"armour" poems
Material things don’t entice me
Empty promises don’t count as a remedy
Flowery words are pleasing to the ear
With apparent intentions clear
Is this just an infatuation?
An effect of my subtle imagination
This relentles game of tug of war
How I wish it wouldn’t end up in a scar
All I know is that I’m tired of this dance
Might as well give us a chance?
You have gone way past this armour
Consistency, that is all I am asking for
Nov 14, 2018
Nov 14, 2018 at 11:35 PM UTC
I climbed slowly,
slowly on the mount of aspirations,
On succint savoury dreams,
As i see the success peaking from thousand miles above.
I grip the cold stone
tighter, harder,
My passion,
my hardwork,
As i swiftly float
from the ground.
Snowy
zephyrs
of laze and evil,
Reign against me,
trying to break my hold.
Yet the fire of my
determination,
Still burns
within.
My thick woolen
coat hugs me tight,
My faith, my values,
Protecting me from
the blizzards of
jealousy, vile,
As i wind
my way
upwards.
A glance
backwards,
And the horrid past knocks
on the veins of my sullen heart,
Yet this soul will give up
no more.
The weary body,
driven by heraculous force,
through the steep slopes of time,
Against enormous storms and stints,
With an armour of patience,
Finds itself on dome of
success.
Ah!
fleeting
moments
of unscathed bliss,
Enamour for success,
And it's sweet sweet honey.
That slowly melts in my heart,
On top of the mountain,
Where everything is
freezing.
From
the top,
the hardwork,
the giant path looks small,
As the heart prepares to climb,
Another mountain.
May 14, 2017
May 14, 2017 at 2:09 PM UTC
Back in the days of old
when knights were bold
who with a sword or lance
in armour sought romance.
It was the age of chivalry
long ago in man’s history
when to fight for a righteous cause
one did gain considerable applause.
It was mainly for show, love and glory
they deemed themselves being worthy
to capture the heart of some fair maiden
which was the most desired prize laden.
Oh, they would strike heavy blows
on all of their opponents and foes
in a one to one combat defying death
as crowds watched with abated breath.
Yes, it was far back in those days of yore
that courage and strength came to the fore
where there was this life and death struggle;
such issues at hand the knights would juggle.
And in fighting for their country, faith and king
noble impressions on people’s minds would ring
that even through the ages are held in high esteem
those knights in shinning armour do now all seem.
There are many legends based on their heroic exploits
a legacy of tales which have been told with much adroit
highlighting aspects of human wisdom related to virtue and vice
and the lessons to be learnt are those of goodness and sacrifice.
History usually repeats itself time and again
as it often happens a situation comes when
we’re asked to do something for a just cause
and acting with chivalry we shouldn’t pause.
Dec 6, 2010
Dec 6, 2010 at 10:20 AM UTC
Young and petite,
Yet fearless and courageous,
In Armour,
As dark as the night,
With sword,
As bright as the stars,
She will fight,
Demons and wizards.
Broken and cold,
She'll gladly take the scars.
Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 11:11 PM UTC
I am the hunter
I’m the chased one
I am the wrong
I am the right
I am the shadow
I’m the phantom
I blow a cold wind
Through the night
*You won’t see me cry a tear
Switch on the searchlight
And in a second I’ll be near
I am the Dark Dark Knight*
I am the fearless
I am the horror
I am the broken
I am the strong
I am the famous
I’m the unknown
I am the knight
Who rides alone
*You won’t see me cry a tear
Switch on the searchlight
And in a second I’ll be near
I am the Dark Dark Knight*
You are the youth
You are the beauty
More than most men
Could ever take
You touch my skin
You kiss my armour
Drawn to a heart
You’ll never break
*You won’t see me cry a tear
Just close your eyes
And in a blink I’ll disappear
Into the dark dark knight*
Mar 25, 2015
Mar 25, 2015 at 7:49 AM UTC
"Be careful who you call a King"
All the romantic girls want a 'knight in shining armour'
All princesses want some noble king to sweep them off their feet
All the bad girls want a rebel who's mean with lots of green
Well... I'm all three
I want the joker
Who can outwit the knight in a fight with only his words
Who can make the king laugh with accents and gestures so absurd
Who can cause the rebel to cry and fly away like a scared little bird
I want the joker
I'm a poet
I need the joker to take away the sadness in the words I write
I need the joker to willingly fight for me with his own life
I need the joker to stand tall and proud, yet admit when he's not right
I need the joker to love me fully, unbiasedly and with all his might
I'm a poet
Knights are overrated
Kings are old and outdated
Rebels are deathly fated
Jokers are an eternity
Cause laughter can surely never die
Jokers are everything
Cause my heart will surely never cry
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 6:53 PM UTC
Side by side, their faces blurred,
The earl and countess lie in stone,
Their proper habits vaguely shown
As jointed armour, stiffened pleat,
And that faint hint of the absurd -
The little dogs under their feet.
