#grendel
I am so sorry Mother.
I am an ugly, horrid creature.
I am monstrous.
My face scares children.
Thick slabs of ebony skin blind my vision.
I have no nose.
I cannot breathe.
My lungs have never been satisfied by the crisp, Jipe air.
I cannot speak.
My lips are sealed from the day of my being.
My head is smooth and bare like an infant.
My crown is missing, stolen from me.
It has been stripped from our people since the Windsor King arrived.
I am a monster.
I hate myself.
My hunger consumes me.
It is all encompassing.
I cannot stop it.
But I need to eat.
I have put it off for too long.
I have to eat.
I am going to eat.
Mother, I did it.
You told me to suppress my urges.
I am a horrible son.
I am sorry.
I could not resist.
I loathed the taste.
It was raw and impure.
Its bitter taste seeped into my throat.
I tried to stop it, but I couldn’t.
They taunted me, the King's men.
So I chased them.
I chased them into their house.
I found the unlucky one hiding under a bed.
The quick patter of his heartbeat echoed in my mind, guiding me to his fate.
His death was slow and numbing.
His skin withered like oil, seeping into my essence.
Every piece of him became a piece of me until his absence engulfed the room.
The essence of him consumed me.
It rejuvenated me.
I was divine.
I could see.
Nothingness faded into light, then to color, and shapes.
The heaviness in my chest faded away.
I could breathe.
I was weightless.
My hair, once absent, grew to prickles on my scalp.
I could finally part my lips.
For the first time I could laugh.
I could scream.
So that’s what I did.
I laughed and screamed and cried to the world.
Overwhelmed by my senses, I did not notice the second man approach me.
Sorry Mother.
I did not notice the man take out his sword.
Sorry Mother.
And I did not notice the man slice my head off of my neck until it was too late.
Sorry Mother.
Once overcome with ecstasy, my body rests in the soil of our home.
My head, stolen from you, is now a trophy perched above the king’s throne.
I apologize, Mother.
Nov 28, 2025
Nov 28, 2025 at 1:26 AM UTC
Don’t you feel bad for Grendel,
His mind is poisoned by the devil.
He is just a lost boy in a harsh world against him.
Voices in his head push him towards the brim.
He hates the world that he roams alone,
The Dragon’s charm; his flesh hard as stone.
The Shaper's voice; his head is aching,
Wealtheow’s beauty; his heart is breaking.
Grendel's mother’s embrace—a silent plea,
In her shadowed depths, he struggles to be free.
From Beowulf’s strength, he cannot hide,
The warrior's might marks Grendel’s tide.
Grendel's anger seals his fate,
Fatal madness will not abate.
His demise is in the mead hall,
“Poor Grendel’s had an accident. . . . So may you all.”
Oct 15, 2024
Oct 15, 2024 at 11:58 PM UTC
the dirt
continues to grow and fester
beneath my fingernails.
but i don't stop groveling
down to my knees,
i don't stop to breathe;
to rest.
you, who bears god's love;
whose love i could not know.
you and your sin-stained palms
continue to enshrine
dilapidated ghost towns.
i undo the stitches on my wounds
and pick at the grisly scabs
under your scrutiny,
yet you chastise me
for the pool of blood
bespeckled on your feet.
the darkness
already dropped,
the night hides me once more.
the living sorrow,
simmered, bitter, and fresh;
everything remains.
Aug 10, 2022
Aug 10, 2022 at 11:49 PM UTC
Meet me at the edge of the mountain
With your arms around me, breath heavy
Take me away, towards the persimmon sun.
Rest your head upon my shoulder
And share with me authors you read fondly.
Send me to a land, where gleaming parties and revolutions are canon.
Sit and read to me of Grendel
And the darklings of Keats, his solemn pastorials
Protect me from all, Sir Beowulf, my knight with bravery ineffable.
Traverse with me the woods
Away from the cabin, and to the pond.
Tell me of the leaves you see-- muddy, mucky, made webbed.
Sing to the moon the poetry of your swoon
The light that cares and dusts away your desk
O Gabriel, my knight and day, scare away his hooves.
Lead me to a life far from Auerbach
Yet so near, through your words on our mountain walk.
Dec 30, 2019
Dec 30, 2019 at 1:16 AM UTC
As children, we are told to be a Beowulf.
To be brave and to put others before ourselves,
To be the strongest and the best,
We are told to be the perfect hero.
In this day and age, it is never really okay to make mistakes, even if they say it is.
We have a drive within us that being the best and the strongest is our only option.
