"contentious" poems
Love is a blind *****
And a wicked witch.
She's like a bill collector
And a heartbreaker.
Love is a light
Sometimes she's bright,
Sometimes she's dangerous
And very mysterious.
Love is contentious
Like a strange virus,
She kills at times
At times, she saves.
What's this phenomenon
That moves like the moon?
Love eludes some people
And for her, some will struggle.
To some, she's a white dove
Sent for them from above.
To those not lucky like us,
Love is just like a bad curse.
Love is the bedrock of life
Yet she hurts like a knife.
To few, she works like a lawn mower
And too few she's a lawn blower.
Love to some is like a quick shower
In no time it's all over.
The mystery of love
Is the tale of the black dove.
Love's seed was planted in Heaven
And blossomed in the garden of Eden
A long time ago on this earth,
It was the caveat for Romeo's death.
#IvanBrooksPoetry©
7/22/2018
Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 8:03 PM UTC
Your contentious,
Ditzy,
Air-Headed,
Very sui generis,
You are my best friend.
Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 2:36 AM UTC
There's a contentious subsection
Of the homosexual community
That go in a different direction
Hoping to find social immunity
The word masculine
Is the mask they're in
To live life saccharine
Wearing a plastic grin
From the sensation
Of over-compensation
Actuating placation
To differentiate
From the effeminate
They say they're separate
But really they're just desperate
To be accepted
By their own dejectors
To not be rejected
They become defectors
To avoid ridicule
They stack their deck with nothing but physicality
Their mind minuscule
The albatross on their neck is a lack of personality
To please those that compare them to **********
Internalizing their homophobia
An infernal mighty cornucopia
Creating an over abundance of rules
One must follow to be a proper male
But we should jump out of the pool
If being miserable is what that entails
The more genuine version we see
The happier we all should be
Then we might all be free
But if I were to show glee
Someone might call me a ******
And I don't think I could hack it
When the rest of society backs it
With an approval that is tacit
So I convince myself I'm avoiding identity politics
Using total discretion
To make no impression
But my friends and family would know that's not what I'm doing
So why not tell them?
I haw and I hem
Because the underlying ghostly shame
Is the true nature of this social game
When you have the fame of the flame
You're told to get in a lane of the same
Erase my ******* sin
With the title masculine
There are practical reasons to hide it
But how much time will be bided?
Will my life be derided
Until the evil are delighted?
Jul 16, 2018
Jul 16, 2018 at 12:58 AM UTC
I’m the excommunicated extra extraditing
your excess excrement, extricating specimens
of your essence getting especially excited
call me the exorcist enlightened,
a devil exercising a frightening
double existence.
Conscious constant resistance
from a heavy conscience that lives in
the conscientious angel hidden
deep within a very contentious prison of flesh
fresh from living a half-life, given a dark light,
splitting apart like I’m shining through a prism.
Divine intuition combined with true sinning.
Pinning down angelic powers devoured in hellish prowess,
Tyler’s now a super-villain.
I’m my own double, troubled my other
call me Jorge Dostoevsky a symbiotic brother.
Mar 31, 2013
Mar 31, 2013 at 5:34 AM UTC
they want me to be serious, to take it seriously. To look at sunrises calmly and seize coals and watch over red-blooded, man-fueled wars about bravado, integrity, and land. To look at money, a simple representation of labor, and see what it drives other to do, to do for me.
to crush cigarettes and testicles under my boots,
to crawl through mud and barbed wire, smiling
with grit in my grimace
salt rolling, sweaty brows
twisted locks of dark hair
tobacco-brown spit, ground
and filthy, caked in mud
teeth bared like an animal
white eyeteeth crunching
**Scorching earth where my feet touch down.
A cigarette put out on a tongue. No more talking.**
They want me to see and that, in the dark of the night, in the light of the day, when the sun rises and sets, there is pain, always, elsewhere and everywhere. So I will not tarry or joke or be frivolous with the battered souls of others and to think, to think about applying anything I know, to run along with the vigorous social constructs they ask me to dissect and then revolutionize, because I am young, and I will sprint faster, against accusations, and only briefly.
