Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
cv Apr 2015
she was a fierce girl:
her wild, red hair stood out among the rest
her hazel eyes sparkled despite the angsts.

she worked hard, refusing to sell herself,
even if his deadline was nearing.

(she promised him.)

her hope and naivety were smashed into pieces
as she slowly ran out of time.

(his time.)

without his knowledge,
she degraded herself.

("As long as it's for you, this pain doesn't hurt me.")

her health deteriorated
as his became better.

curled up in a corner, naked and bare,
she counted the money she earned.

and smiled.



he was a plain boy:
his brown hair wouldn't stay flat
his blue eyes, dull.

he thought of others before of himself
and that's why she fell in love.

(it was the same for him too.)

he collapsed one day,
pain spreading on his chest.

(he knew that that was it.)

he tried denying her support,
but her earnest eyes refused to let him.

("Laughing with you by my side—I'll be fine with just this.")

he slowly became better,
and he planned all sorts of trips for the both of them.

they'd go have a romantic dinner by the beach in summer,
they'd spend new year's cuddled up together, hot chocolate warming them up.

after his surgery, he searched for her—his heart, filled with gratitude
he never found her again.


the scar on his chest would never fade.
and this is how their story ends.
James Rives Jun 2023
imagine reaching deep into yourself,
past any sense of doubt or regret,
and reliving what made you -you-.

saturday mornings when your dad
cut grass and expected help he didn't ask for while bacon and eggs waited
in the kitchen,

or sundays where evening cartoons robbed you, so you wished
for extra sleep before sermons
and trips to CVS.

or holidays alone because jobs
are demanding, and it won't happen
again next year, where stillness forms into repression,
fueled by discomforts, angsts,
sadness.

and it isn't until much later
that the light of your own existence
takes root, petals up toward the sun,
and chooses to flourish.
What is your greatest fear?
Do you worry about the past
The present, the future?
Do yesterdays woes play on your mind?
Or the worries of tomorrow?
How about the angsts of today?
What is your greatest fear?
Does money concern you?
Do you envision that a lack of material wealth will make you a lesser person?
Or that you won't be able to provide
For your mother, wife or children?
What is your greatest fear?
Do you fear great adventure?
From missions across treacherous terrains,
To learning something new.
Or maybe the unknown?
Does a non-existent threat debilitate and paralyse you?
What is your greatest fear?
I would say mine own is the fading of a great ability
To make words dance across a page as if they possess a life of their own
To link together phrases, to bring life to seemingly dreary monologues
To paint pictures with nouns and adjectives
Record films with verbs and adverbs
This is a gift I have been blessed with
Yet
I am scared
For I do not know when my time will come
And this pushes me
But until then?
I shall do what I know best
I shall write, query and ponder all the great questions life has for us
So I ask you
What is your greatest fear?
AJ Enemie Nov 2011
How I feel when you say
That
To me it hurts so much
Bloodsuckingly good intentions
I pull out all of the foreign angsts of past lives
You are forgiven
But not forever
Because you'll die
No greed left in your bones
Maybe some sarcasm, definitely irony
But none of that consumerist ****
Nothing you had
Not people either
Your life's worth...  nothing
My anger wasn't *******
No
It was sane
N E Waters May 2013
And here I am, the chip
on your shoulder
Now tell me what shape
can this neutral face take
you to meet
your ends
make amends, rage through
over get over?

You look at me, see
last dances, smiling kisses
young romances?

Or hands not held
misunderstood--rejected
resentment for disconnect
still festering, infected?

Or perhaps kind words
dreams under
stars and secrets
and good times--
my favorite by far?

Now here's one of those faces
with something to say

I can be so much more than
a projection of your past if you
you'd let me--at least
release me from
angsts gossip

I promise I'm not your
youth come back to haunt you I'm
just trying to live my life here I
don't exist just for you
to torment you
or adore you
let me be myself please!
The chopping block's so painful and
right beside your face was
not the seat for which I'm aiming I
feel so trapped here
please release me
just ignore me
let me be a blank slate
if nothing else-- just boring
And maybe even something new
I promise not to sic my past on
you just please--oh
please
don't make me relive your nightmares
like you do

I don't want to be stuck with you
If I could I'd unstick you
Don't be stuck on me
I'd never do that to you
cv Apr 2016
1.) i don't want another kid to feel the same way i did.

