"belligerence" poems
They were the knotted extensions of her soul.
They showed how she twisted the truth
right out the lies she had been told.
Since birth people tried to typecast her role.
Marry a man
Have some babies
Grow old
Her family would say someone mucked up the recipe;
sugar, spice and everything nice. She was
dissimilar to the 3. Her sugar was solitude.
Her spice? Tattoos. Everything nice in her
had been stripped and ******* So the only
thing left of that were the bits of metal in her lips,
nose and ears. "Brush your hair 100 times a day, dear",
Her mother had said for years. And she did
until the day she told her parents she was
a different kind of queer. Then,the tears.
Somewhere between her mother's damnations,
her father's belligerence and her usual
rebuttal of indifference, she began to take interest
in her hair. Those long, straight strands were
nothing like her. The red reflected
her parents rejection. In that moment.
There was clarity in the contorted
version of love she had to incur.
She decided the only expectations
to accept were hers. And just like that
the barrier between her and the world cracked.
She decided to dread her hair and dye it black.
As the years went by, her parents learned
to accept their daughter. And in return
each year she would send them a photo
showing how her hair had gotten longer.
She also added trinkets to the locks and let
the strawberry color grow back.
Yet she kept the tips black to remind herself
no matter what the world wants her to be
the most important thing in life was her self-esteem.
Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 4:21 AM UTC
palace of lights caved
blooms through the body
like reality pitted against a comic book
not knowing where life came from
not knowing how it will end
food tubes or road ****
is creation substance-less?
24 carat nonsense,
or pure wisdom?
perhaps bad therapy
for lab animals
and store front dummies
monkeys shudder at needles
unless candied with a heroine syringe
chemistry a science of belligerence and euphoria
pleasure before despair
and than a sea of pain
and a ****
impaling her
the lushly contoured female
a frictionless exchange of power
for ******* ecstatic death
as her eyes bob and flutter
like cascading echo's
my birth tarot card
**** of swords
her favorite when I push through her
like blood bubble gum
b l o o d b u b b a b u b b le g u m
a **** cathedral of lights flicker spit
guttural diphthong
like a vipers castanets
uterine fire bursts like an appendix bomb
her **** a zoo
c u n t z o o
i am peanuts worms and hay
her face a mask to hide behind
breath play
sibilant ****
specter or nightmares
shadows and villains aphrodiac
gagged and drugged
hot ***** bound
a big eyed ****
s l u t l o v e
*** cannibals turn me on
her ****** a goddess
a Russian roulette
for shtttty kisses
sploosh
she shot me
cuckoo spit
k o cuck k o k o o
twizzles willie milk
in a drowning
moss draped moon orifice
under a shattered zodiac
wrapped in tentacles of night
she turns me on
Feb 9, 2019
Feb 9, 2019 at 1:44 PM UTC
sleep walking through you
dead brain with a hard ****
a man
all pretense
hiding behind your skirt
who hurt you like a cold razor bleeding
and who was hurt by you
like a bullet in the chest
your charms killer ray guns
making me collapse from the inside out
like a house in flames
screaming
left out of your dreams
oh dread
an empty shroud
with a charred mouth
who twisted your heart out
a man with a winter corpse for a soul
short ***** and dead tree eyes
who ravaged your bones
and ate your marrow with belligerence
crushing your fragrant garden
my feet pebbles and stones
trampling your bed
while you sped by me
in your new man's muscle car
sneering
you
a laughing hot *****
wearing cold silver sunglasses
and flaming lips
that ***** hearts
blacktop down
in a red fast car
like a rocket with fat Dunlap's
spewing
mud in my mouth
like me
he looked at other women endlessly
like rows of sprinkled cupcakes
for the eating
loving their form
imagining their slick glide
and wet kisses
insulting your tenderness
so you would believe in nothing
until you where an endless black pit
until i found out i needed you
and it was to late for us
your absence a lesson
that your presence could never teach
like snow in the summer
in youth, i was a deadbeat
somnambulist
struggling with angels and hellions
tedium and desire
i feel
remorse for all i have done
and did not understand
only now dusted white am i ready to love you
so please come to me
and we shall make a home
of this tortured cage
and turn it to
heavens tremulous kiss
i have finally learned my lesson
have you ?
Mar 23, 2018
Mar 23, 2018 at 12:32 PM UTC
Louder than Monsters
By: Calla Fuqua
I can’t unhear your ignorance, I can’t unsee your belligerence,
The potential difference you swore you’d make, and the carnivorous path
You chose to take.
