"decapitate" poems
I am the Great Connector
I was born to unite The Horde
I am the Great Collector
Of souls felled by my Axensword
They all call me subhuman
And revile me as a beast
But they do the same to you and
For that they'll pay the price
(No Peace)
We are strong, We are brave
Though they wish to see us caged
We are wild and Untamed
And we will never live as slaves
Conquerors, We Are One!
Same blood in different skins
At last you'll see, when the victor is me
I am the Lord of our Kin
Wastelanders, Join the March
The World will burn as we sing
When the battle is won, I'll announce to everyone
"I am the Ogre King!"
I am the Great Divider
I was born to brew up storms
I am the Annihilator
My path was forged in war
My reign began in chaos
In Bloodshed, so it ends
All this Strife has nearly left me with
No Kingdom to Defend
(Descent)
We are Violent and Enraged
Now that we have been Betrayed
There are Consequences Grave
For Manipulated Faith
Revolution, it has come!
Same blood but different sins
The Empire Falls
And all Hear the Call
For A New Order to Begin
Decapitate the Tyrants
& Slaughter those who Resist
When the battle is won,
At the top of my lungs, I'll cry
"Long Live the Ogre King!"
I am the Great Destroyer
The Throne is mine to take
I will be king at any cost
Dead nations in my wake
I am the Great Conniver
With Sinister Designs
Never cared how much is Lost
So long as what is Left is Mine
(Arise)
We are rabid and insane
From lives of misery and pain
Now that the world's ablaze
We fall into our cages
These Horrors have just begun
Same gore from separate veins
What have we done,
To our daughters and sons?
A History Bloodstained!
We threw our lives into this war,
And lost more than we gave
When the killing is done,
I'll tell everyone,
"The Ogre King is slain!"
Now Our Planet is a Grave!
"The Ogre King is Slain,
Long Live the Ogre King,
I Am
The Ogre King!"
Apr 6, 2018
Apr 6, 2018 at 3:38 PM UTC
Despair unrequited asked of me;
*where do proverbs, poems...
such wisdom's go to die?*
do they expire with the ink of thought
penning themselves out of imagination?
or simply tire of expectation?
tell me
&
i would scourge
that unenlightened grave-site,
guillotine its immoral keeper,
&
decapitate him upon
a writer’s block!
show me
&
i will breach earths bowels
wrenching words from darkness' depths
with the light verse of celebration
&
a calligrapher’s paragraph of praise.
only then should i rest in piece
from wordy passion
scribed with its, novel pleasures
&
when spent,
upon my epitaph do write;
*'she was consumed,
birthing words to life'*
© Qwey.ku
Jan 16, 2017
Jan 16, 2017 at 12:06 AM UTC
I couldn't figure why she left
so I killed her
killed the memories cut feelings-- severed;
Dismembered in these compositions, decomposition
skeleton's wish the fishes
she was swimming I could her listen,
how her waves are getting colder
silent as the ink turns to water.
drown in my notebook
choke like my love did,
no trace missing person drown in my hatred
drown you are baptized, opposite, soulless,
drown you just capsized, titanic,
roses
decapitate her DiCaprio
even playing all the roles I only get one Oscar?
you left me all alone babe,
so I safely took the safety off
like you,
safely made my core soft sole cause of secrets sore cause I keep them
no
I won't die with you Juliet,
slaughtered by a ball point to you I will be Shakespeare
and lately,
it mattered how I showered you with care
maybe
but it mattered how I showered you I swear
you left me you tempt me this weapon my intent
my motive, now I indent-- rarely but clearly this death will be punctual
Capital
punishment to you in my college ruled,
my hands electric
black attire
funeral-- my ivory dinner jacket,
remember you said it's a crime to fall in love
and I plead guilt to your probable cause
now the pigs wouldn't find her
not in mud,
not in dirt,
I'm on drugs,
not on earth,
still in love,
she,
vanished
the reality set in, even though you left I'd marry the poem that I killed you in--
I'd marry the words you left me with.
Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 11:08 PM UTC
Please don’t arouse
my anger
I don’t know
what I’ll do
If you threaten
My children
I might
Decapitate you
Please don’t arouse
My anger
Stay on
my Good side
Friend
If you arouse
My anger
It may mean
Your end
Feb 12, 2025
Feb 12, 2025 at 9:08 AM UTC
Decapitate, disembowel, tear and mutilate!
Schizophrenic!Psychedelic twisted mind!
Expedite, liberate, Alienate then recreate
Masonic!Prolific piece of mind!
Sabotage, besiege, flank to infiltrate!
Victorious!Strategic tyrannic mind!
Crucify, liquify, impale bleed them dry!
Torturous!Barbaric, sadistic mind!
Derange, insane, crazy and mental!
Hallucinating!Polysyllabic demented mind!
Disturbed, diabolic, vile and fatal!
Parasitic!Infected infested mind!
Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 4:53 PM UTC
**A ravaged beauty -
long threatened tired life,
riding appreciated**
Friday’s off-road cycle ride started late with a heart-choking chill head-wind blown rain - blurring my glassed vision, so I trusted into the triple lanes of colours slicing through the Vale of Neath. Here a builder’s ladder jumped boomeranging off it's white van - attempting to decapitate me - behind me it’s miss was announced by squealing brakes and crunching impacts, scaring alive splattered visions of a flat-end and being posted within a near drain. Surviving today's devilled ribbon of the dangerous windscreen imprisoned - sitting with pub bound murderous cohorts - I found off-road safe solitude’s mountain bike path East to Coelbren - joining new, a fine yet unsigned cycle route curling around Mynydd y Drum, to open views of Cwm Tawe as I pass hunting twisting through woods a single Red Kite. Then gravities speed, circles barriers into Ystradgynlais top - a narrow ribboned descent, hemmed by cars and paved children to the rugby fields.
**Senses travelogue -
previously un-experienced,
time spins slower**
Here the trails old section points to Swansea - winding lost betwixt fields, paths, trees and roads to Cwmtawe Cycleway proper, there to pedal beside and across Afon Tawe with repeated special offers of child saddled exhaust roaring kamikazes, bicycle maiming broken glass, proudly owned attack dogs, branch hung ball-sacks of excrement, visions of the lost ripped-away steel gated stops, hacked-off wooden fences and never-there deceitful dreams of red doggy bins all disguised what passed for hidden beauty, which he called lovely ugly. *Backing-into Pontardawe to crawl away below the dark bridge,
past a single inviting pub - I accompany the Tawe and it's twin a decrepit polished canal
through ***** alleys - until our hero stutters, gapes then tunnels under
great noisious noxious ribbons of hurtling tired....*
**Pressured paced life -
impossible commitments,
Living organic**
.
May 1, 2010
May 1, 2010 at 9:37 AM UTC
I didn’t pray to God in the hospital.
I didn’t pray to God in the jail.
No one’s praying to God when their duty to truth hasn’t failed.
No one’s praying to God if you’re the doctor threatened with ****** for abortions you perform.
No one’s praying to God when you’re accused as a witch and the holy-fire at your feet’s getting warm.
No one’s praying to God when medicine stops the disease that uncontrollably spread.
I wasn’t praying to God, when it was time for my heart to break and the pieces are still aching.
I wasn’t praying to God when I saw from mountaintops the natural wonder of this land.
I wasn’t praying to God when the times were bad, better, or good.
But God isn’t funny
When government leaders say they hear the words that he spoke,
Or when the faithful say he hates us, internet decapitate us,
Bar atheist from running nations though we’re just normal folk.
God isn’t funny,
When Religion’s given money just so others can pray,
But instead try humanism,
Give the people penicillin,
Clean water, food, or a place to live in but,
Hunger isn’t hilarious.
Ha Ha
Ha Ha
I didn’t pray to God in the hospital.