They want me to look at the world like a runner looks at the red track,
with their toes and sinews coiled as hard as steel, a pinnacle of human
at the height of athleticism and possess the ruthlessness of a rabid dog
drool rushed into foam and mad from dehydrating, my brain swelling
with my hormone driven
red, hazy, athletic rage,
gunning my ambition
for some organization.
No.
I will fight, yes, but I will not fight for a name on a card, shield, or building.
I will fight for the sake of fighting because I am contentious and I am wrong.
I side against hero and villain, because I am the ambiguity,
that languishes, resides in no-man's land, antagonizing both.
Being disliked in purgatory is sometimes more easy than chomping at the bit,
for blood and the power of cracking a black bull whip, so I can avoid this terrible avarice and corrupting beauty that comes with working hard, especially for the greatness
that I did not ask
to be ****** upon me, while I wished to remain enigmatic.
Jun 4, 2013
Jun 4, 2013 at 4:33 PM UTC
a coin harlot he showers the day
with his turn of phrase that would sell
a sunken city to a floating fat man
the floating man
isnt really fat
but he belives himself to be
after all they wouldnt lie on tv would they
so he spends his lackluster days
become a deeper shade of golden tan and thinner by
shouting phrases of strangers arguments at
the passing clouds
nawing on the bone of contentious verbal meat
he floats in a life peserver
from the Lusitania
and its well peserved sanitys sealed in a jar
which he grips with a fevered hand they
are both his bane and plastic fantastic lover doll
all rolled into one evil mocking grin rubber ducky smelling henchwoman
she languishes in her sand and shell embrace of her lips
her rubber ducky superglue scent
is her own chinese man trap
after all dosnt every man secretly desire a love affair with
his rubber duck
they wouldnt lie about that on tv now would they
course not, dont be silly
i wait for first my ride home
but failing that
i will swim
goodnight and sleep tight
least you find yourself a rubber ducky
you can f@%ky
Jul 1, 2013
Jul 1, 2013 at 7:42 PM UTC
Gaze at me, with you ever-so-slight smudged lipstick
Pop-punk lyrics issuing from your perfect mouth
Dark circles from the khôl and folly
Forgiveness from your youth
Torsion of perfection into a wry smile
Sober, you say, drunk, who'll walk upon my style?
Who'll dare? I dare, in laying bare, ballet hands,
The contents of my ***** You know, friends,
I may be an actress, and pretentious,
But my ability to lie's contentious.
Feb 16, 2023
Feb 16, 2023 at 6:44 AM 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
surprise surprise I read between the lines,
gobbling up the bread crumbs youse guys leave in;
yours and hers in the edible empty spaces and
hints and clues from other lines from other places
grew up in a family of storytellers, historians and book writers:
we did not play Scrabble in my house; was too contentious,
and besides, someone excelled in literary obscura and
Ancient Poets,
which made it most unfaira
instead we read the dictionary for fun and
broke into the unlocked local library at night,
were called The Borrowers in our little town,
I think affectionately
The FBI employed my momma,
the Original Literary Profiler,
cause she could see the signature of the same writer,
no matter how many names or disguises he tried,
in everything they had written
the skill was transferred genetically,
which is visible in all my escapades poetically:
I live here under many names so superciliously,
but I never have yet, fooled myself^
Nov 29, 2017
Nov 29, 2017 at 1:26 PM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
Variety they say
Is the spice of life
Society presumes
To know what you like
But rarely do I find
That they get it right
They don’t know the difference
Between day and night
Haven’t you heard
Opposites attract
The issue never is
About white or black
And while I’m at it
Here’s another fact
Everything depends
On how they act
I’m just telling you
Where it’s at
What I eat
Won’t get you fat
So don’t be concerned
About what I do
Or who I do it with
As long as it’s not you
Haven’t you heard
Opposites attract
The issue never was
About white or black
And while I’m at it
Here’s another fact
Everything depends
On how they act
Listen carefully
Here’s the lesson
It’s no concern of yours
As long as it’s my preference
I’m not looking for your approval
Or your reference
And this is being said
With all due deference
Live and let live
Is the way I see it
And I don’t need a soap box
To decree it
I just need to be left alone
Free of all judgment
Cuz I’m in a zone
And I don’t want to detect
A contentious bone
Haven’t you heard
Opposites attract
The issue never was
About white or black
And while I’m at it
Here’s another fact
Everything depends
On how they act
Cedric McClester, Copyright (c) 2016. All rights reserved.
