Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Purcy Flaherty Nov 2018
You came to me like a fairytale,
I held you close;
I looked into your eyes,
they were deep and full of soul; chancing fate.
I kissed your neck and shoulders,
your belly and your ***,
We took each others bodys and tasted freedom.
~
I couldn't help feeling this was:
"your one and only"
A secret that you'll keep to your self ~
"A happy thought!"
Secure in the knowledge that you were once utterly cherished;
And that you alone chose martyrdom; rather than embracing change.
choosing martyrdom and brutal familiarity rather than embracing change.
Yonder comes the eastern sun
Dragging me another day
No place to run
I guess I stay

Someone has to work the soil
Plant the cursed seed
Endure the merciless broil
*** the rampant ****

Wish I were another man
Not in this forsaken place
A heartless God devised this plan
Probably die without a trace

I dream of a blue refreshing lake
A sunlit meadow vast
Relief from this persistent ache
Expunging memory of days past

But alas, there’s no escape
Forever squalid in the dirt
Clothed in this dusty drape
My body in tedious hurt
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2012
Exhausted, drained of all energy,
Seeking to fill this void with life that will fit.
The pain and drudgery of all has become almost too much to bear.
My soul screams out for change and relief.

Eyes closed in torment, wounds bleed with frustration and contempt;
Closed in a jail, a circle that never ends.
Life without living it has become; entombed within this existence
Isolated and alone, I have been left to die.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Janek Kentigern Apr 2015
Your life is threadbare
and it's cosy

Uncomfortable
but safe

Poor
yet secure

It's not killing you
but then neither are you living.

The head is above water,
Struggling against the tide.

Grinding along on a hamster wheel
that badly needs oiling

I mean

You now earn less than you did at your first job.
It was **** all then

and that was 5 years ago.

The years have not been kind. The hairline has crept upward
Roughly in line with inflation.

A job's a job's a job's a job's a job.

There's a damp roof over your head.

Are you ready to trade all this in for a taste of adventure?

A main course of personal growth
washed down with a side order of

Drudgery

loneliness

and Japanese Encephalitis.

Will they find you out?
Will you be pulled into an office

while a polite local
explains how her English is better than yours?

That could all happen, says the head

but the frightened, quivering heart longs to change.

To jump into the fire and emerge reborn
strong, dynamic, brave. All the things you aren't now.


Just don't hope for too much.
sledgehammers finish off the drudgery
some moments are pounding
others are cool like the crystal ocean
a depth of vision is necessary
if you wish to transcend
the edges of your inevitable vulnerability
i am in need of shelter from her fire
a muse that burns all that she inspires
a silent lover of beauty
furthering her art
between the spaces of dreams
our fingers slip into everything
and become entangled like twine
rest here and unwind your heart strings
the scintillating heat is blinding yet rejuvenating
if you are my love then uncover your soul
give naked silence a chance to grow
surround my faithless jungle
with your vines of hope
i am conscious of the lack of rope
this happiness is binding
like kindness climbing invisible ladders
you shatter the silhouette of my perfect idol
i sneak a peak at a photograph
that you have kept hidden
silver visions destined to uncover
the lust of beauty
smiled in my direction
if we wish to dance then circle around the fire
aspire for magic to abolish your name
switch places with your shadow
and feel the earth within your skin
give god a better reason than your sadness
and she may even begin to sing again
Terry O'Leary Sep 2015
1
Though still within our infancy,
we strive to thrive, but woefully
we flash and flaunt our 'primacy',
display our trophies pridefully.

Our terra firma ecstasy
destroys survival's harmony,
lays waste to life on land and sea.
Mankind, thy name is vanity!

By doubting Nature's regnancy,
defying laws with levity,
we strain our spheroid's symmetry
(perhaps a fatal fallacy?)

for, swallowed in the 'world of we',
we feed on vain insanity
with thoughts beyond eternity -
so strange when looked at mortally.

No use to seek a remedy
ensconced in ancient prophecy
for if not handled skillfully,
as clay we'll pay the penalty.

                              2
The Moguls rule with cruel decree,
control the crowds like puppetry,
pursuing greed addictively
with no accountability.

