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My home. My safe place!
My sanctuary of peace and calm!

Deaf as I am,  I'm glad to have friends,
When someone tries to steal from my mom!

So we kept watch, over her van,
Seeing the shadows of an unknown man,

We're suited and booted; my knife
And his gun,
And we're ready to take him,
Or force him to run!

******* all,  I have work
In the morning,
But I'll be ****** if we don't
Send him a warning!

Our shout brought him out,
And we watched him run,
To go steal elsewhere,
But he'll have no fun!

Not here; not now.
At my grandmother's house.
So I stand and I shake,
Eyes wide open; awake,

A knife at my side, with
My rage as my guide.
Hell no! Not here!
Not now!

My home.  My safe place,
My sanctuary of calm!
So I await the coming sunrise;
No one ***** with my mom!
Someone tried to steal my grandma's van tonight. So the adrenaline has overpowered my sleeping pills, and now I'm stuck with the urge to ****. But that's fine by me; I'll stay awake! I work tomorrow,  but I'll never be late.
Lyrical Dream Apr 11
As I speak these words, may the dead borrow my tongue and tell their stories from the grave. I no longer lust to lie by them. I want to live and live loudly— let my voice linger as I leave, if not from my tired throat, than from the ink of my pen. I may be rotting but my words are immortal.

I am alive.

If the sun can shine so shamelessly, then so should I. And I, as she, shan’t somber to save your eye.

I am blinding.

A rose, draped in her dainty dress, can make a man bleed— thorns sharp beneath her scarlet skirt tail, his fingertips dripping to match it.

I am brutal.

I have seen the sea swallow strangers whole—suffocate them beneath her shimmering surface. She roars. She rages. She’s rough. And if she can reap her revenge with her gentle waters rippling with sapphire; if she can balance anger and allure, then so can I. Her grace is violent—her beauty fatal.

I am soft, but I am rageful. I am calm, but I burn with hellfire beneath my skin. I am silent, but my throat is raw—my voice tearing it red, ripping its way to freedom.
I S A A C Apr 5
lock and key on my arm
plenty of snakes i have charmed
my disarming eyes
my unbridled rage
my mystery they cannot gauge

pearl on pearl too
give myself some room
grow into, trust my moves
sailing smooth
Ari Mar 8
where do i go
do i go home
why did the abuser
have to feel so familar
so happy
i got out in 2 days
instead of longer
it hurts
that I felt the pain again
at the patriarchy
at the men
who claim to be good
when they are really just
hating creatures
who believe
that they can try to control me
manipulate me
influence me
or bend me to their ways
to break you
I will be respected
no matter
who I must avoid
or cut off
I am tired of men ruling my life
I am
as well as all of the ancestors behind me
raging against most of the horrible men out there
For the good men out there
I can't wait to meet more of you
and to actually converse
and have nice interactions
patriarchy men abuse ****** assault
Till It happens to you
Dacotah Ashes Sep 2022
as I attempt to find a voice for rage
I can still feel your nails at my throat
stifling my breath with an empty threat
sorrynotsorry, I won't stay in this cage
Ken Pepiton Sep 2022
Analog, anabasis… trip, short, burn the bug to carbon dust…

Seeking in my treasury of books, pared down to ones with personal attachments,
- I sought a Welsh-English pocket dictionary, gifted me
- by a taller and older, by experience, Overmeyer… Bob,
- but he was one of a few in the corp, band of brothers,
- who sang along with me, when he heard me humm,
- he knew the words, worth-ship fixing words, yes,
- we shall gather at the river that flows by the throne of truth. Mmmmhmm, so we shall see, so we shall see,
Oldman river, you know,
you wait, and wait, fishin' wishin' cogitations got from *** go,
known good, known evil, and evil comes for effect, not cause,
clean up, aisle five
hell, in a target store. And a Walmart, #26.
-- I recognized the anti particle, passing through either or,
becoming here, from there, your thinking my thinking,

wall of text, in your current context, this wall has hat

hooks to insights marked pertinent someday, in the wide ocean
at the end of any river mind me and error master,
as awareness, meandering as all fluids do.
Aligning in honed most saline crystaline form, as
current opinions shapened from dust and ash originally,
then spit the idea out as a word,
matter… mater, really, bottom first bit, was realized after
paterialization falled to manifest self reproduction…
patterned thought, fabrication, plane geometry… which we
as a team, a man and his tools, gunslinger, plus accoutrements.