2.) some kids just really want to be hugged and told that they are loved.

3.) some kids need to know that someone cares about them.

4.) some kids are too sad that they become misunderstood—

5.)—i want to understand.

6.) i want kids to grow up not thinking that they wanted to die every time they woke up.

8.) i want kids to understand that violence will never be the answer—

9.)—nor is self-harm—

10.)—and most especially, not suicide

11.) i want kids to grow up feeling happy with themselves even though the adults around them can't.

12.) i want kids to grow up thinking that they are beautiful and worth every single breath they are given.

13.) i want kids to accept themselves for who they are, not for what their parents want them to be.

14.) i want kids to learn how to love not only others, but especially themselves.

15.) some kids struggle to trust the people around them because of adults (who are supposed to reassure them and make sure they are safe).

16.) living *****, and kids especially need all the help they need.

17.) i want kids to feel hope inside of them—

18.)—to feel like they're living instead of simply existing.

19.) i want them to know that there is and always will be hope for them—

20.)—regardless of grades, race, gender, ****** orientation, age, physical appearance, clothes, hair color, piercings, etc., etc.—

21.) —because those things don't—shouldn't—matter to others at all.

22.) i want kids to feel and know that there is someone who wants to listen to them—

23.)—someone who isn't "too busy for their whininess and angsts".

24.) i want them to feel as comfortable as they are in their own bodies—

25.)—not want them to rip their eyeballs out of their sockets or to starve themselves until their weights drop faster than a rollercoaster because they "weren't good enough".

26.) i don't want them to grow up thinking of "all adults are awful" as an amazing alliteration.

27.) i want them to know they are worth every single day they wake up.

28.) i want them to learn the meaning of "love"—

29.)—agape, most especially.

30.) i want them to believe in themselves.

31.) and i want them to keep on believing in this world.

(because we're all just people broken in many different ways trying to survive in this world, aren't we?)
i've done so many stupid things in high school that i wouldn't have if i received some kind of reassurance that whatever i was doing was right.
some of those stupid things have landed me in the principal's office, the hospital, to a shrink, etc, etc.

the worst thing that can happen to a child is when they stop believing that there is good in this world.
everything will start spiralling downwards from thereon.
MS Lim Dec 2015
Poetry is in essence
right words in the right order
but
it shouldn't  stop there

there's more
infinitely more

distillation
of the heart's deepest joys
and sorrows

constellation
of all that springs from
and happens to the self
in all its myriad manifestations
and facets--
mysterious - multifold

for life is an endless roll
of the self
in motion
and action-

self-searching
self-evaluation
self-conversation
self-evolution
self-determination
(existentiali­stic recognition
that life would inexorably end
in extinction
more despair and ennui
than hope?
that's the question
to be addressed individually--
  each life is sacred and its own
and asserts its will to be
before it sinks into oblivion)

poetry is also
the articulation
of the beyond-self
the juxtaposition
alongside others
the intricate and delicate interplay
of relationships
the joys and angsts
that follow

while time watches on
and carries a whip
'hurry, hurry--I wait for none-
presto!'

and
destiny stares one
in the face
testing one's mettle
and endurance
at any time
in any place

the poet writes:
I am saved by words
by words alone
they are my salvation
my one and only vessel
which gives my life
a ring-tone
however faint
and makes me aware
I am still living

'de nihil, nihil fit'
from nothing
comes nothing
either I am something
or nothing-
with myself I've to wrestle
to deny that
I am nothing

even if a pale shadow
I'm still something
I'd not forego
my right to being
someone in the making
for life is living
and experimenting
over time
a process of becoming

and at the end of things
I'd know with every single feeling
I've not failed myself in the task of living
through the words of my poetry
that have given me every meaning
This pain I speak of, it all comes in spasms
My walls crumble on themselves- gripping,
Tightening, constricting and then discharging

Oh how this life once filled me with pleasure,
A rush of excitement towards coming days
Touching the most sensitive parts of me
A pleasant pleasure of riding the little waves
In coupled desire and hunger, a peaceful
Ecstasy to my Divine

Now it has slowed down on itself
Accelerating on top of my angsts
For what was once the idyllic tingles in my toes;
Is now a feeling of anxiousness-
I have such cold feet

