"aggress" poems
I'm tested everyday,
Tempted to throw away
The sanity that's kept my mind at bay
If inconveniences are shadows,
then troubles are ink-blotted water
trickling through the canals of my temporal lobes
which causes me to follow
any thoughts of failure instead of success
better to wallow in bed then get dressed
I almost forget that I am blessed.
I aggress the trickling pain
by staring skyward
like a man seeking the opportunity
to fly
soaring above the problems that cloud the eyes
Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 6:20 PM UTC
In the thick evening fog
the man walks with his dog
-
The two friends roam leash-less
A bond of no, oppress, aggress, distress
-
They wandered, trailing close but still apart
Yet, never so exceedingly to miss the beat of the other’s heart
-
He breezed on by my petty stroll
looked to me and sang, “Hello”
-
The black dog saw a squirrel, darted towards the bend
I panicked for a moment, “He gonna lose that friend!”
-
Panicky, panicky, pondering, what is loyalty?
Faithful is a friend that never will leave me
-
Their love inspired how beautiful devotion can be
To stay, without being chained, freely.
-
Leading ahead or following quietly behind
I am His and He is mine, without stress of mind.
-
The dog waited and wagged with the squirrel
engaging about his friendly man and the feeling girl.
Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 8:55 PM UTC
Godspeed, Gunslinger
May your gunshots ring
in distant thunder
while the angels sing
Godspeed, Night-Walker
May your axe bury
in Hell's vile stalker
with a great fury
Godspeed, huntress
May you bring vengeance
in the great Aggress
bringing forth penance
Godspeed, Death's Aeon
May you smite your foe
in midst Hell's Legion
bringing forth the woe
Godspeed, Lord Ever-Dark
May your shadows find
ways to make their mark
etched within the mind
Jan 21, 2013
Jan 21, 2013 at 8:18 PM UTC
We rave, and hailed, all hail the King
A lord who’s lowed, n’ yet, supreme
The savior of wars and of many greed
To govern and yield the land of the free
For tis clear he knows how we became
A root, and a leaf; let’s all hail the king!
This is Liberia!
A chest to aggress with hunger n’ thirst
That fruitfully enjoy climbing the rates
And faintly encourage pointing the worst
To soak n’ appraise the young's of the freed
Whose lost in the land of which they came
A branch, and a leaf; a transparent cry!
This is Liberia!
We rave, and hailed, we want the king
A man who’s loved, n’ yet, disesteem
The sculptor of deeds, and of many glee
To seize n’ dictate the land of undeveloped
For tis loud his assets are well developed
A leaf, and a root; let’s all boo the king!
This is Liberia!
A quest to possess the likeness of Christ
That truthfully enjoy the gees of versed
And skillfully encourage the act of digress
To juiced and yield off the land of the free
Fo tis clear he don’t know how we became
A leaf, and a branch; a transcendent lie!
This is Liberia!
Inspired by: Falz song- “This is Nigeria”
Childish Gambino Song- “This is America”
“I can do all things through Christ who strengthen me”
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 6:54 AM UTC
I do not walk in measured tread,
I cannot spare the time;
And steady pace is better suited to the dead
Or projects more sublime.
I see them dressed in garb of green
As best befits the land
That harbours jihadist and others more obscene
And not their native sand.
They bear allegiance to no state
That may have sheltered them,
But spread instead their ugly message born of hate
And anxious to condemn.
It would be easy to cast blame
On perpetrators of
The outrage that most freshly has induced our shame
And dissipates our love.
But this would be to hide our guilt
At similar events
That other so-called freedom fighters have but built
And empty rage foments.
The question that we must address
Is why these souls should choose
Defection from their lives of love, and thus aggress?
Why do they not refuse?
What is there that holds them in thrall
And draws them to a place
That their forefathers chose to leave for freedom’s call?
Is it a search for grace?
Is it the hope of paradise
Should they in jihad die?
Seventy-two-virgins is perhaps the promise
On which they then rely?
They claim that Allah is their lord,
that Islam is their life.
They spurn the pen; relying solely on the sword.
The Quran is a knife
with which to cut the Gordian knot
that engirdles their guide.
The jihad route to paradise, the unbeliever’s lot.
But we are mystified.
