"atrocious" poems
Disappointment is thrown strongly at my direction.
Blame gathers in large quantities like a pest infestation.
"It's your fault" and words like "You always make mistakes" evoke anger.
Anger which I want to take out on myself and take out on others.
I can excel in my work of choice, I know I'm more than average.
The bad gets pointed out more and little praise is given for the good.
Stunned by unmoving words. I'm like a prisoner sentenced to jail, released and expected to do worse.
Destruction emerges from my enraged emotions, i wish your words could offer a solution.
I want to be an alchemist and turn things into gold.
It's ironic how I am a creator of words but cant create better words in my critics.
Conversations lead to arguments because i want to be heard.
I'm sick of revolving doors, sick of being slammed by your atrocious comments.
"You have no common sense" you say to me, maybe I just prefer to be in a daydream, my mind drifting away because life is too dull.
Realize that what you say has an effect and that effect can drive somebody or stop them in motion.
Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 5:38 PM UTC
Psychedelic Rose
Hallucinogenic eugenics
False beauty
Portrayed poorly
Because it’s unreal
Yet
The feelings pursue me
Persecution
Prosecution
Against this prostitution of emotions
I sell myself cheap
$20.00
The price for my soul
Sold
To the mass
Extinction of reality
Who’s to say this bouquet
Of roses
Can’t arise before
My death?
I decorate
The interior
To design a mind
That’s perfected
In the opinions
Of those who know
No better
Drama setter
Setting the décor
For the setting
Letting the encore
Bring life
In the form
Of more roses
Atrocious Notoriety
From unwanted fame
Or
A poor poet
Starving artist
Projected as a failure
In this motion picture
Called life.
Oct 4, 2011
Oct 4, 2011 at 3:58 PM UTC
Trump sat in his tower, supreme in every way
Whatever he wanted, he only had to say
The President to the press corps, of him, one day made fun
I’m gonna replace you bud, when your term is done
He started his campaign, they said he was a joke
But he became popular with all the common folk
The stuff that he spouted, was more and more absurd
But the stupid morons, swallowed his every word
He’s a Super Callous Fragile Racist Sexist **** Potus
Even though the sound of it is really quite atrocious
Maybe we could change him, if we tried hypnosis
He’s a Super Callous Fragile Racist Sexist **** Potus
There's no such thing as climate change, everything is fine
Burning coal and shale oil is perfectly divine
Those lefty enviornmentalists love to yell and shout
(making lots of money is what I'm all about)
The Mexicans are gonna pay when I build the wall
And I’ll lock you up Clinton, guaranteed next fall
No one could believe it, when the count was done
The blonde haired, orange faced, nitwit, actually had won
He’s a Super Callous Fragile Racist Sexist **** Potus
Even though the sound of it is really quite atrocious
Maybe we could change him, if we tried hypnosis
He’s a Super Callous Fragile Racist Sexist **** Potus
It’s just that he was used to, always getting his way
He signed executive orders, on his very first day
The Judges over ruled him, and put him in his place
They threw the executive orders, right back in his face
He’s having lot’s of problems, with the phoney press
And though he tweets daily, it’s still causing distress
If he bombed the Syrians, maybe it would make amends
But all he succeeded in doing, was **** off his Russian friends
He’s a Super Callous Fragile Racist Sexist **** Potus
Even though the sound of it is really quite atrocious
Maybe we could change him, if we tried hypnosis
He’s a Super Callous Fragile Racist Sexist **** Potus
The FBI investigate, so he fired their chief
The replacement just carried on, Trump got no relief
Congress is thinking, let's put Trump against the wall
Pence is in the wings, just waiting for their call
He’s a Super Callous Fragile Racist Sexist **** Potus
Even though the sound of it is really quite atrocious
Maybe we could change him, if we tried hypnosis
He’s a Super Callous Fragile Racist Sexist **** Potus
May 21, 2017
May 21, 2017 at 3:55 PM UTC
My love for you
Can not prosper
Without a love for me.
What's left in me
Is cold and dark
And it rests in my heart.
It influences my actions
It influences my choices
And blindly steals my happiness
From right in front of me
Leaving me hopeless.
What have I done
To deserve this madness?
I've let evil distort my view
Of love
And I view that evil
As a knife
That I have turned upon myself
If I have gone crazy
That is for you to decide.
