"altercations" poems
Though altercations of a secessionist sound stern,
Their minds are stuck and never learn.
Through a disabled rebellion their built,
Words designed to deplete one's self are spilt.
Although it's said consummation executes in the leaning vice of the secessionist,
The desecration becomes the birth of the segregationist.
The segregation of closed mindedness with those of the voice.
The voice has sculpted our worlds obedience choice by choice.
The voice has seen demons at their best and angels at their worst,
There is a reason why this world hasn't burst.
You see, our world is seen through a lens,
This lens doesn't defy our worth and script the uncleansed.
It simply sets a standard for the closed minded to follow,
The voice, doesn't have a standard to follow, this voice makes the lens for those left to follow tomorrow.
-Joseph B Schneider
Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 7:06 PM UTC
Rivalries are an excuse for animosity to be abused.
A tradition to explain the irrational and depraved.
A justification for future insubordination
Of logical arguments by the sane.
Beasts competed with one another through physical altercations,
But we have evolved to call everyone our brother.
So why is it that we must see fighting between one another?
Why is it that we may not all show that we're lovers?
Is there something wrong with the tolerance of each other?
Whatever rationalization is created for the promotion of hatred,
Should be abolished and ashamed,
That it may show its head and become a vein for placing blame,
Is unsettling all the same.
We are all too similar, and that should not promote altercations of an individual,
Rather it should be used as a connection to the familiar.
It should be used in stride with the builder
Of peace, and a reason for all this nonsense to cease.
We have developed into adults,
and it is time to show this with amiable results.
By citing a rivalry as traditional is exactly the reason
It is sinful.
One day we may see the end of this spitefully built fence,
By breaking down the wall separating far too many of us all.
I hope it is my lifetime here, for failing to unite us,
is my deepest of fears.
Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 5:12 AM UTC
Isolationist theories
of my brutal development
A mask
In the world of passengers
Regretting every slight disruption
Making icy chatters of teeth
As we wonder
How will these small altercations
Affect the grand course
of my surreptitious collapse?
Just a violent object on an axis
A washer head
thrown into a tumultuous ocean of visions
A flickering correspondent
Lying on an abolition
The worst things happening to the best people
It spins and breaths and *****
This molested scared demon
Anally penetrating all that I believe is genuine
Reels of my childhood development
Played on repeat to search for ammunition
The tunneling rib cages of my insanity
The forest nymph of all that is good
The one who created me
Locked away in a windowless world
Analyzed as if lockness was one of them
I always thought it would be me
Falling to where I could not be found
How am I still standing?
Nov 30, 2010
Nov 30, 2010 at 9:35 AM UTC
I guess you could say I'm supportive of gay marriage
Because if a boy and a girl can get married
Then a boy and a boy can get married
And if a boy and a boy can get married
Then a girl and a girl can get married
And I say this because I don't care who they marry
As long as it isn't who I want to marry
And I guess you could say I'm supportive of smoking
Because I don't care if you destroy your lungs
As long as it isn't around me
I don't care if you decided to sit in a smoke filled haze for the rest of your life
Wondering when it all went wrong as long as you
Don't call me at three am saying you have no choices
And you've given up.
And I guess you could say I'm supportive of selling
your body, mind and soul
Because I don't care as long as I'm not written into the fine print
And you're not signing me up for something I don't want to partake in.
See I'm selfish, I'm supportive of a lot of things
As long as the rioters don't come to my door demanding changes
And the altercations and "long live prosperity".
I don't care if it counters my ingrained beliefs,
It's not the end of the world
Just anther person doing what they want to do
So I guess you could say I am a liberal,
But I'd say I'm just too busy to give a ****
About controlling people's lives and that instead
Of making people conform I'd rather
Be getting **** done to actually
Change The World
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 9:54 PM UTC
She holds me with fierceness and fragility
her veneer like old paint on a utility door
so unsure with the internally rendered pain
of a thousand failing days
I will lightly sand those cruel flakes
with smooth care expectant of improvement
and reset the broken hinges she has been
left to hang on, replacing the bolt and lock
so she has full control of who she lets pass
She holds me with fierceness and fragility
longing for alterations not altercations
different times of high hopes holding
within her wearing frame and in that space
you will find me with one ear open
Soothing the doubts of a hundred
internal put downs, that can no longer be
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 1:19 AM UTC
Here we are again
We're caught up in this dangerous game for two
Playing our sick game, hoping the other will loose
Spinning left to right, we pick up the fight
I chase you and you chase me
It's the same old thing.
