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Casey Jan 2015
Fool me once, shame on you.
Fool me twice, shame on me.
Fool me again, this is getting old.
Let's just skip to number ten, I'm way past just being bold.
I think I can do whatever I want
But no, consequences exist...
Backlashes exist...
Other people exist...
C'mon I need to resist!
Self control is my issue and I need it to survive.
Help, some one help I just need to feel alive.
jeffrey conyers Jul 2016
*******, complaining again.
Well, that group doesn't exist except when bigots speaks.
And when they speaks, it's to the group that created racial mistakes.

Who feels they still should be treated like royals?
When in truth they facing destructive backlashes for their past.

Oh, those Mexicans, them wetbacks just coming here illegally.
Strange that many gets hired by the forces in power4.
And paid less to achieve their required purpose.

Then when they are exposed as cheap-scapes.
Then trouble arises to ship them back.
And the excuses begins that many was unaware.

Yes, excuses from one group isn't nothing new.

Discrimination they drive upon.
Especially if they the ones gaining from it.
And they still trying to demand respect.

What the heck?
Like slave-masters they barely got their hands *****.

So most likely that nut might win the election.
Hate Words Eight Words

The face is now veiled in darkness
Soul of a beggar but name of a king.
I used to grasp his embrace
Now of him, I have no trace.

Holding the globe of the past
He stands, is, memory of distress
I watch him quickly breathe his last
As trudges the souvenir of thievishness…

I summon my self’s shield
Silent steel, I stay still
Nightmare, my battlefield
I was, am, guided by my will.

His lust eyes me and smile
Fight in the flesh, he purs
Slime of a sight sick and vile
Covered in cowardice and furs!

Verbal violation of his desired aether
He who despises mercy to absolution deserves neither!

Seated on his malachite throne
He attempts to break my temple
I constrict my ocean turned ripple
It awaits, is, will be a cyclone.

The viciousness of his speech
Echoes in my mind from afar
I am no lamb on his altar
Vicious blood-thirsty leech,

He twists his hem of power
With a swift sound, removes his helm
Walt Whitman in the refreshed bower
Lend me your boldness in your realm!

Blank and wide are his irises
Empty shell of a shabby knell
As he, mud-eyed, rattling, rises
My mother’s doom for which she fell!

Violent destruction of his born aether
He who despises mercy to absolution deserves neither!


His coarse voice resonates
In the shame-paved room
He shines, splendor of his gloom
Empire of unknown coordinates,

Naught of an ultimate utopia
Boastful volubile hegemony
Defecator of his dystopia
Machine of his misogyny!

Hear my battlecry, begone
You have with your blade
Tainted my giggling jade
Lo! I am amazonstone!

Point your ringed finger
Your mysterious misery
Hails no glory or mystery
At the gown of your anger,

Vivacious victory of his degraded aether
He whom despises mercy to absolution deserves neither!

I face you, clad in love, glad
I remember your name I had
I fed your face to the flame
To shush the shreds of this blame…

My femininity are my swords
Of peace I touch the infinite rare rim
Eight words against your eight words
Shout a mea culpa seditious stream

Of a tongue that I despise!
I felt your despair’s backlashes
Do not fret about your demise
To me you are already ashes!

Sit down as I melt
With my inner core
You tastelessly tried to smelt
All your hope and your last ore!

Vivified volition of your pugnacious aether
He whom despises mercy to absolution deserves neither!


My long silver birth-link
With you vanishes
I mark with the ideal ink
Your name on your fleshes.

Your image flickers and stutters
That’s the paralyzing current I felt
Horrendous is the thought of your belt
Your astute apologue blinks and blathers…

I close the door of your crumbling palace
Your voiced obscenity put to rest
I won’t wait for your inaudible, alas
Apology for this thread of threat!

Gone is the blood of your shade
Slowly to the ground you will fade
Away from the light you begot
You ******* bipolar bigot!

Voidableness of your daughter’s aether
He whom despises mercy to absolution deserves neither!
Written to my father during an assignment about gender at UCR
Anthony Simpson Dec 2010
Her eyes bleed and light backlashes from the closed eyelids
seemingly beautiful that her eyes wield such painful grace
her face sincere of all pain inflicted, with no care
nevertheless she bleeds and shows no emotion of pain
sheer ecstasy of being in the pain we've all caused her
she's the good kind, God's kind, what we'd all lie to be like
she's the one, who hides it all, lives a small life, does it right
holding everything tight it falls apart but she's still standing
the suffering makes her strong knowing she can hold out
because He will never stop holding her
Written Nov.27,2010 2:29am
Geetha Raj Nov 2011
Why do I feel that he is still my world!
Why do I still love his beautiful curls!
I hold to his memories, like they were pearls!
I'm stuck in emotions, twisting like whirls!

