"blistery" poems
By: Cedric McClester
As the Protagonist expects
*** as a pretext
Baffles intellects
In an election context
So it’s no mystery
That he does this ya see
When ancient history
Can be so blistery
Given the nomenclature
Of its prurient nature
Clearly I would hate to
Be forced to debate you
But the Protagonist
Has long been doing this
Although he gets me ******
He doesn’t feel remiss
As long as he’s untoward
He won’t fall on his sword
And you can rest assured
That the past won’t be ignored
In any given broadcast
He can be put on blast
Because if one chose to ask
They'd learn about his past
Right down to his hair follicle
The man is diabolical
And also quite methodical
What I’m saying is he’s horrible
Like excrement stuck on a shoe
He’s nasty and it’s also true
Like a bowl of witches brew
He’s impossible to misconstrue
Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2016. All rights reserved.
Jan 9, 2016
Jan 9, 2016 at 1:59 PM UTC
Galactic curls in spirals swirl, entwining twisted mystery,
where time unrolls in blackened holes, no longer bright and blistery,
but writ like runes on starry dunes enclosed in cosmic history
Galactic dust, from novas' gusts, congesting empty spaces
once fatefully flung beyond the tongue of burnt out astral traces,
may recompress and coalesce in distant times and places
Galactic dwarves, like ancient wharves with silent planets mooring
yet still in spin though long done in, hide flares no longer soaring -
magnetic webs of eons ebb, in thermal fusion roaring
Galactic tides warp space divides, call forth sublime creation
while bending clocks in rippled shocks, unfolding time dilation
that seems to crown the flowing gown of pulsars' pulsed gyration
Galactic stew, a seething brew, midst background noise and chatter
like Chaos reigns, the sole remains of missing antimatter,
with just a trace to form a space-time, curved or somewhat flatter
Galactic glue holds something new: dark energy and matter
that interacts and counteracts the ancient Big Bang splatter:
a cosmic soup of strings and loops, a universal batter
Galactic life's replete and rife 'neath lactic milky wafer,
though solar gales leave unseen trails of cosmic rays, the strafer;
but nonetheless, one must confess, it seems there's nowhere safer
Aug 21, 2016
Aug 21, 2016 at 8:54 AM UTC
You whispered your secrets
on breezes of starlight
of moonbeam collections
in night sky desire
Those twinkling phrases
beyond the horizon
which once held the sunset
in blistery fire
Beneath every pine tree
found evergreen wishes
with snow dressing branches
long winters to show
And springtime petunias
bloomed fresh for the season
soft feathery visions
you want me to know
That here as we’re lying
this hillside of splendor
while counting the diamonds
a’ shine up above
Each sunrise of morning
a new days beginning
asleep in my arms is
the dawning of love
Mar 2, 2014
Mar 2, 2014 at 9:19 AM UTC
you make me jittery
restless and blistery
you wrap me up,
warm but bitterly
you are my cup of coffee
Mar 21, 2017
Mar 21, 2017 at 2:49 PM UTC
I feel bad for the Moon who burns my skin
It wasn’t her fault, but rather her lover’s
Skin once milky white -
Now swathed in blistery red
What was once a warm embrace -
Now needles in my veins
That deceiving Sun
Who once kissed my flesh into a blush
Has abandoned me to the agony of nightfall
And here I sway among a sea of grass caked in Summer's tears
Shaking my fist angrily at the Moon
Whose glow neither harms nor heals me -
But reveals her lover's trickery
Feb 19, 2018
Feb 19, 2018 at 12:39 PM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
You’re no Thomas Edison
Kanye take your medicine
That will make you reticent
And hopefully you’ll jettison
Sayin’ slavery was a choice
You’re no modern day Dubois
Why’d you give that notion voice?
You’re just making lots of noise
Black folks got their feelings hurt
Because you made ‘em feel like dirt
Too bad you were not inert
Instead of being so **** curt
Stop saying the first thing in your head
Give some thought to it instead
Then review the things you said
Before you have us seeing red
Why do you pontificate?
Better if you chose to wait
Then to come out and state
Things we’re sure to debate
You’re not adept at history
And that’s no great big mystery
So why do you do this, you see
When the results are blistery
If your thoughts are in a rush
What comes out your mouth is mush
You’d do better just to hush
Than to make black people blush
Though I accept your apology
But you offended more than me
Which may be hard for you to see
Yet contrition is the key
Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2018. All rights reserved.