Such plainness of the pre-baroque
Hardly involves the eye, until
It meets his left-hand gauntlet, still
Clasped empty in the other; and
One sees, with a sharp tender shock,
His hand withdrawn, holding her hand.
They would not think to lie so long.
Such faithfulness in effigy
Was just a detail friends would see:
A sculptor's sweet commissioned grace
Thrown off in helping to prolong
The Latin names around the base.
They would no guess how early in
Their supine stationary voyage
The air would change to soundless damage,
Turn the old tenantry away;
How soon succeeding eyes begin
To look, not read. Rigidly they
Persisted, linked, through lengths and breadths
Of time. Snow fell, undated. Light
Each summer thronged the grass. A bright
Litter of birdcalls strewed the same
Bone-littered ground. And up the paths
The endless altered people came,
Washing at their identity.
Now, helpless in the hollow of
An unarmorial age, a trough
Of smoke in slow suspended skeins
Above their scrap of history,
Only an attitude remains:
Time has transfigures them into
Untruth. The stone fidelity
They hardly meant has come to be
Their final blazon, and to prove
Our almost-instinct almost true:
What will survive of us is love.
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The righteous and brave die but one death,
but what if they die for those very reasons?
As cowards stand tall in gleaming armour,
holding treacherous ****** knives in their hands.
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 12:15 PM UTC
I see the hashtag a week after it ended.
I know that's not what you mean.
You love love.
Honey, you're a hopeless romantic,
a lover of anything cheesy,
or passionate,
or intimate.
After that little symbol,
you really mean **** Her",
don't you?
Don't lie, it's okay.
I hurt you.
You were in love,
and I shattered your fragile heart.
Hate me all you want,
passive aggressive or not,
but just know that I did it because
you deserve more than
a damaged, sad little girl's love.
You deserve to have your own
princess in shining armour,
and not have to save the depressed
damsel in distress
along the way.
So #FuckLove, #FuckHer, #FuckYou.
I understand, dear.
*I ****** up.*
Aug 18, 2016
Aug 18, 2016 at 7:29 PM UTC
(a brief love story)
1/
The morning sun warmed the dew
from the opening rosebud;
a bee visited the fragrant heart of the rose;
the breeze tumbled a petal to the water,
drifted the pale petal across the surface of the water.
You surprised me gently.
2/
I thought - hoped - the emotional baggage
was safely in the locker,
just for once,
just overnight,
but like a Houdini homing pigeon
it escaped,
it came back.
Like a smart missile locked in on thought patterns
it found the target,
penetrated the armour,
and suddenly
just after midnight
I knew how Cinderella felt,
her new world ****** back
through the vortex,
as the life we call real returned.
Nov 4, 2016
Nov 4, 2016 at 3:40 PM UTC
Blink and a star is on its way to sleep,
I'm standing so close to Jupiter,
I can feel its winds sweep me off my feet,
I'm an astronaut without a name,
I'm an astronaut without a name.
Consider this,
I'm away on a cruise to Saturn's ring tonight.
Consider this,
The Sun's so far, it's so cold, I can't feel the light,
You penetrate my gravity armour,
You strike me with your black hole armada.
Neptune looks so lonely at night,
She longs for Venus but she's so far away,
Four hours at the speed of light,
But she's bound by the chains of gravity,
She's bound by the chain's of gravity.
Consider this,
I'm a million asteroids left alone in the emptiness,
Consider this,
I reach out for the blue but I burn in the atmosphere,
Your skies have set me on fire,
Burning in the flames of your desire.
The birth of a star painted in a supernova,
The glowing halo of a mothership,
Is all that was left over.
They reach out for the sun,
They reach out for the sun.
Consider this,
They don't have big black eyes like Mother told us.
Consider this,
They look like him and her we spoke to on the bus.
But you flew your guns at them,
You rushed your bombs at them.
It was on the news that she brought down the aliens,
They looked like me and you but she went after them,
But nobody could be found on the ship that brought them here,
The red lights on Mars they felt was safer than this fear,
And yet she found one of them,
The one who saved them all,
The one who chose to stay,
And take the fall.
The unnamed astronaut.
The unnamed astronaut.