You beg and then I plead
Neither of us willing to give up the lead
We switch from time to time
And of course there are several altercations
Because you are the Cat and I am the Mouse,
we don't belong together, you see.
Try as we might, we always fight
You want the milk and I want the cheese
We never seem to agree.
But here we are again, picking up our dance
Wishing that this time it might actually last
Because you are the Cat and I am the Mouse,
we don't belong together, you see.
But this time you hoped and this time I agreed,
that the Cat and the Mouse could actually be together
The music decrescendos, the tango is done.
The Cat and Mouse walk out, side by side, as one.
Sep 9, 2013
Sep 9, 2013 at 9:51 PM UTC
Precious complications
The will to be impressed
Has gone away
To far forward
Mindless feeble altercations
The fear of what is left
Is hear to stay
Please refrain from harmony
If you can't see
What is infront of you
I'll be forced to tell a lie
Don't make me take it to the grave
My left hand sank through a bible
Waiting for the world to burn
Beyond the day
I was waiting for freedom
True freedom travels in a mask
Disguised as tainted oxygen
Breath and believe the true
The abyss is calling you
I found
Life above
The cannons of bliss
Firing In the dark
We broke
Love below
Untimely cliches
So we could leave a mark
These eyes
Built the gun
Now who is the man
Trying to speak the truth
I found life above
The cannons of bliss
I will remember you
No need toy with stop and go
The will to be alone
Wakes up the day
Unquestionable treason
Crack a smile
and break the bones
The hands of birthright given thrones
Move in the shade
Please keep you distance
I will refrain from here
Where uncertainty is clear
It's a life I'm accustomed to
Moving through the motions
To save me
If you can change my mind
I ask you do it under wraps
In secret searching for freedom
Now and then
I'll attempt to defend the pain
Refurbish the past
Try to remember why
Now and then
I'll attempt to defend the pain
Prove that I'm insane
And make my way from there
If we can
Let's remember to **** the pain
Revisit the facts
And know that this is why
True freedom travels in a mask disguised as tainted oxygen
Breath and believe the truth
In not allowing cannon fire
To become white noise to you
I found
Life above
The cannons of bliss
Firing In the dark
We broke
Love below
Untimely cliches
So we could leave a mark
These eyes
Built the gun
Now who is the man
Trying to speak the truth
I found life above
The cannons of bliss
I will remember you
Jul 11, 2014
Jul 11, 2014 at 6:40 PM UTC
Soothing that we aren't at war
Soothing that the thunderous skies
Show bright quiescent lightening flash
In battle field where no man dies.
Soothing that we sued for peace
Soothing that the tempers calmed
In altercations' quarrel lake
Where differences are drowned or charmed.
Soothing that your grey eyes sleep
Soothing that I walk away,
Walked to seek another life
Where conflicts' brat is held at bay.
Soothing now the day is still
Soothing that the air is calm,
Tho now I long for happenstance
In cut and ****** of battles' harm.
Marshalg
Becalmed.
4 November 2012
Nov 3, 2012
Nov 3, 2012 at 6:58 PM UTC
Questions curdle
Each disdainful day
A glowering cloud
The threat of rain
Pounding footsteps
Troughs of anguish
Wavering moments
Images of altercations
The pleasure of detesting
Chocolate cake
Flavoured with money
Resentful ripples
Washed up on rocks
Drowning sounds
Solemn and deep
Slowly sinking
Disconcerted water birds
Shimmering reflections
Echoes in the darkness
Displaced by contradictions
Clanging, banging
Bouncing *****
Dissolving memories
Misplaced optimism.
