I know why the joker
Doth smile and jest,
And laughs so gleefully at thee.
Thy spirits, he soothes,
With frolicking moves;
The way he sways is so lovely.
The cracks that he'll take
Are enough to make
The dimmest and dullest of minds
Feel stricken and stabbed
With all that he's jabbed:
His kicks are gained heeding your bind.
Showcases of joy,
He seeks to employ:
Even if it's at your expense,
He'll take your dismay,
And cast it away!
Despite his obvious offense...
Mar 29, 2017
Mar 29, 2017 at 1:33 AM UTC
You've such a bitter temperament,
Those foul blows were no accident.
Every scorch you brutally dealt
For all this searing pain you felt
Left behind a disastrous wreck,
Decimating your foes to specks.
Your artful carnage stands unmatched
Since the moment your anger hatched!
You forcibly feed your contempt
In some ruthless way to attempt
Stoking the flames which brew inside
Your calloused heart you try to hide.
It needn't be put on display,
It plainly seems it's in dismay.
You must reject this bitter spite!
Against this hatred, you must fight!
In darkest skies and blackest sea,
You mustn't fuel your misery.
Towards the light, you have to strive!
Only in love, you'll feel alive.
Passion's a challenge to control,
Never must it take such a toll
On your spirit and innermost
Fiery soul and ageless ghost!
You must regain sound discipline
and ensure that you'll surely win
This battle waged within yourself,
And claim triumph for no one else.
Aug 10, 2016
Aug 10, 2016 at 2:05 AM UTC
With power comes responsibility,
'Tis only used sparingly and wisely.
To abuse such gifts proves futility,
Done in foolish manner, quite naively.
Exercise thine strength by showing restraint,
True power's revealed when it's kept at bay.
Though firm discipline's what you should acquaint,
Ne'er should you succumb as easy prey
To those who labor under false belief
That they can freely make others feel grief.
The repercussions to likely entail
From such heinous acts they deem justified
Will show that higher powers will prevail,
And by these powers, we should all abide.
Jul 20, 2016
Jul 20, 2016 at 11:32 PM UTC
He's off to spend every night and day
Watching his dreams slowly fade away
Into the void of endless abyss,
The blackened skies of a hazy mist.
He longingly recalls his desires,
Cast asunder in their pyre.
The world decreed that he'll never need
Such useless whims in his foul mire!
"What good could you ever try to prove?
You were made to fail, and born to lose!
You think you only need be clever
To saunter your way through this grand ruse?"
Although they tried, he stands undeterred
From their efforts to make him unnerved.
He calmly waits for his opportune
Break into eminence, coming soon!
Though he witnessed his dream's demise,
He knew quite well it spelled not the end.
He felt confident when he surmised
That on his dreams, he could depend!
He knew the death of an idea
Could only beget another's birth.
When one seems to fall, the next stands tall,
And what ensues brings plentiful mirth!
All these dreams, they shan't stop producing,
It just takes an active fantasy!
You can spend as much time as needed,
And you're bound to think infinitely
About all the possibilities
You could imagine eternally!
Endless bouts of fruitful pondering,
All this brainwork, you'll be marvelling!
Though you stifle our labors, it seems
Nothing can truly **** all our dreams!
Jul 13, 2016
Jul 13, 2016 at 12:42 AM UTC
Do you dare dabble in unknown power
To crush any decrepit enemy
Who foolishly tries to flee and cower
From your unrivaled, profound devilry?
Will you wager your own fateful demise,
Even though your sanity's quite terrorized
At the atrocious nightmares you create
Which none can fathom, yet you celebrate?
They've nowhere to retreat from this downfall
You've wreaked upon their sordid sanctity!
Now, what they must heed is the final call
Of their imperative fatality!
Suffering in this agonizing Hell,
They'll spend the rest of eternity.
Jul 11, 2016
Jul 11, 2016 at 4:16 AM UTC
Just enough riddles
To number thirteen.
What makes me giggle,
You might call obscene!
1.
The start of the end,
At the end of time.
Comes first in Earth,
And finishes rhyme.
2.
Inside this foul clan, you will find
Not just two, but three of my kind.
3.
What doth thine eye
Most keenly spy
During the calm
Of the stormy sky?
4.
Actors eagerly
Anticipated
This primary line,
Then participated.
5.
It might make you think
Of something like "aches",
The black ball in pool
With the number "8".
6.
A young man, Arnie
Placed his ball on me
When he stopped mixing
This drink, lemony.
7.
Beginning of first,
But never in last.
It's how you begin
To scribe the text fast.
8.
The one who's reading
This most bizarre tale,
On who I depend
To somehow prevail!
The first word's a name,
The third can explain
The point of this game,
So simple and plain.
B-A-C-F-E - F-E-A - D-H-A-A-G
Jul 5, 2016
Jul 5, 2016 at 11:59 PM UTC
There seems to be a slight downfall
With how I sometimes "know it all".
Even though I can still predict
All these outcomes, I must admit
That since I fail to ever act
During these events taking place,
I question why my mind is wracked;
All these issues, I cannot face.
Preemptive sense with a pretense
Is practically self-defeating.
Though you carry knowledge, immense,
You'll soon find yourself repeating
The same mistakes you made before,
And you'll make them forevermore.
Jun 29, 2016
Jun 29, 2016 at 5:49 AM UTC
If I would eat alphabet soup,
And afterwards, take a nice, long ****
The random combination of letters
In the bowl's water, all splattered,
Would make an infinite amount
Of sense when compared
To all the ramblings you surmount
And somehow feel obliged to share.
Jun 21, 2016
Jun 21, 2016 at 4:59 AM UTC
It seems as though the road to Hell
Was only paved with good intent.
Though you try to offer a hand,
You often feel abrupt lament
For such shameful, yet obvious
Indignant and deplorable
Remarks you knew they'd not repent
And knew would sound just horrible.
How they can't think before speaking
Only makes all their arguments
Lose any credibility
And creates such a vast dissent
With those who see past the futility
Behind this debate's disgraceful content.
Jun 21, 2016
Jun 21, 2016 at 4:00 AM UTC
*There are many fates which we can conceive
That easily prove to be worse than death.
The type of cruel doom most cannot believe,
The kind of affair which sharpens your breath.
You could succumb to plague, famine, or war,
All these atrocities, you would labor
For what may seem like an endless purview,
And all these nefarious blights, you'd rue.
You could feel regret for what might've been,
And solely dwell in memories of past,
Constantly question what you did, and when,
Think of why you went where you would hold fast.
Death's a luxury compared to the strain
That's inherent with life's shackling chains.*
Jun 17, 2016
Jun 17, 2016 at 2:38 AM UTC