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 11:21 PM UTC
oh i am
afflicted
by the poison of humanity
a prisoner of vanity
rapt in her
deceit
oh i am
addicted
to the lure of futility
seizing shadows of the fleeting
trapped upon
repeat
oh i am
convicted
in the blazes of my treachery
contentious human nature
will not admit
defeat
May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 5:42 AM UTC
Accursed is
the 1:45
outbound express
long distinguished
for its
contentious couples
vomiting babies
drunks marinating
in *****
and miraculous
near misses with
cars careening
around curves in the
no passing lane
Oct 2, 2012
Oct 2, 2012 at 4:46 PM UTC
Cowering, we hide our faces behind capes
Salvage what we possess:
The beginnings of a yawn
Could such an unsuspecting time of year fool a person into feeling more at ease?
Treasured memories are trifles
Chewing away at our eardrums
Pricking our ears with that contentious voice
Impertinent to life
Toward starvation, the fallow, snow covered hills and untenable shacks
Sway
That which has been taken will never be returned
Nothing we can do will save our remains from being stolen by the earth
Dusty bones will dry the Summer sun as wild dogs chew at our flesh
He sits there now, knees toward bare chest
Edging near the frozen water canal
Release
A short, cautionary, nearly hopeful sigh
Jan 21, 2011
Jan 21, 2011 at 8:53 AM UTC
Such a misfortune on your behalf,
trading lovers on a night like that.
If we could manipulate the time
would you take it right back?
Memories and mishaps
what should we make more of?
Insomnia in its prime
is what's eating at the core of
my soul.
A contentious invasion,
some might call it the perfect persuasion.
Dismantle my mind;
salvage what's left for another occasion.
Mar 2, 2011
Mar 2, 2011 at 1:26 PM UTC
Written July 7, 2015
"10:30 the girl wakes up
11:00 the girl eats breakfast. She's contentious of what she eats for she doesn't want to upset you
Noon, she begins to clean, for she wants her interior to exploit a sense of cleanliness and organization, she does not want you to think low of her
12:30 she begins to hold a iron to her hair, puts on her black eyeliner and begins to shade in all her imperfections
She picks out matching underwear and bra to impress you
She puts on those long socks you like hoping you'll see deeper into the satisfaction she will bestow on you and for you to see deeper into her soul than the depth your **** will fill
1pm the girl gets anxious and self conscious, brushing her teeth every 5 minutes she is scared you're going to be scared off by the smells and odors her natural body gives
1:30 still nothing, as she lays on her bed trying to pass time and calm her nerves. Why is she nervous?? She's done this plenty of times she's had guys come in and out of her life she's had hands rub up her legs and eyes gazing at her chest, she's done this before - with him! She's gone down on her knees begging he will enjoy what she's giving, but maybe, she's begging for a different feeling..one he already denied her of receiving
2:00 the girl is antsy, eyes flickering on and off her blank screen awaiting a text to show up saying "I'm on my way" they now only have 3 hours of intimacy
3:00 her stomach rumbles. She's afraid if she eats she will look fat but if she refuses her stomach will rumble in his presence
Her mind is racing as time ticks on
Do not tell me that a guys puts in more effort
For this girl stayed up late painting her nails deep red hoping you'd think that's **** she sat there cleaning the edges trying to make sure that you could not see the imperfections she originally made
But, that's all this morning has been about..hasn't it?"
Oct 4, 2015
Oct 4, 2015 at 1:28 AM UTC
Donate to the destitute
Sniff at the rich,
To seek the improbable
Quest is a *****
Porcine platitudes
Lost to mules
Who ignore good advice
To play us for fools.
Dead giveaway dreamers
Floating on air
Who stroll past pearls
To preen their hair.
