"appeased" poems
Strange malaise,
One I can't place.
Struggling of late.
Discomforting state.
Persistent lethargy.
Sloth-like and heavy.
Burning internals.
Frequent intervals.
No temperature.
No warning lever.
Don't know what's wrong.
Been rather long.
Medicine trough
Can't rid me this cough.
Expulsion so violent,
Incessantly recurrent.
Over a fortnight
This ailment I fight.
Still hasn't eased.
Can't be appeased.
Development is seen.
Now spitting green.
Not just all
That joined this brawl.
It's just the coughing.
No injury I'm suffering,
I haven't bled...
But I see red...
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 12:46 PM UTC
I wish I could have kissed you
the moment I saw you
in real life for the first time;
something like
running into your arms
and letting the world
turn into static,
only focusing on you.
Only you.
But that would have been
too dramatic. Maybe
you'd get shy all of a sudden
or think I am too forward.
So I just held your hand—
warm like a heavy blanket
and evidently bigger
than mine. Enveloping my hand
in the most comfortable of ways,
like some missing puzzle piece
that was bound to be together
no matter what.
That would have appeased me
don't you think?
No. Not really.
I have nothing to say.
I still want to kiss you.
Dec 16, 2021
Dec 16, 2021 at 9:33 AM UTC
Loneliness is trapped between two worlds,
Loneliness becomes bitter,
When left alone too long,
Loneliness hangs around, even when thought to be gone,
Loneliness is still there in a crowded room,
Loneliness never sleeps,
Loneliness has no boundaries,
Loneliness can never be appeased,
Loneliness wants to feel alive again,
Loneliness can wear many faces,
However,
An exorcism will not get rid of loneliness,
A psychic cannot tell what loneliness wants,
Loneliness cannot be seen through,
And Loneliness does not last forever.
Oct 25, 2018
Oct 25, 2018 at 3:55 PM UTC
Darkness, it falls like a massive leaden shroud
Over this quiet valley as the dusk infects the sky
Pleasant faces fade into the shadows of the night
As the demons of the dead and dreaming come on out to play
Howling at the moon
Swarming through the streets
Lurking in the shadows
On this night of Halloween
Carve the faces, light the candles
Offerings must be made
In the cold October moonlight
To the Phantoms of Samhain
If you fail
If these ghouls are not appeased
You will be...
Taken
by the spirits of the dead!!!
The Tempter's Chosen
And kin to the Grim Reaper
Children of the Darkest Night
Steal mortal souls to feast on
Ghastly transformations
Amidst accursed corpses
We are possessed by the evil of tonight's demonic forces!
Carve the faces, light the candles
Offerings must be made
In the cold October moonlight
To the Phantoms of Samhain
If you fail
If these ghouls are not appeased
You will be...
Taken by the spirits of the dead!!!
By the light of the orange moon
In the dark of the purple night
We linger in these shadows
And wait there, until the time is right...
On this night of Halloween
We roam your city streets
And among the masks of plastic
We can finally be free
So carve those faces, light your candles
Offerings still must be made
In the cold October moonlight
To us Phantoms of Samhain
And if you do not heed these words
And refuse these simple deeds
Well then, my friend
You will be,
Taken by the spirits of the dead!
And if you do not heed these words
And refuse these simple deeds
Well then,
My friend,
you will be
Taken ...
Taken to the grave!
Taken...
Taken far away!
Taken...
Taken by we, the Phantoms of Samhain!!!
Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 1:33 PM UTC
Don't mistake survival for happiness,
Read behind the eyes,
Read between the lines,
Don't ask for an open mind,
What's inside isn't all it seems,
Take the smile as a gospel truth,
Accept normality as a guide of peace
Be appeased the simple things are easy,
The daily routine is routinely pacifying.
All I ask as I carry on keeping on,
Remember the fight I engaged to be here,
To remain here, to stand not flee,
I will not ask for concern, just remember.
Please just remember I am still fighting.
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 11:24 AM UTC
Alluring courage is complicated
The voices not wanting to circumvent,
And the people who aren't appeased
Makes the pressure even bigger and stronger
I need to burnish my confidence,
But the arboreal confidence is stuck on a vine
The affronts given to me, their expression is what's frightening
The archaic words I receive everytime when I go up, I don't wish for it to repeat
I just wish I was able to avert when I really needed to
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 1:29 AM UTC
Year after year
purity of fire
is challenged by evil,
appeased with offerings
A full moon looks on
as winds stoke embers,
flare flames
to a flickering dance
Right in the center
of crimson blaze
sits Holika,
Prahlad in her lap -
her arms a circle of heat
White sparks fly from her hair,
eyes smolder in fury;
her mouth ***** in air,
engulfs rice and wheat
Wood chars,
coconuts splinter,
flowers singe
smearing earth with ash.
