"cannibalized" poems - Hello Poetry

I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of but I can't be tied to those forever so people forgive and forget I try to forget but still feel bad and I know there are still sore subjects that I should be sensitive about. Scrolling through Reddit I see a post of Māori students at an airport greeting their returning teacher with a traditional Māori war dance which was an admittedly sweet gesture but something didn't sit right with me. I wondered why the students greeting their teacher had to do so through a display of militaristic nationalism I wondered if that was the last dance the Moriori people saw before the Māori genocided them for their resources I wondered if the Māori danced like that as they ***** murdered, and cannibalized the Moriori. Wondering all of this made me ask myself: Why did they have to greet their teacher like that? The students wanted to make a big gesture which dancing is perfect for but dancing can also be vulnerable and embarrassing because people may mock how you express yourself but strangers at the airport are less likely to laugh at you if you're doing a synchronized dance with a group of people and the dancing is recognizably tied to national identity because then it's a culturally rich dance you're a xenophobe for laughing at and that's what nationalism is: strength in numbers and a readymade identity in lieu of an individual personality oftentimes for the sake of pistanthrophobia. So as I read the circlejerking comments on the post I wondered what the difference is between a Māori war dance and a **** salute I guess the Māori people have experienced more oppression than Nazis but nationalism is nationalism and those who have oppressed are oppressors and many who are oppressed would gladly be oppressors given the chance. Nationalism isn't healthy for culture and often isolates people from other cultures that are all combining due to globalization which people fight to preserve their little dances and costumes so we can stay in eternal conflict over delusions of supremacy when the only nationality should be a global one.

0

Aug 28, 2022

Aug 28, 2022 at 8:41 PM UTC

andrew-rueter

Nationalism

I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of but I can't be tied to those forever so people forgive and forget I try to forget but still feel bad and I know there are still sore subjects that I should be sensitive about. Scrolling through Reddit I see a post of Māori students at an airport greeting their returning teacher with a traditional Māori war dance which was an admittedly sweet gesture but something didn't sit right with me. I wondered why the students greeting their teacher had to do so through a display of militaristic nationalism I wondered if that was the last dance the Moriori people saw before the Māori genocided them for their resources I wondered if the Māori danced like that as they ***** murdered, and cannibalized the Moriori. Wondering all of this made me ask myself: Why did they have to greet their teacher like that? The students wanted to make a big gesture which dancing is perfect for but dancing can also be vulnerable and embarrassing because people may mock how you express yourself but strangers at the airport are less likely to laugh at you if you're doing a synchronized dance with a group of people and the dancing is recognizably tied to national identity because then it's a culturally rich dance you're a xenophobe for laughing at and that's what nationalism is: strength in numbers and a readymade identity in lieu of an individual personality oftentimes for the sake of pistanthrophobia. So as I read the circlejerking comments on the post I wondered what the difference is between a Māori war dance and a **** salute I guess the Māori people have experienced more oppression than Nazis but nationalism is nationalism and those who have oppressed are oppressors and many who are oppressed would gladly be oppressors given the chance. Nationalism isn't healthy for culture and often isolates people from other cultures that are all combining due to globalization which people fight to preserve their little dances and costumes so we can stay in eternal conflict over delusions of supremacy when the only nationality should be a global one.

48

The jester is weeping - locked in the bathroom, not coming out the jester is weeping like a girl stag on prom night each fetal rock accompanied by a jingle of bells he painted a picture of perfect only to find the paint dry the ugly makeup is running down his face and his suit is tattered with grit a clown is a last straw to clutch when the world is burning “yeah, but at least it’s funny” his drink spilling down his chin watch as he makes a balloon noose so the children can play hangman with his wavering decisions his pants are full of candy call it a painata you can laugh and laugh and laugh until it all sounds like wailing the jester, weeping like the fool he plays the crown’s court pleased with their pet obnoxious explosions of ignorant, blissful cackles the jester is tired he has to go to sleep now and the once they lose the laughter they will see the brutal realities they will be cannibalized by their fear God, save the Jester he’s all we’ve got