Yep. Adam, did not work alone. The egg was first. He named eggs.
And chickens, full of eggs, no, hope, and chaos, nada mas…
- morals from old stories, we had lost all hold on those…
Stepmothers after The Hundred Years war, like as not was
first slave, with only obey believed enforce,
as far as
holy vows spoke allowed, but in a whisper…
hear us,
old folk, we scatterbrained old rockers by the fireplace
listen, this is living, right.
Pursue haps as haps occur, in thinking one thing or this other,

Our kind, fixed position ears perpindicularly augmenting per-
iferal vision, if, just, if. Immeasuarable meanings, justice, yes,

we settled at that point. All the Promises - in any living faith,
even dying proves life is a chance, we all go through it, and some leave marks, while others leave a heart felt
oxitocin, not cotin, red on yellow, **** a fellow, -tocin. Oxitocin,

Rush!- Kettle DRUM after a cello up run, or an old familiar rif,
Goin' up country, ' bought a map for a dime,
from a time lain aside in book, as I was seeking that Welsh word for these experience in side, feeling inside, but being mere, yes, not a limiting adjectival modification, on a word, intended to soothe,

NOT ******, soothe, as said of gentle rolling seas, calm as constant as Jupiter's ever near there, right there, red spot, there,
that is an anomoly, yet, there are those who claim clarity, that

Red spot, Ted-talk phaze, ease in, get a buzz, mmmm, slow, slow

whoa, so slow, what difference can plain-people, just us,
can we ever just know, this is the way, no obstacles,
and we leave trails, and trails widen, and widen, and widen,

wide as the milky way as seen from North Korea.
What a blessing, right?
--- God made these chickens we are eating,

no, child we selected these big red hens, people, like us, we can
know how earthly goods grow and we can help, as gard'ners,
retired guardians and priests can, make soil richer,
by leaven from the native soil,
fresh after fire, sparks the bloom

Patience, paid close attention, over time,
pay is as interest always is, compounding…
complex knots
slipping infinite loops generation systems
spinning straw to gold, bricks to build a tower…

to grow mustard into brocolli and cauliflower, prosper-o

we can engineer squash blossuming
be.. not spelch-pstpst-offt-listen,
- laughing
in my home are children, aged 6 to 13, across a seven year gap…
in my home with complete 5G internal Wifi, with cable
- copper, ah
- the humm, copper wire interference, acceptible as soft
- sub-spectra sfumati self-edged,- cut from whole cloth
Con, is with, fuse, is
blown… but, click, we are past that, where I live, on a pension.
I survived an oath in a war. And in America, the we, as
represented in Congress after Korea, and UCMJ, reach, reach,
- remember the ears that read, need to know
right, MP talk, uniform, all the exact same alignment and weave… for forsake, forsooth, forgotten gains, -- un-fore-gotten
upright walking, living concept, Phoebe Zeitgeist
- she made a word nest in my mind, on March 16, 1968.
- On a Douglas Flying Tiger insertion mission,
Flying to a foreign land more foreign than any thus far, redux.

Surreal stepped up to real, realms of preception, Metaverse/
uniform code under it all, we wished for this, can we, can we,

please, walk back in and watch the shadows morph to home sized I-max with true-fi dolby optimized to your very own, humanity
verified self--
- eyes up, look where we were when ever, then be come you now known as dear reader, responsibility free, cookie or no?
Be any mind you find you can wear with no wish to lie,
the wrong mind set with the ears and eyes, and we cannot lie…
you lose.
The whole ritual of prayer and supersites, tics, ****. We glow…

once illegal exposure
confidential, super-secret, super-positioned tyrannical systems,

whole cloth leprosy, black mold to dust time sequence…
-- such minds as fed us Elliot and Thorough Error-prone Poses,

as seen from the repressed mind of an unassimulated inate-ifity,
We are none of us, Adam sons, his model had nor repro circuits.