Aug 30, 2018
Aug 30, 2018 at 11:49 AM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
I’ve been around the bend before
Hung out at the bar to score
I was rotten to the core
But I don’t do that anymore
That was in my past life
Before my kids and wife
Back then you couldn’t tell me
That I was the marrying type
I’ve been a sinner and deceiver
A charlatan now I’m a believer
See I never did conceive her
Comin’ in my life
Never thought she’d be my wife
Given my past and my history
Which was a little blistery
To some I’m still a mystery
And all the girls I’ve kissed ya see
I was rotten to the core
But I don’t do that anymore
That was in my past life
Before my kids and wife
I’ve been a sinner and deceiver
A charlatan now I’m a believer
See I never did conceive her
Comin’ in my life
Never thought she’d be my wife
Lord knows the girl was patient
She waited for my transformation
Though I’d backslide on occasion
She was still my soul’s salvation
It’s amazing that you’d ask
Do I miss my sordid past
Back when I lived too fast
And thought it was a blast
I was rotten to the core
But I don’t do that anymore
That was in my past life
Before my kids and wife
I’ve been a sinner and deceiver
A charlatan now I’m a believer
See I never did conceive her
Comin’ in my life
Never thought she’d be my wife
Cedric McClester, Copyright (c)_2016. All rights reserved.
Feb 29, 2016
Feb 29, 2016 at 5:55 PM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
I often ask myself why
Did Tupac and Biggie havta die?
Or when it comes to either guy
Did the law oƒ karma apply?
Time has long since evolved
And neither ****** has been solved
So no one can be absolved
Of not having been involved
Tupac and Biggie are history
But they’re an ongoing mystery
Though their relationship was blistery
They’re not worthy of a consistory
But many of us still morn
The fact that they both are gone
And though our hearts are torn
We’ve been forced to just move on
Tupac and Biggie were friends
Who came to bitter ends
Both were guilty of their own sins
And they fell like candlepins
They were masters of the rap game
Who one time or another lit the flame
That’s not to say they were the same
But they both achieved their own acclaim
Tupac and Biggie waged a war
The likes of which we’d never seen before
Between the West and East coasts for sure
But one that we couldn’t ignore
Both met tragic ends
When they became erstwhile friends
And battled like shirts and skins
In a contest in which no one side wins
Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2022. All rights reserved.
Jan 13, 2022
Jan 13, 2022 at 7:19 PM UTC
Oh summer where have you gone?
Blistery cold is un-banished
By your amorous flirtations
Rain and cold permeate my being
Causing me to ponder your fickle nature
Your face hidden in feminine fancy
Oh summer I am your true love
Withhold not your charms from me
With one smile
You can banish the gloom forever.
Oct 21, 2009
Oct 21, 2009 at 12:54 AM UTC
It never stops amazing me how much time flies in hindsight,
The future seems so far away, but what's been done is ancient history.
There's just under eight weeks left,
Till the end of my countdown of mystery.
It's so easy to forget how long it's been,
When you're living an endless winter this blistery.
The day is approaching, the new dawn encroaching,
I can't wait to welcome you into my arms...
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 3:14 PM UTC
Loved you like a summer’s day I swim in the sea of tragic thought
If you Simply loved
If you simply cared
why did you need to throw it away
Nothing more for me to do but to see you go
Your hand was in mine and then it turned to dust
My hand was in yours and then it turned to dust
Now
The only thing that touches my hand is my face
Bellowed in agonizing melancholy
The sun refuses to shine, even when so blistery bright
Dec 24, 2010
Dec 24, 2010 at 11:21 AM UTC
Her body is my desire, her thoughts
connected, more than one wire, admire
her feelings, rarely shown. And with lots
of protection, lots of walls and to inspire
every wake moment spend, thinking,
revising what to do, how to act. Mystery,
cryptic, intriguing riddle, almost blistery.
A special case, a pretty face, she expects
but does she accept with whatever complex,
proposal I continue? Nothing however checks.
She must be, kidding, riddling, skating.
As all, freud said, desperate for mating,
doesn't seem, blow off steam, let it go, I can't
enchanted. Challenging, intriguing.
Is this
real?
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 6:17 PM UTC
My arms are empty,
They hold no more,
My hands are aching,
They're cold and sore,
My voice is gone,
It can no longer echo,
And yet, I am happy,
When I do dare seek a glance,
You dare to seek one back,
Locking eyes for only a minute,
No one will suspect,
In my arms I hold books,
They openly mock you,
In my hands I clench fists,
Which, to friends look of discomfort,
And yet, I am happy,
Our lips in unison purse,
They stubbornly hold the wall of silence between us,
But our eyes go against them,
Venturing to speak subtly,
Our hands forever clenched in a blistery white,
Our bodies tense questioning a fight,
And yet, we are happy,
After all, together we are antiques,
Cold, desperate and remembering,
Everything we've said to each other,
How openly we trusted the other with our frailty,
Trust did not protect us,
Every morning we shine the chips on our shoulders,
So the other can plainly see,
What we feel in secret,
The pain inflicted in our brittle skin,
Our eyes scream different,
Insisting to forgive and be forgiven,
And yet, we are happy,
Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 12:03 PM UTC
It is forecast winds cold and blistery
and the leaves have started to blacken
I have to be careful where I trudge
stepping over crisp, dry bracken.