A pain of pleasuring in the company of pain
This is my self-inflicting prison
And its escape is maiden to me- a ******
In the penitentiary of this world’s *******

Why do I allow this world to leave holes in me?
wordvango Apr 2017
these words cannot ever rescue the most dour of our individual angsts
they change nothing in the end cry out cry  out
sustain nor feed another make a smile appear out of a tear
but they contain my thoughts my feelings for
all of you
these words just appear to be grateful
in the end they sing a sad song for all
those lost and tenuous those
who hurt feel alone bad
I have felt those hurts too
it makes no difference writing them
except to scourge my mind
be a little more
cleansed
myself
I float and exist in this beautiful color and space only for us. Suppose I were to be mentally stuck in a time of my love. Let it be one of these many moments of awe, thinking about how your eyes twinkle when I make you blush, even how your breathing pattern changes, letting out a soft release that mimics a floating flower dancing in the spring air. Wondrous...love, take all the space you desire. Guide me out of angsts and into an abyss that only divine healing carries onward with every squeeze from your hand. Your touch is like a soothing balm that effortlessly eases my worries, my sweet. It can calm my restless mind and bring me a sense of peace.
XO
aww, dance with me c'mon babe.
Yenson Dec 2021
they don't wish its Christmas every day
they cannot afford the liquors
that blunts their angsts and leaves them
in habitual ignorant stupor
whilst satiating their wounds and pains
and temporarily curtailing
their hysterical venting and dutiful frustrations
they sure do not wish its Christmas every day
without hate blaming and delinquencies
what else for mediocre to do
Yenson Jun 2019
Real needs no amplification
no publicity servants extolling virtues
nor a spin doctor to oil afterimages and distortion
to the elaborate codes the tales is integrity in substance

The snake oil Venetian hawkers
offer their counterfeits to sooth their angsts
dead hearts throbbing cadavers living anti-clockwise shrills
the restless confused ghosts clawing significance in lowly pits

Mangled lives selling mangled lores
desperate malignant patients adverse to curative truths
for a lifetime of illusions grew delusions in mindless caste
Blind singers becoming profligate sight healers of third eyes storm

No bother for what better to do
when ambition and progress refuses mobility for blames
and the village of haters welcomes and feed self inflicted lameness
whilst teaching self-loathers to sling mud n project owned nightmares

Truth resides in visible parades
needing no beggars to throw garlands in wake
will stride openly without twists or turns, unashamed and proud
to all n sundry it invokes, bring out yours for I am able to show you  mine
Bullies are Cowards, Liars, & Attention ******. Always putting others down, while Playing the Victim & seeking approval from the Masses
Yenson Dec 2022
In clouds mists and fog they inbreed
destined to emerge with colourless faces
in chained liberation and dumb dumbfounded voices
the vainglorious lames are pulled by the chariots of the able

And their angsts are their punishments
as in soulless essences vacuous ghosts breath
shameless in condemnation of their damning history
disquieted marauders plunderers and earth killers in attic furs

Tis the disenchanted snowflakes
Calvary of cowards hiding underground
poltroons playing serfs' Svengali of lower reaches
our renowned narcissists boils and blusters in pearly disgrace

See there the meghan of our time
in gilded acceptance but nay says the barbarians
what galls more than moors cultured capable and able
whence in clouded minds the epitome of hatred is regal moors
Yenson Jun 2021
The Karens and their eunuchs
all hail in unholy communion in shallow crypts
incanting the ethos of their graceless union
Thou shalt not live with Truth

From the Hopeless Hospice of Dumb minds
the Red ***** toss deader ideas
and escape to join the craven march
of Limeys preaching for their birth rights

The Fagin's Alchemist dost announced
that yonder Moor has taken our riches
Toy town is awakened the Reds are on keystone duties
flying monkeys everywhere hunting for alchemists' fools gold

We shall do his head in and **** him up
Karens  ****** of deceits and bitter angsts all frothing in slime
baying mudslingers with deadly aims in frenzied *******
in wanton throes they relive memories of the thrusts of Moor's sword

Tis the season of deer stalking and the Fools Ball
madness has freely poured all a heady toxic brew so drink till drunk
the pale oracle sees broken heart pain suffering and a broken Moor
and
we all wonder why the Managers of the Top three English footy Teams are all Foreigners
A satire about Covid written from a hospital bed by a dear friend. She was just recovering from  Anesthetics when she wrote this, she assures me its all about a dream she had while under.
Dr Peter Lim Sep 2019
Life---could it just be
to do with moods?
do the moments lift your spirit
or land you lost in bewildering woods?