Contentious ********
Grind their teeth,
Obsessing with conflict
Asleep on their feet.
Beautiful bodies
Deplored by the boys
Who prefer their own gender
To feminine ploys.
Bearded babies
Found dead in the sand,
Mothers distraught
Militarily grand.
Losing the truth
Is humanity's skill
In removing the just
In the rush for the ****
Marshalg
@theBach
Mangere Bridge
5 October 2009
Oct 28, 2009
Oct 28, 2009 at 1:06 AM UTC
Do not consume me for I cannot bear it
Just as the moon holds sway of the tides,
So it is as this contentious concept laps against my mind
Sifting through the possibilities,
I am stripped across the sandy shore,
Held fast to wayward hands
Consciously drawn to my desires,
Colliding into illusions
Compile a craft to sail me above this confusion
To be defeated by far away forces or triumph o’er the seas
For this is the risk of freedom
Aug 20, 2010
Aug 20, 2010 at 4:04 PM UTC
In my life, people see me and hear me but never understand me.
For my mind is like the tide,
Ever changing.
One moment i may be a...
a force of rage,
roaring with contentious determination to
override what has ben brought before me.
invincible with nothing to hide.
I am rushing,
hurling toward my goals.
Suddenly out of the blue water, I unintentionally encounter my own self doubt. In that instant i am over come by unnerving shaking and stand in shock. In that in that moment my persistence changes into unnatural scattering....
Until it fades into into
nothing at all.
a void of
unexplainable emptiness.
panic! I force myself to speak, i must to force my thoughts back
out!
i scream in my head.
but it is gone before it has the chance to utter a whisper.
What is left for the world to hear is a yelp.
" Excuse me? What did you just say" they ask.
Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 11:42 AM UTC
sometimes i sit and text women messages free
of any ****** connotations.
other times i come across a chopped & *******
slowed + reverbed out version of a neoSoul song that i love.
she’s blonde and has a dumb thicc *** and
she’s a woman of few words and she was born
under a constellation of fire.
like i was.
her eyes are nearly unblinking
and they say less than her mouth
but i know
there is a sea
of symbol-sets
beneath those televised eyes.
how am i supposed to weave or write
when the joy is coming for my neck.
time is the measure of energy in motion
so i turn the dial wayyy down.
God is not a time-piece.
God is a flour mill -
shaped like an inside-out hourglass
in the background of XI Jinping’s latest video on
Tik Tok.
“Violent anarchists held a ‘Night of Rage’”
“Violent anarchists graffitied the Hatfield Courthouse.”
“Violent anarchists continue to attack law enforcement with lasers.”
gravity is hard on the feet and
hills are hard on the walking.
graveyards are a hard one for the memory
(if you believe your family is another pile of bones).
at least we have our three deaths to draw on and die.
1st when our last breath leaves us
2nd the last time someone speaks our name
3rd when Zuccman the Reptilian deletes our postumus, memorialized FB account.
where lies the heart of the enlightened without a mirror?
or when the three deaths are drawn and
it hangs suspended in purgatory like a
pack of Newports in the freezer?
or like a stylized hospital mask produced under
contentious labor practices and
shipped to America via air freight
passing over the Xinjiang province where crimes against humanity
are being committed on an industrial scale ----
The Uighurs NEED OUR HELP THEY SUFFERING A GENOCIDE
THEY ARE BEING ETHNICALLY CLEANSED!!