0

Mar 15, 2014

Mar 15, 2014 at 9:56 PM UTC

harry-j-baxter

God Save the Jester

The jester is weeping - locked in the bathroom, not coming out the jester is weeping like a girl stag on prom night each fetal rock accompanied by a jingle of bells he painted a picture of perfect only to find the paint dry the ugly makeup is running down his face and his suit is tattered with grit a clown is a last straw to clutch when the world is burning “yeah, but at least it’s funny” his drink spilling down his chin watch as he makes a balloon noose so the children can play hangman with his wavering decisions his pants are full of candy call it a painata you can laugh and laugh and laugh until it all sounds like wailing the jester, weeping like the fool he plays the crown’s court pleased with their pet obnoxious explosions of ignorant, blissful cackles the jester is tired he has to go to sleep now and the once they lose the laughter they will see the brutal realities they will be cannibalized by their fear God, save the Jester he’s all we’ve got

25

Thoughts escape through cracks and crevices of the swelling gray matter. Each breath forcefully exhaled through thinly parted lips pushes the unfinished coliseum constructed of heavy stones, weighted with unsure purpose, out into the previously unoccupied space before me. Each exhalation creates small beings composed of struggle that march mechanically into the arena. Ready to throw their lives on the line to fight for recognition. As these thoughts battle one another, one falls after the next. Once the battles between these thoughts has finished, and the coliseum is filled with dreams and ideas that will never find themselves fully recognized, only one stands victorious. Though battered and broken from the ****** battles it has fought, selflessness has conquered any that would seek to oppose it. It inhales the dire wounds caused to the others, and they stand before the crumpled mass that saved everything they fought so hard to achieve through personal sacrifice. Not knowing the events that occurred, they cannibalized selflessness to sate their primitive greed. Now a small portion of him exists within every ideal that escapes through pursed lips from the fields of grey matter where they were conceived. Through this process the idea of love was given life, and it will forever seek that selflessness that gave birth to it.

0

Oct 14, 2012

Oct 14, 2012 at 12:49 AM UTC

omnis-atrum

Thoughts weighing heavy...

Thoughts escape through cracks and crevices of the swelling gray matter. Each breath forcefully exhaled through thinly parted lips pushes the unfinished coliseum constructed of heavy stones, weighted with unsure purpose, out into the previously unoccupied space before me. Each exhalation creates small beings composed of struggle that march mechanically into the arena. Ready to throw their lives on the line to fight for recognition. As these thoughts battle one another, one falls after the next. Once the battles between these thoughts has finished, and the coliseum is filled with dreams and ideas that will never find themselves fully recognized, only one stands victorious. Though battered and broken from the ****** battles it has fought, selflessness has conquered any that would seek to oppose it. It inhales the dire wounds caused to the others, and they stand before the crumpled mass that saved everything they fought so hard to achieve through personal sacrifice. Not knowing the events that occurred, they cannibalized selflessness to sate their primitive greed. Now a small portion of him exists within every ideal that escapes through pursed lips from the fields of grey matter where they were conceived. Through this process the idea of love was given life, and it will forever seek that selflessness that gave birth to it.

1

My worst fear realized Beyond scared & paralyzed the moment I recognized the signs in the fading eyes of a lover as she re-lives the lies & cries herself to sleep with sorrowful lullabies Ones only heard by the clouds and the stars they pass by in the night skies The ones just as lonely and as distant as a sunrise on the moons romanticized dark sides mingling with the anticipated replies to the backlog of "why's" that don't even bother with fly-bys Somewhere out past where hope dies Where both love and hate are lobotomized then cannibalized even weaponized for passion triggered crimes leaving no one surprised Where the only allies one finds arrive in disguise as the best of times as the worst of times building up to a multitude of inevitable good-byes How was I to vocalize a mess of this size when I don't have the ability to visualize even loosing such a prize... ©2024

0

Feb 21, 2024

Feb 21, 2024 at 12:06 AM UTC

bettsjc187

~•§•~ I Can't Bare to Look Into Your Eyes at Times ~•§•~

My worst fear realized Beyond scared & paralyzed the moment I recognized the signs in the fading eyes of a lover as she re-lives the lies & cries herself to sleep with sorrowful lullabies Ones only heard by the clouds and the stars they pass by in the night skies The ones just as lonely and as distant as a sunrise on the moons romanticized dark sides mingling with the anticipated replies to the backlog of "why's" that don't even bother with fly-bys Somewhere out past where hope dies Where both love and hate are lobotomized then cannibalized even weaponized for passion triggered crimes leaving no one surprised Where the only allies one finds arrive in disguise as the best of times as the worst of times building up to a multitude of inevitable good-byes How was I to vocalize a mess of this size when I don't have the ability to visualize even loosing such a prize... ©2024

