Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Michael W Noland Sep 2012
[A] is for
An
Archer with
An
Arrow through his
Adams
Apple, very
Applicable, to the
Ample
Amounts of
Amiable
Attitude,
Adorning his heart, in
After
Action
Attributes, that impart, the
Admiration, of
*******, in this
Acting out of
Arrogance bit. he is,
Astute, in his
Allure, and
Aloof, in the
Air, of
Aspiration, in which, he was
Alienated in the
Agony, of
Asking
Assassins, the
Aforementioned. lights, camera,
Action. recipe of the
Ancient
Admirals of
Avian
Aliens, that
Attacked, with the
Arms and fists, of
Arachnids, now
Aching to be
Activated in sudden
Allegiance to the
Answers, of the truth.
Accumulating wealth for
Anarchy's of
Abating
Angels in
Atrophied,
Alchemical
Academies of the ever
After life .. . of silence.
****** strengthens in these
Accolades of violence, in
Alliance to
Appliances
Appearing in the
Arson of
Apathy, happily, to
Anguish in the
Amputation of my
Abdomen, if it meant i'm a real
American, even, when, only
Ash, remains.
Acclimating in its remains
Attained, the
Articles of my pain, in
Affluent shame, next time ..
Aim... oak
[A]?

[B] is for the
Bah of
Black sheep, and
Big
Bit¢hes, fat cats,
Bombarded in the
Blasted,
Bastion of
Blackened
Benevolent
Blokes,
Berating the
Blasphemous,
Be-seech, of
Brains, to feel
Bad, about the
Blotching of
Binary codes, erroding, the
Blanked out
Books, of
Belittled
Bureaucrats,
Bowling
Back the
Bank rolls of
Betterment, from the
Back of the
Blackened
Bus, as i'm
Busting guts, in the
Bubbling
Butts, of *****
Benched, but
Beautiful, in the
Battle, in the
Bane, of existence.
Baffled, in the strain of
Belligerence, in
Beating the
Beaming
Butchery into
Billy's
Broken
Brains, in
Bouts, of
Battering
Bobby's for
Bags of
*******
Before, affording to
Build
Bombs, is just
Beyond
Breaking
Beer
Bottles on the
*******
Benefactors of
Boulder
Bashing with the
Beaks, of
Birds, with no
Bees. just a
Being, trying to
[B]


[C] is for the
*****
Courting the
Choreography, in
Computerized
Curtains,
Circumventing the
Cultured,
Contrivance of
Chromatic
Cellars,
Calibrating, to the
Contours of
Calamities,
Celebrating the
Cyclical,
Cylinders of
Cyphered
Calenders,
Correcting the
Calculations, of
Crooks
Coughing, in
Courageous
Coffins of
Canadians,
Collecting
Cobble stones, from
Catacombs, in the lands of the
Conquered,
Capturing the
Claps of thieves, sneaky
Cats, of greed. its
Comedy. oh
Comely, to my
Cling of
Cleanliness, and for your self
[C]

[D] is for the
Dip *****, as they
Delve
Deeper in the
Deliverance, of
Deviant
Deities,
Dying to
Demand
Dinner
Delivered in the throws of
Death,
Deceiving
Defiance of
Darkened
Dreams,
Demeaning that which
Deems the
Dormant of the
Dominant, to be
Demons of
Deviled
Devilry,
Dooming us for
Destruction.
Deploy the,
Damsels in
Duress.
Defiled and
Distressed,
Detestable and
Dead. in the thump of
Drums,
Dumbing down the
Debts of,
Dire regrets.
Dissect the
Daisies of,
Disillusion, in the current
Days,
Diluting night into
Dawn,
Disconnecting the
Dots of the
Dichotomy, and arming me, in the
Diabolatry, of,
Demonology, as i watch me
Dwindle away, the
[D]