Joys, wonders, smiles, bouquets
or doubts, angsts, unruly weeds and decayed flowers?
dreams and hopes that all else transcend
or the downhill and dereliction of moanful hours?
Yenson Jul 2023
If you're on your way
to dad's villa in Barbados Mallorca or the Maldives
If you've got your bags packed
ready for that gap year travelling to broaden your minds
If you've got the acceptance mail
and its Oxford or Cambridge in September awaiting
If you've got the straight As
and dad's promised Mercedes and City Finance beckons
If Charlotte India or Lucinda
have promised a summer of fun
in Granny's beaucoup hide-away in France Spain or Penzance
If Harrods and Asprey have delivered
all the fineries and tons of invites to Summer ***** are in hands
But oh how we know
these can never be you your lives or your world
for if it is
It will never
It simply will not be in your minds
much less your radiant positive enriching orbits
to have the time
much less the inclinations not to mention the wherewithal
to spend your time
sitting dearily composing dirge fantasies
festering toxicity from ****** polluted anodyned minds
thinking you're getting at someone
who's done nothing to you
In charmless madness all you can do
is squim in your angsts luxuriate in hate envy and jealousy
and fixate  maddeningly on those
whose lives are beyond your grubby miserable reaches
For you know painfully your inadequacies
and how you are without merits
Its really as simple as that
so you might as well continue to do as expected
Hate on, Shout, sprout bile, project, poison and write
whatever whenever however
We know you all too well......
Yenson Oct 2021
The epic surmised from narrow minds
tattles to tales reimagined in chaliced ivy
beholden in paupers angsts berating edifice
warping sinful sorrows as libation for gains

yet the might of the vapid
is but the windless thunder
roaring vacuums of malice

Carrying the wreckages of the disrepute souls
scatter thoughts from forsaken living ghosts
now birthing labour pains of arid gestations
with garrulous intent to bleed the living light

galleries of primed paltry awaits
snake charmers dance with snakes
choristers liars sing arias and jive

Plotlines in timelines in Showtime in no time
the music played but only to he not a stranger
what never got off stage has no legs to run
ask me not to the after party am not in the cast

...........................
Dennis Willis Jan 2022
Please don't be real people
with itches
and angsts

or that fucin thing
lus
ting

'*** then singing
makes
sense

and poesy-ets
should
be
Yenson Nov 2020
In the metropolis of superficialities
where text speak is now the lingua franca
and *** means surprise and emoji's tells it all
statistics says literacy level is low reading books lower
stars and celebrities pile out to admit they've never read a book

Walk with the vulnerable at lower ends
is escapism in ignorance and uninformed minds
all milling in emotional malaise and defensive angsts
where semblance rages and substance is a white powder
life becomes a drama of pretext and most are mere method actors

In vacuous air bullshitters ply their trades
each with spins on limiting realities they confront
hiding in comforting delusions or attacking with delusions
whilst in fears and confusion their inner selves quake coreless
without the gradual build of learning that shapes the minds sublime

So without informed understanding
in selves or environs or the wider global vistas
half minds gorge on fake news, misinformation and ripe lies
beastly minds in tamed puppets prey to the prevailing fashion as it
the sheepherders know the score as did Pol *** did to burn all books

This is democracy, people's power and we don't need books

He was the was a Cambodian revolutionary and politician who governed Cambodia as the Prime Minister of Democratic Kampuchea
Those that have taken the time to study and learn enough to own their own minds can tell you how Pol ***'s regime ended and the unspeakable horrors and destruction this regime occasioned. Yes, it was all done for Democracy and peoples power and it still goes on cause sometimes or most of the time we cannot learn the lessons of history because the majority have no minds.
Yenson Nov 2021
disenfranchise underclass