You are louder than monsters.
Heaven must scare you and your desire to dissipate,
Your chance to incriminate, the problems you exacerbate,
I can’t articulate your need to intoxicate.
Your laughter is louder than monsters.
You fabricat your pity you pretend to give, as you wait for me to forgive,
That night I have to relive when I dream, of our short lived view of how happiness seemed.
Back then how could I have known that you were louder than monsters.
Your grip on me becomes tighter, the more your desire for me expires,
The more you secretly become a liar, and the more I ask myself why her?
Her voicemails are louder than monsters.
I end up on the floor, after you hit me and you swore,
You don’t say I love you anymore, the way you used to before,
And now I’m just your little ***** you pretend to love as if it’s a chore.
Your silence is louder than monsters.
I pray for you and the guilt you must feel, screaming out our window,
frantic to appeal, for the pain you caused solely so you could heal.
Your lies are louder than monsters.
You laugh when I say no, giving me a messed up world you pretend to know,
Now it’s my turn to outgrow you and your plateau, the one you promised
To let go. While I undergo the pain you overflow.
My screams are louder than monsters.
I still tell myself you love me after you throw your fists, holding tight to my wrists,
As I keep allowing the crimes you commit, to become imprints from the pain you inflict.
This pain is louder than monsters.
Now, nobody seems sincere, every scar is like a souvenir, You leave me speechless, when you sip your beer, like you didn’t just make my whole world disappear,
You say you are not louder than monsters.
All I can do now is reminisce, look back on moments like our first kiss,
Before you led me into this abyss, before I was unable to dismiss the thought,
“What kind of monster does this?”
Someone who doesn’t know he is louder than monsters.
I dream about the day I can throw out your ashtray, The day
I can cast away you whole, no more arms to control my body’s soul,
A day where I no longer have to be your wife,
A day where I can play a character in my own life.
A day where love is louder than monsters
Apr 15, 2019
Apr 15, 2019 at 2:01 PM UTC
Strumming the untuned strings, he stares drunkenly into the setting sun of yesteryears songs, sung of lost dreams and the birthed ambitions of the dark, dark days to be.
Happily, he tears up in the fortunate tragedies, of the reclamation in his dreams, as he seethes out the damnation of his steeds, galloping gallantly through his being.
All seeing, in the finite fleeting when he sings, of strummed dreams to the rhythms of heart beats lost, embossed on the epitaphs of kings.
Sad songs of dreams once had.
Be glad for that, which does not **** you, only to bestow upon you, the gratitude of the weirding ways, in passionate display for us all to play nice.
Shake these dice and jump aboard this bus of wandering poetry, from the porches of poets singing to the sun.
From the morning Moet, to the afternoon beer run.
we sing of dreams
of better things
we blaspheme
and spin the scenes
of our murdered dreams
and just clean the guilt away
I am so awesome as to be devoid of fault.
I am a god that cracks the asphalt.
I am the angel signing the clause, of deserved harm.
I am the indentured servant sounding the alarm, with the charm of a Trojan horse, forced to adhere to the most righteous path.
The first
The last
Laugh of inevitability
Honing in on the ability to capture the longevity of dream warriors, in the lock of predators, in the employ of a senator, from the center of the heart, to impart on you the fear from thieves caught in the plight of those fraught with the graces of an exterminator, exterminating the pro-creators of your world. Soldiers unraveled in the lavished gavels of real criminals drowning in their own subliminal theories of the self imposed heresies of intention.
Free will
A fragile blessing
I cracked, all so long ago, as i gently bestow my belligerence upon your innocence and **** it all away.
I'm the ******* son
Strumming for the only one.
Once.
Before the lore of the storm.
Born of the swoon of a gun.
More than one.
Once.
As the day faded into night, his strumming turned plucking, as he slightly eased from reprise to silence, in the whisper of nights words, easing him into the blur, of sleep.