[E] is for
Everything in nothing,
Eating the
Euphoric
Enigmas of
Enlightened
Elitists,
Exceeding in the
Extravagant
Essence of
Esoteric
Euphemisms,
Escaping the
Elegance of the
Elements in the
Eccentricity of
Eclectic
Ecstasy,
Exhaling, the
Exostential blessings, of inner
Entities, and renouncing the
Enemies of my
Ease,
Easily to appease
Extraterestrial
Empires,
Extracting the lost
Embers of
Enlightenment, in
Excited delight, but to later
Entice, the fight, and
Escape, like a thief into the night of
Everywhere,
Entering the
Exits of
Elevators leading no where, to
Elevate, this useless place,
Encased in malware in the
Errant
Errors of
Every man,
Enslaved, of flesh and
Entrails,
Enveloping the core of
Everything, that matters,
Enduring, the chatter, of
Evermore,
Ever present in
Everybody
Ever made to take
[E]

Funk the
Ferocity of
Foolish
Fandangos, with
Fanged
Fanatics,
Fooled in the
Fiasco of
Fumbled
Fantasies,
Falling through the
Farms of
Freely
Found
Fans,
Flying in the
Fame of
Fortune.
Fornicating on the
Fallen
Fears of
Fat
Fish getting their
Fillet of
Fills.
Feel me in the
Frills

Granted with
Generosity.
Giblets of
Gratitude and
Greed,
Greeting the
Goop and
Gobbled
Gore,
Gleaned from the
Glamour of
Ghouls in
Gillie suits,
Getting what they
Got
Going, in the
Gratuitous
Gallows of a
Game
Gaffed by
Giants.

Hello to the
Horizon of
Hellish
Hilarity, in
Hope of
Happy, to
Heave from
Heifers, to
Help the
Hemp
Harshened
Hobos in
Heightened
Horror, to
Honor the
Habitats of
Hapless
Habituals,
Herbalising the work
Horse, named
Have Not, in the
Haughtily
Hardened
Houses of
Happenstance.

Ignore the
Ignorant
Idiots, too
Illiterate to
Indicate the
Indicative
Instances of
Idiom in the
Irrelevant
Inaccuracy of
I,
In the
Intellect of
Idle
Individuals,
Irritated with the
Irate
Illusion of
Idols
Illustrated upon the
Iris,
In the
Illumination of
I.

******* the
Jobless
Jokers, and
Jimmy the
Jerkins from their
Jammie's, in
Justified,
Jousting off the
Jumps, in
Jokes, and
Jukes of
Just
Jailers,
Jesting for
Jammed
Jury's to
****
Judgment from the
Jitter
Juiced
Jeans of
Jesus.

**** the
Keep of
Khaki-ed
Kool aid men,
Kept in the
Kilometers of
Kits,
Kin-less
Kinetics,
Knifing the
Knights of
Kneeling
Kinsmanship,
Keeling over the
Keys of
Kaine, with the
Karmic
Karate
Kick of a
Kangaroo.

Love the
Levity, in the
Luxurious
Laments of
Loveliness,
Lovingly
Levitating in
Level,
Lucidly.
Living in
Laps, of
Lapses,
Looping, but
Lacking the
Loom of the
Latches
Locked with
Leeches of the
Lonely
Lit
Leering of
Lightly
Limbs, that
Lash at the
Lessers in
Loot of
Lost letters,
Lest we
Learned in the
Lessons of
Liars.

Marooned in
Maniacal
Masterpieces,
Masqueraded as
Malignant
Memorization's of
Motionless
Mantras, but
Merrily
Masking
Mikha'el the
Mundane, who is
Musically
Mused of
Monsters,
Mangling the
Monitor, but
Maybe just a
Moniker of
Marauders.

Never to
Navigate the
Nautical
Nether of
Never
Nears.
Not to
Nit pic the
Naivety of
Nicety.
Notions
Neither take
Note
Nor
Name the
Noise of
Nats in the
Nights of
Neanderthals
Napping in the
Nets of
Ninjas

Ominous in the
Obvious
Omnipotence of
Oblivious
Obligatory
Opulence,
Of
Other
Oddly
Orchards
Of
Offices,
Ordaining
Orifices in
Offers of
Ordinary
Ordinances in
Option-less
Optics,
Optionally an
On-call Oracle, in
Optimal,
Overture.

Perusing the
Pestilent
Pedestals of
Personal,
Parameters,
Pursuing the
Petty
Plumes of
Piety with the
Patience of a
Pharaoh,
******* on the
People with the
Penal
Pianos of
Port-less
Portals, in the
Paperless
Points in the
Palpal
Pats of
Pettiness.
Poor, but
Prideful.