Hey, once there had to be something akin to ****** birth,
really, mitochondria developed virally, just fine, so, so fine,

imagine, we got the cell, a wall, with enzyme will efforts on the doors, we open to need, and useful matter is accepted,
as in another phase we open to expel the uselesshit, which then fills the red corpuscles, which use iron to hold the load.

Flushing blushing bride, Mito-mom, her daughters, imagine…

trackless wasteland, aftermath of minor miscalculation
in the dancing cosmos, whirling
whiling, smiling

I made it. 2022, Everest Pax, is the real name
of my youngest grand son, who randomly
reassures me he loves me, as though he wishes me
to not let that slip, naturally, his version of me is fragile,

what he imagines I am can disappear, in a day,
like Uncle Mike, and Uncle Dennis, and Uncle Richard,
and Uncle Remus…
none of whom were alive, when Everest Pax was named,
by his mother, with no input from me, save
the covenant aspect in the who gives this wombed man…
common pagan ritual adapted to post-Jesus Christ-sanity.

X-mas, nada mas. Agree, and take the cookie,
or risk another death,
on the real wrong battlefield… Well, what the hell… hero
or legend in my mind, thinking, what would any who do?
Raw raw raw
Katelyn Rew Aug 2022
I dance out my anger in the name of the priestess,
draw in her power to extinguish my unrest.
I worship my body in a state of undress,
let my rage break free in radical protest.
I surrender myself to this sacred process,
stomping my feet like an unbridled tempest.
ALC Aug 2022
The tempest builds in its confined earthly cavity,
Swirling and crushing its source.
It roars searching for escape,
Thundering out with torrential rains.
Lighting sparks through veins
Escaping in blistering snaps.

The soul relishes in the primal storm,
Yearning for a greater release,
A larger typhoon to rip this earth away.
To shatter the shell constraining its rage.
It shakes with monumental tremors,
Succumbing it’s structure,
to rubble on the floor.
-ALC August 14, 2022
Descovia Jul 2022
The time will come
Where my words will
forever remain as unforbidden memories
Left by those that remember
me from our legacy in creation.
Wielding the pen is a concept
a complex human as myself
will never achieve the skill-set to master.
It's a calling for me to wield justice and harmony
My time to equip the sword, will be my destiny soon.
I'm not afraid of the battle ahead.
I have slayed demons stronger than my own
Fought against my alter ego and argued with my conscious for answers
Witnessed guardian angels endure tragic falls.

The pen is mightier than the sword
The sword completes the point and cuts down the objective differently
I am not afraid to die protecting the world I love
It's all a cost for new age peace & awakening on the other side
I will not continue a cycle of hatred!
_ I love every part of you and it's worth fighting for_
I appreciate all of you for pushing me.
Motivating me. Inspiring me. Completing me.
In every imaginable way to be the best of me.
A stronger father. Advanced writer. A healer amongst all souls.
CJ Jul 2022
Fire up your talk boxes
Life’s such a bore
Until we discover
Today’s Rage du Jour

Do we have to turn Red
if they’re feeling Blue?

Does screaming more loudly
make it any more true?

Is it fate we must hate if
They want to make it great?

Must our faces turn redder if
They want to build back better?

What if we hear different voices?
And what if they make different choices?

Do we choose to lash out
always feel justified
As our fears turn to rage
and we’re bloated with pride?

Who among us sees clearly?
Whose judgment is never astray?

What great one among us holds just the right viewpoints
to keep cyber pitchforks at bay?

He said sinless stoneholders
could fire away
Yet there’s rocks hurling
constantly every which way

Can’t we sew up our lips
and ***** up our our ears
and realize there’s much
we can learn from our peers?

It’s hard to see it through our spite
But life is rarely black or white

Whatever happened to nuance?
When did we lose the gray?
How did this digital mob get the power to police every last thing we say?

There’s a whole vibrant world in 4K
We’re all welcome to come out and play
Let’s not label them Other
When they’re truly our brother
Only Kindness can show us the way
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