Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
JK Cabresos Dec 2018
Distance
is the antagonist
of our story,
but it makes me
miss you even more
than usual,
it hurts so bad
that I would
travel the universe
just to see you.
Copyright © 2018
Fayre Jun 2018
Her mind became
the antagonist
of her own being,
pursuing the sadness
that followed her treachery.
My mind empowers the person I am.
Larry Potter Aug 2016
So much for superheroes saving the day;
Every good guy's epilogue is a cliche.
Tedious compulsory celebrations
For all their mundane actions.

A villain's portrayal is what excites me.
Ever since a kid I could already see;
Creativity in all those gimmicks,
Geniuses of ***** tactics.

It is never easy to become the antagonist.
The object of all hate and blacklist;
The one that is destined to fail,
To fulfill a comic's holy grail.

Yet the bad guys do most of the heavy work,
Perfecting their schemes with an evil smirk;
But every time they're about to win,
The plot will smash their plan to ruins.

They say some people are destined to be heroes;
It's a fate preordained a long time ago.
But the truth is that everyone needs a villain,
To finally uncover their life's meaning.

What the world generally calls as criminals,
In reality are just misunderstood equals.
They taught me more about the cruel life,
Better than any superhero's strife.
The hanky he was sobbing into was crusty,
*****, unwashed, unclean; yet strangely comforting to a little boy,
as he cried he made his way to a culvert behind the school,
some place the other kids couldn’t see him crying,
it was more comfortable being near rocks
-next to that watershed for some reason?

He looked down at his antagonist,
the scaly-green feet,
they made him cry harder,
he lamented…

“Why have I been tormented so?”

“Who gave me these feet? Who made me this way, lizardly, scaly, an animal no?”

“What class am I, what species? Are those toenails, claws or a disease?”

“The way I’m treated makes me sad. Where is my mommy, where is my dad?

“Did I come from an egg? Didn’t we all? Why do they pick on me, make me feel so small?”

“My feet are reptilian even I can see that!”

“Am I part lizard? Are there horns on my back?”

“I can’t hide in sneakers ‘cause the claws tear them apart.”

“Not great at math, language or art.”

“They always pickin’ on me, today it’s in the schoolyard.”

“That is why I sit here on the rocks crying with my **** feet and sullen heart,”

“Cannot run fast so no baseball, basketball or soccer…”

“The other kids tried to stuff me in my own locker…”

“One mean little girl even threw a dead mouse at me!”

“But I’m only part lizard as far as I can see?”

“My English teacher says that my words are like a bird song”

“If I talk like a birdie along with monster’s feet, no wonder I don’t belong!”

“Even still, to be so mean to me, I know that it is wrong…”

“ONE DAY I WILL SHOW THEM ALL, THESE FEET THEY HAVE A PURPOSE!”

“MY WORDS OF SONG AND FEET OF MAGIC COMBINE A COSMIC CIRCUS!”

“I am no freak of nature, no forest Pan or Satyr…”

“It is not the way I look, my clothes or feet that matter…”

“It is what is in my heart and mind, the things I do that truly count…”

“For those things that make us different, for they are tantamount…”

“Seven heads, seven stages, seven fables, seven sages”

“Seven stars and seven wonders and seven heavens that we’re under…”

“And all those things they say are great and marvelous about us…”

“Will one day be written in the book by Great Old Uncle Taautus!”
Children's rhyme. Scylla represents the rocks near shores who rend ships to pieces that venture to close to them.
MarieAnna Nov 2018
In every person you meet,
They have a missing piece
Fragments of yourself you can't fathom alone
Opinions, knowledge, lessons, reasons.

All people come in different capacities, aptitudes and magnitudes.

Thus their ability to add to your story.
Really varies.
Some can add a chapter, page or line.
Antagonist or protagonist?

In this existence we share.