Quick to
Qualify the
Quitter for a
Quick
Quill in
Queer
Quivering of
Quickened
Questioning,
Queried in the
Quakiest of
Quandaries.
Quarantined to a
Quadrant, of
Quagmires.
Questing the
Quizzing of
Quotable
Quartets.

Relax in the
Relapse of
Realizations, and
React with
Racks of
Rolling
Rock to
Rate the
Rep of the
Rain-less.
Roar in
Rapturous
Rendering of the
Random
Readiness in the
Ravenous,
Rallying, of the
Retinal
Refracting of
Reality.
Realigning, the
Righteous
Rearing of the
Realm, and
Retrying.

Steer the
Serenity in
Sustainability, and
Slither through the
Seams of
Slumbered
Scenes.
Secrete the
Solo
Sobriety of
Sapped
Sassys,
Salivating upon a
Slew of
Stupidity,
Steadily
Supplied in
Stream,
Suitably
Slain in the
Steam of
Sanity.
Sadly, i
Still
Seem,
Salvagable.

Topple
The
Titans in
Tightened
Terror.
Torn
Territories
Turn
Turbulent in
The
Teething of
Totality.
The
Telemetry of
Time,
Tortured of
Torrent
Theories,
Told in
Turrets of
Transpiring
Terribleness, from
Tumultuous
Tikes unto
Teens,
Trading
Toys for
Tea.
Thrice
Thrusted upon by the
Tyranny of
Tanks.

Unanimous is the
Ugliness in the
Undertones of
Undreamed
Ulteriors
Undergoing the
Unclean in the
***** of
Utterly
Upset
Users,
Uplifting the
Unfitting
Ushers in
Underwear-less,
Ulcers,
Undergoing the
Ultra of
Uberness.

Venial in
Vindictive
Viciousness of
Vindicated
Venom,
Venomously
Vilifying the
Vials of
Villainy in the
Veins of
Vampires,
Validity of
Valuable
Violence, is
Valiant in the
Vaporous
Vacationing of
Vagrant
Vices.

Why
Whelp in the
Weather
When you can
Wave to the
Whirling
Wisps,
Whipping Where the
Whimsical Were
Way back in the
Wellness of
Whip its,
Wrangling my
World,
With
Waterless
Worms, as
War shouts are
Wasted in the
Wackiest
Walks of
Waking
Wonder.

Xenophobic
Xenogogue, of
Xenomorphic
Xeons, turn
Xyphoid, in the
Xenomenia of my
X, my
Xenolalia of
X, to
***. im lost in the
Xenobiotic zen of
Xerces, on a
Xebec to the
X on the map.
Xenogenesis, in the
Xesturgy of my
Xyston
Xd

Yelling
Yearned from
Yelping.
Yard
Yachts
Yielding, to the
Yodel of
Yeah
Yeahs, to the
Yapping of
******
Yuppie
Yoga
Yanks, over
Yonder.
Yucking it up with the
Yawn of a
Yocal.

Zapped from a
Zone i
Zoomed with
Zeal in the
Zig and
Zag of my
Zapping
Zimming
Zest, upon a
Zombie-less
Zeplin.
Zealot,
Zionist, or
Zoologists,
Zeros or ones, just
Zip your
Zip locked. and
Zzzzz
Zzzz
Zzz
Zz
Z
Zero
this is a work in progress
Marshal Gebbie Sep 2013
A moment’s inspiration to grasp a building thought,
A panicked, surged excitement, now achieved, where once was naught.
In plucking crystal thought from the yonder crisp, blue air,
And coalescing mishmash into meaningful repair.
To seek a path of verbage realigning phrases bright
And feel the resurrection of creative works this night.
In pulling rich vocabulary from within the concrete hash
Concocting circumspection in this brilliant verse from trash.
Annunciating clarity and a purity of class
To haul yourself, abruptly, to get off your lazy ****…
To burst forth in immaculate and spontaneous wordage clear
And blithely blow away your critics on their loathsome, leering ear.