write disenfranchise words

with disenfranchise sensibilities

only relevant to disenfranchise angsts

and without the privilege of introspection

they march down and down in ignorance bliss

one man apart Public Enemy - Don't Believe The Hype

It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back - hahhahhah
Yenson Mar 2021
The plaintive cliché
of a Regal Soap-opera
finds frenzied homage
in barren minds lesser stooges
consumed in fevered malaise
devoid of rhyme and reasoning's
vacant incumbents trip in mirages
drunk on delusions and drugged on gainsays
gripped in angsts and cancerous in terminal malice
they squirm and twitch as they scribe their version of events
in the dramatization of only fools and horses to the Manor born
fantasies for escapisms an arm for an arm a leg for a leg are the commoners dreams and the commoners deal
save me a piece of the action, mate.....
Escapism is mental diversion from unpleasant or boring aspects of daily life, typically through activities involving imagination or entertainment. Escapism may be used to occupy one's self away from persistent feelings of depression frustrations, poverty, inadequacies, insecurities, jealousies, envy, instability, lack on fulfilment or general sadness
Yenson Aug 2023
I owned the Narcissists and Pyschos
and made them regimented
milk the poison from the saps' fangs
and ****** on it blowing a raspberry

I turned the Narcs loonies and psyschos
into dutiful unpaid labourers
put the nits on schedules at my beck and call
ridiculously combat-ready I trained them

I morphed new age demented scatterlings
into pitchforks carrying yobs
and feed them back their fantasies to brew
in a momentum of mass self flagellation

Oh how I laugh at the sicko desperados
in the land of opportunities
as they boil and recoil in hate envy and angsts
emotional turmoils as by my status and execellence

I make the Narcs loonies and psyschos
like birds on the red hot wire
they're drunks in a midnight choir singing jazz
never thus I a victim to deadbeat beasts with horns

These are miscrants on parole services
ganged casual labourers
their penance is seeing a privileged foreigner
their punishment the painful cancerous knowledge
they can never have all the qualities the Man possesses



There is a big difference between
being a Human being
and being human
only a few really understand this...
the title and indeed the content of this poem has nothing to do with the beautiful city of Manchester and its lovely peoples. its a play on words.
Yenson Apr 2022
I am Royal
you are the unwashed
you hate me and are disgruntled
but you give me money and pay my rent
keep me in the manner I am accustomed to
I have got all my creature comforts and more
you are of tiny minds and even littler means
your lives and pleasures rests on your means
which means you have mediocre lives
and dearie me, very little pleasures
explains your pathetic angsts
your immature discontents
your moaning laments
there's lots of you
curb your envy
and go play
with yourselves
and I do not mean
that cheap entertainment
you lot only seem to think about
stop making babies for Welfare money
having the highest rate of single parent family
is nothing to be proud off and bad for the children
how many teenage Indian or Chinese unmarried mums
do you see tugging kids around, they are working but in stores
or offices planning bright future and self respecting independence
you do not see us Royals putting it about recklessly
so grow up and stop blaming the Royals the rich and the Jews
Yenson May 2022
If its self-made
wear the bane of responsibility
a damning yoke
the badge of your limitations
bedeviling scars
stirring pains and dour emotions
seeping weak souls
in lessons of doubts and confusions
blazing in angsts
but but
but but but
a blameless one
assuage in the machinations of evil
where malice
wickedness and blindness are dazzled
by the darkness
of the evil of men and mice and rats
in faultless innocence
the spirit and center holds in calm vibes
the providence of fate
none is promised fair winds in trade winds
blue skies knows only summers
so in rain and storms or starless gales nights
guilt free and unbowed
we whisper vespers in the laps of the gods
Yenson Aug 2022
Self-worth undisputed
self-respect non-negotiable
refined values tested and accredited
knowledge truth and wisdom soundly enshrined
backbone solid shaped and forged by solid background

Am I thus
prone to the uncouth dribbles of contemporary barbarians
or asinine enough to pay heed to the contrived mutterings of fools
or perchance give attention to malicious afore-thoughts of knaves
or fall prey to the infantile hoodwinking of mindless thugs and dregs
or be influenced or stirred by garrulous narcissists in toxic throes
or be shaken and frightened by fetid hate of ignorant diseased racists

I pitifully see
the singeing pained malaise of the inferiors so apparently
their endemic fevers speaks out craving attention
fermenting angsts lashing out desperately
throbbing miseries seeking company
overwhelmed by my Colossus
they are
shamed and disgraced
shaded and lamed