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 12:04 AM UTC
*Sheer energy flows within every drop of my lifeblood
Absorbed into my waking essence
Meshed with an intense passion to survive the floods
Crashing against all my defenses
I am washed in an incandescent rush of strength
Empowered by incantations
True survival is my goal in countless lengths
Overcoming all heated altercations
Abundant vitality brushes each fiber of my lion’s share
Continuing always, despite ill reasons
Zealously springing forth anew from danger’s air
Regardless of unusual seasons
I run with high-spirited air underneath my feet
Accomplishing all that I choose
Yet still holding a spirit within my chest so sweet
With feelings which can still be bruised*
Sep 21, 2010
Sep 21, 2010 at 7:47 AM UTC
He let them win
Somehow their repetitive chatter & noise crept right in
Quietly & unseen they anchored their lies & fabrications
Truths were quickly fading into arguments & altercations
In his head their noise just echos & echos in a shout
He battled & fought, but it wasn't well enough to keep them out
The echos only got louder & louder
More & more he began to doubt her
Thoughts began dwelling
The echos were now just yelling
Hoping truth he'd soon forget
& Trusting was something he'd always just regret
Proud of what they've done
The echos thought they've won
But his thoughts weren't able to convince his heart & soul
He knew without her, he would never be whole
Feelings, really now, this time they were true & real... truly not a chance to break
& As for the echos.....well they were just a silented mistake
Jun 9, 2017
Jun 9, 2017 at 8:12 AM UTC
“It’s time for bed,” was never a problem for me,
I was good at sleeping, I could do it longer than anyone else I knew and they
couldn’t wake me if they tried,
I was in over my ankles, waist, chest and head,
Five hundred pillows and a duvet that was heavy enough to suffocate all the
car horns in my mind,
I didn’t have to count the sheep so they sat there and ate grass,
Because I could pass with all the flying colours refracted in crystallised
dreams,
In the pitch black I won all the altercations against those demons that bite,
The narcoleptic warrior is champion of the night, the steady rise and fall of
her chest, the flutter of twitching lashes like spiders legs, arms drawn
tight around ******* and waist for protection against the ties that bind,
It’s a **** art,
But I didn’t realise my excellence was subjective,
For my parents it was the ****** in the night,
Fox screams that would send them running to my side, only to find a steady
heartbeat and lethargic child, head to the pillow and snoring,
For friends and family who came to stay, for them it was wide eyed, white
knuckled, lying awake and clutching the sheets as I cried and whimpered in
the next room,
Trauma spilling over catatonic lips in the most wretched of yelling, pulled
out in a long, choking strings of invisible nightmare,
For my sister, it was ***** ‘cow’, **** and all the other curses that
I kicked or hit her with in my minefield of a sleeping pattern,
Bible versus, bolt upright, head spinning 360 degrees,
Charon won’t let me pass because someone wasn’t kind enough to put a coin
in my mouth and now I’m walking a shore I won’t remember in the morning,
I don’t remember in the morning, I’ve been buried in sleep,
Not until I see them unshaven and weary at the table, and I know they’ve been
leaking electricity,
Is it possible to be good at something if no one thinks you are?
I was good at it, once,
In over my ankles, waist, chest and head,
Five hundred pillows and a duvet heavy enough to suffocate,
To suffocate my talent, I lie back and count to ten,
Sleep mask, sleep tablet, sleep therapy, I try not to let it happen again,
I keep the nightlight on now, the sun my only sleeping scar,
How can you be good at something if no one thinks you are?