I give you my wrongs
Because I can no longer hide
So this is my heartbreak suicide.
I've ****** up
With all the women I've met.
Either I cheated, lied
Or left.
Now I am alone and stressed
Hurt and depressed
Because it's like
I ripped my ****** heart
Right out of my chest.
Yeah, these are
My heartbreak suicides
And how I've killed myself
On the inside.
Because love is blind
And I've been chasing
That blind ************
For some time.
With this gaping cavity
In my chest
Stumbling over lust
And wasting time.
Losing my ****** mind
More and more each time.
Love is suppose to be
Patient.
Love is suppose to be
Kind.
What they didn't tell us
Is that love is
Transparent.
When we chase and search
It only leaves us more hurt.
We fall and refuse to get up
And we forget our self worth.
Committing atrocities to
Feel less hurt.
When in reality
Each atrocious act
Has only set us back.
What do we do?
Do we keep up the pursuit?
Of something we can only feel
And only look through?
Or do we wait?
Until it unexpectedly drops on us
And make our souls shake.
I guess I should go with the latter
Because I'm tired of feeling
Bruised and battered.
I've made the choices
That have led me here
And my heart is shattered
From the falls.
I am reaching in
And pulling out the fragments.
Piecing it back together
With no sadness.
Praying to God that he never again
Let this happen.
Who am I to decide
If I've lost my mind.
I'm just not accustomed
To change and what comes with time.
I've set my anger loose on the inside
And this is my
Heartbreak suicide.
Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 1:38 PM UTC
**Mastering the whole range of bleats with meanings-
made him think his command of 'goat lingo' was perfect,
But a cheeky Anglo-Nubian goat wasn't impressed by his fluency so remarkable,
"Vocabulary is not all, my dear Sir" she bleated back " your accent is singularly atrocious"**
Sep 3, 2013
Sep 3, 2013 at 12:35 PM UTC
Master, have mercy.
I am Master. I
Have no Master.
The planet
is atrocious.
I am It.
Planet Earth
is atrocious.
I am It.
Why is it so hard
to see
be yond peace?
Why is it so hard
to be
who you want?
The mind, secluded
in a prison rift
of copy paste
makes waste.
Where is my paper?
Where is my pen?
I write for me!
I repeat as if I
will soon
believe.
I write for me!
(logging on again)
The planet is horrid.
I am part of It.
Oh, Peace & War,
do we know it.
Yet with an audience,
my imagination
grows stagnant.
The once in abstract
gathers into form.
I did this misdeed.
A disservice.
Once a dreamer.
Now a journalist.
Jul 9, 2018
Jul 9, 2018 at 12:36 AM UTC
Hallucinogenic eugenics
False beauty
Portrayed poorly
Because its unreal
Yet
The feelings pursue me
Persecution
Prosecution
Against this prostitution of emotions
I sell myself cheap
$15.00
Is the price for my soul
Sold
To the mass
Extinction of reality
Whose to say this bouquet
Of roses
Cant arise before
My death
I decorate
The interior
To design a mind
That’s perfected
In the opinions
Of those who know
No better
Drama setter
Setting the décor
For the setting
Letting the encore
Bring life
In the form
Of more roses
Atrocious Notoriety
From unwanted fame
Or
A poor poet
Starving artist
Projected as a failure
In this motion picture
Called life
Jan 17, 2011
Jan 17, 2011 at 6:08 PM UTC
Vivacious, atrocious
Super capricious
Precocious and ferocious
Precious and gracious
Malicious and facetious
Long lashes
Gory gashes
Fiery slashes
Tunic mashes
Souls igneous
In the end, it’s all ashes, just ashes...