Jul 21, 2013
Jul 21, 2013 at 5:52 AM UTC
XXVIII. TO ATHENA (18 lines)
(ll. 1-16) I begin to sing of Pallas Athene, the glorious
goddess, bright-eyed, inventive, unbending of heart, pure ******
saviour of cities, courageous, Tritogeneia. From his awful head
wise Zeus himself bare her arrayed in warlike arms of flashing
gold, and awe seized all the gods as they gazed. But Athena
sprang quickly from the immortal head and stood before Zeus who
holds the aegis, shaking a sharp spear: great Olympus began to
reel horribly at the might of the bright-eyed goddess, and earth
round about cried fearfully, and the sea was moved and tossed
with dark waves, while foam burst forth suddenly: the bright Son
of Hyperion stopped his swift-footed horses a long while, until
the maiden Pallas Athene had stripped the heavenly armour from
her immortal shoulders. And wise Zeus was glad.
(ll. 17-18) And so hail to you, daughter of Zeus who holds the
aegis! Now I will remember you and another song as well.
7.6k
This axe was made from
Oak and
Anger.
Forged in the fires that
Shaped my cardiac
Armour.
I'll never surrender to a
Woman
Who sees love as war
Ever again.
It's been a long,
Lonely time.
But I've seen peace.
Still sacrifice to the gods,
Praying for brief, cold
Winters; for all other
Seasons to be neither.
They all have room for a
Woman between them,
But my hatred for ego
Is a burning beacon of warning
Even I myself shun.
I just want the silence.
That deep, deep silence,
Whose last word will never be:
"Me,"
But:
"... ... ..."
That, I can love.
This axe was made from
Oak and
Anger.
It beats paper; scissors; stone.
Sees me armed. And still
Alone.
Nov 3, 2016
Nov 3, 2016 at 7:54 PM UTC
Perhaps I'm encased in a box
made out of two-way glass.
A biased one-way mirror...
Mutual vision doesn't meet nor pass.
When you look at me,
you only see,
yourself for all that you care...
Me? Just a faint suggestion that I'm even there.
Maybe that's why...
you ask about my life,
about my strife.
When I'm about to unload my
head,
I end up having to hear about yours
instead.
Perhaps at times I travel around
in a bubble of frosted glass.
Only a blurred version of me...
Clumsily ploughing through the mass.
Incoherent, misunderstood and unclear.
Unintelligible muffles of hopes and fear.
Maybe that's why...
My words are just perceived as
playful rhymes.
Never keeping up with the times.
Words regurgitated but no one
realises what's coming undone...
Perhaps what I need
is an armour of bulletproof glass.
One of unique quality...
One ahead of its class.
You can do and say what you want.
A shell that would bear most of the brunt.
*I'll be impervious.
I'll be protected.
I can be indifferent.
I can be jaded.*
Maybe that's all I need...
*A shocking stunt.
A fresh perspective.
A new plan.
Revised objectives.*
Maybe a different name to start all
over...
To tie the binds and thoughts that
scatter...
Hoping of holding everything
together...
Come morning, all will be
forgotten...
Maybe I'd still be beaten.
So for a chance that's,
fat as hell
or
thin just a sliver...
Truth is of the three, I have neither...
So...
what I've said doesn't really matter.
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 1:36 PM UTC
a knight in shining armor is a man who has never had his metal truly tested.
I start off with a quote, that adds spice to the fish in the boat, who say that their knights in shining armor have fought, hard enough for the ladies who've put in thought, that the man that comes to sweep them of they feet is fit with an armor so glamorous that it shines all the time.
but then maybe they mean it shines with greatness, power and courage,,
shines bright enough for acceptance in her hand in marriage.
but no.
we all know a girl's best friend is a diamond,and according to girls these days nothing shines brighter.
a man with a dented armor is a man who has fought and fought well to survive the opponents in combat from depriving his life from him.
so, this man with a dented armor has been through hard Times,
he gained and lost friends l,had his heart broken again and again he might not look too good but his heart shines,
his love is sublime, for he has learned to love without hesitation,
to love with values and skips the division to think about the multiplication,
you can't get to one without the other but you know what I mean.
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 9:43 AM UTC
bravery isn't just limited to fighting dragons
or wearing that armour of yours
bravery isn't all about protesting what you believe in
or using your fists to do the explaining
it's you at 6 in the morning forcing yourself to get up
because you stayed up all night crying
it's when you try so hard to keep that untouched blade
that you always kept hidden from your parents
away from your skin
it's when you always try to think of "happy thoughts"
and fake your smiles;
although it's make believe, it's a sign you don't want to give up
it's when you feel all your bottled up emotions
rushing, begging to be felt by you
and yet you keep yourself from caving in completely
succumbing from your darkest fears
you always feel hopeless and alone,
but then here you are,
alive
breathing
grasping for that minuscule light
you think you have given up completely,
and that your dreams died a long time ago
but when you listen closely,
your heart is still beating
isn't that a sign of hope?
you are fighting your own wars,
so never believe them when they call you
weak
because you have your own battle scars as proof,
proof that you survive and still fighting
you are the hero(heroine) of your own story
so believe me when i tell you that
you are brave
Mar 20, 2014
Mar 20, 2014 at 11:11 PM UTC
You stripped me of my innocence.