What must we then on our side do
that hold freedom dearly?
I just demand the freedom that I give to you
Car moi, je suis Charlie.
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 12:04 PM UTC
I keep seeing the image of a giant
looking down at the world
fearful to walk for crushing those
he can barely see
It comes to me
as I walk to class during the week
It comes to me
as I talk to friends on the weekend
It comes to me
as I think of anything and everything,
and for the sake of god,
I cannot shake it
It comes to me
as a whisper
nibbling at my ear
then
a *****
that burst my eardrum
telling me to
write
Write!
WRITE!
write for the sake of all that is holy,
all that you value, all that is good,
of the giant that you see in yourself,
and the ants you in see in others.
and I cower to its yelling at first,
but then I grow firmer, taller, bolder,
rising bit by bit to face the monster
living in the back of my mind
by the time I stop my growth
I am the size of sky scraper
Everest looking cowardly below
and my beast looking a microbe
at my feet.
this is when I topple
I do not aggress my shadow
for I know it poses no threat
so I fall
down
down
down
my back moving
forward
my head not seeing
where
I am to
go
I fell down
happily
hoping
for the warm covers of my bed
and a good night’s rest
to greet me
Nov 6, 2010
Nov 6, 2010 at 7:57 PM UTC
Anxiously hypothetical,
These dreams that surround me
Are glued together with the flow of time.
They strain the conscious dimension,
Which both separates and connects
The multitudes of I’s,
To flex and bend
Until they touches themselves at every point;
Illuminating to us whispers of infinitude.
As we move farthest from the light
And sink the deepest within ourselves,
Twisted creatures aggress upon us
And glittering sirens beckon us to their embrace.
With the splintering light of morning,
A first gasp pulls you from the water
And troubled footsteps wash away
The glories and nuisances
Of that surreality whose path you walked.
Separated from the present,
by a single moment in a single thought.
Nov 30, 2012
Nov 30, 2012 at 3:53 PM UTC
My days are filled with anxiety
The world ****** up with all these societies
Why can’t I just get help.
Tears flowing down my face screaming SOS
But nobody can hear me, or don’t want to, I guess
The anxiety builds and builds with aggress
It’s time to just end it is what my mind says
I’m sorry to my family and friends
I really can’t wait till all this pain ends
Feb 9, 2021
Feb 9, 2021 at 1:26 PM UTC
You are fake when you are there.
You make me lead a life of damage so disappear.
We are not talking all that gobbledygook.
If you do not know what you did to my life just look.
No more of me trying to placate around.
I can not find anyone to listen right now.
You just scuttle along your business.
Because you ripped me away from my true path of this existence.
Always the one to make me a maladroit.
Sometimes I think you do this to annoy.
It made me feel like a pipsqueak in a vast universe.
You will never make the grade with the past you coerce.
You were always the one to instigate me to aggress.
A kind of quality I could not digest.
My heart is beating like a rataplan.
If you think I can’t stop you, I can.
This is my final written gesture.
Now my life will no longer fester.
I grow forever fonder.
Because I will no longer sit and ponder.
As the years grow faster.
The years you took forever will remain a disaster.
I have been made an ugly creature.
So sit back and enjoy what fight I have left in here.
Here are the new rules.
I have you in stitches, so do not move.
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 1:38 PM UTC
Taken to the Rock,
an unknowing sacrifice,
Fathers should protect,
not aggress and ****
but when he follows,
and agrees to the plan,
eternity is in place.
Jul 11, 2013
Jul 11, 2013 at 10:51 AM UTC
If she
did hollowly
aggress me
in distemper
she's but
a shoe
in these
oboes then
a girl
as somebody
that shan't
belay my
forethought in
ways that
shapely her
heart that
matters more
Jan 3, 2018
Jan 3, 2018 at 3:33 PM UTC
Dearest of Steam, your breath falls less
from static breast on limping arms
and clouded ears, in-sane aggress.
Go now confess your false alarms,
through seven storms my port undressed,
yet in this chest, your chaplet burns,
my heart returns, in letters blessed,
in scores distressed with lessons learned,
the cries I heard, I can’t forget.
Nov 17, 2019
Nov 17, 2019 at 1:26 PM UTC