"belligerently" poems
Who do you call when your brain is on fire?
When sunshine strips
begin to fade from the bed sheets,
And you find, yet again,
That you've allowed a day's worth of stability
To deconstruct itself.
For a while, a silhouette you will remain,
Chasing the origin of light,
Only to fall into the one thing blocking it.
What happens when a brain is burnt out?
Drawing out breaths that latch to the cold air,
When you stand with weary muscles,
A title wrapped around your forehead,
And a frustration festering.
Holding close to the last remaining memories,
Of security, of solidarity, of purity.
Losing yourself to yourself,
Costs less and less each time.
When do you decide a brain needs fixing?
When the ride home is full of regret,
And your legs cannot stop shaking.
A miserable night will be swept under the rug,
So dogear the scripture you spoke belligerently,
And the world will suddenly seem small.
A breakdown happens when most needed.
A breakthrough happens when least expected.
How do you fix a brain?
Probably, the day without questioning it all,
Will be the day you figure the most out.
If we can get a mixed up mind to settle,
Then the first thing to learn would
Be the acknowledgment of a new, better life.
We will all survive our demanding brains,
if only someone will show us the way,
Will someone please show us the way,
Before another brain is ignited?
Feb 14, 2019
Feb 14, 2019 at 7:59 PM UTC
Leave the light on for me.
I know it's late,
And I'm out wandering the streets
But when I promised I'd come home tonight
Whether I was belligerently drunk
Or mind-numbingly high,
I meant it.
And now I'm wandering the streets
And the streetlights are all blending together
As though they are strung out
On the christmas trees
Of the apartment buildings
On our street,
Except I'm not sure if it's our street
Because I have stood on every step
Of every porch with the light on
But no one seems to be home
And I can't help but wonder,
Did you forget to leave the light on?
Or do you not feel like coming to the door?
I'm trying not to over-think this
But the police officer across the street
Is beginning to stare at me
With beady eyes
That remind me of the rats
That I passed in the subway
Just twenty minutes ago,
Or was it thirty?
I can't read the numbers
Engraved on the buildings
Aligned like tombstones
As though even they know
Our love is going to die here.
Or is it already dead?
I guess I'll know
In the next thirty seconds
Because I have one more porch to go
And I can't help but wonder,
Did you leave the light on?
Aug 21, 2013
Aug 21, 2013 at 1:00 PM UTC
The human being is an inherently contentious creature.
Seven billion rock-wall eyes;
Eyes staring belligerently down seven billion sharp noses;
Noses affixed to seven billion faces;
Faces covered in creases and scars,
Framed in unruly hair
And outlined in stark exactness
By the flames cowering in bipedal shadows.
Into the human heart is chiseled "inexorable".
We are an incongruence:
We row up the rapids,
Scale the waterfall
And taunt the oily heavens from atop Devil's Tower.
We will always get what we want,
Whether it involves killing the albatross
Or playing Gondorff's chess.
Whether we wrest it from Gaia's grasp
Or that of our more miserly peers.
Robert C. crystalised our resolve.
The riot gear-clad Blue and Green with timers in their throats
Stand abreast.
Chanting "Listen to Mother. Mother knows best.",
They begin the forward press.
When an impish grenade leaps our way,
We fling it back between mouthfuls of chips.
The barricades erected
By Mother and ourselves alike
Are many and implacable and incessant,
But they will be broken and overtaken.
They will be broken and overtaken by us,
The humans,
Because we are.
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 8:05 AM UTC
Life is not worth living without love.
We squander our lives, yet search for substance belligerently.
The world wallows in indulgence, hunting for some sweet ecstasy.
Desire situated in our hearts for a thing extravagant.
What’s in a name? Not known in full, not yet complete.
Abandoned innocents, love pledged ‘until death do part’ reveals not faithful.
Is there another dirt road? An alleyway? More faithful
than the sun to go west-bound, love?
Does such simplicity exist? Revived, whole, complete?
Cries lift and salt-stained drops fall belligerently.
What is assuredly, magnanimously extravagant?
