"axeman" poems
My heart left my body,
As the axe of anger,
A tool brandished blood red,
Did cut off my head!
It was placed on a table with
writer's ink and paper.
A heartless head
ready to make
hurtful verses.
Words flowed from a place
My heart no longer dwelled.
The axeman tore out my heart with
a ***** fist,
Chucked it onto the stone.
My swollen eyes glanced at the
****** ***** -
Bleeding to death on the floor,
Hearty blood that echoed your name.
Without Heart,
I created words of revenge.
The dark creating spiteful spoken lyrics
Into spiteful words
on paper heading for you.
It had an evil style.
A mocking tone.
My mouth and the floating pen cried-
**** YOU!
While my torn heart raged at its
absurdity.
It was too late.
I was executed as heartless.
Lying near death.
Gentle hands wipe my tears.
A sewer's stich patching up
my mutations.
I am frozen,
Alone in the dark.
A just punishment.
I realise now, the black ink
Was as black as evil itself.
My souless state has turned
Love into Hate.
It has ruined me.
I want to tear out the stitches.
Show the whole world my ******
up mutations!!
I deserve to die.
For I would rather be dead
Than have lost your love.
The loss I caused with my body
that was
without heart.....
**** myself.
I truly did.
I wish I could undo time.
But I am only human.
One who does not fight to keep her heart.
Her soul.
Her memories.
One who turns anger into words.
Words into the end.
Fini
Jan 30, 2010
Jan 30, 2010 at 10:33 AM UTC
Thelonious Tree had so long been in slumber
that no one alive could remember the number
of years he'd been snoozing, and it became understood
that Thelonious Tree was asleep now for good.
On the first day of spring dawned a day calm and fair
when a horrible noise pierced the still morning air.
It rattled his roots, yes it shuddered his trunk
and dimly Thelonious heard the cathunk
that rustled his leaves where birds were at nest
till grim and confused, he was roused from his rest.
Ancient Thelonious opened one bleary eye
saw the soil caked with concrete, saw how smog choked the sky,
and worse still he saw that clamorous sound
belonged to a man far below on the ground
with an axe in his hand and the axe went cathunk
each time it was buried in the side of his trunk.
From a slumber so deep it had lasted an age,
Thelonious now woke to a terrible rage.
He shook of the very last traces of sleep
as he pulled out his roots from their place in the deep;
he reached down and with a sickening smack
threw that axeman so far he would never come back.
The man landed far off in the limbs of some trees
where he threw down his axe and he yelped out a "please!
that the trees were alive, why I never did know,
I'm done with my axe now; I'll just help things grow!"
Meanwhile Thelonious found that nothing was green,
there were but stumps in the earth where his friends once had been.
They were now houses and fences and tables and chairs
they were burning in chimneys and polluting the air.
Heavy with grief, he at last understood
that the humans cared nothing for trees; only wood.
Feb 28, 2013
Feb 28, 2013 at 2:15 AM UTC
The tree are whispering in hushed silent tones
Their voices carried softly by the wind
Caressing the whole forest with their hymns
Suffused in their cries, the arrogance
And greed, and vanity of men
Men that were tasked to guard creation!
Their chants deafening, echoing, increasing
In brave tumultuous waves
Growing ever louder
Pushing the rivers and tributaries into the seas
Infused in the currents
The laments of the helpless
Trampled, and ravaged, and killed
With violence and impunity!
Be wary of the axeman, the hunter, and the miner
They are lurkers, waiting in the dark canopies
Waiting for a chance to **** and pillage
To **** the forest out of its wits
Until it loses its lushness and vitality
'Til it surrenders its grip from the divine earth!
Be wary of the forest ranger
For they are the ones that orchestrates
The relentless and appalling ******
That decimates lives, hopes, and aspirations
They perpetuate the madness
They are the harbingers of chaos, they are destruction
Their charm, vile and putrid
To ever allow them recite their prose would be death!
But never despair,
The sleepers have woken
Those with quiet ears slowly hears the noise and commotion
The deniers have silenced their self-serving lips
Await that moment, when the silence is fractured
By the forest, howling in raging defiance
Justice will be swift, the wolves will be unraveled as sheep!
And only then says the oldest of the trees
Can the children of the forest roam free.
Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 6:43 AM UTC
today you made my bones shiver
like you were the winter frost
and i was an an old birch tree
i can feel my leaves turning crisp
breaking off, crumbling
deteriorating
today you made my bark peel
flecks of me twisting onto the solid dirt
turning cold in the frost, hard and stiff
leaving me naked before you
I am splinters and knots
vulnerable
today you came as the axeman
blunt weapons at my side
the deer are scattering at the noise
the birds tweeting madly, desperate
the wolves howling
you've stolen my limbs now
claimed them as your own
I am only a stump
Aug 2, 2014
Aug 2, 2014 at 2:20 AM UTC
Condemn me to the noose
or tie me to the chair
pump me full of killer drugs
and just see if I care
Line me up a firing squad
tell the axeman that it's time
poison me with cyanide
I'd re commit my crime
Acid bath or burning stake
or drowned me till I'm dead
flog me flay me openly
I'll not take back what's said
Rack or iron maiden
stone me from dusk till dawn
crucify my body
Ill still mean all I've sworn
Do your worse to hurt me
stab deep thy sharpened knives
but pray dont just leave me
that's a death
I can't
Survive.
Nov 23, 2012
Nov 23, 2012 at 8:03 AM UTC
It has been resolved!
It is a crusted concept, inept and unabashed
It is the last call on a windy city tram to the south side
It is a favorite sports bar closed for remodel
The pleasant bliss of air and undisclosed favorites
I will finally extricate myself from the grips of Charybdis
I will continue on, my sail billowing with glee
the air is my fuel and neverrun empty
Can you give a piece of El Dorado to my newfound friend,
Can you give them the same happiness you promised me
and don't let them wonder too long
These unforgotten experiences that mean something to you--
It is an orange rind in the water, silently exfoliating the ions
It is a concrete structure undefined
All the stones that are friendly and snuggled intently against
the mold
I will find new homes in the volcanic chains and wonder about you
You will never again remember the same way who I am, just the faded constraints of the way I challenged your brain
Think of new things! See the trees as lungs
and breeeeaaaathing
You'll find that love in another chunk of god, no complaints for the weary
The kind and lovable axeman who cuts u--Pondicherry
I am a static mold and will rapidly extrue
All the magnificence of things that I cannot view
I am a rhythm of the heart, a beaming drum
I analyze the air and drink it like ***
Fermented love of god, give me no return
To give that which no man has earned
thank you,
sweet love
thank you for showing me something new.
Dec 3, 2018
Dec 3, 2018 at 7:18 PM UTC
I sit in a dark, musty room, the smell of damp penetrating my right to my bone.
the familiar shadows and lighting comforts me as I sit in the chair, staring into the mirror
The distant screams from far below are all too loud, but the scrape of metal on stone is worse.
I can hear my favourite song playing, and the crunch of a car pulling up on the driveway
I stare out the tiny hole in the wall above, focusing on the feet scurrying around in an attempt to ignore the bloodstains on the floor.
one last time I gaze at the familiar room, which has been mine forever, and will be no more
The key scrapes in the lock and the gate sqeaks open.
my mum knocks on the door before popping her head around
It's time
Roughly, I am forced up and one set of shackles replaced with another.
she guides me out of the room, crying already.
Reaching the door to the world, a quiet warning is uttered before I am forced out into the bright sunlight.
mum shouts for my dad and together we climb into the car, on our way at last.
I haven't left that cell in 16 years.
My time in that house is over- now I'm 25.
Stumbling over the cobbles in the glare I was so unused to, I barely noticed the shouts from the crowd which had gathered.
Everyone cheered as I got out, but they sounded muffled, entirely unreal.
The block on which I placed my head was well bloodied, stained brown from years of use.
The aisle was smooth, worn by all those who came before me.
I paid my toll and the axeman said something to the crowd- I couldn't think because all I could see was a well dressed woman standing where my daughter said she'd be.
He stood there beside me, as did the priest in his ceremonial robe.
I realised that was my daughter- not the eleven year old I remembered, but a twenty seven year old with her own family.
And so I am passed from my father to my spouse.
I opened my mouth to call out to her, an-
"I do."
I woke in a dead sweat, convinced that one must be true.
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 5:46 PM UTC
You say you're an ally of change
Raising your fist to the cause of the moment
But we all see you strutting through the streets
Paying no mind to the people around you
Begging on their knees for your grace
Don't tell me your hero story
Don't pretend that you care
If you really want to show me
Just say that you know me
When the world's injustice comes to bear
Down on me
The weight is on my shoulders
But you can lend a hand
This cross is mine to bear
But you can help me up
When it falls
Down on me
Don't sell me your tales of noble glory
Don't play the savior's role
If you really want to show me
Just say that you know me
When the world's injustice comes to bear
Down on me
When the axeman takes his swing
It falls down on me
When the gavel drops from above
It falls down on me
When the house of cards falls apart
It falls down on me
Jul 27, 2020
Jul 27, 2020 at 10:03 AM UTC