The twigs cling onto their rosy berries
as the wind rushes past uncaring
the scarecrow's face tells it all
the evidence is what he is wearing.
The clouds part giving way to a sky that's purple
dappled here and there with a bit of blue
It rains on scarecrows more often than not
and the buzzard has a bird's eye view.
A cottage portrays windows hot with orange
a roaring fire with apple logs is aglow
Outside the weather is turning one degree under
and the sky has filled with fluffy snow.
The scarecrow winces and shuts his eyes
ready for the blast from the icy white
But the buzzard comforts him in his own way
and reassures him that it will be just one night.
Oct 26, 2015
Oct 26, 2015 at 4:55 AM UTC
Goodbye never felt so sweet
like yellow suns morphing into pink
Man, life is like a beautiful sunset
Or kissing someone you love
During the soft magical creamy light of the dawn
But I know, boy do I know
That sometimes life has those days
Where it seems like all the colors have been drained
From the flowers, from the birds, the grass, the sun
On days when you feel like the blistery night is
Most relatable
When the moon barely shines
When you feel like you tread this world alone
With tears streaming down from your eyes
But those days,
As deep down as they reach
Don't have a long trajectory
It's just, well,
I know that you are really strong
I mean, I know I don't know you
So you're shaking your head right now
And you're like,
**** you ******
With your inspirational ****
I mean, I know
Sometimes I overdo the sentimental
But I've been down in the pit too, okay
And some days I am just literally amazed
That I'm still living, breathing, existing
In this flesh body
I just didn't give up
Well, sometimes I didn't give up simply
Because I was too scared to hurt myself
But
I've learned so much,
I've grown so much
I'm different now
And I'm not sure if I'm happy about that or not
Or just, well, indifferent
But I am happy to be alive
I guess I'm just more spiritual now
I really liked Taoism when I learned about it
In summer school for ninth grade history
You just go with the flow
And see where life takes you
No journeys,
No destinations
You just lay back
And enjoy
Disconnect from the ratrace
Living from a place of infinite grace.
Jun 6, 2018
Jun 6, 2018 at 4:56 PM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
We know where the bones are buried
Of all of the deceased
Killed in wars and other carnage
Now that they rest in peace
No good deed will go unpunished
This we know for sure
Karmas always finds a way
Of evening up the score
We know where the bones are buried
Just beneath the surface
So the question we must ask ourselves
Is do our lives have purpose
We don’t care about the planet
That sustains our lives
We take from it like we're bandits
Until the day arrives
When the bill is tabulated
And not one of us survives
Not our sons and daughters
Or our precious pretty wives
We know where the bones are buried
Just beneath the surface
So the question we must ask ourselves
Is do our lives have purpose
Every problem has a solution
From all that I’ve been told
If we dig a little deeper
The answers will unfold
We have only ourselves to blame
For the bloodletting we see
Examine how we’ve lived our lives
And it’s no mystery
That there’s turmoil and confusion
Check out our history
And just to put it succinctly
It’s been quite blistery
We know where the bones are buried
Just beneath the surface
So the question we must ask ourselves
Is do our lives have purpose
We know where the bones are buried
Of all of the deceased
Killed in wars and other carnage
Now that they rest in peace
No good deed will go unpunished
This we know for sure
Karmas always finds a way
Of evening up the score
(c) Copyright 2015, Cedric McClester. All rights reserved.
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 2:26 PM UTC
There is a way out east,
like no other,
where the trees curl up with a cloudy blanket
over the, endless waterfall of tar and gravel,
and parallel lines clearly converge
but, where is so unclear.
We don’t eat people on the road, Oh friend of
restless career searching and creating,
rather, the space between what is right and wrong
is traveled.
Traveled with cars
Traveled with blistery sun feet
Traveled with lonely wait hearts, and dreary friends
that change, warp, and fuel some new premise
Traveled with testing motor bikes, and soft tires
Traveled by bridges, and communist toll gates
Traveled by homeless men who live, breath, and eat in boxes all day,
and never see the second light.