Jun 6, 2013
Jun 6, 2013 at 2:26 AM UTC
I quite like the virginity of a fresh notebook
the way my wrists and palms drag across its leaves
breathing life between lines in pink magic marker or the severity of red ballpoint
I like the prickly practical meticulousness of a shopping list:
a dozen eggs
one pineapple
one bag of fresh spinach
one bag of English muffins
one bottle of dish soap
I like the tender impressions of curlie cues and firty cursive
communicating endearments placed on counters such as:
TAKE OUT THE RECYCLING YOU LAZY OAF ******* <3 XOXOXO <3
I enjoy the audacity of a wandering doodle
meandering
cartwheeling
hopskotching
between
and under and over
indices
and spaces
between shopping lists and death threats
i enjoy the lingering ghost of prose shaped caverns
carved onto seemingly empty sheets that carry on for pages
until they fade like whispers into an evanescence
I crave the obnoxiousness absurdity of a to do list
daring me to take a day off from procrastination
until tomorrow
call Gramma
rent due on the first of the muuuuuuuunth
take the GRE
update resume
be awesome. like a boss.
most of all
I love the pain and joy of a poem
the way it slowly leaks from heart to mind to hand to paper
staining
spaces
urgently
faster than muses whispers
barely escaping onto lines
prolific terrific poetry
sporadic spacious atrocious poetry
I croon over the denial of the last page of a beat up notebook
the way the paper hangs onto spirals haggard
littered with stringy remnants of lists and reminders and death threats and poems and goodbyes
Dec 5, 2012
Dec 5, 2012 at 12:43 PM UTC
Boys are weird!
Us girls will never understand them.
They scuff their knees up and walk out the house with tousled hair,
Can they ever think before they do?
They swing, climb, run, and jump on everything!
Just stay still.
Boys will be boys,
With dirt on their faces and cuts on their fingers.
They stick gum in girl's hair,
Carry slimy frogs in their pockets.
Their appetite is atrocious,
Are they gentlemen deep down?
Boy's language is all washed up,
They'll call you hot instead of beautiful.
They're full of burps and hung up on videogames,
Wrestling in the house every second.
Do they have a nice side?
Dads will keep a good eye on them,
Making sure they're good for their daughters.
Boys never stay like this,
They grow up to eventually become a man.
Feb 17, 2014
Feb 17, 2014 at 4:43 PM UTC
And…it’s here. A future. Agile? I was not enough to be.
Black in it’s entirety. A new beginning and a new ending.
Clockwork. As though a plan hatched by some supreme being.
Dear dog, which came first? Was it the white or the black?
Either way, it effortlessly taints your profoundly glorious genes.
**** this! Atrocious. Drugs?!
Goodness me. How did we get to this?
Horrible, dehumanising, and it’s here to stay.
“Suppresses”. But really only in the mildest of ways.
As if to constantly remind you of the control you once had.
Now ceded in it’s entirety to a tad bit of fad.
Jan 18, 2019
Jan 18, 2019 at 5:25 PM UTC
Disturbances, however hard they try,
Will always be horrifying.
Now alarming is just the thing,
To get me wondering if disturbances are atrocious.
The ramp is not nonthermal!
the ramp is exceptionally nonthermal.
A ramp is hot. a ramp is nonthermal,
a ramp is caloric, however.
hardships are not lean!
hardships are exceptionally zoftig.
Do hardships make you shiver?
do they?
Don't belive that gales are big?
gales are little beyond belief.
Now unimportant is just the thing,
To get me wondering if gales are shrimpy.
I cannot help but stop and look at depressing tornadoes.
Do tornadoes make you shiver?
do they?
Cyclones, however hard they try,
Will always be traumatic.
Never forget the harmful and painful cyclones
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 8:08 AM UTC
my friends are all laughing
and the weather has been kind
i am about halfway to happy
and it is okay if i look utterly
atrocious in every picture
you've taken of me
i hate my smile with passion
and almost all of the time
but i like to think that
my smile is most
beautiful and genuine
when it is mirrored
by yours
Feb 28, 2024
Feb 28, 2024 at 1:20 AM UTC
*Deadly deluded deceitful demon's of: inter-racial racism; murderous religiosity; frightful jealous hackings; tribally usurping genocides; atrocious political strength-of-arms; invading ferocity; selfish presidential reasoning;
Springs cut Irises -
dripping vital red not purple,
far from my window;
self-effacing prime ministerial decrees of war; sanctioned moves by greedy banker pawns; designer labelled terrorism; War, a game now called 'Texas Billionaires Commodity'; a countries paid survival; seeded maniacal jealousy; globalisation's murdering grandiose; grandiloquent made walking bombaster(s) ; revenger mob leaders; our taxed Fools World !?
Globalisation - orchestrated profiteers, betting our losses*
May 21, 2010
May 21, 2010 at 11:16 PM UTC
The glassy clear water does not know.