Sep 9, 2012
Sep 9, 2012 at 3:46 PM UTC
an intergalactic being of the static
trying not to panic
in the sporadic antics
of a frantic romantic
manic freak
bobbing to the beat
of drones and sheep
as the storms seep
from the more discrete
holes in my heart
render me obsolete
and deplete me from afar
weave me the dreams of delicate surrender
cleave me at the seams in vicious splendor
deceive me in the memes of malicious pretenders
and take me to never was
tell me of the ridiculous
the insidious
the belligerence of thugs
the deliverance of slugs
the hideous
wrap me in a rug
with no love
*****
drugs
and a mean mug
peacefully pitiful
Jul 30, 2012
Jul 30, 2012 at 4:09 PM UTC
You're still the first name I think of when I scan my thoughts scouring for a thought; when I need a thought to drift myself to sleep to
I want to view you as innocence and I did for a long time and I tried to take your reticence as a sign of neutrality, not belligerence or a sense of mocking
How silly was I, to assume that 5 whole months that you refrained from the topic of me was neutral
That you were just moving on, but not on purpose
But oh my, you've become more belligerent than I ever expected a little girl with a shrunken ego to be and my, I didn't think you could say those things about me. But you did.
But, entropy is apt to only consume us; yet, the scatteredness of our atoms cannot explain why you chose to tell me that I am not right in life
You've defended yourself by projecting yourself onto me and my making me the scapegoat so you can pick up some girl that you don't have to ***** to ****
And I guess that humanists and I are wrong because well
People ******* ****
Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 11:01 PM UTC
In dead earnest,
she tries to raise hell,
put on an act
as best as she can,
forgetting altogether
she still is a greenhorn
in such matters, though
graduated to be his bride
from a lover for so long
underprivileged all the while,
grabbing the very first chance
after the new found privilege.
He watches her goof up
inexperience in evidence,
out of the corner of his eye
does nothing but conceals his smile;
caught in the act, her perplexity
gives her up, that was the best part
of the act: the bride's belligerence.
Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 11:44 AM UTC
if my pen were a surgeon's blade,
cutting edge,
razor-made
to excise secrets suppressed
in closets of guilt
or shame;
like the married bishop
with the mega-church and
tera-ego,
trading ****** fluids
with choir boys
in the 9th grade
on wednesdays,
after bible study...
like the senator
with two right feet
preaching chastity
while playing footsie
with perfect strangers
on public seat # 2...
like the donald's high-ranking apprentice
who pulled the plug on mc
as he slept
then wept like boehner
all the way
to morgan stanley and
dean witter,
allegedly...
like the mayor out west
with pinocchio's nose
and jefferson's zest
for extra-marital ***
lies
and belligerence...
like the late king
of pop
who so hated
his beautiful black skin,
he beached it white
then paid m. lester
of similar hue
a loot times two
to weave a blanket,
conceive a prince
and deliver a french city,
allegedly;
I would be a lyrical surgeon
with a passion
for incisive prose,
spilling truths hidden,
whole and half
with the cutting edge
of a poet's pen
~ P (#Pablo#ls)
(8/14/2013)
Aug 14, 2013
Aug 14, 2013 at 8:29 PM UTC
I am not reliably informed whether it were
hearsays or rumours, but it feels like an
apocalypse.
I neither relate to gauche nor belligerence
Connoisseur not cynical but I've been made an
adjective,described as a Curmudgeon.
See I have enemies, camouflage had to I, but
then it seems to cloud my judgement like an
eclipse.
These people are all schoolbags
because they said this behind my back.
Unbeknownst to me
I am a Curmudgeon.
Aug 14, 2015
Aug 14, 2015 at 9:02 PM UTC
Blasphemous black cloud, though robust in look, just vapor proud,
You borrow belligerence from swirling west wind's boldness,
Remorselessly you prevent the Sun's extent of rule by limitless light,
You are malevolent to the world to whom sun is the only visible God,
Benevolently ruling the earth, synchronizing the cycles with his moves,
You only have a life too short, not fully aware of your own limits
Or taking in to account, the effulgence of the sun sustaining all,
Why rebel, ever thought about the result of such an impulsive act?
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 10:23 AM UTC
With the intelligence &
stamina of the wolf,
My willpower & endurance
excels beyond most,
With the stealth &
craftiness of the fox,
I take much from my
opposition & vanish in
the night like a ghost..
With the massiveness &
memory of the elephant,
My mind runs deep & retains
emotions for the better of my clan,
With the camouflage &
ingenuity of the octopus,
I escape the pursuing demons
& continue with my life long plan..
With the patience &
strength of the crocodile,
I ambush & clamp down on
my oppressors treading unnoticed,
With the devastating roar &
isolation tactics of the tiger,
I accomplish amazingly by my
lonesome while dominating
my foes with unmatched focus..