Marshalg
11 September 2013
SassyJ Jan 2016
The snail strolls gently
Realigning hoped moments
A slow pace of consequences
****** and placed on tables
Harped to melodic tunes
Summed in upbeat sequences
The crescendo boils to ******
The climb of beats and undertones
All exposed and overlooked
The onlookers astonished
My ribs pinned out in pain
I squeeze to the cracks of normality
Attempting to slowly leap
To see the darkness of winter
To breath the stilled air
Yet, a hope lived, a life seen
We all shall make it to the end
Crawling to cut the finish line
Life seems slow but with minimal leaps. We shall all see the finish line. The aspect of living a "normal" life pain my ribs; up to the point the onlookers are astonished. We are all heading to the finish line, some things have to be embraced! But do we have to?
Mahatma gnaws at World War hungers
Reincarnated forms of Wild West lungers

Spatially realigning to a kosher and beloved state
Krishna stands ignored, can’t help feeling irate
Walrus tusks dig into the carpenter’s brow
As an eight armed saint is revealed as a cow

Scriptures packed and rolled, exhaled in suspicion
Prophets praised for violence incurred, act of sedition
T Zanahary Aug 2012
We sit in silence,
backs crooked,
the couches' cushions caving in.
The weight of passing hours
and minuettes alleviating thinking
in a miscellaneous metronome
ticking to bring time to a heaving chest.

Stay calm,
the pain of realignment will pass.
Burdensome they may be,
burgeoning wings will free you of...

Pressure collapsing this cage,
walls torn from studs,
leaving only this skeleton
surrounding us as we find delirium
the backbone of convulsing lungs watched,
earthquake mute laughter marring the faces
with jagged faults.
The cost of cracking,
we must accept the scarring permanent.
Breaks unplanned infirmities,
alone, our time line disrupted itself
and the heavens came,
tumbling down.

In silence,
we lay, arms barring
our escaping words.
Eyes overstep boundaries,
slipping through the gaps,
a second moment of
clarification fractures restraints
whilst beguiling brainstorms
sparked our interest.
Our tongues meet,
shyly.

rubies placed upon your breath
slipping against molded clay.
In sapphires
you and I hold nighttime
reflections of passion
contained in coal, waiting.
Ivory runs my length,
bending to ecstasy, breathing
shallow, asynchronous, failing
to find it's end in persistence.

In night
the danger dropped us, longing
that dusty light beaming down on
the show, Act 2 is
the comedy. Off.

Parallel parabola line diamond reflections,
allow for recall with brushed fingertips,
horse hair undertones realigning smiles,
abstract the paintings of today,
of yesterday, stealing away tomorrow
in a previous reiteration of our variant
indifference.

The wings of the demon opened
in symbolic solace, fell far
across this burning emotional
harbor, aflame
in angels' suicides.
We've fallen, taken knees to grace,
whispering eulogies the waves applaud.
Sands wash away to cupped stone
palms, caressing the troubled banks lost
in time. The blood washes away,
momentary marks, brown,
stained, it passes.

Demons foreshadow.
In their shade we are seen
falling into broken arms, sinew
stitched through hearts, still healing
strength gives way.

Our tongues meet
shyly,
this reunion a mistake,
now locked, staying stilled while
attempting apologetic phrasing.
We sit in silence,
backs crooked,
blank walls and barren recounts
crashing in.
Hayleigh Dec 2014
So what is recovery?
Is it that tingle in your cheeks
When the corners of your mouth meet
Upwards.
Is it that sparkle in your eyes
Because they're no longer suffocated by your cries and you now have the potential to realise
You are strong.
Is it that glimpse of light, that for so long had been out of sight, that you cling onto tight, through fear
It's only temporary.
Is it rediscovering yourself, rebuilding your health and developing a new wealth
Of coping mechanisms.
Is it realigning the chemical imbalances in your brain, so you no longer feel insane, so there's not less pain
But a mind that can handle it.
Is it the glimpse in the mirror where you don't turn in horror but you greet and honour the person that you are.
Is it the fear, that's consumed you year by year, that's brought the end so near,
That starts to evaporate.
Is it eating a meal, and not having to feel like
You need to punish yourself.
Is it hearing voices, but no longer allowing them to dictate your choices,
Because they don't own you anymore.
Is it putting down the bottle, because you're fed up of the throttle
It had you in.
Is it the feeling when you finally win
Back your own heart and mind
When finally you look inside
And don't find
Darkness but light,
When the night no longer scares you
And the days you can finally pull through
Or is it simply a phase
A gaze at what could never be
For there is no clarity,
No prospect to be free
In chains and nooses
And scars and bars.
In bodies that fight to survive
Trapped inside a mind that fights to take our lives.