But it will soon no longer be so pure.
My brush is running out of time.
I must finish the stroke of color.
The task of keeping the color alive is difficult.
The color once as vivid as the sun, is now of an older paper.
The fading of yellow.
The color once as rich as the most palatable grape, is now of a sickly bellflower.
The fading of purple.
The color once as alive as the fish in the pond, is now of a dwindling flame.
The fading of orange.
The color once as striking as the sky, is now of a mountain with no wanders upon it.
The fading of blue.
The color once as atrocious as the fresh blood from a crying girls arms, is now the discolored water she lay in.
The fading of red.
The colors start as beautiful possibilities.
Yet we always dip our brushes back in the pure water to redeem our admired colors.
The fading of colors is the not the fading of excitement.
It is the fading of accustomed standards.
The sun wanted change of scenery.
The grape longed to be big.
The fish desired to view others.
The sky aspired to change with the sun.
The girl begged for relief, she begged for the standards the fade.
The fading of colors.
Jan 26, 2018
Jan 26, 2018 at 10:08 AM UTC
Depression is an ugly Christmas sweater your mother bought you, but you never want to wear, but never want to get rid of, either. It's not her fault, as much as you tend to blame her for it. It's not anyone's fault, really, but god **** that thing is just ******* atrocious and not very-well humored. You do your best to keep it buried and hidden, no one can know that you have it, it's an embarrassment and now, because of it, so are you. It'll be in the back of your mind, in the back of your drawers, the whole time. Any time someone mentions Christmas, you'll rub the back of your head 'cause it'll come to mind, and flood with it hundreds of other terrible memories. Almost everyone has one. Those that do, understand the importance and the significance of it, but those that don't, will always look at you funny. Wonder what the hell you're doing. Set that Christmas sweater on fire while you're still wearing it. Act casual. This is normal. Everyone stops and stares, but no one offers or tries to help you. Soon you realize that it's no one's job to. The only person in the room with a fire extinguisher is you. Are you gonna put it out? Or are you gonna let the whole house burn down? Suddenly the flames are out, and no one noticed them but you. Funny, the sweater is just fine. You can burn it, stain it, cut it, slash it, destroy it in any way you can think of, but it will still be just fine. Everything will be just fine. Tell yourself "everything will be just fine." Tell everyone around you "Everything will be just fine" This sweater will make you a liar, but even when, and especially when, you don't believe it, tell everyone that everything will be just fine, because it has to be. They can't worry about you. You want them to more than anything, but you can't let them know they should be worried. They should already know. They should already know. When they ask you "what's wrong" or "why the long face," you honest mother ****** you lie to them. You lie to their face. You look up and you tell them "Don't worry, everything's just fine. Can I have some more eggnog?"
Nov 1, 2015
Nov 1, 2015 at 8:46 AM UTC
she opens a pack of
sheffield english type number five cigarettes
i rest my head in her lap
as she reads a french newspaper
its raining in paris and theres a girl there who is unhappy
dreams of romantic places never have sad girls in them
she must be a tourist
she sips some strange brew of teas
that has a heavy bouquet
loam and flowers..like a sweet wine
she suddenly laughs and translates a piece of the
french news for me
but i dont hear what she says
i only hear the rich beauty of her voice
i only hear the captivating beauties of her
i lean up and kiss her
she tastes of the sea and english cigarettes
i am lost in her essence and her her girlish delights
she pokes me and makes me look at a photograph in
the paris newspaper...its the sad girl
she looks english
that graceful beautiful elegant sadness
that only english girls can speak without ever saying a word
jezebel sips her tea and smokes her english sheffield cigarette
holding it like girls hold cigarettes in that dainty way
i forget the english girl and her sadness
as i lay looking into the eyes of this dreadlock hippie queen
janis joplin plays softly from her mp3
shes tapping her bejewelled toes to the ancient music
bachelors in literature she loves the written word
she has read everything ever written by anyone
she has read her way through forty years worth of poetry by me
and corrected my atrocious spelling along the way
this is morning in her arms
now you know why i am so in love with her
now you see why she is everything to me
she leans down and lays a single tender kiss on my cheek
and tells me she loves me
this is heaven
Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 6:44 AM UTC
This society is seeming, if you cannot and haven't involve in atrocious thangs you seem counted out in the society.