We put the pressure on ourselves to be the Beowulf, which only causes us to wake up the Grendel.
But the real problem is, we are ashamed of that.
We are ashamed of fear, which causes us to act out and create evil.
But when you think about it, what is bravery without fear.
Because the truth is, no one is ever going to be one-hundred percent a Beowulf.
All of us have a little Grendel inside, it’s called being human.
We yell, we scream, we scare each other,
We lie, we cheat, we judge.
We are vicious and hurtful with our words.
At times, we see no light in our hearts,
We let evil win.
We are often so far from perfect.
In fact, the Grendel in me is sometimes more prominent than the Beowulf,
But we have to realize that sometimes, that’s okay.
You see, if not for the Grendel in me, the Beowulf wouldn’t know it’s true strength.
For the Beowulf in me, within all of us, would not fight nearly as hard, because it would have nothing to overcome.
The point isn’t to be ashamed of the Grendel within,
The point is to keep pushing through so the Grendel doesn’t win.
Do not isolate yourself and hide away in the depths of darkness when you can’t seem to find the light.
Find the Beowulf within yourselves,
Embrace it’s fierce loyalty and drive to destroy evil.
Welcome the light within you,
If you do that, you will win the war within yourself.
To all those out there desperately trying to be the hero:
Accept that losing the battle sometimes is okay,
Try your best to win the war,
But do not take on that army alone,
Because the person who fights with no one by their side is bound to lose eventually.
Because how can you be a hero, when you have no one by your side?
Dec 8, 2018
Dec 8, 2018 at 1:13 AM UTC
Don't you feel bad for Grendel,
His mind is poisoned by the devil.
He is just a lost boy in a harsh world against him.
Voices in his head push towards the brim
He hates the world that he roams alone.
The Dragons charm; his flesh hard as stone.
The Shaper's voice; his head is aching
Wealthoew's beauty; his heart is breaking
Grendel's anger seals his fate
Fatal madness will not abate
His demise is in the mead hall.
He dies from accident; So may you all....
Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 12:42 PM UTC
TWANG TWANG TWANG
Oh how the twang of man’s harp
Disrupts my precious sleep.
TWANG TWANG TWANG
It’s never put at rest,
“Control yourself,” I thought.
TWANG TWANG TWANG
My rage grew deep,
I could hear them laugh at me, already an outcast in this young world.
TWANG TWANG TWANG
Somehow, almost as if I were possessed,
I began to **** them one by one.
TWANG TWANG TWANG
Night by night the casualties grew,
I couldn’t control myself, it’s a demon’s curse.
TWANG TWANG TWANG
I kept killing them,
Until the final night.
TWANG TWANG TWANG
The young hero pulled out my arm
And raised it up in a bitter-sweet victory.
TWANG TWANG TWANG
Away I ran into my lair
What have I done?
TWANG TWANG TWANG
Was this the pain I inflicted on man?
The pain was throbbing and strong, like no pain I had ever felt.
Finally the world went black.
The twang was gone.
At peace I will lay forever.
I hope mother won’t make the same mistake.
Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 4:49 PM UTC
With those acid wash jeans
With that full sleeve of twirling black ink
With the drapes of long hair
I thought that we could leave the xplosion-club
After the confection of colognes
After the South African red wine
After the pounding music all night
Something **** about
A statue that can move
It's eyes
Something **** about
A man that thinks
Openly
We took the subway back to my apartment
You picked up a pebble and tossed it
I was quieter now
Would I let him inside? I have to at this point it seems
A charming prince
is a charming prince
I open the door.
Nothing bad happens, as I expect
I am a little paranoid I don't know why
(The club flashes back)
The door closes without its usual creek,
And we're inside.
Me and the charmer; I wonder, was he once a frog?
I have a funny feeling that I think came from the wine
Am I trashed or
Does he have horns?
Slimy toadskin, red eyes, 1000 inches of claws
Suddenly
Are upon me, Oh my God!
I tell it to leave mE ALONE,
It doesn't listen to me.
Every time I try to slip out of it's grip
I slide into a claw
Gushing this stuff from the movies,
It covered the bed and then the floor,
It probably leaked out from under the apartment door.
My cellphone rings in my pants pocket
I can't reach it because by then this grendel thing had broken me
Into two legs, a torso, two arms
And a decapitated head
While it eats my right lung, my left hand tries to desperately crawl away
He pokes it with a great fork; no escaping crums
The awful amphibian finishes and leaves forever.
He's never coming back
A winner-and-loser kind of *** I guess.
Mar 25, 2012
Mar 25, 2012 at 9:54 PM UTC