Thus
they scream
blue ******
in vanities
of the vain
in vain
With ignorance comes fear – from fear comes bigotry.....you have to fear me, I am not your common'o garden variety and you know it.
Yenson Mar 2022
you shall cry over me
as your place in the queue is taken
you shall weep over me
as your boats start to sail without you
you shall yell about me
as the hourglasses of your essences empties
you shall delude over me
as your psychoses festers and troubles you
as my spirit overlords your minds
you shall scribble in disparage
and gnawed in bitter umbrage
and retch infectious vile bile
for as you preoccupy yourselves with heedless angsts
you are missing the banquets at the Halls of Positive Blessings
for he that seeks the downfall of another
is he that has already fallen and is bruised battered and defeated
https://i.pinimg.com/564x/1d/7e/f3/1d7ef3aa8277679adc2f821d4e13afc7.jpg
Yenson Aug 2021
You devote twenty four seven
craving my attention
you're hooked line and sinker
cause I'm worth it
but you all just have to accept
you are of no benefits
I do understand insignificance
crave attention
want it so they can feel a smidgen
of some sort of power
even if its counter-productive
or just an illusion
its the nature of the vain beast
to snarl and bare teeth
its the threatened cat arching
its furry back
its the gorilla beating its chest
letting out a howl
its the bantam cockerel puffing up
coloured feathers
its average Joe clutching ballot
papers at elections
its you and you playing imaginary
chess to hide your fears
you see I do understand your plights
see your pains and angsts
but you do not engage my attention
twenty four seven
you are first world indulgent prats
spoilt vacuous nonentities  
with more idle time than good senses
full of tantrums and fury
signifying nothing but your ignorance
and feeble spines
only when I'm bored and want some
laugh and to take the ****
do I take a peep to see what kidadults
are throwing out of the bathwater
ahh..sob sob, Look its Philips, he called
us lazy lowlife thieves
he told us to go and get jobs and earn
an honest living
but look he has everything we don't have
and he's black with a silver spoon
Ahh,,,big ignorant babies do stop crying
we'll  get Red Big Brother to
smack the hell out of Philips to teach him
a lesson he'll never forget
will that make you stop crying and stamping
your poor little feet....
Yenson Aug 2021
I have the gravitas and charisma to attract your attentions
you have the ignominy and distaste to be but insignificant
I have the integrity and balance to be worthy and sublime
you have the malaise insecurities and ignorance to be unstable
I have the intelligence surety and wisdom to be assured & confident
you are merely narcissistic despoilers in pain & angsts venting
I see inadequate talentless losers crying for notice and relevance
you see the glowing wholesome distinguished man you can never be
and that shames and disturb every fibre in your bodies invoking hate
hate hate hate hate plaguing and stirring you and your poor minds
Yenson Aug 2022
I empathise
going into their heads
and imagining how it feels
waking up to  half-baked chipolatas
every morning and knowing its there forever
Heck, man that's a big deal about such a small thing

Ya, were it me I would forever feel disadvantage too
as it is, any trace of sadness disappear swiftly
no self-pity for I wake to a banger
hot sizzling fulsome ready to go
so I understand their angsts
always a letdown
Yenson Aug 2021
Did I not win it good
is that not why you're *******
green with envy
as rubber plant rooted in cheap compost
looking at the refined radiance
of a bluest Sapphire Orchid in sublime bloom

I plucked a royal flush
a five star winning hand
while in the down low
your jealousy marries your hate and angsts
and you burn red in the face
like the garish red neon bulbs on a Dutch brothel door

