Poem / Poetry – “A Diverse Culture”

Howdy folkerinos.

I’ve had a poem that sadly did not chart in a competition – please forgive me, I think I have something in my eye…. ;(


[Men – stand tall with me – don’t be afraid to cry!]

Yes, I know what you are thinking.

That’s exactly what I would have done to the judges too.

Wait, what? Throw pepper in their eyes? Blimey, I only meant give them a stern talking too, you folks need to calm down a little, too much chocolate over Easter I think!

It must be said however that I still feel I am a winner, if I get to publish my work and share it with all of you for your mutual appreciation.

Thank you for reading and feel free to comment if you like it.

A Diverse Culture (by David Ellis)

We brew up a storm in the Autumn shade
All of the masks that we wear, when afraid
Cast asunder from the cooking pot of shame
The leaves from the trees look on in disdain

When there is nothing left to say or sigh
A pink carnation winks its sleepy eye
And transforms into an illustrious beast
Rising high into the sky like wild yeast

When the world turns and the pot spins, spins, spins
Incorporating the many colours of your vivid dreams
Yours is an opulent ocean in a perpetual storm
Shadows ache as they twist, crawl and squirm

Serendipitously a locket curls away
Showering affection on its intended prey
Pearls of wisdom run rampant abound
Cursed in silence, at the apex they drown

Zooming in, swooping out, taciturn vociferation
Crying, stinging, triumphant prestidigitation
A fallacy to what is real and what is imagined
To dine on hope or to remain impassioned

A cornucopia of rich and tasteful exuberance
Twisting through the fog of encumbrance
Where friends become enemies and enemies friends
Light turns to dark turns to a nightmarish opaqueness

Then crash! Flashing amber blinds and subtly redefines
An ancient Indian burial ground, filled with desperate lies
Stirring the pot, emotions run rampant, they run deep
Enchanted chanting rises like the smoke from a pipe

Burying their young when their time has passed
The screams still echo, burning, yearning, aghast
But when the rain comes, we bathe in honorable shame
Of our fallen comrades, we let nature take the reins

We still have time to turn the tables on this fable
When you’re the one lone voice that can’t be labelled
And you call life like you have always seen it
Piece by piece, a journey that is cataclysmic
A veritable melting pot
Authentic but we’re all still lost

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