What impact will/can you have?
G A B R I E L A Nov 2018
I placed the hammer on my chest
and laid on the ground as the pain consumed me
I tried to lift it a couple of times
lift that endless weight between my *******
but I wasn't strong enough
I would never be strong enough

I placed a weight on top of the hammer
and felt my heart skip a beat
suddenly, I found it hard to breath
I tried to lift it a couple of times
but I wasn't strong enough
I would never be strong enough

It was all my fault
I became the antagonist in my story
and even the hero in me couldn't beat me
the cycle continued
and I fell deeper into the abyss of pain.
Abhi Beeharry Sep 2018
They said we were the best twosome together. So claim i. We were considered as the best solution providers for problems in relationships. But we couldn't figure out our own muddle. If only you could see what i saw
If only you had shown me the love i craved.
Everytime we would meet, your hand tangled up in mine and everytime you would leave, it was a glimpse of you that i yearned for.
The things we fantasize about doesn't come by itself!
we have to work for it.
For a better life
For a better relationship as well
Our future is our confidence and self esteem.
If she can't learn to love you, she can't learn to love herself.
Perhaps you've made me the antagonist. But i became the protagonist of myself.
The best chapters of my story are still to be written.
If i upset you, don't stress; never forget that god isn't finished with me yet.
To Someone I Love
Hi
Hi
I say
Like I deserve all the attention the world has to give

What'd you do today?
I reply
Like there's a grand scheme that's hidden behind locked doors

Oh nice, what for?
Oh what?
No one wants to talk to you?
******* for saying that to me
To me...
Me...

Narcissistic hero
And his friend
The antagonist
Crossed paths in the chat window today

Friends are more like enemies
Because I keep them close
It's not right, it's not right
Always making friends of my foes

It's not right, it's not right
And they're right to be upset
At the narcissistic hero
Whose story isn't over yet

And his friend the antagonist
Postured neatly, types away
All their problems and what
Does the narcissist say?

******* for friendship
And ******* for my problems
I'm sorry I snapped
Now what's YOUR problem

And it flips over
And I'm back again

Hi
I say
Camilla Peeters May 2018
Again I was in a forest and everything stood solely in black and white. Maybe I should stop watching those old films; they slow down my brain and I still haven't decided whether that is a good or bad thing. The way also I moved through that forest... I felt like a passenger, an antagonist, not nearly the central character of my dream. Someone else directed the images in a soft rhythm. Completely in harmony, a deer came forward. While he pointed his antlers at the heavens, I aimed my hunting gear at his chest. By shooting him, colour dripped into my dream for the first time. The fiery red blood ran down on black and white ferns and finally I felt the strength of my own hands.
eight nights (part 1)
HearseTraffic Apr 27
The protagonist of every romance in my dreams,
I can't even utter your name without ripping apart at the seams.
Chewed up and spit out,
I've been left so rotten.
This corpse wanders the streets desperately waiting for your touch forgotten.
I love you, but I don't like you.
I hate you, but I can't live without you.
Forcing my vocal chords to submit,
I curse your name one last time as I rearrange the fibers holding me together.
Collapsed in the depths of our collective tears,
I bottle the salt used to disturb wounds reminding me of who bore them.
Reminding me of who brought me here.
The vehicle of this descent.
The antagonist of every romance in my dreams.
as a child it took me
a while to know
I was not living
in a tale where you tend a
toothless dragon
and fly;
where you accompany
a hobbit with a ring
through a war;
you just come to that age
where your powers
are stripped
you then start your life
sometimes the weight
of the world is just gravity
you can't "Hasta La Vista" away
sometimes the antagonist is
your anxiety
the prison break
is in your room
the holy war is your
struggle to get up
from bed
and sometimes the
glimmering meadows
on the way home
from the journey
are not followed
by credits rolling
but like a stone you do
never falling into place
like a lost jigsaw
if the puzzle was planned
it would be against you
all brutal and ******
but all up to entropy
there's no boy who lived
nor a chosen one
we are stardust put together
in such a way
whether or not it means anything
is up to you because
there is not plot
but your dreams
the force may not always
be with you
you have to be the force
Look to the person on your left
And to the person on your right
And pull out your phone, and look at yourself through the reflection of your screen