27

Beneath blackened earth, where majestic death gave birth.. Lies Sir Roderick so very still. Claire wanders and wonders if there is something more, beyond life she can explore... In a tome of darkened lore answers were cast at the question. If only a mild suggestion of necromantic, a spell. To take back a soul from hell.... Claire descends in Roderick's tomb. They will be united soon.. Indeed it is a graverobber's plight, to take care of such a wondrous sight. Little Claire did not care, as she played with raven hair. Words dripped from her lips, as she read from the bloodied tome.. The atmosphere drenched in a shivering tone.. going through marrow and cutting through bone. Lay still your beating heart, let flow your sea of life.. Come back from Death and love thine wife.. A sacrifice with children's blood she gave Roderick now ascends from his mouldy grave. His flesh looks putrid and vile.. Dilly, dally the maggots wriggle Claire comforts with a single giggle. Now they dance, hand in hand. They kiss in brittle moonlight his tongue like broken glass, such delight. So full of joy was Claire, as Roderick was festering in his chair. Claire did not care, playing with raven hair. Roderick still festering, festering in his chair. Then she nodded, nearly napping, one last spell inside her head. Command Sir Roderick to share her bed. Little Claire was nowhere to be found... Chewing, drooling, smacking.... Followed by a clamour and loud cracking. Lay upon the bed, Sir Roderick and Claire. Sir Roderick did not care, playing with her raven hair. Loathsome Claire was united no more.. Her cannibalized remains decorated the floor.

0

Apr 7, 2015

Apr 7, 2015 at 8:44 PM UTC

StygianAbyss

(Nec)Romantic

Beneath blackened earth, where majestic death gave birth.. Lies Sir Roderick so very still. Claire wanders and wonders if there is something more, beyond life she can explore... In a tome of darkened lore answers were cast at the question. If only a mild suggestion of necromantic, a spell. To take back a soul from hell.... Claire descends in Roderick's tomb. They will be united soon.. Indeed it is a graverobber's plight, to take care of such a wondrous sight. Little Claire did not care, as she played with raven hair. Words dripped from her lips, as she read from the bloodied tome.. The atmosphere drenched in a shivering tone.. going through marrow and cutting through bone. Lay still your beating heart, let flow your sea of life.. Come back from Death and love thine wife.. A sacrifice with children's blood she gave Roderick now ascends from his mouldy grave. His flesh looks putrid and vile.. Dilly, dally the maggots wriggle Claire comforts with a single giggle. Now they dance, hand in hand. They kiss in brittle moonlight his tongue like broken glass, such delight. So full of joy was Claire, as Roderick was festering in his chair. Claire did not care, playing with raven hair. Roderick still festering, festering in his chair. Then she nodded, nearly napping, one last spell inside her head. Command Sir Roderick to share her bed. Little Claire was nowhere to be found... Chewing, drooling, smacking.... Followed by a clamour and loud cracking. Lay upon the bed, Sir Roderick and Claire. Sir Roderick did not care, playing with her raven hair. Loathsome Claire was united no more.. Her cannibalized remains decorated the floor.

39

Emptiness is a relative being It sits within each *A ******* child born of perception* And floats around somewhere in mocking silence Between void and avoid Emptiness cannot be labeled You can not put a name On cannibalized shells But place a light on the inside And give darkness life And emptiness can no longer scream

0

Jun 17, 2014

Jun 17, 2014 at 6:54 AM UTC

amaranthine

Empty

Emptiness is a relative being It sits within each *A ******* child born of perception* And floats around somewhere in mocking silence Between void and avoid Emptiness cannot be labeled You can not put a name On cannibalized shells But place a light on the inside And give darkness life And emptiness can no longer scream

11

Look to the gloom, yielding no depth of distance, only pinpoints of light blaring the selfish madness of man and beast alike. Look to oval eyed Saturn, and notice not the opalescent crenulation of teeth, or the rigid celestial body inflated and bloated- floating in the absence of fettered air; all that is important is the lifeless bodies cannibalized and invariably stuck in an endless orbit of the greedy giant.