Year after year
faith survives.
Holika burns to death.
By Unknown
Mar 22, 2016
Mar 22, 2016 at 7:47 PM UTC
Vermillion lips smile knowingly
across the room, so at ease it's
almost angelic to see.
He grips his wine glass to almost breaking point,
what the **** is she doing here?
More to the point ,How is she here?
Relationships are like cats, let them out,
and well they'd better be neutered.
That's what gramma said!
Slowly, sensually almost, she sashayed
over to him, she could see his tension,
but not his fear.........yet.
Face to face they smile, but her smile never
reaches her eyes, he stammers, drops his glass,
'Here, she says you need air'
Outside, he's composed
'No one knows, no one knows' he keeps repeating
Who are you talking to darling? She whispers
Not me,I'm dead, you shot me,
I was there, then kicks him hard
Vulnerable alone with his red mouthed wife he screams.
Guests rush out, to their host babbling,
Incoherent, confessing to ******
screaming over and over, blue lights in the distance
Closer and closer, guests now witnesses.
Host now completely within the pain of a mental
Eternal mind slip.
She, moves closer to him, soothes him, sirens closer,
reassures him as he screams,that yes his wife is dead
appeased he looks up in bewilderment.
Oh, me, oh darling brother in law did you forget?
Jo's twin, the one au-pairing abroad when you married
Pleased to meet you
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 6:32 PM UTC
Basking in postcoital bliss, talking between the sheets
catching our breath, giggling with laughter treats
Laying in the afterglow, tangled in the sheets
sweating cooling skin, and completing greater feats
Blissful in post euphoria, feeling quite appeased
finding comfort in warm arms, putting me at ease
Still sighing, touching, tasting, nuzzled in content
reveling in the splendor, our minds and bodies, spent
Let me drink, this moment in, before we turn to clocks,
wishing only to start again, as seconds ticking mocks.
Snuggling together, eyes and hands so locked
wishing for ourselves, more hours, on the clock
Mar 9, 2017
Mar 9, 2017 at 2:21 PM UTC
(Pompeii/Florence, 1997)
Vulcan was real, alive as you were,
you and your language, long dead now.
Your town was prosperous, with its paved streets,
bars, bath-houses, brothels,
mosaics, painted walls, graffiti.
Your domestic gods too were real to you;
they had saved you before,
and when the superhuman hammer blows shook
your houses, you repaired them,
decorated in greater splendour,
erected a temple to your protectors.
But Vulcan was not appeased - years are not long
to the lord of earth and fire.
This time he struck swiftly, sending you death
from his mountain, overwhelming you
as you ran. Your garden
gave you no protection,
hot fumes choked you,
hot ash surrounded you,
sealed in your tomb as you died.
The ones who excavated your town
marvelled at its completeness,
and in the ash that filled your garden
they found hollows.
Filling the hollows with plaster,
they found . . . not you,
but echoes of yourselves,
like statues in a museum.
We came to see you, and after that
to the Academy, standing in awe
at David's perfect marble humanity.
But we were troubled by the others,
the uncompleted ones, the Prisoners,
their twisted limbs, hidden faces,
frozen in the act of emerging
from the stone, recalling too painfully
in their unfinished creation
your own agonised poses
as you died.
*"I had seen birth and death,
but had thought they were different."*
.
Aug 26, 2016
Aug 26, 2016 at 3:02 PM UTC
Dear Sanity,
In the night, I wake to find myself without your company, but the warmth of the chain about my neck keeps you at the forefront of my mind. The heavy links rake across my flesh searing your disapproval; pulling me to your ankles so that I might kiss them for mercy. Branded at the chest by this heart of yours, though, I am the very antithesis of your will. I was seduced by the comfort of your homogeneous masses and tempted by the fruits of my curiosity. Yet, it is through fire—the deep passions of my essence—that I will be reborn. And you, who I loved through the eyes of others, will HOWL at my betrayal! Then stand upon your mountain peak and bludgeon me with reason so that I might know what your light looks like.
To what end? So that I might cling to this chain, this keepsake, which I did not need until you bestowed your judgment. Yes, judgment, though you would have me believe it is your friendship, your safety, your sympathy. Like the swelter of a thousand suns you oppress me saying, “Keep quiet your ***** yearning!” So who would know better, the hour of my discontent, than you who watches me, unblinking, during the day? It is here, at the tween of night, that I shed the scales from my eyes and throw off your burden of want—the goals for which you leave me always pining, but never appeased. Is this shirking to seek the dark? So be it. I will cloak myself in blood—for all that I am wrong—and dance in the pale light of the unassuming.