Does he realize I've lived through these lashes?
Will he even know, if my number flashes?
Wonder if my smile, on his screen-saver he watches!
Wonder when memories peep, he stops or backlashes?

Do I regret, now as I bethink?
For an affair that was gone, even before I winked!
We were man and wife, though it was not inked.
We felt our love, would always keep us linked!

Does he still care? Does he still tear?
Will I ever dare? Why do I fear?
Verdicts were made, and we adhered!
Just live to bear! Life is austere!
Written on 26th March, 2010.
Don't you wonder, "What would it have been if...".
Imagination can take you to a different phase of life altogether.
You compare the false life you love in your imagination only to hate the reality in your true life! What a paradox!
Meaghan G Jul 2013
#2
I’m getting bad at what I do

I’m getting words stuck behind my teeth like pills in peanut butter,

words stuck between my teeth like apple pulp.

I’m getting backlashes of food poisoning,

how my whole body became a devil entity and I swooned  in and of desperate consciousness,

how walking was the hardest.

Like how acid trips give you acid slips

Like how you never wanted me,

like how I’ll stop caring eventually.

But now I’m choking on my words and there’s no excuse

And I used to write poems about self abuse

that I never gave myself.

But for now, words fumble

like I did for you.
simple, from 2 years ago
Jaye Bennett Nov 2012
Tears have fallen as stars from the sky
Destruction of human self with each meteorite
Truth prods this soul once led by a lie
Dares to question causing pain making it aright

My everything saw my error nearly to late
Suicidal thoughts are no relief nor thought of end
Mighty lies tie and bind to quick a rate yet
Sent me to thy Savior did my lover an' friend

Breaking free from chains that choked life
Running from the beach to Tower upon the Rock
Backlashes come yet I remain unmoved
Rock of Ages has become my Eternal Salvation

Written about a year ago
Published 11/27/2012 During similar emotional circumstances
Yasmeen Hamzeh May 2014
Dreams, maybe even reality. They mix, like an image of liquid.
Starts out smooth, before the burn, before the aftertaste.
A grey, almost invisible mosaic slowly dissipating into thin air.
It filters through, down your shoulder blades, past your collarbone and right underneath your ribcage.
It is met with a sizzle, the one that shoots right up your spine.
So many contradictions, all promising yet distant  .
Gruff, like sandpaper yet a little less revolting.
The palpitations intertwining, drawing the minutes out.
It starts to sting, then slowly turns into numbness.
It is welcoming and comforting.
Remembrance is but a fatality, losing sense of time.
The moment backlashes, the atmosphere crackles like bones.
Thoughts of things that don't exist, a new plane of existence.
Condensation, trickling and dipping between crevices.
The air is thick, not safe for use.
Every breath turns into a chore.
The only focus is the slow and muffled inhale followed by a regretted exhale.
Answers become twine, slowly unraveling.
They seem clear, but the illusion matured.
It surpassed the point of recognition, leaving a trace of resemblance.
The itch is unbearable, gnawing at the center of the subconscious.
As it all slowly filters away the emptiness turns to comfort.
The feeling of fulfillment becoming too distorting, and the calling for loss begins.
Varying pressures assure one thing; the existence of movement.
The cloaking of heat starts to slip and sudden rushes of frost accentuate the loss and gain.
The silence is unusually foreboding, but needed.
Calloused fingertips don't burn, but summon shivers instead.
Sudden unwanted thoughts play out behind shut eyelids.
It is all just a texture, nothing more.
Not what is expected but a dip in time, a halt in speed.
Soon the clock will start ticking on and the gap will bridge itself.
It is the hesitancy that keeps the moment hanging.
It is the fright of losing a small piece of understanding, or the warping of simplicity.
Jamie L Cantore Jul 2016
Deny thyself any such loving touch I giv'st,
Upon thy neck, upon thy bust, thy lips-
For if thy ever doubting trust has soared
Into the obscure, Oh! a most just reward
For my actions, then I must account
For this and more, for, I am thus bound
To these backlashes which I must endure
In these days of no fair love, this shut door;
Which I admit aquit me not of Lust before;  
And days know thereof, evil once did line
Within me then, now exposed; once within,
Always with. Fair enough, I admit my sin!