_It's more arduous if you're broke. Life in nigh stuck _lamentation _in oceans of temptation._
_
_but hold on stronger
not yet the end of whole it, for no__ *matter how goes it,
dreadful night long, there shall always be a brighter day just after the dark.*
_Going to reach peak 🗻, speak affirmation,_
Amen conclusion. - C9fm
Mar 13, 2023
Mar 13, 2023 at 5:51 PM UTC
I would never undress my mind for you so why did I undress my body
Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 6:15 PM UTC
.
Three tears is all that I can almost shed,
I'm wound up tighter than any thread,
as you lay on white sheets upon the bed,
I can't help but think you look beautiful dead.
My hand would love to touch your skin,
my head is full of the most atrocious sin,
but you are so cold and won't let me in,
and how can a veil of lust be so thin.
You can not be any older than thirty,
the way your ******* curve is so **** flirty,
and my mind is full of images salaciously *****
you are so so tempting, naked and skirt free.
And even though I despair to caress you,
its pointless now to seek to impress you,
my job is to clean, arrange and dress you,
make you up to look just like the best do.
But oh! my lovely corpse I have a need,
to see you buried carrying my seed,
nobody will ever know, for secrecy I plead,
you will look beautiful in spite of my wicked deed.
© Pagan Paul (21/01/18)
Jan 23, 2018
Jan 23, 2018 at 8:13 AM UTC
Darling what your words have claimed, is true. I have grown an affintity for you, and, but a mere fatuation would undermine my emotions for you. You could be as poor as the dictionary can describe it, but I would have no dispute with breaking bread on a futon in a one bedroom apartment, for my darling I would have you to share it with. I cannot explain in any way or word what linkage I feel towards you and what imminent, unborn quandry, disagreements or dilemas we might face. I'll be over and above to put those problems to their knees, shut them down and subjugate them. Eye, there will be exceptional recherche, eye there will be dissatisfactory and atrocious, but I vow to never slant in our interconnection. I'll stand by you during quandry and I'll stand by you in a war, because not only my heart that loves you so dearly, my soul has grown quite fond towards you, that never before have. And in all verity, I have gone far more than fall in love. I vow to preserve and protect thee love.
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 4:45 PM UTC
Fear of absolution, relishing of hindrance.
A wall of black, darkness that rests within
To fall under blistering defeat to reiterate the blood red scrolls of sin.
Decimate remains of a hallowed grave,
Torment and desire to those who strayed.
Falter under knowledge of an atrocious cause,
Beg for the black widow to hear you call.
Succumb to the temptation of a lustrous quintessence,
Grasp at the hot wind of a deserts blast.
Underestimate the repudiation of the reserved contrast,
To be forever forgotten, but to always last.
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 7:50 PM UTC
Nigeria 🇳🇬
A lot has happened to you since 62
You're a year older, and still most of your kin hates you
They forget how they may not exist without you
Yes! You are on the brink of hell,
To say your name has been marred with gutter
An act from most of your children
You have suffered the injustices of men
We hear cries of your children in the North
Thousands of hooligans in the South-West
There is so much bad blood in the East
The Middle Belt doesn't know her role or who to follow
Your name has been berated all over the world
Your currency, at the brink of death with the stock market
Stolen funds for those who can grasp it
Banditry for the suffering Masses
Illegal mining, yet no one is talking about it
You have suffered bickerings from people who want to _Japa_
A fluctuating forex makes it no easier
They blame you for their atrocious behaviour
They sometimes forget how fertile you are.
Nigeria!
From East-West and North-South, you have suffered injustices
For decades, you have been subject to malicious governance
Battling all levels of inflation, subjecting your people to abject poverty
Yet the rich get richer, and the poor? More Jejune if you ask.
At 63, I want to fight. For your children and kinship
Fight for your soil and regain your strength
Battle with these injustices and insecurity
Bring down inflation and take back your crown
Debunk all forms of evil committed with your name
And fight for a better 64.
Nigeria is great, Nigeria will be great
Nigeria is our father's land.
Happy Independence Day, Nigeria 🇳🇬
Bellah.
Oct 1, 2023
Oct 1, 2023 at 3:59 AM UTC