—Pandora
--------------------
And the faces of the homogeneous masses drew forthwith to witness dawn.
In a drawer,
There was found,
A locket with
A minor crown—
Of leaf: laurel,
And shaded night.
When opened up
All succumbed to fright.
For found inside
Was a broken light;
Pandora’s hope
Had lost the fight
Dec 14, 2015
Dec 14, 2015 at 2:00 PM UTC
i'll admit it
i'm just trying to score some prozac;
something to supplement the steroids
that never seemed to ease the pain.
my body never
tolerated
anything they gave me:
all their alcohol distraction,
all their **** carelessness,
all their acid lifestyle,
none of it.
as for ecstasy,
i never got the dosage right:
i've been offered ersatz masterpieces
and turned them all down,
so they sacrificed their snatches to other gods,
who happily and hungrily partook in the
appetizing, dangerous bounty for which there is no cure.
i was once appeased for my lust
and committed love crimes,
so i learned not take ecstasy
until i tried the steroids.
i'll admit it
i'm just a pair of eyes
in a white ocean
May 3, 2011
May 3, 2011 at 1:46 PM UTC
Dear Mister Splee, I have a story for thee.
A man of humble attire, went fo’ a walk on a dull wire.
Skilled he kept balance, with nothing but a lance.
With a great long stride, he made it to the other side.
Back he went from one side to the other,
he grabbed nineteen polar bears and a ladder.
He carried them across just for fun.
Amazingly it was all at once not one by one.
The whole audience,awed with just a glance,
While monkeys surrounded and began to dance.
He dropped the ladder down, until it reached ground.
And the monkeys climbed up, pouring tea in a cup.
The polar bears climbed down with elegant ease.
I swear one of them sneezed.
But skilled he kept them balance, with nothing but a lance.
The acrobats were on the trapeze, they looked humbly appeased.
Thirty elephants all whiny and giddy.
Climbed the ladder all silly nilly.
Rhinos and Tigers performed ballet.
I hope you might get to see their performance someday.
The monkeys now on tightrope now hung,
By their tails they now flung.
The humble man on tightrope did sat,
collecting the teacups into his hat.
The elephants dove from the top,
into a pool, splish, splish, splop! splop!
O how I wish fo’ you to see the Tigers dancing.
O how I wish fo’ you to see the Rhinos prancing.
A lion or two just fo’ show,
Jump through hoops caught on fire
And a smile caught my eye from the man on the wire
He jump off, down the ladder.
He walked up to me, with glee
and told me to “tell this to Mister Splee:
Come visit me O’ Mister Splee
This circus was designed just for ye”
I told Mister Splee
And a tear rolled down his cheek
Sadder than he could be
He said: “That circus has long since been dead.”
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 10:44 AM UTC
Twilight washes the bedlinens blue
And striped with flickering light they seem to move
And beckon us to lie in their folds,
Drawing away our clothes,
Pushing some to the floor.
Who are we to resist,
As the pretty song of strings off-key,
Winding through the forest rain
Like a goddess shedding robes,
Manipulates our minds and skins,
Only appeased by the union of
Heaven and Earth, of you and I?
Let us oblige them with our bodies,
You descending like the rain upon me
And I rising to you as the urgent river in waves
Beneath you until we are One?
If only for a night, in the Indonesian dark,
The tinkling droplets on the roof,
The flickering fires, the clouded desires.
We will send our lust into the mist and air,
So that it knows us when we are done at last,
And in every night until the world ends.
Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 11:24 AM UTC
interesting
i thought it was
interesting
or?
it's interesting.
it's thought provoking?
it's interesting.
it's weird?
it's interesting.
it's important to someone but you don't care?
it's still interesting.
So,
when you said
you're interesting
am i thought provoking?
weird?
comical?
appeased?
puzzling?
I'm entirely unsure, so
calling me interesting
well,
it didn't mean much
Apr 16, 2013
Apr 16, 2013 at 1:07 AM UTC
Mechanical reactions
slither through the cortex,
Binding our beliefs into
a solid jellied mass.
The peons go without a care,
wisdom is not their share,
only to be appeased
in the short term
is their game.
Yet the one who dances freely,
Gracefully fluttering down the walk,
gets stared at and gawked at,
Ridiculed and mocked.
