Men forever falling In an upward trajectory Coddled and enabled By patriarchal society
Spoiled little baby boys Never educated beyond Their own expectations And how their fathers would respond
Unable to face facts Unused to quality thinking Cultural acceptance Sees the population shrinking
Half the children useless The other half without success Societies in chains One hundred per cent in distress
Monkey see, monkey do It’s a man-child evolution XY chromosome death Maybe the only solution
The patriarchal privilege in Thai society disgusts me and both women and men are suffering because of it. The solution proffered here is extreme because I don’t know how it can be fixed. I am a useless man-child myself.
Airs punctured by gasoline, a perfume of our cancers; shout out, the suffering scream louder than any answers.
Once unseen, I will surprise; smash me, I will not succumb; bitter salts anaesthetise, remaining forever numb.
Stagnant water starts to clear passing through old time’s filter; endlessly, year after year, re-righting the Earth’s kilter.
I meditate in silence, breathing calmly, taking stock; to counteract the violence, I am an island, a rock.
Submitted for a final AllPoetry assignment. I tried to incorporate the senses into this poem more than I would normally do. This whole poem is also inspired by an Alan Watts quote:
“As muddy water is best cleared by leaving it alone, it could be argued that those who sit quietly and do nothing are making one of the best possible contributions to a world in turmoil.”
For the last line – apologies to Simon and Garfunkel.
Syllable count per line – quatrain : 7 Rhyme scheme: Quatrain – alternating rhyme and Cinquain Rhyme types: mostly perfect rhyme Personification: I am a rock! Senses: smell (gasoline/perfume), sound (shout/scream), sight (unseen) touch (smash me/numb), taste (bitter salts) Alliteration: shout/suffering/scream, any/answers, unseen/surprise/smash/succumb Assonance: shout out/louder, unseen/surprise/succumb, stagnant/starts, I/silence, meditate/in, counteract/the, am/an/a Consonance: salts anaesthetise, re-righting Metaphor/simile: The first stanza is a metaphor for the chaos of the world. ‘Once unseen’ – rocks are not something noticed but always there. ‘Bitter salts’ – lick a rock, it tastes salty. ‘Numb’ – rocks have no feelings. “passing through old time’s filter” – mineral water cleaned as it passes through rocks. “re-righting the Earth’s kilter” – no matter what mankind does, the Earth will sort itself out.
Written for W3 Prompt #160: Pick a single abstract noun that carries weight, mystery, or tension for you—something like liberty, danger, truth, love, exile, justice, forgiveness, joy, grief, silence… Don’t use it until your poem’s final line. Start each line with a description or action that leads us toward the noun, not from it. This is called left-branching syntax—it means delaying the main subject or verb. You’re working with delay, accumulation, and unfolding. The noun you’ve chosen arrives only at the end. Until then, build around it, toward it, beneath it. Let readers feel its shape before they hear its name. From Deepseek: The word “opia” is a fascinating and relatively obscure abstract noun that captures a very specific, almost paradoxical feeling. It refers to the ambiguous intensity of eye contact—that unsettling, electric sensation when you lock eyes with someone, and the moment feels both intimate and invasive, vulnerable and powerful.
Constant communiqués of despair The end of times always kept in mind The hollow rings of Happy New Year Distracting us from our daily grind We become living embodiments Of the catastrophes we’ve foretold Trapped within these dark environments Hopes are fading for the dreams we’re sold
Embolden the heart! Be courageous! Inspire action to defend the world Sell, not be sold to, is contagious Flags of faith, hope and courage unfurled Hope becomes the energy of change A radical audacious duty With optimism, we can arrange Our thoughts towards a life of beauty
This word I give myself I gift to you The label on the package I’ve told as true Has captured the infinite To be contained Now nought but a thought Easily explained
A paraphrasing of this quote
As soon as you believe that a label you’ve put on yourself is true, you’ve limited something that is literally limitless, you’ve limited who you are into nothing but a thought.
Another attempt at dVerse Quadrille #224 – quiet, this time inspired by a couple of other existing entries, one from Punam, whose line I reversed in the third stanza and one from Lona, who introduced the Divided Quadrille and so I thought I’d give it a crack!
Pick me up or put me down, I’m not the clown you believe It’s the real me coming through, not the person you perceive
Form: Awdl Gywydd
Four lines Seven syllables per line The final syllable of the first and third lines rhyme with the 3rd-5th syllable of the following lines The second and fourth lines rhyme.
1994ever 