Each one of you has been affected by toxic masculinity

If you looked and saw a woman,
You saw a victim, someone
Who's been tied down and told what to do
To stand in the kitchen and do the dishes
While the man stays in the other room with the TV
And has an affair with the sofa

I hear the two of them are happily married now,
In fact, the couch and the man are inseparable

The man becomes the couch, and the couch becomes the man
defiling that once holy entrance to that place you used to be able to call a home

When you were younger, you couldn't have known what the world would tell you you are
But now that you've grown up, you felt the pains and gained the scars
Now you know where the world wants you, and what role you play
On this stage, where the director's decrepit creaking hands come and defile you,
You holy sacred place.

He sits there and pays no attention to the hardwork going on adjacent to him
His thoughts are confined to whatever pretty colors and captivating sounds float across that screen
His eye lids shut only to keep from having a drought because he does not contemplate
He just sits there and waits for you to be done making his dinner for him

And what if he's working in the other room, and you can't see it, is there some sort of redemption for this man?
I cannot say, but he cannot expect to stand to the side of his life, pretending he has no emotions, teaching his sons that this is acceptable behavior,

Stop sinking into oblivion!

And when the woman speaks up and expresses these buried emotions, hurt ones, she is antagonized, like
Isn't this just another ***** with her crazy feelings?
Like shouldn't she be watching so that the chicken doesn't burn on the stove?
Like what happens if I let my guard down and let her in
And acknowledge that she is a human being?

The man says he can't do that
He can't lose his power in the situation
So he tells her those feelings she has are invalid
He makes her feel like the antagonist of the story of this man's life
And the only reason she stays with him is because she's developed Stockholm syndrome
And she doesn't want to be alone
And because if she's heterosexual, this version of a human being is the only one that's so readily available to her,
The kind that treats her like garbage, disposable, unable to have her damnable emotions redeemed

But a critique of something doesn't merit doubling down on that ideology you grew up with,
It merits its changing
So,

Men in the room, hear me now

You are victims too!

You are told to keep it in, keep the tears back
To stand up straight, to provide, to not show any weakness,
But you are most strong when you acknowledge those weaknesses openly
And possibly discover that some of them aren't even weaknesses
They're just a part of being human

And this trend is so hard to break, so hard to ***** through stone that was laid 22,000 years ago
But here we are
The buck can stop with us

We can stop antagonizing
We can start acknowledging
We can stop treating people as subhuman when they express emotion
We can start skipping in the streets and holding each other's hands

Because there's nothing masculine
About treating other humans like ****

We can eventually reclaim that word, but first it has to be exposed for all the harm it's done

Look to your right
Now look to your left
And look at your phone again

Each of one you can be a part of the solution
Not a part of the propagation of bad myths
This is the script to another talk poem that I wrote but never published.
MUNCHY Sep 2018
Before ,
His heart was weakened  
afraid he would die from the vessels of a damaged heart
that was always tainted.
Before ,
He felt uneasy and
due to the abundance of tough love
& lack of there of
that he wasn’t used to ,
There was an
expressive
explosion
of obstinate
depressive
erosion of
love within
that was
dead.

He changed
from this happy soul
to this hellish unwanted Ghoul.
Even the devil would be so shocked !
So proud that all his little work
had payed off
& has  been the start of
the next level of what he could do
to his predator that was still too
at a  mental state
of delusional manipulation
& pain .
He was about to be a ticking bomb
ready to explode!

He was a snake
The boy was Steve
The closer the snake got.
The more damage the devil could do to this boy’s feelings .
Don’t you see ?