0

Nov 10, 2011

Nov 10, 2011 at 6:58 PM UTC

B_Lid

Devouring His Son

Look to the gloom, yielding no depth of distance, only pinpoints of light blaring the selfish madness of man and beast alike. Look to oval eyed Saturn, and notice not the opalescent crenulation of teeth, or the rigid celestial body inflated and bloated- floating in the absence of fettered air; all that is important is the lifeless bodies cannibalized and invariably stuck in an endless orbit of the greedy giant.

16

It's in the air, that kind of art the rant hour - khaki shorts come to roost, sour dips for jibes, venerable turns up the Oak: and lo, from Mecca to Dacca, it's raining theories conspiracies, of how in the days of yore even the golden birds's poo smelt pure; It's all our deed from the Saucer to the Sky; Heil Leader! Now lathis to the rescue then long speeches and many grins - (x)ollywood the much hated, whose songs cannibalized; It's chai samosa time, it's pakora time, Bermuda triangle time.

0

Oct 26, 2017

Oct 26, 2017 at 5:24 PM UTC

prabhu-iyer

Samosaheads

It's in the air, that kind of art the rant hour - khaki shorts come to roost, sour dips for jibes, venerable turns up the Oak: and lo, from Mecca to Dacca, it's raining theories conspiracies, of how in the days of yore even the golden birds's poo smelt pure; It's all our deed from the Saucer to the Sky; Heil Leader! Now lathis to the rescue then long speeches and many grins - (x)ollywood the much hated, whose songs cannibalized; It's chai samosa time, it's pakora time, Bermuda triangle time.

22

I’ve sat within that crowded room. Elbows, like the knobbed tree branches of a forest, sway with mirth and freedom. Yet, my heart lost its fire long before. And as I sat, I sighed the rousing air of the room with carouseling dancers, and felt that no one was there; not even myself. There are many things that solitude can inspire. We desire what we can only hope to have again. Yet, how lucky am I? I dream of things I’ve never known. I see her hug his hip to her hip, whisper in his ear... What did she whisper? He will tell one dear friend, and that friend, will feel what I feel – a burst of elation, a drop of envy – a deadly cocktail. And that friend will go on and wonder, “What if she were mine...” And I know because I was that friend who tasted her in his words. And dreamed. I dreamed until the dreaming kept me awake until the dream cannibalized other dreams until the dream put visions of her in the clouds until the dreams, dreams, shattered-my-soul! I was the one who told my friend about her. I crafted her beauty and charm with such power to disarm, using my silken language, and he tasted her essence in my words. So, now I sit here. I sit here in this room filled with carouseling couples. I can only sigh, as I watch her dance.

0

Jun 1, 2017

Jun 1, 2017 at 11:19 PM UTC

DEW

Beatnik Turntable...

I’ve sat within that crowded room. Elbows, like the knobbed tree branches of a forest, sway with mirth and freedom. Yet, my heart lost its fire long before. And as I sat, I sighed the rousing air of the room with carouseling dancers, and felt that no one was there; not even myself. There are many things that solitude can inspire. We desire what we can only hope to have again. Yet, how lucky am I? I dream of things I’ve never known. I see her hug his hip to her hip, whisper in his ear... What did she whisper? He will tell one dear friend, and that friend, will feel what I feel – a burst of elation, a drop of envy – a deadly cocktail. And that friend will go on and wonder, “What if she were mine...” And I know because I was that friend who tasted her in his words. And dreamed. I dreamed until the dreaming kept me awake until the dream cannibalized other dreams until the dream put visions of her in the clouds until the dreams, dreams, shattered-my-soul! I was the one who told my friend about her. I crafted her beauty and charm with such power to disarm, using my silken language, and he tasted her essence in my words. So, now I sit here. I sit here in this room filled with carouseling couples. I can only sigh, as I watch her dance.

28

Always the intermission waiting...... buying juju beans standing on red carpet Forever an after thought the heart cannibalized some fava beans and a nice Chianti with that? Drink up sweet decadence..... ~M

0

Sep 13, 2012

Sep 13, 2012 at 8:11 PM UTC

michele-m

Always the intermission

Always the intermission waiting...... buying juju beans standing on red carpet Forever an after thought the heart cannibalized some fava beans and a nice Chianti with that? Drink up sweet decadence..... ~M