Some of us; shall never be undone
We fight a war;
That could Never be won.
First draft....
I think recovery is all of these things whilst accepting there is always the risk that it is temporary if you allow it to be.
I only gave up setting targets
because they moved the goals again

it's such a shame
and nearly all my bullets gone
but
naturally I'll go on
and try
to change the pitch.

They tell me life's a *****
but
I don't think that's true, I just
need a slight adjustment
a bit more green
a bit less blue
you might disagree and
think that you could be immune

try to hit the bullseye
and you'll sing a different tune

The sights are bent and crooked
and we're being
taken for a ride
The have its have it all
we're on the losing side.
Lady Bird Feb 2017
with each gust of gloom
transparent emotions flow
a whistling tender breeze
lingering a lonely rhythm

realigning clouds of smog  
hovering tattering trees
leaving behind a silhouette
absorbing shadows of sorrow

all alone a locked heart
searching for unknown hope
humming the bitter dreams
of a darkened and lost soul
Inspiring Image --- https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5bj-ORjV8JM/WKTwZoPWm7I/AAAAAAAAEhs/gyBtkpDVUIoGEKqcdp4aJkq3P6naJIZyACLcB/s1600/000seasrcgesShe.JPG
Matt Revans Oct 2015
A time will come
in your life when something will wake you




and your fears
and insanity will finally forsake you.



You stop dead in
your tracks and somewhere the voice



inside your head
cries out… ENOUGH! Just rejoice!



Enough fighting
and crying and constantly blaming



and struggling to
hold on, and senselessly shaming.



Then, like a
child quietening down after a tantrum, you blink back your tears



and begin to look
at the world through new eyes, without fears.



This is your
awakening, you realise it’s time to stop hoping



and waiting for
something to change, whilst you’re barely just coping,



or for happiness,
safety and security to magically appear



over the next
horizon at which you anxiously peer.



You realise that
in the real world there isn’t always a fairy tale ending,



and that any
guarantee of “happily ever after” must begin with self-mending.



And in the
process a sense of serenity is born, but not by de rigueur,



You just awaken
to the fact that you don’t perfectly configure.



That not everyone
will always love, appreciate or approve of who or what you are



And that’s OK,
for they’re entitled to their own views and opinions, you’ve got here so far.



You learn the
importance of loving and championing yourself, and start the removal,



of outmoded
behaviours, in order to process a sense of new found self-approval.



You stop
complaining and blaming other people for the things they did to you,



or didn’t do for
you – for only thing you can count on is the unexpected, ain’t that true!



You learn that
people don’t always say what they mean, or mean what they say,



and that not
everyone will always be there for you anyway,



and everything
isn’t always about you. So, you learn to stand on your own two feet



and to take care

of yourself…  for you are actually
complete.



And in the process
a sense of safety and security is born of self-reliance.



You stop judging
and pointing your finger in defiance.



You begin to
accept people as they are and start to overlook



their
shortcomings and human frailties, don’t live by THAT book.



And in the
process a sense of peace and contentment is born of forgiveness.



You learn to open
up to different points of view whilst not making them your business.



You begin
reassessing and redefining,



smudging your
edges; perceptions realigning.



Distilling who
you are at your core.



Titrating what
you really stand for.



You learn the
difference between wanting and needing



and throw out childhood
schemas from psychological spoon-feeding.



You begin to
discard the doctrines and values you’ve outgrown,



or should never
have bought into to begin with, but in your youth you were shown.



You learn that
there is power and glory in contributing and creating,



and you stop
maneuvering through life merely as a consumer, unsatisfied and berating.



You learn that

principles such as honesty and integrity are not the outdated ideals of a
bygone era,



but the mortar

that holds together the foundation upon which you must build a life to hold
dearer.



You learn that
you don’t know the answers to any and everything,



it’s not your job
to save the world and that you can’t teach a pig to sing.



You learn the
only cross to bear is the one you choose to carry



and that martyrs
get burned at the stake, regardless of whether or not you do tarry.