It’s not clockwork.
we’ve taped over ever turning menace, and stopped all the
discriminating gears from turning in the night
where hopeless humans rust away in the clanking of all hours.
Stop,
and perk your ears friends, if it is the turning you wish
listen to the movement of the earth,
and the heartbeat of the trees,
extract wisdom from the hills we like to blast through,
and certainly climb on the rocks as you do.
Listen to the contact of beer mugs
while you drink in all the stories of travelers
your friends.
Listen to the droned out motors of the many happenings of the highway
and know you are not alone.
But, to be alone,
oh, to be alone:
it’s a gift in a way.
But, eventually, all people need an activity close to that
of eating one another,
where we can dine with droogs, and experienced veterans,
kiss soft-toothed girls in the light of a hometown moon,
and pray for glass-faced news.
This huge, supersized, magnetized, kind-loving world
keeps turning:
by sphere, by map, by heart
I swear to you, travel the distance between
all things right and wrong.
Mar 19, 2014
Mar 19, 2014 at 9:29 PM UTC
Tired winded soul passing through,
Feeling safe, feeling content, even when head was at brew
Percussions get judged, no matter the sentiment
Feeling different, feeling lost, even when heart feels at tenement
Music bleeding from one voice to another
Being brave for things you cannot control, what you can smother
Seeing the change, seeing the destruction never feels tamed
But every single second of negativity was just you being framed
Walking around like you are full of mystery
Clenching down of the lust for courage that time has made blistery
Fighting the temptation of going fully dark
But waking up everyday just to breathe, just was not a special spark
Jul 26, 2019
Jul 26, 2019 at 8:35 PM UTC
The allure skies began to tremble
Before the horrible Bomb Dome
Beirut weared a wide black mantle
With moaning wounds in each home
As pigeons of peace died at duty
Beirut my ravishing moribund city
Revered for its destroyed beauty
The sky quivered in bustling pity
Ah, August 4 engraved in history
With mushroom clouds of doom
A massacre a monstrous blistery
Staining blood agony in every room
Steeling from many the innocent life
Yet the rest narrowly escaping death
Are actually dead suffering being alive
Are sorrowly alive in a poisoned breath
Victims chewed by the evil fallout
The epitaph can not return any life
Children cowered with a heavy shout
Hearts cringed as stabbed by knife
So many politicians and scientists
Enslaved to produce a conclusion
We do not need to see their tests
Their deterrence and bribed delusion
Anyone who made lives end
Is Satan, a monster, a real devil...
Nations say weapons are to defend
No! They only permeat their evil
∴ Lyna Salman
Aug 6, 2020
Aug 6, 2020 at 8:03 PM UTC
Another poem spent on the same person
And another guilty glance of how you’re doing, where you’ve been
I can’t escape the white-knuckled grasp
That the reminders of our clandestine kisses
Hold over my memory
In defiance of my most miserable efforts
To rid my heart of your presence
Unmatched by any other human, for better or for worse
Better off I am without you
But better off I am having known your gaze
Having received your touch, second only to words
Of beauty, like birds dominating the breeze
Or the ripples of a vast blue lake
Undisturbed by the misgivings and mistakes of the world
Worldly matters so insignificant within a moment of love
That ignites the atmosphere into passionate glory
Permeating the surface of any passersby
I pass by your house on strolls through lanes of reminiscence
And I slip in through the open door
Just to step into the place I once belonged
In sorrowful attempts to relive what has already faded
Ashes to ashes, infatuation to gnawing pain
Blistery, aching, criminal pain that refuses to leave
As long as I live, both my pleasure and strife will remain
From a body and mind so young
Tainted by you, but in the most delicious way
Salivating mouths will never fail to feed
Upon what is placed before them
Thus I will always indulge
On my addictive memories of you
Mar 21, 2021
Mar 21, 2021 at 6:19 PM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
Vlad “The Destroyer
Is wreaking havoc
On Ukraine’s foyer
As a bomb and missle
Deployer
And an international
Annoyer
And a grave digger’s employer
Vlad “The Destroyer”
Couldn’t be coyer
Than an unemployed lawyer
Who’s labeled a ******
And a force majeurer
In an unnecessary war
Of his own undertaking
And his own making
Vlad “The Destroyer’s”
Inhumanity and insanity
is there for all to see
And what’s also key
Is no mystery
Cos it doesn’t have to be
Shaping modern history
That’s gotten blistery
Vlad “The Destroyer”
I’ll always insists
Has to be
Some kind of narcissist
So as he evaporates
Into the mist
Guess whos ***
He can kiss?
Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2022. All rights reserved.
Apr 5, 2022
Apr 5, 2022 at 6:31 PM UTC