Yours were the first lips
To press passion onto my stunted ****
My body bruised by your touch,
Your forked tongue hissed through gritted teeth,
Caress me, as your hands rattle
With anger, desire.
Testosterone fulled triggers
Blew holes into my anatomy,
Ripping apart my flesh.
Now I tie stitches where skin should be,
I'm bleeding out my purity.
Drip,
Drip,
Drip.
The beads of sweat, roll downwards,
Trickling off your looming armour.
They dance with the oceans in my eyes.
Itching spiders romance with the bones
Upon my empty corpse.
Hollow reeking mass,
Devoured by play pretend.
Love lead way to self devouring devotion,
We play on ties with lit matchsticks.
Broken, singed strings,
Where my innocence should lie.
Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 7:39 PM UTC
You've heard me, scornful, harsh, and discontented,
Mocking and loathing War: you've asked me why
Of my old, silly sweetness I've repented--
My ecstasies changed to an ugly cry.
You are aware that once I sought the Grail,
Riding in armour bright, serene and strong;
And it was told that through my infant wail
There rose immortal semblances of song.
But now I've said good-bye to Galahad,
And am no more the knight of dreams and show:
For lust and senseless hatred make me glad,
And my killed friends are with me where I go.
Wound for red wound I burn to smite their wrongs;
And there is absolution in my song
5.6k
#*What to do when depression
Strikes again
With more of strength
And me falling weak & apart
Unable to get up from bed
For day or two
Unable to scream for help
Or speak up what's wrong
Lying there like a dead
Waiting for the depression storm to pass
I get up from square one
When it passes
But the destruction still remain
Taking one step at a time
To reform oneself
And fix the armour more stronger
Than ever
To wish for more strength
To weaken the depression storm
And make myself more stronger.*#
Mar 4, 2018
Mar 4, 2018 at 1:20 AM UTC
I’m a Polyglot Polymath, Microphone’s a Polygraph,
Manners of a Sociopath-Rhymin’ keeps me on the path,
Else I’d be hackin you up like a cannibal,
Pullin the Chianti out-serve you up like Hannibal,
Words heavier than Elephants invading cross the alps,
Under Armour over Body Armour-waistline fulla scalps,
From the Belt o’ the Celt o’ the Schizophrenic Sandman,
You’re triple teamed by -EC- Raps new Xmen.
I broke me chains,some say I went insane,
But it’s simple,all I went and did was grow a brain.
be the Bane of your life,while Mal plays Dark Knight,
A rhyme Super Villain with a verse of Dark Light,
The searchlights on-watch the cockroach scatter,
We speak Dark Matter while your brain gets battered,
batten down the screws-worldviews get skewed,
Mal and Sandman's Positively Mental Attitude.
It’s the original Irish OG rough rugged and ready,
Battling me is futile keep your hands steady,
I’m no pacifist,and if you take the ****
I’ll clap you with a fist like an obelisk,
That’s a grave warning,-global warming,
The Dragon of Eire ,skies look stormy…
Since cassettes and disks I’ve been spittin ****
That makes wannabee’s wanna slit their wrists,
The Sandman’s calling,come in and take a mauling,
Rappin since clappin one two and yes y’allin,
from New Aulins to saint Pauls my kin,
Are gathering for the quickenin,pulse races,air thickenin'
Highlander in a land cruiser,take your teeth out like a dentist
E.C’s BRUISER.
batten down the screws-worldviews get skewed,
by Mal and Sandmans Positively Mental Attitude.
Apr 26, 2016
Apr 26, 2016 at 1:36 PM UTC
No. It's an impudent falsehood. Men did not
Invariably think the newer way Prosaic
mad, inelegant, or what not.
Was the first pointed arch esteemed a blot
Upon the church? Did anybody say How
modern and how ugly? They did not.
Plate-armour, or windows glazed, or verse fire-hot
With rhymes from France, or spices from Cathay,
Were these at first a horror? They were not.
If, then, our present arts, laws, houses, food
All set us hankering after yesterday,
Need this be only an archaising mood?