I don’t think I’ll ever grow out of it, but I’ve stopped reaching for the
pin-pricks of white light in those starry night skies,
And now, when I lay awake in my bed, I’m afraid to close my eyes
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 3:07 PM UTC
after one last summer of cottages, palm-beers floating on the lake,
faceplanting into the waves while trying to kneeboard,
badly-planned but perfectly-timed trips to toronto for shows
(getting kurt viled)
the family casa (host of
many ragers and teenage kicks) was sold and georgian bay was no longer home.
my parents bought a new truck and moved what was
once 15 quesnelle drive
down to cape breton island, three quarter million in pocket
and i,
i had a resurgence of old feelings towards a girl i won't name
brought on by our rekindled friendship after the death
of my best friend, (nothin' helped me get thru those months
quite like that smile)
and after an embarrassing night spent having various altercations
(fisticuffs)
with a young birch tree behind my pal's place
i hopped in my '03 volvo and sped west like that old man once told
dean to do.
dust flying thru the open windows and my split knuckles
smilin' at the fat old sun.
that summer the bookstore,
where i bought so many weathered novels, died and
the man who was its overseer, with whom i spent so many evenings philosophizing over cups of joe in the closed-up shop ,
sort of faded away; i'd see him thursdays at the study sipping whatever he drank there in the corner and always felt too bad
about the closing of cottage books, ashamed in a word, to
ever go over and buy the guy a beer.
still don't know why.
guess i'm a bit of a *****
that drive out west was good. made 10 mixes in addition to CDs
i already had and slept on the highway side and stopped
where ever the hell i wanted to stop. smoked cigars while blazing over the pavement with my life in the backseat at 120 km/h
not knowing how to feel,
but doing alright.
Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 1:06 AM UTC
It's not that you should care,
I just wanted you to know.
Now with the story told,
It is time to go.
Changing words change again,
Here I change for someone else.
Altercations to be avoided,
Placing words upon a shelf.
edit: original poems removed
Second edit: I really regret ever removing these. The original poems have been lost for good.
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 2:07 AM UTC
Rumpled feathers wrinkled in time
switchfeet running on a half battery
a horrible situation if you aren't accustomed
but to the rest
an average day-
breakfast lunch and dinner
nutrients, calories, sustenance
cherry bombs make lovely sundae toppings
then all goes nuts-
kaboom, kaplow
may all the tall ones wear pin striped suits
and carry pinwheels
and pin buttons of political preference to breast pockets
out pops golden sunshine
rays of gamma and joy
proletariat eternity
cannot decide
between juvenile altercations
or the same ole same ole way of ********
Aug 7, 2012
Aug 7, 2012 at 11:48 PM UTC
As dear young children,
remember when we shared beliefs sitting on the swings?
and now on park benches, we find solace in the years the season brings.
Watching as the souls of the world live as kings,
when we were drunk on Halloween.
It was that night I realized what beauty was.
Our first night in the new apartment,
every room still empty.
We would get electricity tomorrow,
so we used candles.
I could see the mosaic glow of your face,
and it took me to a brand new place.
You were only wearing your underwear and my worn out sweater,
lying on the floor,
the floor that was covered in wine and scratch-offs.
The whispers of candles in the background.
My mind was wild, but now misused,
my eyes are a child that’s confused.
But my love will hold you when you’re sleeping,
and caress you when you’re weeping.
The season in your eyes,
it selectively identifies,
my face in the foam on the side of the glass,
right next to the episode of cries.
I only wish you were near me,
but you will never love me sincerely.
When will I escape these human emotions?
It feels like I only go through the motions.
Within that moment,
where the heated altercations wither away,
where the blazing screams end,
and the confessions really begin.
Where the funeral is quiet tears and melodic eulogies,
suppressed by the far cry of the brain,
filled with eternal apologies,
never to sustain.
Within his final thoughts before he hit the train.
Now we hold hands in a Eucharistic reunion,
only to steal our emotions from the young ones.
Every reflection of the light on the trees,
they taunt me with wonder and euphonic memories.
You won’t find a flame in my heart,
I've never been shown that part.
I’m a stranger to myself and that’s okay.