https://www.vox.com/2020/7/28/21333345/uighurs-china-internment-camps-forced-labor-xinjiang
Jul 31, 2020
Jul 31, 2020 at 7:14 PM UTC
Take me back to Wonderland,
There's a lot of things to learn,
A train to catch,
Doors to unlatch,
Take me to a different world,
This world is unforgiving,
Show me where's the looking glass,
Where I can escape,
This contentious place,
And put it in my past,
Were drinks can blur your vision,
And change the way you feel,
I only want,
To change my font,
To forget everything that's real,
An alternate reality,
Drink me, Eat me, Taste me,
No sir I can't explain myself,
For I am not myself you see,
I'd do anything to get away,
To get to another place,
But if you do not know,
Where you want to go,
It doesn't matter what path you take,
Just take me far away from here,
I wish nothing more than to leave,
To free myself,
From this awful hell,
To set my spirit free,
Off with her head off with her head,
For its all inside my mind,
Every demon,
Every season,
Is somewhere you won't find,
No mirrors and no reflections,
I do not want to see,
Not good enough,
Not thin enough,
That is simply me,
The smile that is so evident,
Isn't even what I condone,
It isn't real,
I do not feel,
Twisted, doomed, alone,
My hands are not in my control,
They want something I can't give,
My life force,
My minds court,
Its the only way to live,
Take me down to wonderland,
Take me down the rabbits hole,
To a different place,
Where my soul is safe,
Where I am in my own control…
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 3:06 PM UTC
We had the potential to become something incredible
Incredible in the heart's own mind,
The heart's mind knows what it wants
And the heart's mind yearns for one thing
For comfort
For love
Surrounding itself with solitude,
A stable ship
An unshakable breath
An unmistakable stare into a storming sea of contentious emotions
Purify the storm of regret and sorrow
Replace it with the eyes of my almost lover
That I once knew, because
Almost lovers always do
Pour me a mug of something sweet
Something purely made by you
And together, we will face fear
Of creepy crawlers, and shadows that go bump in the night
But please don't leave me,
To face unrealistic fairy tales alone
But "goodnight babe,
Sleep tight"
Just as you would say
Behind locked invisible doors, our souls, and hearts collide
Digging trenches around where we lay
Our hearts beat melodies, telling us to carry on,
But only some nights we cannot
So we lay, and whisper to each other words we wish we could say louder
But our hearts beat louder
than words ever could
So we stay where we are,
running in place
Never
getting closer to
each other
But our hearts always beat in unison
Oct 26, 2013
Oct 26, 2013 at 6:56 PM UTC
you claim to be the sun
a lioness and goddess
born from fire and flames.
I do not doubt you.
your beliefs are your own.
yet do not be so contentious
so audacious to paint yourself
in such resplendent glory.
we both know better.
if you are built from ashes
why do you claim to burn
at the memory of me?
my ghost should not leave
scorch marks upon a goddess
of the sun.
Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 10:13 PM UTC
She was a woman,
Inside a woman,
Inside a woman
The female definition of sisterhood
Emanating from her,
An aura of arduous existence
Of suffrage meeting resistance
She was bent over in lamentable labour
Bearing the weight of the world on her shoulders
Forgetting what men had tried to tell her
That she was an object to be sold and squandered
Through ever contentious contraction
She cried out in excruciating passion
But by the end of it all
She held in her hands
A creation of truth
That no man
Could truly understand
Oct 15, 2020
Oct 15, 2020 at 7:30 AM UTC
i find myself to be a contentious person
because my big mouth
never shuts
but there's a lot of good coming out
that just gets interlaced with some bad
well-meaning, albeit, not exactly thought out
thoughts
that get espoused before they're finished
i'm a rushed man
amid no rapids
Jul 7, 2021
Jul 7, 2021 at 4:41 PM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
I know what it is we saw
On the streets of Baltimore
Everything we should abhor
Burning, looting and much more
As our history has shown
Once contentious seed are sown
Violence that we can’t condone
Begins when the first stone is thrown
Once we loose the savage beast
And opportunists start to fleece
Their local businesses decrease
And there’s no justice or no peace
Deprivation is the aftermath
Once people choose a violent path
For some it’s fun and so they laugh
But they don’t know much about math
Whole communities disappear
As rioters stand around and cheer
Once the smoke has a chance to clear
We find it’s worst than we had feared
What began as an expression of pain
Rapidly denigrated before it changed
Which often happens when police are estranged
From communities they police when there’s no exchange
Violence never is the answer
Cos it can metastasize like a cancer
It never was an agenda advancer
Nor a valid argument enhancer
So let’s not try to pretend
That there can be any other end
Nor a position that we can defend
Can I surmise we comprehend?
(c) Copyright 2015, Cedric McClester. All rights reserved.
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 8:41 PM UTC