When you’re immune to pain
The devil can work
in mysterious ways .
You can have a sense of acrimony .
Once your heart
has been betrayed
by those that still walk around acting like they
didn’t cause the pain ,
It drove him insane .  

So why do good things happen to people that make poor choices
& have filthy hearts
while bad things happen to people that make  somewhat good choices
& tries to love others
& yet at the end of the day
they
have a broken heart ?


What’s surprising is that
the boy was once wise
Like the 3 wise men .
Had a heart of purity
but was no match
to God’s son Jesus
Had the walk of a defined confident human being
but yet inside
His mental state
that was no longer the same
as the outward appearance
he very well displayed,
well he’s here to say
that looks can be deceiving !!

Jesus wept
So did Steve
Forgave those that wronged him
Cried out to God saying
“God why have you forsaken me ?”
Well Lord why have you forsaken Steve ?

Why?
Why is he still hurting ,
Emoting ,
Depressed ,
Exploding ,
going crazy ,
Eroding .
Why?

How ?
How can he pick up the pieces
Of someone else’s dark secrets
& yet they
get to walk way
free and
He still has no one to love
nor to believe in?
How?

Tell me where ?
Where are you now ?
When Steve needs some comfort
Reassurance
Away out .
Where ?

Lastly , when ?
When will Steve be able to let
Someone in
Love him unconditionally
Instead of dealing with a different person but doing same thing over & over to him .
When ?



Being broken
was not the way for him
nor was it the token
to get to a place
and state of healing.
Little chunks of his heart
was swollen from the pieces that kept falling apart
From expressing love
but not receiving it.
It was in his blood
& yet fondled & played with.
But now he has awoken
from the devil’s manipulative spiritual hellish hypocrisy .

He realized
just because he was bent
doesn’t mean he was broken.
That magnificent art
he stills creates
From his tainted - broken heart
has worked .
What a blessing how God can work in mysterious ways .

Even if the devil still lingers
Beneath or Above the Earth.
The boy has now had enough
& now knows it won’t work .
Because Jesus has him now .

He brings & leaves
his pain at the cross
Prays each day  
like his life depends on it .
& when he dies one day ,
he hopes the people
that he tried to love
knew that he was
the abundance of
it all .
When he meets God
on Judgement Day ,
he hopes he will be let in
because of the pure heart he still has buried underneath
& beneath  
the acrimony
he once had before
he
died .

He wants to lie
the acrimonious ways
of thinking to rest.
Rebirth
Reborn
Be Healed
& Transformed .

Where there’s no pain
or suffering .
No antagonist
No tricks for those that felt treated.
Nor protagonist
No place for the wicked ways
of the wicked .
No temptation
that leads to damnation .
Just a beautiful place
where he can awake
& be free
from what the world
& society once was
when he
was living.
To him
living eternally
in God’s Kingdom ,
will probably
be more welcoming
than he tried to do for others that treated him
like he
was nothing.

He put up all those walls
that were bound to fall
in time .
Little did he know
Jesus was with him
with those walls he created
& now he’s a free man and
Satan has been rebuked
No longer comes to weakened  
Nor to steal
****
Nor destroy
the boy .
No longer his puppet
Nor toy .
Because now the boy
is a man in the making
now enjoys
the glory
the company
the abundance of
God’s love indeed
& is now in the hands
[No longer in rainy mental states ]
& is now in the hands
[ Because he found God
in his darkest days]
& is now in the hands of God.

Steve wanted a
personal king to love
But the irony of it all
Is that the king he wanted was far from the almighty king
that was with him all long
throughout his acrimony
Standing by his side
Being the conscience
for him as a guide
While watching from above .
He realized that Steve isn’t so supposed to like Adam
He was taught Adam & Eve
Not Adam & Steve
And that Steve ,
that went through all that acrimony
That’s now out of his system
& in the hands of God
was me .





