poem

Once I Dreamed a Little Dream

it was of someone I once knew
but I did not yet know 
it was of love and kindness 
a union of spirit a familiar soul 
but this was only a dream 
drifting in my night 
my heart takes flight 
during summers sad moments 
all alone in dreams dreamt of you 
I feel you I know you or how you are not
this dream will linger in my heart 
when I awake the sadness returns
a bittersweet feeling of losing something 
unknown in a dream
like the drops of doom 
I could not shake years 
of isolation from my heart 
deep in my soul
were I not to chase the dream 
Would I not know the love of divinities' devotion?
If I don’t try…
…could I survive the inevitable
empty Room…
A soul takes when love breaks.
I pondered why you were sent 
once I found someone 
a time long ago
Someone to have N to hold 
someone I never knew 
I was afraid of it 
afraid it would feel small n fall away 
like my dreams dreamt along the way 
and I will feel weak and lie awake 
wondering why
I would walk in the afterthoughts of you
I awake with the sadness 
from a Dream, I once Dreamt 
of you or someone I thought I knew
It will return as bittersweet feelings
I could not scrub away 
the feelings like bitter thick dew, 
maybe that was my fear
bloody and cruel, 
I could not run from dreams dreamt of you
Afraid it would break a fragile image of you
until I woke and that feeling did not flee
Was not fragile or fleeting like morning dew
As this was reality  
a dark but sweet feeling 
I felt memory cover me
I try not to flee 
I did not want to shake 
your future visions free
As you are sold real mine to hold
years still come and go 
always something new 
And now I will dream a different dream 
of one spent forever with you

Details | Poet Tellaferro Poem

Maybe It Is Death

Darkening of the land of man
Shadows pool into wells as gloom
Solidify into the things best left unseen 
A thing from a different realm
A different reality 
The coming Doom.
A realm between what is known and unseen
We are of this life 
We are in the weakening world
The walkers in daylight
Maybe its’s death
But we are only one side of the coin
We are of one world and our souls the other
The only thing that keeps the worlds apart 
A thing unseen as thin as smoke 
An elusive as a shadow.
Maybe its’s death
Not much separates the two
A heartbeat away
A second reaction
A Fatal attraction 
A crash, a drowning, pull of the trigger 
A moment in between one thing 
And the next a season of shadows 
or light everlasting.
Maybe its’s death, maybe not
What is the difference?
The thin veil between realities
A shifting between the seen and unseen 
In one moment we are talking to our love
The next they are gone beyond where we can transverse
maybe it is Death?
Or a voyage we sea in deep dreams.
Darkening of the land of man
Shadows pool into wells as gloom
Solidify into the things best left unseen 
A thing from a different realm
A different reality 
A realm between what is known and unseen…
The coming Doom.

Details | Poet Tellaferro Poem

Empire Down I

Sing this song of immortality 
This rhythm of life lived in neuro fire
Feel the tone of deep oscillations
Taste the song on tongues divided!

The rise of empire 
The building of the divine 
The godhood of man at the base of creation 
Crucified on crosses of iron, 
Feeling electric columns of fire!

So sing this song of empire and redemption 
Sing the righteous song of rage 
Feeling the rhythm of ages 
Immortality of wings
Rise this jade n gold filigreed crown
Grace this delicate stage
Sing! 

This empire down
Watch the west the coming white
The empress of non & nothing begun
Watch the razored ravens take flight 
Sing! 

This empire down 
This rhythm n rage of life as neurons fire
Crash this bloody ruined crown
Sing this song of immortality!

This!
The righteous song of rage 
Feeling the rhythm of ages 
Empire down!

Details | Poet Tellaferro Poem

Alabaster White

Alabaster white, brazen in bold 
can’t be bought or sold!

Silent as it is Sinister 
somehow that alabaster glows?

Surface, a bony texture; cracks, fissures 
like something living once long ago 
in antediluvian halls…

A house sits in its red marrow, bone-white walls!
not knowing tomorrow only knowing what is heralded 
of bone white, gold intricate 
filagree serpentine, imagery!

Of alabaster, old brazen n bold like cast bronze figurines 
of unknown deities calling out 
to touch fingers tips… 

Caress, seeing the texture of bones
cracks n fissures like ancients skulls at rest
this thing of alabaster, cold!
Silently sitting sinisterly.