What is the original ecstasy?
Was it walking in the garden with you, this ecstasy?
With you, who, to me, is perpetually faithful?
Is it from you that that bliss bubbles over, so extravagant?
Of you, is there an undeniable, unfathomable fountain of love?
We bawl out for reply, until the abdomen aches, so belligerently.
Scars mark this world from its pursuit of the complete.
Peering through the mist, our knowledge is six feet underneath complete.
Redemption, we learn by stumbling, is the finest ecstasy.
On our toes, the paroxysm. We press in belligerently.
To raze and desolate, the swing of the wrecking ball is faithful.
But countering this, a sloppy, passionate kiss of love,
grace so abundant, so extravagant.
Trust steady, hope unswerving, love extravagant,
will be my three until the steam is wiped from my lens in the hour of the complete.
Deeply grasp though, the best of these is love,
from which comes all and any ecstasy.
Know that from the ants to the mountains, He is faithful.
So seek and swallow with all your might, desperately, belligerently.
Therefore, “what do I live for?” ask yours belligerently.
Dwell not in leisure and comfort, but in the painfully extravagant.
Zoom out, turn the merry-go-round. You will find him faithful.
Shake your tree of knowledge, an apple might fall, find yourself not complete.
If you speak silence, you will find no utterance of ecstasy.
I call upon the name, let be known this love.
The sweet surrender, the blissful brokenness, the captivating complete.
Find your absolute identity in this encompassing ecstasy.
Know that what has been done for you, is what is indeed, love.
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 9:57 AM UTC
The down of the gown of the dawn of some gone day,
A ray day that has downed and dawned at sunset,
They have diabolically colonized our divine state,
Belligerently gang ****** our stupendous democracy at will,
The demonic bloodthirsty ********* barbarians,
Declaring a violent war which no one wants to fight,
A losing warring war of one against all.
Impetuously slaughtering our defenseless defenders at will,
Turning the blue-clad fierce hunters to the fierce hunted,
The hunted that are being haunted,
Hounded and hunted by the hunted,
Converting every corner into the hunters’ hunted ground,
The church and the charge office,
The home and the street,
The here and the there.
Who will protect our “toy gun” wielding protectors,
Protect our trigger-shy protectors from the cunning detractors,
As one by one they are won one by one,
One by one by the one that is supposed to be won,
The defenders of our slate state,
The defenders of our democratic democracy,
The defenseless defenders of the defenseless.
They have been plunged under siege,
As every one of them personifies some certain demise,
Every one of them is just some subterfuge death in waiting,
Some truculent death just waiting to happen,
Bust, rust and dust in the waiting,
Stylistically stylistic starving yawning mobile graves,
Prey of their own prey,
The ultimate fray prey.
As day in day out they live the life of a cigarette,
On one side they are smoking,
On the other, they are being smoked,
Any attempt to fight back is regarded criminal of the worst order,
Police brutality,
We forsake them, they forsake them, the law forsakes them,
Who will defend the mighty defenders?
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 6:29 AM UTC
I am at at the bottom of the ocean
Baffled how I am still breathing
Wondering how I transcended
Viewing the world with 20 thousand leagues
Of liquid obstruction to distort my view
I am at the bottom of the ocean
The world does not pause
No one will toss me a line
It is my choice
Surrender to this aquatic haze
And possibly drown
Or belligerently swim to normalcy
The saltwater clouds my mind
I am at the bottom of the ocean
Feb 3, 2013
Feb 3, 2013 at 11:39 AM UTC
it comes in waves of
ecstasy and awe and
I remember so clearly
every tiny quiver of
my restless heart
beating belligerently
against your chest
and your lips and
hands and the way
you held my face
as though it was
something to be
treasured. as though
it was something
beautiful, precious
and I wanted to
cry. because you
are so beautiful and
I, I am so human
and I know I’ll only
ruin you. ruin this
and it matters
so much that I
feel frightened as
I hold you in my arms
Sep 14, 2010
Sep 14, 2010 at 6:40 PM UTC
I write poems for boys who don't even respond to my texts.
