Draped, in our moonlit hues of discontent

L. B. Mek


Peaking, scarred seashells - dig deep

cursing their Baroque, pearl-less state

as galloping waves - mock, shoreline skirting

Moon stretched – taut, tectonic plates unleashing

Tsunamis, a furious roar - Earth’s resentment

erupting as lava, now it’s too late for our reactionary

Amygdala, to caution restraint. Empire’s, once great  

now, merely trampled sand-castles 

costly, that glutenous conquerors tenacity

of aesthetical valance, ideological hypocrisy

sating, egocentrically cacophonous – deeds

power crazed ignorance of barbaric zealotry

as stars twinkle, universe’s indifferent cadence

of nightmare reality - inciting: wilful choices.


Spontaneously, yet timely – for destiny’s blank pages

a lonesome dragonfly: invades reality, as a feeble firefly

humming a despairing chorus, for its short-lived life 

beckoning fervently, that promise of serendipity

impatiently zips about, escaping - that bleeding of Time 

as its dimming beacon, whispers - a lifetime’s serenade

to that shooting light of hope, crossing a moonless sky. 


Somewhere – far, a butterfly flutters awareness

flustered, at its transcendent Phoenix state

revitalised yet humbled, by its transformation

begins gliding, gustily flapping its theorised chaos    

of curated happenstance, for those of us awaiting 

to glean, introspection’s wisdom whispers and shed

our once repressed: bleak hues of discontent.



© L. B. Mek

August 2021


  • Goldfinch60

    Wonderful words Mek and a wonderful piece of music.


    • L. B. Mek

      funny enough, your write the other day
      'Music Revelations'
      ( https://mypoeticside.com/show-poem-132371 )
      reminded me, that its been a while
      since I accompanied my scribbles
      with some complimenting music, and so
      once more you've helped elevate, my capacity to convey
      the essential message in one of my write's, my friend.
      Thank you! dear Poet

    • Fay Slimm.

      You phrase the word discontent with the many ways in which humanity displays it my friend and adding inanimate reactions as in "Earth's resentment" makes this impressive write very special - and a favourite indeed for poets like me. Well penned L.B.

      • L. B. Mek

        it blossomed from an instant reaction I had to a painting
        as so many of our scribbles do.
        How very kind, dear Fay
        once more you've written such an astute analysis
        of my humble scribble
        as well, as your continued words of encouragement,
        it was important to me, to convey 'Nature's resentment'
        as a counter to our 'wasteful discontent'
        so you highlighting it, gifts me such a welcomed
        sense of accomplishment, thank you!

      • Neville

        although the whole thing is indeed a work of art .. you have most definitely incorporated and interwoven some outstanding imagery & concepts .. I bow before the golden shadow of thy pen .... N

        • L. B. Mek

          'golden shadow'
          'moonlit hues'...
          Clever, supreme Poet
          very! clever...
          I'm grinning, ear to ear - thinking
          'I owe it all to the wise footprints, that guide me!'
          thank you, my cherished friend

        • HannahElisabeth

          I love that you added Moonlight Sonata to this, it was the reason I started playing piano.

          • L. B. Mek

            I'm jealous, I gave it up too quick
            (teacher told me I hand no talent
            and that kinda scarred me, as pitiful as it is to admit) lol
            I have bought a guitar since
            but still, can't get my self to start
            a pity, as I would have loved to play an instrument
            and so easy with online tutorials this days;
            although, while I breathe there's hope, right
            maybe one day?...
            (we should be careful
            with our throwaway comments to children
            some small scars, seep far - too, deep)
            thank you!
            for your generous show of support, dear poet

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