…alabaster bold somehow defies eons that fold 
alabaster white blazing of an unknown…disaster!                                                       

Cryptic life resting in antediluvian wombs  
a forgotten world borrowed deep 
in the red marrow…tombs!

forgotten by tomorrow pushing faster 
unknown, cold, old encrusted in 
  Ancient 
   ...Alabaster

Details | Poet Tellaferro Poem

Perpetual War

A shadow with no source burns across horizons, 
no dawn where smoke curls forgotten languages, 
lost dust clings to bones of cities, nameless 

heartbeat between silence and scream
the sky shivers, heavy with the weight of iron 
raindrops of dreams unmade
fields of blown glass, nothing grows

beneath a bruised, indifferent sun
the winds a cacophony of regrets
humanity wounded, as coffins rise

footsteps disturb the ash of memories
faces seeing, hands reaching for nothing
forever lost in distant flames 

when will it end 
in the hum of machines
in the clink of a child’s toy
forgotten in the ruins
reflection of a soldier's eyes
where once were forests 
reaching to stars, 

only the hollow echo of thunder 
remains, moments devour the next
the taste of burnt futures

sung by broken wings
scattered like shrapnel across
sky splintered, jagged, eternal

a churning burn
were the dead never die
clouds are stitched with fire
blooms like black flowers

in the soil of our days 
roots coiling around 
the bones of tomorrow’s children.

splinters of a distant peace
scattered like broken stars 
across these old wounds

smoke dances between shadows
of sin, suffering, smoldering rage
a flag heavy with too many sorrows

threads unraveling, a widow's pain
ghosts of what might have been

in the distance, the horizon flickers
in tomorrows, we will never reach.

Details | Poet Tellaferro Poem

Black Sun Version I

Black Sun’s crypt sands,
feeling infernal crimson winds 
ancient galleon sail
Across a brutal bloody land.
Setting on Jagged black
Shores casting far into golden 
Halo’s, burning the horizon cold.

Details | Poet Tellaferro Poem

Woman of the Wasteland I of III

As I wash these dishes. 
I wash the wishes 
from these tired and ruined hands. 

I look out into the street 
with a thousand yard stare
Eyes lost glazed bare…
I see my children playing 
in these dirty and broken streets 
in an iron wasteland. 

They know nothing of fields
oceans
flowers
or a brilliant sun.

They only know towers of glass, chrome, 
burning cars, n broken neon bars. 
As muddy dark clouds gather, 
ash drifts, trash litters here n there.

Dry thunder rumbles. 
Fragments of yesterday tumbles 
solemnly aloft in desolations winds. 

So with each cruel word.
With each hand across my face…
fuels my hate. 
With each blow each loathsome glance… 

I feel something drying, cracking falling…
Each lie from his lips drives devotion away.

I slice the dry Rye. 
Look out onto the street 
to see my little boys at play…

I need to leave these wasted lands. 
These wastelands of cold hard stares n cruel innuendos…
that hurt like fist across the back of the belove.

I cry each day.
I die a little along the way. 
I die each minute of the passing hour. 

Stones, drop into this broken heart. 
Each stone builds a wall of isolation. 
I drown in the well of bottomless desolation. 

As I look out in to desolations boulevard
I wash these cracked and dirty dishes and wash these wishes from these raw hands n watch my children run in play…

…this iron wasteland.

Details | Poet Tellaferro Poem

We Dream of Rain I

We dream of rain 
in a dry season 
under the setting sun
We harvest bitter grains, 
Embittered flesh.
Under a tyrannical son, 
we dream of rain in a harsh summer of discontent. 
We watch the harsh mistress of the empirical sun. 
The seeding of the plains 
a White House on desert sands. 
Where a figure fighting the storms stands
in a black dress in a bone-white land. 
The reapers machine burns on the horizon edge
The cold hard weight of a gun. 
My spirit has fled, my wound had bled
We dwell in a madding season in some American empire…

Reprise I

Details | Poet Tellaferro Poem

A Fever Fugue

Light crashes sounds like brittle glass 
Slashes shards across my worn aching eyes 
The colors reak of deep rot like blues 
Creeping green burning acidic sounds
In my ears like the Smell of some dead deity 

The tang of the streets are bright
gay they clash with the screaming 
red halls of my inner cell walls 
the shadows are toxic 
the smell of death is erotic 
loud like the soft pain…
 
I feel this sound, the sound of hells engine raging across my soul light drips like electric oxygen down my hands like a blood I once felt running slowly away as I lie here the world screams 

Crying, the fever is high I burn with electric suicide 
The colors I inhale dig deep into my eyes 
I can hear the meats rotting in the sink 
I know not the time as I move in my world sublime 
All is dieing keeping rythum to the world
I feel myself drifting…
                  maybe tomorrow
                           I may go…
                                  As I stay….