I rip my heart in half for people who see a pathway and walk through like it was meant for them to tread and leave their footprints.
I open my mouth to pour out affection and you keep yours in a thin line that does not even budge when I tell you I just want to be with you.
I lose sleep over someone who rolls over the thought of me naked but not the thought of how I look when I'm contemplating or surprised or even belligerently, stupidly angry.
I put trust in you and you boomerang it back, dented and fraying while you tuck yours into your back pocket and save it for someone else.
I carve out time for someone who carves out time within the free time and spare seconds rather than simply making time in the first place.
I write poems about boys who can't even respond to my texts but read them anyway so I'll read my poems and you read my texts and one day maybe you'll wake up with a hollow feeling in your heart and it'll feel that way because by then I'll have stopped writing you, texting and trusting and yearning for your fingertips to trace my lips and your thoughts to coincide with mine and have you want to be inside my head so much it burns and maybe in between my sheets even more.
Apr 19, 2014
Apr 19, 2014 at 3:27 AM UTC
:::::::] ]@@@
::::::::::] [@@@@
::::::::::::::] [@@@@@
:::::::::::::] [@@@@@
::::::::::::::::] [@@@@@@
::::::::::::::::::::][@@@@@@@
:::::::::::::::] [@@@@@@
::::::::::::::::] [@@@@@@
::::::::::::::::] [@@@@@@
::::::::] [@@@
::::::::] [@@@
Negative space is what is
seen in between two
objects.
What do you SEE?
Two faces, black and white
facing each other
belligerently?
Or a
CANDLESTICK?
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 4:24 PM UTC
velvet sandcastles made of himalayan salt
pour through the cracks in the earth's hearth
our institutions have become belligerently numb
so we must illuminate the stains
with fractured fingerpaints
watercolors whimsically welcome you in trust
dwell in bliss
in the forest of freemasonry
jump off twisting turning
blinking winding sprays of saxophones
melodic dance
lyrical romance
young gypsies
just for the day
she asked if they would be willing to play a game
picture this, she said
positive purposeful courageous
to remember that god is all around
in the smallest sound
in the stones
love hides her little face
and plays coy
while she waits for you to chase her
under rocks and around the bend
into rivers and ponds
for love's grace knows no end
Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 12:11 PM UTC
you’ll leave
and when you do
make sure you leave the lights
turned off
and the door locked
I’d like to sip whiskey and
stare at the skyline through my window
while I sit in dark
the light outside would remind me of you
hoping you’d come back home
belligerently drunk or mind-numbingly high
we could go out for a quick midnight escape
or I could step out right now
scream your name in a whisper
you’d turn around with moonlight glimmering in your eyes
and I’d hold your hand to bring you home
but instead I let my sober eyes close
because this isn’t quite your home anymore
while your eyes shine, blood and bone lurk within your smile
so instead I’d choose to lose myself
in a pool of fictitious thoughts
as I’d try to forget the curves you adorned
but I do not want to go through this
so come to me right now
and lull me to sleep
switch off the lights
and leave.
Sep 30, 2017
Sep 30, 2017 at 2:53 PM UTC
As above so below / below I go.. as my soul feels unformidable / uncomfortable, distraught & destroyed / like lapoliths dissolving into soil/
coiled and coined /
.. sold and bought by the same buyers every weekend / do you think the tree gives a **** about what side you need shade in? / blatently impatient / unsteady and steadily waiting on the same old things that kept you incomplacent / belligerently praying , on the day when space and time no longer define how long you'll stay here / keep me awake and far away ../ Far from the illusion of me being this major mistake / "it's all in your head" you say / lying next to my shoulder awaiting day break, / for Pete's sake will the sun ever rise today /
Screaming and shouting,..
as I start kicking your knees and you stand there proudly / watching me pouting / silence worth a thousand..
Pronouns.
"Don't make a sound, we're not alike but I can tell you'll end up liking me somehow. "
Jul 3, 2017
Jul 3, 2017 at 9:29 AM UTC
My mind wonders belligerently;
Eyes piercing the page.