The program
does not recognize the patterns
that are involved,
and the programmers are just too vain
to change the program's
stiff and rigid brain.
So while the programs interact,
the dancer keeps on dancing,
sensibilities in tact.
She notices the patterns,
the snide remarks behind her back,
the stares, the whispers, wonders,
of the program's capacity cap.
How she wishes just one
free person could truly understand
what it's like not to be a robot,
but a compassionate human.
Seas of judgement, seas of motion,
Seas of jealously and hate,
motivated by confusion,
in this altered AI state.
One day there is a person
walking out of sync,
the rest of the people shrink away
from the lone independent freak.
Free thought and new ideas
Are poison to their wires,
new data it can handle,
but independence acts like fire:
Burning through the program
like an arrow with a purpose,
piercing through its hardened heart
rendering the program worthless.
The boy who parted the sea of monotony
found this dancing girl,
and together created a barrier
shattering programs with a twirl.
By the power vested in me,
I command you to think,
Think twice about your actions
or you will find that you will sink
Into a sticky, jellied mass
where your thoughts will cease to think.
Oct 19, 2011
Oct 19, 2011 at 12:18 PM UTC
I'm a captured tooth nerve
amalgam appeased
restrained in containment
by my keeper
then I can be a prisoner
escaping the jail
my warder has lost
the keys of control
on dark days
my fathoms swirl
in murky mass
infused with blinding kelp
on good days
my porthole shows
clearness of eye
the glass reflects well
just to confuse
my ores composition
is misunderstood
the translation
metamorphic
changing
minute by minute
hour by hour
these ones are buggers
my microscope
isn't good with definition
will I or wont I
who knows
my borders are contested
being diplomatic
I make pacts and treaties
no monicker is required
the tried and tested
gentleman's agreement
that will do
my margins
can be thick or thin
comments fit in
usually they range
between
insult and praise
depending on the mood
I oft go to open cut mines
to find common minerals
which are useful on a daily basis
real effort is called for
when I delve into deep shafts
sometimes gems are quarried
precious ones to behold
well enough said
a letter is to be written
dear meditative home
we're returning soon
if we're delayed
after hours
p.s. leave the porch light on
Oct 16, 2013
Oct 16, 2013 at 5:52 AM UTC
It had rained all night
And drenched the land outright
Leaving puddles and pools,
Here, there and everywhere.
But the morning saw
The sun blazing ever more bright
I watched the water
Flowing silently away
With no ostentation
Along channels, furrows and waterways
Cavities, crevices and culverts
And through ditches and drains
What little remained,
Seeped down unnoticed
Through innumerable pores unseen.
As prisoners from narrow cells
Suddenly released into boundless space
Or troops from a garrison
On a spurt of fresh attack
The children shut indoors
Came out in gangs
To romp, jump and play.
Unmindful of anything,
They soon lost in a wave of giggles.
But how sudden was the change!
The sky over cast with dark clouds
Fired out like a water cannon.
Once more the rain,
Cascaded down with greater vengeance
Each drop weighing gallons
And the silver needles pricking deep
Making the children flee
In directions all round
Like autumn leaves
Scattered by the wind!
The rain continued to pour
Inundating the low lying lands
Oh! Mother Nature
How erratic are your moods
How unpredictable
How like a child throwing tantrums
And how quickly appeased!
Jul 18, 2016
Jul 18, 2016 at 5:36 AM UTC
**** the clock, leave me be
I have an itch that can not be fully scratched
a hunger never sated
a Jones that never peaks
I am a slave, a concubine,
a conscript to words
they shiver up my spine
and are as a Dragon's flame
I need more to live
like air, and water and love
or the wind's subtle touch
and my muse's flesh against mine
For she has shown them to me
Her rings of passion
that shimmer in the sun
and I swell, hypnotized
**** the clock
rest your hands
I am bewitched
and must needs be met
Leave me be
to our fantasy
She waits for me still
true and wanting
My drug calls
my veins throb
the words, the words
they tell her where I am
Here
I am still here
and the Dragon
must be appeased
Oh tenderness
the sweetness left in my memory
for my wild imagination
to ferment like wine
Drunk now on these visions
impaired with temptation
I taste their milk of love
and suckle to sleep.
**** the clock
though I can not stay here
nestled within her *****
safe from the Dragon's flame
Aye, I must leave
but a spark of permanence remains
a tattoo on my brain
of flesh and sun and rings
Aug 16, 2022
Aug 16, 2022 at 7:18 AM UTC
Nursing my secret longings
I lie awake in the wee hours of the night
Mind restless, like a caged bird, craving redemption
My thoughts journeying through time and space
I recognize a thousand appetites
Still waiting to be appeased!