7

The moonlight stretches over my madness the deep blue of the sky with its twinkling scars mirroring the shrapnel of marring marks along my soul alone....like a soundless echo bouncing around the canyons how could it escape me, why is everything awry drowning in the spirals of intense light such a vindictive prison, entrapping the body in the nightmares life has become a shredded hope pulled away like warm covers in the morning why is it that im in a labyrinth...yet with no way out sand has gone thru my fingers into the next player's hands now without control i fly wild as chaos on the wing no motives, no wants only one prickling need that can never be met such betrayal leaves so many questions...all in a chorus of why let this night be over so i may return change and morph once again trying to fit the mold that was given yet will it ever fit? too small this world that im pulled into on eggshells i tiptoe with needles piercing my skin how do i escape such a vicious night the dark inhumanity with its bloodlust is after me in this cannibalized society

0

Aug 23, 2011

Aug 23, 2011 at 6:22 PM UTC

emily-wiemann

untitled2

The moonlight stretches over my madness the deep blue of the sky with its twinkling scars mirroring the shrapnel of marring marks along my soul alone....like a soundless echo bouncing around the canyons how could it escape me, why is everything awry drowning in the spirals of intense light such a vindictive prison, entrapping the body in the nightmares life has become a shredded hope pulled away like warm covers in the morning why is it that im in a labyrinth...yet with no way out sand has gone thru my fingers into the next player's hands now without control i fly wild as chaos on the wing no motives, no wants only one prickling need that can never be met such betrayal leaves so many questions...all in a chorus of why let this night be over so i may return change and morph once again trying to fit the mold that was given yet will it ever fit? too small this world that im pulled into on eggshells i tiptoe with needles piercing my skin how do i escape such a vicious night the dark inhumanity with its bloodlust is after me in this cannibalized society

22

I have no tongue left to bite A gruesome sight It's been cannibalized From accepting your lies That hit a raw nerve "That's what I deserve" You know that's on my mind Hit with my own issues on the side that's blind You take advantage of my choice Willfully giving up my voice But now this one sided desire You set on fire And blame it on me Because it's so... Friggin'... Easy ©2024

0

Sep 27, 2024

Sep 27, 2024 at 2:24 AM UTC

bettsjc187

~•§•~ A Bitten Tongue ~•§•~

I have no tongue left to bite A gruesome sight It's been cannibalized From accepting your lies That hit a raw nerve "That's what I deserve" You know that's on my mind Hit with my own issues on the side that's blind You take advantage of my choice Willfully giving up my voice But now this one sided desire You set on fire And blame it on me Because it's so... Friggin'... Easy ©2024

17

first: Memories of my funny friend linger like a faded folded photograph browned, bent, and battered by time and time zones abounding but even that origami polaroid doesn't exist cause my friend says it's probably haram to take pics then: I re-live it as if you moved away just yesterday but I gotta admit your heart moved away yesteryear or 2 or 3. deserted me here with not even a single stinkin' crumpled picture of our rumpled relationship capsized and cannibalized by re-repeatedly over-granting over here, and you over there re-repeatedly over-taking taking me for granted next: How much of me have you forgotten...? ever since you moved across the nation, with no notion nor appreciation for the fact that unlike the Nile communication ought to flow both ways now: But I still miss our tangential exchanges I'm nostalgic for former years, dancing wild your ad hoc turbans and button nose So I open up the app and I ransack google photos: seasons and ages of pictures, snaps, But there are no pictures of you in here Just like in my life, I can't find you nowhere.

0

Jan 28, 2021

Jan 28, 2021 at 3:17 AM UTC

PeacockSecrets

My Funny Friend

first: Memories of my funny friend linger like a faded folded photograph browned, bent, and battered by time and time zones abounding but even that origami polaroid doesn't exist cause my friend says it's probably haram to take pics then: I re-live it as if you moved away just yesterday but I gotta admit your heart moved away yesteryear or 2 or 3. deserted me here with not even a single stinkin' crumpled picture of our rumpled relationship capsized and cannibalized by re-repeatedly over-granting over here, and you over there re-repeatedly over-taking taking me for granted next: How much of me have you forgotten...? ever since you moved across the nation, with no notion nor appreciation for the fact that unlike the Nile communication ought to flow both ways now: But I still miss our tangential exchanges I'm nostalgic for former years, dancing wild your ad hoc turbans and button nose So I open up the app and I ransack google photos: seasons and ages of pictures, snaps, But there are no pictures of you in here Just like in my life, I can't find you nowhere.

32