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A new town of secrets and sinners,
wealthy & the street frozen grinners,
bellies warmed with 80 percent proof
Sleeping ***** at night with rustling hoofs.

The local inn flips the sign as they see him
in the distance in rags and needing a trim.
Hair covers his rugged scarred filled face,
Ever a stranger, in a cess pool of a place.

He journeys down to the abandoned lake-house
where his visions saw 4 of them rip off her blouse
and after they took turns, buried her with stones,
His feet raising, lifts remains of her bones.

He  blasts explosions in the soil by the waters,
and buries her in the greenest of patches,
It begins Nightfall & will end by morning
and those complicit shall join the dead.
Preacher, splash some holy water,
on the face of this last Warlock,
I watch my skin scold as it fizzes
as you pull your gun out and let it ****.
I vanish & appear as the vision of her
the one not filling void you miss.
You lower the rifle as you tremble,
and point it under your pale chin.
Rubianne Foster Dec 2024
“God, can you hear me?”
Such a childish plea.
“But God I’m your child, what did you expect to see”
Born unto demons, a demon you’ll be.
Valentin Eni Nov 2024
No,
the poet is not always
the bringer of light!
he can also bring
darkness, hatred, and pain.
he can sing of evil and ugliness.
the poet knows how to squeeze out tears
and smear blood into your eyes.
from his nails, claws can grow
and from his teeth, fangs.
on his forehead, horns he could place
if ever needed.
No,
the poet is not necessarily
dressed in white garments.
he can pass through naked
and laugh madly in hysterics!
and if you strike him,
he will not always
turn the other cheek.
No,
the poet is no angel!
he is a wound—always bleeding—
on the sick heart of the World
and the sleepless eye on Its forehead,
the unforeseen eye.
This poem was originally written in Romanian.

Analysis of "No! The Poet"

Theme:
The poem challenges romanticized notions of poets as solely virtuous and enlightened figures, presenting a darker, multifaceted portrayal instead. The poet becomes a vessel for light and shadow, capable of evoking beauty and ugliness, healing and harm. This duality emphasizes the raw and unpredictable power of art and the humanity of its creator.

Tone and Structure:
The tone is defiant and provocative, confronting the reader’s expectations with stark negations. The repeated "No" asserts the rejection of traditional archetypes and sets the poem’s rhythm. The structure, with its free verse and escalating intensity, mirrors the chaotic, untamed energy of the poet described within.

Imagery and Meaning:

The Poet as a Creator of Duality:

"The poet is not always the bringer of light! / he can also bring darkness, hatred, and pain."
The poet is portrayed as a figure who embodies and expresses the full spectrum of human experience unbound by societal ideals of purity or enlightenment.
This duality challenges the reader to see poetry as more than a tool for comfort or beauty.

Violent and Monstrous Metaphors:

"From his nails, claws can grow / and from his teeth, fangs. / On his forehead, horns he could place."
The poet is likened to a beast or demon, underscoring creativity's primal, untamed nature. Poetry here is not sanitized but raw and visceral.
These images emphasize that poets may disturb or unsettle as much as they inspire.

Human Vulnerability:

"He is a wound—always bleeding— / on the sick heart of the World."
The poet is presented as deeply empathetic, absorbing and reflecting the world’s pain.
This wound symbolizes the poet's role as a witness and participant in humanity’s suffering.

The Unforeseen Eye:

"The sleepless eye on Its forehead, / the unforeseen eye."
The poet becomes a seer, perceiving and revealing truths that others cannot or will not see.
This suggests a sense of duty or burden, as the poet remains ever-watchful and aware.

Message:
The poem asserts that poets are not merely idealistic figures of inspiration but complex beings who confront the full spectrum of life’s darkness and light. They wield their art as both a weapon and a balm, embodying truth's chaotic, painful, and transformative power. The poet’s role is to provoke, unsettle, and challenge while carrying the weight of the world’s wounds.

Conclusion:
"No! The Poet" is a bold and courageous portrayal of the poet as a figure of duality—creator and destroyer, angel and beast, healer and wound. By rejecting conventional expectations, the poem forces readers to reconsider the nature of art and its creators, emphasizing the poet's raw humanity and limitless potential. It is a celebration of poetry’s ability to confront the sublime and the grotesque, offering a vision of art as both a mirror and a force of transformation.
Sewanti Oct 2024
Today, I dared to set my foot upon the world's stage.
And the sunlight rushed forth, blinding my sight in boundless radiance.
A strange sight unfolded before me, a world bathed in a ghostly, whitish hue.
Oh, how my eyes endured the agonizing throes of reality;
Their gaze so deeply enamoured by the allure of darkness,
Wept for the embrace of comforting shadows.
My skin burned with an unearthly fervour,
As if I had been whisked away to the fiery depths of infernal hell.
I retraced my steps in haste, falling into the arms of a formidable beast,
Enshrouded boldly in his wily grin of triumph,
As though his feast had willingly surrendered itself to his grasp.
I had always been destined to be ensnared within the web of hopelessness,
Like a fragile moth drawn inexorably to the relentless flame of its existence.
For this monstrous entity has divested me of strength, cradling me through endless day and night,
While feasting upon my very soul beneath the soothing veil of shadows.
I dwelt in such delusion, losing sight of the truth that the sun has long forsaken my sky.
Must I wait for this fear to gobble me up and let me vanish into the oblivion?
Or dare once more to descend into the radiant expanse of the unfamiliar,
Where the light of hope may still be flickering, beckoning for my return?
Antonia Sep 2024
I’m feeling heavier than iron
my chest, my arms, my legs
feel numb
it feels impossible to breathe
like i am deep under the water

and i could hear my body sinking
the lungs,
now slowly filling up with liquid

no hope.

just death in sight

my tongue is stuck,
my hands are tight,
i feel the weight
of my mistakes

i  just so desperately want
to get some air and breathe again

but not this time,
my demon says

as I am drowning
once again
this is how a panic attack feels for me, haven’t had one in a while, but it used to be the norm when I was younger. If you’re going through tough times, just know they never last. I am doing much better now, and hopefully you can take this as a message of hope. Things do get better, just hang in there, stop running from your feelings, the only way out, is through.
Psych-o-rangE Jun 2024
He pulls a sword from a rock
And the crowd cheered
And he was worthy
And he will bring war

To those who are unworthy
.
And he will graze their fields
.
And he will burn their temples
.
He will reveal his true form, eating all the children of those who are not worthy
.
What our One was meant to do
MsAmendable Jun 2024
When we as loveless humans failed,
With hate in every word exhaled
We turned and let our gods all crash,
we turned our children into ash.
.
And from out the ashes crawled
A thousand demons, wide and tall
Roiling mud and blood and stench
Tore out from groaning wound-like trench
.
And then down from the sun there flew
(not too many nor too few)
A band of angels, a golden choir
Singing songs of purging fire
.
And at the end of battle-day
In the fields of war there lay
No liars, beggars, thiefs or knaves
But a thousand crying naked babes
Mark Wanless May 2024
the demon dog is
vengeful with it's teeth biting
malevolent now
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