Jun 17, 2013
Jun 17, 2013 at 3:28 PM UTC
I am worth
christian childhoods
I am worth
hesitant hugs
I am worth
doubtful declarations
I am worth
useless ultimatums
I am worth
apathetic altercations
I am worth
queer questionings
I am worth
emotional endings
I am worth
better beginnings
I am worth
fearful friendliness
I am worth
gallant generosity
I am worth
ingenious individuality
I am worth
jaded jealousy
I am worth
kind kleptomania
I am worth
lost love
I am worth
masochistic musings
I am worth
sadistic sadness
I am worth
notorious negativity
I am worth
obvious obsession
I am worth
pathetic pain
I am worth
******** reactions
I am worth
tenacious truths
I am worth
vicious violence
I am worth
wry withering
I am worth
youthful yesterdays
I am worth
zany zoetry
I am worth
more than I
deserve
Feb 26, 2014
Feb 26, 2014 at 8:37 AM UTC
"With the awareness comes periods of days, sometimes weeks, when I have to avoid looking into a mirror. My self hate is so deep, so palpable, I fear I'll lunge at my own image, shatter the glass and cut myself with shards of broken reflection."
~Jax Teller (Sons Of Anarchy)
The mirror reflects images
Of past things I'd like to forget
Memories project ghosts that faded
Long ago after I built up my regrets
And that reflection shines through
All the different scenarios
Of this life that I've lived through
And heartbreaks, everywhere I go
Heartbreak, heathens, hounds and Hell
What wonderful whispers the mirror has to tell
I've heard them before - **** - they came from my core
Love was the loathing that turned into lore
**** the person in the mirror
The truth could not be clearer:
A monster spawned once the medicine cabinet filled with liquor
You hate me? Join the ******* club
I'm the ******* dartboard at the local pub
Then comes the crashing, the breaking, the cuts and bruises
Spectrums of pieces and shatters of truths
And yet it all just reflects right back to mistakes from our youth
The mirror, just an ugly reminder of shame with all the proof
But what can we do? How can we forget?
The images of the past can't change how they reflect
From another angle we could possibly alter the effect
But no altercations can take away the pain and regret
I take a walk to distance me from myself,
but there is no harbor for demons hiding from Hell
I tried my damnedest to become better,
but despite how earnest, I only grew bitter
Now, being sober just gives me the jitters
I can't be alone with the Devil inside
I can't change things when the problem is I
People see me and they are befuddled
I see only a shell when I pass by these puddles
Empty, that's all that's left of me
Nothing, there's nothing left to see
The mirror is blank, a black hole
Drained into space, the remnants of my soul
Blank reflections shattered against my heart
Feeling of hate and self doubt ripping me apart
The eyes staring back at me have no emotions
Wide gazes and high tides like endless oceans
This nothingness is completely consuming me
My life, love and happiness have been swept out to sea
Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 5:34 PM UTC
Sitting here, aimless still
Not sure what I'm supposed to feel.
full of tension
raising altercations
the way I approach this is exacerbation
I make it worse
by thinking of you
but if I want a heartbreak
I know what to do
just stop for a moment
and clearly think
just how much I've lost
and I'll clearly sink
into the depths
of a sea made of sadness
and my mind drops into a well of madness
Nov 25, 2010
Nov 25, 2010 at 4:02 PM UTC
My scars are simple, silly even
The result of shaving mishaps, stovetop altercations, mosquito bites, and the subsequent relentless scratching of said mosquito bites
These aren’t real scars
But I’ve seen true scars
I’ve seen that girl
The one whose mouth says she’s fine but whose eyes disagree
I’ve seen her, I’ve known her, and I’ve seen her real scars
Scars that aren’t simple
And not even close to silly
And intently watching her, I sit upon a wish:
That I could give her my scars instead.
Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 8:28 PM UTC
Like a viser I advise that you finally find your eyes
Peaked and bordered by a toque the sun cant stop to shine
Yet light obliviates eyeballs well adjusted to the rain
Can make the same eyeballs rise to re-perceive again
In this corporate quest investment is on par with love
Always carrying cash like a box of rubber gloves
Defend against the right to starve and strangle on the street
Gain the right to put a diamond right above my seat
Altercations alter authors read atop the altar
The Council of Nicaea building progress not to falter
Piling future thought like a towered Jenga game
Is funny *** it's true to say the atheists are the same.