Why, any man whose purse has been let blood
By sharpers, when he finds all drained away
Must compare how he stands with how he stood.
If a quack doctor's breezy ineptitude
Has cost me a leg, must I forget straightway
All that I can't do now, all that I could?
So, when our guides unanimously decry
The backward glance, I think we can guess why.
5.6k
Here is were it all begins
Now a life time to unfold
A future lies deep within
And stories will be told.
Your road it will be rocky
You will face those stormy seas
There'll be times you will be happy
And times down on your knees.
You will find that life's a journey
You'll get lost along the way
But your not alone there's many
Who get back on track again.
So put on that suit of armour
It's a dangerous world out there
Beware of all the trappings
Their are pitfalls everywhere.
Don't look back you have a future
And hope is what you need
Your life will be your teacher
And lessons will be learned indeed.
You will find that new horrizon
It is there behind the door
That door will surely widen
And the world it will be yours.
Jun 30, 2018
Jun 30, 2018 at 4:55 PM UTC
The tractor stands frozen - an agony
To think of. All night
Snow packed its open entrails. Now a head-pincering gale,
A spill of molten ice, smoking snow,
Pours into its steel.
At white heat of numbness it stands
In the aimed hosing of ground-level fieriness.
It defied flesh and won't start.
Hands are like wounds already
Inside armour gloves, and feet are unbelievable
As if the toe-nails were all just torn off.
I stare at it in hatred. Beyond it
The copse hisses - capitulates miserably
In the fleeing, failing light. Starlings,
A dirtier sleetier snow, blow smokily, unendingly, over
Towards plantations Eastward.
All the time the tractor is sinking
Through the degrees, deepening
Into its hell of ice.
The starting lever
Cracks its action, like a snapping knuckle.
The battery is alive - but like a lamb
Trying to nudge its solid-frozen mother -
While the seat claims my buttock-bones, bites
With the space-cold of earth, which it has joined
In one solid lump.
I squirt commercial sure-fire
Down the black throat - it just coughs.
It ridicules me - a trap of iron stupidity
I've stepped into. I drive the battery
As if I were hammering and hammering
The frozen arrangement to pieces with a hammer
And it jabbers laughing pain-crying mockingly
Into happy life.
And stands
Shuddering itself full of heat, seeming to enlarge slowly
Like a demon demonstrating
A more-than-usually-complete materialization -
Suddenly it jerks from its solidarity
With the concrete, and lurches towards a stanchion
Bursting with superhuman well-being and abandon
Shouting Where Where?
Worse iron is waiting. Power-lift kneels
Levers awake imprisoned deadweight,
Shackle-pins bedded in cast-iron cow-shit.
The blind and vibrating condemned obedience
Of iron to the cruelty of iron,
Wheels screeched out of their night-locks -
Fingers
Among the tormented
Tonnage and burning of iron
Eyes
Weeping in the wind of chloroform
And the tractor, streaming with sweat,
Raging and trembling and rejoicing.
5.1k
You must understand my fear
As I grow closer to you dear
No more bite or insurrection
You penetrate the armour
Hard covers but tender underbelly
Be gentle in your stroke
Blisters fester
Red welt of swollen lips
Let the blood fall as it may
Unafraid
You are the light in my everyday
Slither hither
& crawl over blistering heat
You seek, you sting
Sharp penetrating glance
Venom glistens like the dewdrop
Do drop & Let drop the droplets
Wet hard the mind ****
Chittering madness
Stinger in brain
Dark obsidian, your poison sings
Your back
Glistens shiny.
Your armour penetrating dance
Brings me back
Tail quivers
Knees weak
Crawl to me
The strike
The sting
Your poison venom
The venom inside me
No antidote or logic
No rhyme or reason
Your venom sings
sound gone
Mind blown
Eyes blind and heart bleeding
I am your zombie baby
Obey me
Tease me
Play with me
Seize me
Sting me
Again and again.
Sep 3, 2016
Sep 3, 2016 at 12:26 AM UTC
*
*
I watch you from afar
my greatest love in argent-kissed armour
He who dreamed of being greater than
a mere fighter, stronger that a solider,
wiser than the Kings who pass and come
He who is born with an angel's allure,
he who unites all from all walks of life
I feel your vesper gaze upon me,
ambitious, charming, wise and poignant
With a charisma, a light that outshines the
very sun, a heart warmer than gold
and softer than cotton.
I pray you will succeed
That you will find your way
For no matter how far you wonder,
and how I think of you in yonder
I know in my heart,
You will return to me once more...
*
*
Aug 15, 2018
Aug 15, 2018 at 5:04 PM UTC