The wind, it reeks of Royalty
(awash in waves of perfidy)
while blowing ’cross the peasantry
(eclipsed in clouds of treachery).

The Queen, well steeped in snobbery,
sits, preening proud Her pedigree,
on throne of sculpted ebony
while sipping Sect immodestly;

to sate Her Regal Majesty,
a caviar clad canapé
is served with golden cutlery
by maidens bent submissively.

The King is bailed from bankruptcy
by Knaves who hoodwink artfully
the down-and-outer evictee
who wallows in their lenity.

Forsooth, the Money Monarchy
exalts the dollar dynasty
engaged in highway robbery
by Peacocks plumed in finery.

Yes, Jesters and the Fools agree
to truckle to duplicity
and laugh about it witlessly.
Long live the peon's penury!

                          3
To champion an oddity
(like two times twelve is fifty three)  
one reaches to theology
through paths of circularity.

In bygone trials of travesty
the doubters, draped in blasphemy,
endured the pain and agony
inflicted by the papacy.

Inspired by the Trinity
fanatics bent cosmology
in geocentric fantasy
while Bruno burned for heresy;

and aged women, randomly
accused of wicked witchery
by justice framed in infamy,
were racked and shown no clemency

That epoch of credulity
(when savants fostered sorcery
and practiced ancient alchemy)
arose in dark age quackery

as clerics dripping piety
(while raging, raving rabidly)
pervaded thralled society
with callous inhumanity;

'repent', they bellowed, 'verily,
forsake the world's iniquity,
live lives of want and chastity,
and give your gelt to God through me'.

                    4
The Masters make a mockery
of freedom and democracy
by holding down the uppity,
released from shackled slavery,

now fettered in a factory
else strewn across the Bowery,
still chained in bonds of bigotry,
immersed in seas of poverty.

And colliers, tapping balefully
in sunken-mine solemnity,
yet thrum a mournful monody
some call the digger's elegy.

To children, pale and raggedy
(behind a day of drudgery),
the boss man, oh so gallantly,
bestows a penny, niggardly;

though some are fed (belatedly),
their eyes recede in apathy
while bellies bulge, inflatedly,
with mothers watching, wretchedly.

When met with health adversity
or broken bone infirmity,
the pauper dangles helplessly
with no insurance policy;

and those engulfed in lunacy
are ailing blobs left floating free
in ******-dream obscurity -
a mired madhouse odyssey.

Ignoring mankind's unity,
the rich and poor dichotomy
breeds dismal doomed finality,
eventual nihility.

                        5
Renewing days of chivalry,
wild warriors fighting valiantly
bring freedom neath the gallows tree
while blending blood and burgundy

to toast the slaughtered enemy,
and so convince the colony
to cede with smile on bended knee
and yield her diamonds, silk and tea.

At first they call the cavalry
and then again the infantry,
so proudly primped in panoply,
with arms from finest armory

(embraced in hands so tenderly
bestow benign atrocity) -
and soon atomic weaponry
will extirpate posterity.

                          6
Misusing high technology
(to feed the face of gluttony)
depletes our Rock of energy,
now slowly dying thermally.

Our gadgets breathing CFC
fuel ozone holes' immensity
while cloud bursts, raining acidly,
wilt woods in their entirety,

and rivers, tainted chemically,
polluted biologically,
refill our cups methodically
and drown our souls organically.

Adjusting genes mechanically
may well blot out the bumble bee
annulling fruits' fecundity,
but brings big bucks reliably.

We wager perpetuity
to revel momentarily
in shadow-like obscurity
ignoring the futility,

but if we bet unknowingly
on fickle fate's contingency
and thereby act haphazardly
we're doomed to lose the lottery.

                 7
The modern day bureaucracy
abuses trust egregiously ,
embeds itself in obloquy
and offers no apology.

It paints the past in reverie
to camouflage the tendency
to strip away our privacy
which paves the path to tyranny.

With earlobes lurking furtively
that listen surreptitiously,
and eyeballs peering piercingly
we've lost cerebral sovereignty,

and those who dare to disagree
must hide away in secrecy
else crowd a black facility
(with water board anxiety).

                  8
Yes, sans responsibility,
our marble in this galaxy
will crumble in catastrophe
ere ever reaching puberty…
Next page