only the broken knows
the different notes of broken
as the abused by providence find solace
in the self loathing they mask by pointing fingers
you can hide but what you are cannot
it was with you as the water broke for your birth
Yenson Oct 2021
The epic surmised from narrow minds
tattles to tales reimagined in chaliced ivy
beholden in paupers angsts berating edifice
warping sinful sorrows as libation for gains
yet the might of the vapid
is but the windless thunder
roaring vacuums of malice
carrying the wreckages of the disrepute souls
scatter thoughts from forsaken living ghosts
now birthing labour pains of arid gestations
with garrulous intent to bleed the living light
galleries of primed paltry awaits
snake charmers dance with snakes
choristers liars sing arias and jive
plotlines in timelines in Showtime in no time
the music played but only to he not a stranger
what never got off stage has no legs to run
ask me not to the after party am not in the cast
...........................
Yenson Dec 2021
From your ropes on the ropes
watch
how defeating yourselves defeats you
resplendent fears
brazen in pale bankrupted convicts united
unhidden in plain sight
the dregs of dreads
crawl in unison in the gutters of the unhinged
in targeted woes
and puerile franchise they consume their sorrows
in the craven
of the Ichabods' frothing a vendetta of selves loathing
in legacy pains acerbic angsts
they are the base ranting and raging and twisting and twirling
victims of their fears
shackled in the momentum of the embittered prodigal miniate finks
as they stew in rancour and hard labouring
the illuminating light they seek to douse still shines in blessed Grace
Yenson Jan 2022
The anxiety that wears the Emperor's coat
for the Emperor's serfs with twenty-twenty visions
the Depression that takes the teasing micky
out of the blanched Tonton Macoute leaving eggs
on semi-illiterates fish and chips opposers' faces
the mama-I-am-crying simpletons because a blackman
has done better than us flakes in ***** Levi's
the angsts of the minute-men with their stub guns
venting frustrations on *** Magnum
the joke of ex-Slave Traders demanding reparations
from the sweat of ex-colonial immigrant
the absurdity of greedy pillagers and looters pointing
fingers yelling parasites and germ man
the unreal masking theft and extortion as revolution
hiding designer white robes and pointed hats
the psychology of clowns where right is wrong and wrong
is right if you're pale & steal your neighbour's goods
welcome to Vaudeville and tickets are free at the Red door
on the left near the left underground sign
your hard labour is appreciated and scums are most welcomed
Yenson Apr 2021
And his mind has no trough in shades and ruin
neither to condone or share in **** fallacies unjust
from a youthful leader to acclaimed Renaissance grace
devoid of pettiness and foibles of cosmopolitan heathens
and he said
“If you think the expanse of the brain is about the same size
as the universe we live in, you’ve got infinite places to go to within your own self.
What is loneliness  in the gratuitous expanse of the beautiful mind
where is the absence of love in a million real and truthful unforgotten kisses
where is pain in the dazzling achievements crowning works well done
where is sorrow in the travels of he who share laughter and joy in
refreshing light-heartedness and brotherhood
and where are disappointments when highs and lows are mere imposters in ebbing tides
and the know that providence stands at the gates for each and all
so in the blessings of a mind allowed freedom to seek and find
unfettered by inherent cages filled with the avarice of naysayers
tainted by heresy of dullards and the infirmed with stunted lives
polluted by ignominy hate jealousy envy and personal demons
in shadows living with shadow fears and living in the recesses of their minds
how can thus
catch a cloud and pin it down
when by the omnipotent Grace of the Creator
I enter thousands of minds and blaze a trail that splinters them
and they have no expanse for refuge but to foam with bile and angsts
trapped in the rigours of de rigueur finite fearful senselessness
Yenson Apr 2021
when the pained hidden cowards
can stand face to face
and croak their dirges
then perhaps I'll know
what pain and sorrow I carry
and what tears I should be shedding
but belly crawling in mud and dirt
and squeaking in dank caves and under stones
all I hear is their sorrows pains and anguish
coated in the frustrations of born cowards
neither adequate nor capable of owning their convictions
or courageous to be who or what they are in the light of show
shame owns them and confidence and self-assurance never present
I am what I am and do what I do in full glare of the brightest sky sun
the fearful cowards recoil in smelting shadows wishing they are like me
and knowing they could never be
they have always belonged in the background
the weak and wounded are never going to lead the parade
in their faceless grumbles and aspersions you pick the degrees
of their worthlessness and the angsts that condemns them to hide
and hide and hide and hide
Yenson Sep 2020
see them
Pity them so
the aggrieved cult mice
made poor from born poor
harken in the shrine of the talentless
in hate, jealousy and resentment they praise
moribund in ignorance irrelevant to copious insignificance
singing the hymns of the guilty nonentities with nothing to lose
but the chains round their empty heads and minds now displaced
as backwards as backward does our modern day bolsheviks squirm
in the mirages of classless conscientious objectors fighting smoke
fashion them a lost war fitting to their common incompetence
build houses of blames and dens to hide their self loathing
barracks to drill angsts and harness their blindness
no kitchen for brains has long been cooked
instruct that freedom is hate
and senseless anarchy
self destruction
is 'power'

— The End —