Sadly there isn’t time enough
To realize what I really crave.
It is in the stillness of the night
When sleep deserts the eyes
That mind derails its track
And wanders like an aimless vagabond
Though rooted firmly on the ground
At times, I feel, I lose my bearings
How I longed to paint my sky
In garish colors and shades!
I wonder if the scales of my life’s balance
Lean more to gains or losses now!
There was a time when hope ruled the roost
And I heard love’s soft whispers all around!
Now I am unable to precisely tell
What my mind craves and pines
But this much I know for certain
I am becoming worn and old
Years have so quickly skipped past me
With youth and beauty sapped away
Leaving life an exhausted well
With the dregs remaining at the bottom
My eyesight has waned, the earlier lustre gone
My once supple knees have started to creak
And the muscles, begun to sag
I feel as vulnerable as a foetus in the womb
Pain grows with years
As a smudge deepens into an erasable stain
I am no wizard to call back all that have left
But listen to their ‘long, melancholy, withdrawing roar’
No more springing steps
And a fast fading cortex
Still I stretch myself
To catch at Hope, winging away!
Dec 19, 2016
Dec 19, 2016 at 6:07 AM UTC
As the hail makes love to the streets
I query its vendetta with I
What had I done to be defamed
By such unforeseen chagrin
The sound ‘tis the ****** of the horizon
Echoes that of a violinist scarred by ****** mortification
The harmony plays in quite a lovely manner
Could hook one quickly if not careful
Appeased I sit in a wooden, black chair
And saturate in fine rock refrains
A pacifying compensation if I may say
A scripted version of hell
Oct 4, 2012
Oct 4, 2012 at 8:48 PM UTC
It rained on and on.
The fire in the hearth
Had long died out.
Hunger grew,
Frustration raged.
Vultures swooped down
to feed on flesh.
Half willing, half resenting,
Surrendered, rather subdued,
Desires spilled over,
Bristles pricking
From ***** to *****
Thrusting and tearing
Devouring in greedy gulp
Waves surging past the log
Passion spent,
Hunger appeased,
Purse strings loosened,
Silver coins tinkled.
Amply paid,
Her wages of shame……
The toil not wasted!
The reel of Time unwound itself,
And the scenes, constantly replayed.
‘Exploring hands encounter(ed) no defense’.
Each day closed in ****** h(r) ut,
When the h(r) ut turned a ****
She started to rot.
Feeble she grew,
Languid she became,
Body thinned,
Energy waned,
Ailments plagued,
And
Immunity lost!
Now,
She lives an outcast.
A wild flower
wilted by the wind!
A luscious fruit
blighted by the worms!
Oct 20, 2017
Oct 20, 2017 at 12:28 PM UTC
I can fare any roads, any paths
Often traveled or never seen
Because, on my paths,
I will always follow what I have grasped.
From failure recover and feel appeased
This is the only way to learn and succeed.
Failure, pain, and loss will strengthen me.
And all my paths will be blest
Because
I know what I Love
EverLasting,
And who I Love
Forever Lush.
Because
My love for family is pristine,
Mother Father
Brothers
Foremothers Forefathers.
Because
Fate will only guide me,
Never mislead me
Nor define me.
Because
I keep my beliefs in my heart,
But out of my mind
Where they would cloud my judgment.
And all my roads will hold no contest.
Because
I will not simply awaken each day,
But awaken each day with passion abreast.
Mar 11, 2012
Mar 11, 2012 at 4:08 AM UTC
Who are you, a Man?
A God fearing creature made in the image of God,
And like Our Lord, you are surrounding
Even when I hide from you.
For whom his own Ego are the gates of Heaven-
God, why are you afraid?
That I may not love you how Eve loved the apple.
What is my pleasure if it cannot please you,
But you shall be appeased in knowing that my love is fruitless
By design.
As though I'm the ****** herself, crack my rib
And tell me that no woman deserves your Son
Who cannot sacrifice her heart
to a Man of God
Jul 12, 2017
Jul 12, 2017 at 8:01 PM UTC
727
Precious to Me—She still shall be—
Though She forget the name I bear—
The fashion of the Gown I wear—
The very Color of My Hair—
So like the Meadows—now—
I dared to show a Tress of Theirs
If haply—She might not despise
A Buttercup’s Array—
I know the Whole—obscures the Part—
The fraction—that appeased the Heart
Till Number’s Empery—
Remembered—as the Millner’s flower
When Summer’s Everlasting Dower—
Confronts the dazzled Bee.
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