"To err is human; to forgive, divine."
"To err is human; to forgive, divine."    
-Alexander Pope
Graff1980 Mar 2016
An explosion
Rage at the system
Red
Violent
Rage at injustice
Blood
Anger
Rage forced inwards
Backlashes
Brawls
Or Self-harm
And the rage
Rages on
Bo Tansky Sep 2018
From this dugout
No use pouring my heart out.
This confessional doesn’t have a shade drawn
A puppet, a pawn, a perp
A tack on
Littered with detritus
Of somebody done somebody wrong song
I don’t steal anybody’s song,
Wrong
It’s not my commandment
It’s not written in granite
Ambiguities a bad bedfellow
But not a dead fellow
This confessional, this confessional
Doesn’t absolve you with a few hail marys
a thicket of wicked thorn berries.
sick, *******, costumed pretenders-
holy, roly-poly, sanctimonious vendors.
Doesn’t cleanse you at the hip altar.
But of-
the unpure, uneaten, unsure
excommunicated alter,
of the endure
Defaulter, sweet & sour, flower power altar.
Where you shall genuflect to the vanquished
To the-
Soiled, stained, sick, smelly, unkempt and managed
Gross, bone bent, back aching, decried and decrypted.
Imperfect professors of perfection
Who are perfectly right
But don’t know it
And quit

You, sanctimonious vendor of the unpure.
How can you be so sure?

Mary scared mother of-
Stripped of her merriment
Fairy dust
wanderlust
Mary, Venerated Jewish Mother  
Annunciation proclamation
Consummation Abnegation
Hastened your ascension
Toward prop ligation
Fleshly excommunication castration
You shall labor without love
Impregnated with carnal canned pixie dust
On the backs of *****-tonk donkeys
Star-stalking, strange, bearded traveling imposters
Posted on paper indelible,
Forever
They reign.
Please


Mary’s, you have given birth many times,
Not with the ***** of men, but nonetheless.
Birthing their winged  & ribbed women
Angels
Amen.
With the same pixie dust.
Some have called them crazy,
lazy
hazy,
spacey,
****
zany,
brainy
And worse
Some better

You have not called them at all,
Mother of the child-
Child of the mother.
Mother, why did you drop me on my head,
And then leave me for dead?
An abandoned cavern that couldn’t fill the holy womb.
They wouldn’t let me go near you.
Elastic roped and doped and spun
Someone finally won.
It wasn’t you,
Mother.
Child
You were the prize child
Denial child
Anything but wild child
Do no wrong child
Slightly soiled spoiled child
A benediction of denial child.
Precious child
Equalized on such a lofty Persian perch?
Where we have put you
And left you.

You will pay dearly for this, child.
What do you have to say for yourself?
You must plead guilty.
Because if you are not-
The consequences will be severe.
So, how do you plead?
Once in awhile child.
How do you plead?
Once in a denial child.
How do you plead?
I have written on paper pure indeed
How do you plead?
Now I need to burn the paper
How do you plead?
Ashes to ashes
How do you plead?
Mad dashes
Past to present
Has past.
How do you plead?
Now
Backlashes, dashes, and eyelashes
How do you plead?
I’m down on my knees
Trying to please
How do you plead?

Freeze and frozen
A snow-white fairy in a
Snow white fairytale
In a snow-white snow storm.
How do you plead?
Dashes to dashes to dashes
Is this the end-
Ashes to ashes to ashes
Or just another altar
My friend.
How do you plead?
The holy spirit is
light years away.
I will build an ark
to rescue him.

Messages are vague in
this candlelight of loneliness.
How do you fix amnesia
that obliterated love?

I was Brahman not
so long ago-
before the dead  
accursed me with their
melancholy backlashes.

Sara Fielder © June 2018
Realeboga M Jun 2019
Now that you know.
I can’t bear to look at you.

Forcing your pearly whites to appear,
Forcing your hazy foggy eyes to be clear.

I can’t bear to look at you.
Not while I cried for help.

Your mind turns mechanically, going through it’s archives and researching how to solve or rather save me.

I see the exhaustion in your eyes.
I feel the ache in your chest
And I’m reminded that it’s all me.

So I smile, I wear a brand new mask that has no holes or openings for errors.
I under-think and run away from the realization that I can’t escape my depression.

I stare at my anti depressants and refuse to be complacent to its backlashes.
I stare at them and refuse to watch it fully consume and burn me right to ash.

I have a new mask.
Because now you know.

I’ll save us.
Don’t worry about me anymore.

My mask is tighter than ever.
Dustin Dec 2020
To that little childlike romantic,

I pray that you never lose hope.
I pray that you always see the good in people.
I pray that you keep on loving.

You always have been a gentle soul,
you never lost your softness and light
even as the world caved in.

To be honest,
I kind of envied you
I envied you for how deeply you can trust
I envied you for how you could still love
I envied you for the hope you brightly carry
even after what we have been through.

I’m so sorry for making you cry
with all my fears,
mistakes,
worries,
and heartbreaks.
I’m sorry for making you suffer
from the consequences of my actions
And the backlashes of my brokenness.
I appreciate you for staying by me,
even as our thoughts spiralled at 2 am,
even as the world gave up on us.  

As I reach out to you with these words,
I hope that we can find balance,
for you are the goodness and
I am wickedness,
for a brighter future for the both of us.

And lastly,
I want you to remember that you’re good enough, and that you matter.

Sincerely,
The devil at the other side of the mirror
This is self care, i guess

— The End —