With the power, speed, &
belligerence of the mantis shrimp,
I hold the fastest punch in the
world & my power equals that of
a rifle bullet which allows me to
take on all comers on earth,
With the majesty &
grace of the argali,
I climb the highest mountains
with the greatest of ease
staying clear of my enemies
& watching over the scenes
til the next generation is birthed..
True originality...
Shows through my personality..
This is my animality..
What animals do you compare to???
Whats your animality???
Jul 5, 2012
Jul 5, 2012 at 1:54 AM UTC
Last night I had a blast
It was just me and her the entire 8 hours
From 1am 'til 9 something this morning
I cannot remember when we exactly departed
Thanks to that stupid muscle car outside I had no chance to say goodbye
I remember a glimpse of me saying hello
Everything seemed to happen so fast
Though the scene grew slow
We were in a setting that I saw before
But it didn't really make sense to me
However I felt every little detail
Our mind is Amazing
One's thoughts can contradict a lot
Do our actions always have to oppose the freedom of our mind?
Anyway
We were holding hands tighter than we've ever done before
We got the chance to laugh about things that usually would have resulted in bitterness
Never before have we collaborated with such tenderness
Last night was the first time in a long time that we came together w/o domestic belligerence
A few people was present to witness
But they're not gonna remember this like I will
Not even her...
I loved her
I hugged her
I didn't bug her
I didn't shove her
I kissed her
...
I miss her
Even though she's just up the way in her dorm
But...
Everything changed within an alarm
I may not ever get to see her smile like she did
We weren't irresponsible
Although it wasn't planned
However we had kids
...Little princesses
I'm trying to remember where we lived
We might have been living without sin
Because she had a ring on her finger that had a Rose-goldish blend
Around 10a.m I got up and checked my jeans to see if she gave it back to me
I may go early tonight to see if I can finish with what I've started
Hope I can somehow make her believe
Hope one day I can treat her like my Queen
...
Just the way I did in my dream
Nov 11, 2012
Nov 11, 2012 at 6:37 PM UTC
Who can say for sure as to what came first: the seed or the tree?
If the seed came first where did it come from if not from the tree?
But then if the tree came first where did it come from except from a seed!
So then you'll have to re-ask again that question of the origin of the seed.
An endless circle with no logical conclusion soon appears
until one looks beyond the seed and the tree that it bears.
Although the seed comes from the tree and the tree from the seed
each one grows in the ground of mother Earth which both does feed.
The Earth is the womb of everything living and supports all we know
and then becomes the tomb back into which all forms one day must go.
The underlying essence of all nature is of consciousness-energy-intelligence
that includes and sustains all things despite our ever incessant belligerence.
Has anyone ever heard it said that God is in the form of the world
and so all within it carries a divine spark from which it has swirled.
God is the infinite eternal seed of all existence and can be experienced like this:
usually as an overwhelming love within us and as all power, knowledge and bliss.
So the seed and tree came from the Earth which itself has come from and exists in God
and to enquire where God has come from is useless if we haven't transcended this sod.
The limited mind of man has to merge into that unlimited universal mind of the Creator
only then can we know the original cause or final end of everything and of their Maker.
Dec 6, 2010
Dec 6, 2010 at 10:13 AM UTC
you vile of lust,
contained liquid belligerence.
how you instigate my future regrets
in all senses of the term.
burning away boredom at best,
a touch of carelessness and freedom.
and at worst causing obsession
with my failure to pursue desire.
faux self-confidence and heightened hopes.
its just pretend time for adults.
like sliding into dreams
unconsciously without meaning
and while i try to resist
all the impulses and reactions,
it makes me feel natural
like anything can happen
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 7:04 PM UTC
The Quantum anthem sets off the spark of enchantment as I file through things only thought
All borrowed and blurred belligerence baffling beauty, things only sought.
Spiraling sickens the surging of those who surrender their sudden sorrow for meaning to flutter.
Herds of things unheard splurge in cinematic combs fastened by fertility
Charred remembrances burn deep as feelings bleed
Bursting boundless solidifying into expression
Without it battles of head and heart oppression
Redirecting rising ripples focused forward
Onward and steady swaying as my doubt is fading
Curtains close the colossal conundrum crystalizing in my veins
Setting off distant delirium
Honeycomb harbor home
We are not alone
We are not alone
Oct 19, 2012
Oct 19, 2012 at 11:40 AM UTC
Your lovely eyes,
two dark bamboo beetles
bristle with fervor
ready to battle
with mine, seeking truce;
your belligerence,
has a stirring effect.
I am aroused
beyond limits.