~ Jordan Munchenburg ~
Jennifer R Fay Aug 2018
That’s where I like to escape, often.
Pick up a real book-this thing with paper and a cover and bindings and a frontispiece and I just dive right in.
Turn off all the background noise and I just waltz right into that exposition and sit myself down and watch. Listen.
Become a part of the narrator’s carefully crafted tale.
Cheer for my protagonist and wish the worst for my antagonist.
I hear it all, and feel it all,
eat and breathe those words, those scenes, that rising action.
I’m right there for the ******
and falling action and the eventual denouement.
And then I let go.
I set that book gently down on my bedside table and I let myself come back here. Regretfully, always, but at least I know that another world
is just a page or two away.
I’ve always been a bookworm. My books have been my education and my salvation often. Just read my first Louis L’amour novel and I’m awestruck. What a wonderful escape.
Ingested a quarter-milligram of 5C-AB-PINICA,
A synthetic cannabinoid. Did not go higher due to
speculated carcinogenic properties.
****** component of the high seemed pronounced
even at this threshold, but otherwise typical enough
cannabinoid sensation.
Definitely active at the microgram level, like many of its
ilk; no redeeming qualities.

Ingested twenty-five milligrams of quetiapine,
An atypical anti-psychotic, brand name Seroquel.
Powerful dopaminergic, serotonergic and adrenergic antagonist; very sedating, causing sleepiness which borders on catatonia.
While the lethargy could be considered somewhat calming
the smallest effort to resist and stay active is exhausting.
This exhaustion is so thoroughly disabling it can become quite distressing. Thought was sluggish, intention seemed undistorted.
Not an entirely unpleasant lethargy if consented to. Thus, contra to what any sane person would believe it probably does have
mild 'addictive potential' (whatever that means).
Heavyweight trip-killer.
Synth-noids (also known as
spice or c-liquid) and quetiapine
have been found to be drugs of abuse
in prison.
taylor holmes Feb 21
her face growing more red with the fever of fear and the after thoughts
of a motivational heart.
for the crickets are venturing to sing
only a solemn view.
in a liquid splendor, you dunk your head with a
farewell goodbye as your mind regresses.
in a house of reason, he will choose to neglect me. as for his thoughts they remain, his feelings will not be felt.
a new found solace in this empty place, as my mind becomes my own antagonist.
to yield a timid longing while time does keep whispering, we gently stole from curious eyes
to escape our own.
a stain where she use to lay, a bruised patch of her panicked eyes. where white chalk was put around just measures the
distance between us now. as you stare in seduction and endure her carved words, mindfulness moves to fast at this world.
with elusive hands i embrace in an empty room with a plastic pin point.
now with your hollowed touch, you turn everything to white noise with a static urge.
yet the buildings became a blur as i stared through your moms car door window, with a flashback of music and watery thoughts.
(11:28 pm)
Amanda May 5
For us I will do anything I am able
To get to a place where our relationship is stable
Back to chapter two
Three
Or maybe onto the next
Should write new stories but I'm rereading past text
To me seems like our happiest days are gone
I love you so much I keep holding on
Because I cannot comprehend a book without your name
No matter which way it's written the antagonist is the same
I can change the storyline a bit
But not the plot because you're always it
Goal after goal I never quite achieve
Surely it would be better for you if I'd leave
We are aware we must work tirelessly to improve
Where do I put the bad habits and flaws once removed?
Maybe we are a vast distance from where
We were then
At least we're together somewhere
Have eachother at least
Not alone in the struggle
Life can be awful but much less when we snuggle
In your arms find strength replenished when weak
Supplying hope and comfort
With soothing words you speak
Hopeful dreams disappear when despair does not depart
Try to repair damage
You continue destroying my heart
I had a really bad week guys
The darkness gathers patiently  

I am ready to embrace the fading beauty
Of that expected dream without a name
So that my longing may have its temporary end

Meeting her here is almost antagonist
As I am able to watch her greatness perish
But only from a distance
That is the most potent logic of love

— The End —