Words pouring profusely into a stream of
black ink, forming words that seep, deep
into the page.
Thoughts submerged in a mist of doubt;
clouding my creativity -- with an
imposing reality; a perfectionist chasing
perfection through the art of imperfection,
absent of clarity.
Sep 6, 2015
Sep 6, 2015 at 10:26 AM UTC
Summer heat beams down, angry and punishing,
brutal light blinds me as my shoulders burn.
My nose and cheeks are freckled, ancient specks once lost
to childhood memories of swimming and sprinklers.
The belligerently blue current bounces
as the shrieks and the smiles of countless kids
chime through the air,
bittersweet as the memory of you.
You who once laughed quietly, like happiness was a secret you kept
from the world,
shared only with me
and the quiet house by the coast.
Now the ports, run down, rotting,
while waves lap at the thin shoreline,
are an eerie mirror of your mind.
Now the chlorinated water only reminds me of your eyes,
clear, but still too far to touch,
distant but reaching,
searching for my name,
for my face,
for me.
I will not visit again.
I will remember you as water, stretching on forever toward the horizon.
Jul 2, 2019
Jul 2, 2019 at 11:15 PM UTC
You were never my thunder -
Loud and bellowing
Sprinting from horizon to horizon
But proof by existence only in the sound
Of your footsteps - angry goodbyes.
You were never rapping against Heaven's gate
Violently, vehemently,
Fist to the earth
Sending the stars rocking in their seats,
And babies shrieking in streets like dominos.
Never once were you the
Rage blasting in the ebony sky,
Exploding with dreams too great,
Memories too loud -
My thunder.
No, no.
Not you.
No, you were the silent slap of light
In twilight's hush.
You landed on all fours, claws etched in the soil
Spewing fire from your fingertips
Every time our skin met.
You sought me out,
The lonely scrap of metal left to rust,
You rattled my fibers
And taught me how to orchestrate warmth
Before I ever knew I could.
You never needed to knock down the doors belligerently
Letting the song birds and howling wolves
Hear about our privacy.
You never needed to - no - never once did I see
The cloud's confetti, and the moon's gaze never needed to be interrupted.
You ignited my currents suddenly, subtly
Ripping through the night for only a moment
Before letting your eyes sink into mine.
You are the mad scribble across the sky, deadly,
Wiping smirks here and there that smudge themselves in pastel shaded sheets.
You break the silence not with voices heard,
But with the electric language of flame -
My lightning.
Nov 19, 2015
Nov 19, 2015 at 6:35 PM UTC
I wanna get drunk
Belligerently drunk
To the point where
I can't tell
The difference between
The lie on your lips
And the truth in your eyes
Jun 13, 2013
Jun 13, 2013 at 11:37 PM UTC
The thoughts belligerently and
deliberately,
circle.
They are laughing and they are trapping
and hoist themselves to the top of
a reckoning and a ******* lack of closure.
They are breaking.
Each one tantamount
to frivolously granting wishes to
urges, panting.
But, they’re in too deep.
I feel needles in my arms and
stitches in my neck.
A betrayal of denial.
Screams and teams,
trading places with endless races.
They came to spare with care,
wired,
how am I still not tired?
The thoughts belligerently and
deliberately,
circle.
But, where are they now?
Sep 4, 2018
Sep 4, 2018 at 10:47 AM UTC
Walking alongside the horizon
Of the striped tie trees
And living for a trump card
Wasting in patterns of living lard
New melodies that caress me
With colloquialism cascading over the sea
It’s what they’re born to do
Do not add it to your mindstew
Link the speech diligently
Live your dawning belligerently
And don’t run out of too many words
Don’t flutter your mind over spells like a bird
My sweet greatness, give me some bones
Nothing else is holding them still
Would it be trite to watch my tone?
I am as flippant as a burning windmill
Help me here, it’s easy to be a stranger
It’s easy to stay filled
It’s easy to ****
Help me stay deprived
It’s better than needing more to be alive
Dec 4, 2018
Dec 4, 2018 at 7:01 PM UTC