Now is the time to act,
make wild love,
ending the lovers' tiff.
I sign the treaty of withdrawal
with a passion filled kiss,
summoning all the force
in your command, you seal it,
with an incomparable another.
Aug 14, 2013
Aug 14, 2013 at 11:27 PM UTC
All around I see the cruel effects of ignorance,
especially when victims try to achieve a goal.
And still some dare to call it brilliance.
They attack with their ruthless belligerence,
like a lion's slaughter at the watering hole.
All around I see the cruel effects of ignorance.
They lack the most basic concrete evidence
with only nonsensical lies to dole
and still some dare to call it brilliance.
What brought about this vicious intolerance?
It seems spite continues to take its infinite ****** toll.
All around I see the cruel effects of ignorance.
They make life for others a dreadful experience
and each are happy with their life's devilish role.
And still some dare to call it brilliance.
Their minds think it's an act of benevolence
when really they steal the light of someone's soul.
All around I see the cruel effects of ignorance
and still some dare to call it brilliance.
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 9:06 AM UTC
Oh ferocious angels,
lionesque children of Eden
on narrow streets and polluted alleyways
whispering cruel things to each other,
you're radiant in your belligerence
and as my enemies you are virtuous.
Beside me in this carpeted rectangle room
a faint glow exhales
from the tall alpine ivory lamp illuminating
firefly wings of blossoms
alluringly exuberant in the afternoon sun-ray
diamond shine and shimmer.
Dusty tin roofs billow
firewood smoke in the thick violet shade fog over-top cabin potted
mountains and hills sprouting firs and rose bushes abounding.
Spectrum cast chandeliers echo staircases which
jot up and up arduous ruby landings,
hardwood floor cracked
and stacks of novels ballast the senescent hallways
of bookshops where poets works and journals diaries and memoirs blur
the serpentine walls with memories.
Angelic the soul which is too often contaminated with
avarice rebellious to concord living
harmonious midst dew grass and calm waters in residential lakes
empathy equanimity, far from Bodhisattva.
Few kinds of darkness transcendental
subduing other darkness to a weak shadow.
There's an importance to admiring the delirium of metropolitan roads on roads
this intricate unspoken connection to those who
rest by stoplights and crawling traffic metallic molten aura of
cars in July heat.
Paying attention to the open window of adjacent apartments
where Mr. Norris waters his tulips and shares this moment
modern meditations practiced
finding a balance in such an anxious
volatile world like this.
Oh ferocious angels, impetuous
forlorn seraphs,
sing! sing and soar!
Boundless is our ardor
and our passion.
Unenclosed is the lion
in it's bloom.
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 3:09 AM UTC
See this handsome cave man,
his lovely dove by his side;
in a metro train, we sit close by,
I threw a gentle smile, to be civil,
but really I wanted to make him smile,
that way we both would gain,
he deflected as if it was a missile,
stared at me as if his stocks went up
in smoke, that very morning.
The dove, was dazed like a zombie,
we live in a difficult world, unreasonable,
that's why 40% of this world hope
something would stop it's turning soon!
"no use running away form immediate reality"
dad used to tell us, over and over again,
"when the seeds are sown as karma,
why, run without reaping the harvest,
each time when you do something,
better be aware, of the result, or else...."
but the cave man doesn't care
so I took him by his scary horn, invisible,
"You need to talk,
you look too stuffed up,
so, chances are that, you'll burst soon"
His eyes I could see, protruded,
face contracted, symptoms of belligerence?
is it a fight next?
"Wait "I said, "My cave man friend,
for long I was a cave man myself
I used to fight, even with insects"
then came one day
starlight playing with wet earth
on a clear night, did the trick,
it was like a vision so sweet,
I became aware of life's worth;
it's time to stop all nonsense we are in to"
**I saw him smile, he wasn't a caveman any more,
his dove was flapping her wings in happiness!**
Aug 7, 2012
Aug 7, 2012 at 1:13 PM UTC
Without a suitable rival, the sad brigade lingers
Conscripts for an unpopular and non-believable cause.
After a drawback, the sober war machine parades.
The collective forces mimics a ploy of belligerence
The transient atmosphere moans a superfluous order.
A wit decides a banner epic for its backlog to dictate
In the ***** populace there waves circular innocence.
The twisted ranks value the immediate imperative
This sudden attitude dresses into a signature.
And a written tragic script obscures their pain.
While the reluctant ones wait for peace to break out.
Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 1:40 AM UTC