Then you learn
about love. You learn to look at relationships as they really are



and not as you
would have them be; for they will hurt and scar.



You learn that
‘alone’ does not necessarily mean lonely.



You stop trying
to control people, situations and outcomes, and thinking ‘If Only!’



You learn to
distinguish between responsibility and guilt,



And the

importance of setting boundaries and learning to say ‘NO’, when ‘YES’ is
inbuilt.



You also stop
working so hard at putting your feelings aside,



Or smoothing things
over and ignoring the resentment inside.



You learn that your
body really is your temple, and finally select,



to care for it,
and treat it with love & respect.



You begin to eat
a balanced diet, drink more water, and take exercise.



You spirit starts
to soar, which should come as no real surprise.



You learn that
being tired fuels doubt, uncertainty and fear



so you take more
time to rest and be with the people you hold dear.



And, just as food
fuels the body, laughter fuels the soul.



So you take more
time to laugh and to play, and make joy your goal.



You learn that,
for the most part, you get in life what you deserve,



and that much of
life truly is a self-fulfilling prophecy, which will unfold without reserve.



You learn that
anything worth achieving is worth working for,



and that wishing
for something to happen is different than making it happen; for sure.



More importantly,
you learn that in order to achieve success you need direction,



discipline and
perseverance, but most importantly, self-affection.



You learn that no
one can do it all alone,



and that it’s OK
to risk asking for help and sharing your zone.



You learn the
only thing you must truly fear is fear itself,



For you learn to
step right into and right through your fears and not hide them on some shelf



In the recesses
of your mind.



You treat
yourself well, treat yourself kind.



Because you know
that whatever happens you can handle those fears



As the fire in
you burns brighter with the passing of your years



For to give in to
fear is to give away the right



to live life on
your own terms, filled with much love and light



You learn to
fight for your life and not to squander your hours,



living under a
cloud of impending doom which will sprinkle you with its showers.



You learn that
life isn’t always fair, you don’t always get what you think you deserve



and that

sometimes bad things happen to good people whose fate you are unable to
preserve



and you learn not
to always take things so personally, or let your pride be so bruised.



You learn that
nobody’s punishing you and that you are not always being abused.



It’s just life
happening. You learn to admit when you are wrong



and to build
bridges instead of walls, from which you can sing your life’s message all along.



You lean that
negative feelings must be understood and redirected



or they will

suffocate the life out of you and the universe which will just become more
infected.



You learn to be
thankful and to take comfort in the many different gifts



That we the lucky
ones possess in this world of deep rifts,



things that
millions of people upon the earth would love to have just for one hour:



a full
refrigerator, clean running water, a soft warm bed, a long hot shower.



Then, you begin
to take responsibility for yourself,



by yourself, and
you make yourself



a promise to
never betray yourself



and to never,
ever settle for less than you heart’s desire and good health.



You make it a
point to keep smiling, to keep trusting,



and to stay open
to every wonderful possibility in this life which is there for the lusting.



Finally, with
courage in your heart, you take a stand, you take a deep breath,



and you begin to
design the life you want to live as best as you can, to the death.

Matt Revans
©Copyright
HRTsOnFyR Apr 2015
His body grounds me...
I was an alternating current
with a frayed wire
Sputtering... sparking...
Misfiring...
Alone and flickering in quiet desperation...
Then he drew me in with his hands
Held me tightly, pulling me close...
Inviting me into his Center
Insulating my circuits from the heat of their own charge,
Reigniting those cold, dead connections...
Redirecting, realigning
Aeons of my dissipated energies.
I become more, now, than some
Reckless, erratic sunburst...
Snapping and flaring on the mere surface of things...
A loving so strong it makes me re-enter the belly of the beast,
He and I, we become the pulse...
Folding ourselves into the warm, primitive heart of God...
Selflessness... Sacrifice...
Joy, Radiance... Gratitude...
I find all these things here.
And everything false just quietly disappears.
heart to heart connections,
warm embraces in cold moments,
reconciling our perspectives
& realigning each other’s focus.
—————————————————
tactful conversations,
with intentional devotion,
healing the deepest of wounds
& building bridges over oceans.
Peace & silence find harmony once wounds feel at home in hearts that listen.

— The End —