Preachy ******** carrying Richard Dawkins in one hand
Sapping all that's holy from a gold block into sand
Crying because life is now a fight or flight response
A nihilist is just another ****** fanatic ****
A nihilist is the strangest
A suicide bomber using words
Making sure you understand it's worthless and it burns
Bombing every holy site stacked deep inside your brain
Proving that within this life you've got nothing to gain
He pretends you come from blank and end up there again
Forgetting that's impossible,
Hypothetically insane.
If we came from nothing, return to nothing
Where's all this from, then?
Nothing can't exist by implication, but we can?
When I say that everything is nothing
What I mean:
Is nothing is the everything that we all can clearly see.
Feb 9, 2013
Feb 9, 2013 at 3:27 PM UTC
Alone & solemn..
a sentimental probem..
resentment & hate, only fate..
breakfast morning, leaving mourning..
breathing overtakes, self absorbing..
Loving great & holding less..
Clenching more, feels depressed..
only person, feels like a juggle..
tearing heart, constant struggle..
so what if the worst really happens..
reoccuring, inevitably fastened..
I lose you & my happiness..
even through an easy mean..
I'll gleam through, a pleasant being..
so take my soul & stomp it out..
For it wont cast through everlasting doubt..
Then hate will rein & I will fade..
because truth will conquer & life will invade..
with whirly eyes, red & throbbing..
horrored ***** with their knees locking..
babies not a truthful sight..
with all infertile, feeling strive..
wondering what if all, succumbs to this..
exhaling bliss & inhaling ****
So I'll blister for just one more lie..
humanity enduring the pain through time..
similar emotion altercations..
a lifetime of abomination..
reincarnated, into a new life..
a silly soulful prototype..
Mar 30, 2012
Mar 30, 2012 at 6:49 AM UTC
Firstly Hand me over to the pouring rain
Let me be soaked in that flooring pain
Be sure to let me me enjoy my goring gain
For I surely believe not in my plastic fame,but
Let me enjoy this acidic game I designed , Cos
I know not the rules of this drastic shame
Lastly Let me enjoy my intoxicating
Oxytocin that preserves my metamorphosis
To an ignominious state that will prevail
Through my youthful altercations.
Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 3:13 PM UTC
Aristotle’s arrhythmic articulations
Appeared too apologetic for Aphrodite's amusements
Aroused by antisocial media’s alacritous abundance
Amidst arteriosclerosis and amphibiously obeisant Ophiuchus
Asclepius' ascendance was almost an abortion
Arrested by Apollo’s amorous attempts at aphrodisia
Ambidextrous Artemis’ androgynous appointments
Awakened ancient antipathies accentuating allopathic artifacts
Altercations arose among ambitious acolytes and Athena’s anorexic acidoses
Awkward Adonis actively agonized by alarming aneurysms
Allowed Antigone’s ambivalent armistice an aperture of acceptance
Appointing an ambiguously appealing additive to the Argonauts
An anaerobic Acropolis arose amidst ********** asphyxiations
As Amazonian armpit hair advocates approved artificial insemination
Aug 19, 2019
Aug 19, 2019 at 8:33 PM UTC
On a whim—
I said yes.
I went to their place
ready for the awkward tension.
But she’s a good friend.
I’d simply ignore
the prodding questions
of her boyfriend
and their uncomfortable verbal altercations
always ending in “babe.”
It was especially
uneasy
that night.
He had it in his head
“his girl” and myself shtupped.
She was annoyed,
I attempted cordiality.
He’d be a good lawyer—
he asked again,
a different way.
I take it back,
he’d be an awful lawyer.
He’s a ****
She offers to drive me home.
As we prepare to enter her car,
she noticed one of the tires.
a little deflated—
three nails.
She told me had I declined
the invitation to visit
she’d probably be stranded
on a highway somewhere.
I stood amazed,
knowing my split-second yes
reverberated throughout space,
and time,
revealing an alternate future
now avoided.
Aug 13, 2011
Aug 13, 2011 at 10:42 AM UTC