I didn’t pray to God in the jail.
I won’t be praying to God when my mortal heart finally fails.
No one would pray to God if they realized heaven’s not there when they finally close their eyes
I don’t pray to God, I won’t take false comfort in lies.
But God isn’t funny,
When people use his views to deft scientific proof.
Pronouncing old conclusions, renouncing evolution,
If it’s faith or truth it should be easy to choose.
But God isn’t funny,
When he gives false hope to the hurting and bereaved,
And it’s goes without saying,
If you’re a different faith or gay then,
We’re all peace and love but you’re not in the club.
Doesn’t sound so hilarious
I didn’t pray to God in the hospital.
I didn’t pray to God in the jail.
I didn’t pray to God in the hospital.
I didn’t pray to God in the jail.
I didn’t pray to God in the hospital.
I didn’t pray to God in the jail.
Mister God look at your people they’re starving, freezing, diseased, or so very poor.
No one's laughing at God
No one's laughing at God
No one's laughing at God
Laughing at the sky is odd.
Sep 13, 2010
Sep 13, 2010 at 3:52 PM UTC
as you trod upon your floral dream-world
pierots on pillows gaze.
watching you with
intent.
peonies are being pulled back beneath,
the false divider, between
earth and fire.
barriers.
are simply states of your soul stuck watching,
divine totems decapitate themselves
instead of succumbing to
slumber.
the blades on which you rest end abruptly.
leaving only an ancient path within.
lost somewhere between dying
dynasties.
there is a hole in the dirt where gravity sings,
to cobblestone satellites scanning
the skies.
for more than a sign that knowledge need not be,
a colossal misconception...
transcending
even the most distant star cluster.
Sep 11, 2011
Sep 11, 2011 at 8:30 PM UTC
**A ravaged beauty -
long threatened tired life,
riding appreciated
Friday’s off-road cycle ride started late with a heart-choking chill head-wind blown rain - blurring my glassed vision, so I trusted into the triple lanes of colours slicing through the Vale of Neath. Here a builder’s ladder jumped boomeranging off it's white van - attempting to decapitate me - behind me it’s miss was announced by squealing brakes and crunching impacts, scaring alive splattered visions of a flat-end and being posted within a near drain. Surviving today's devilled ribbon of the dangerous windscreen imprisoned - sitting with pub bound murderous cohorts - I found off-road safe solitude’s mountain bike path East to Coelbren - joining new, a fine yet unsigned cycle route curling around Mynydd y Drum, to open views of Cwm Tawe as I pass hunting twisting through woods a single Red Kite. Then gravities speed, circles barriers into Ystradgynlais top - a narrow ribboned descent, hemmed by cars and paved children to the rugby fields.
Senses travelogue -
previously un-experienced,
time spins slower
Here the trails old section points to Swansea - winding lost betwixt fields, paths, trees and roads to Cwmtawe Cycleway proper, there to pedal beside and across Afon Tawe with repeated special offers of child saddled exhaust roaring kamikazes, bicycle maiming broken glass, proudly owned attack dogs, branch hung ball-sacks of excrement, visions of the lost ripped-away steel gated stops, hacked-off wooden fences and never-there deceitful dreams of red doggy bins all disguised what passed for hidden beauty, which he called lovely ugly. Backing-into Pontardawe to crawl away below the dark bridge, past a single inviting pub - I accompany the Tawe and it's twin a decrepit polished canal through ***** alleys - until our hero stutters, gapes then tunnels under great noisious noxious ribbons of hurtling tired....
Pressured paced life -
impossible commitments,
Living organic**
.
May 6, 2010
May 6, 2010 at 12:54 AM UTC
England eats Her shoes.
The Royal Be-dazzler was insane,
so these shoes were extraordinary birds.
The pair assembled their Royal Nest
in a vault. Inside a laser cocoon.
A Might peckish..
England eats
Her shoes.
In Japan, tsunami lack the dexterity to avoid densely populated areas;
but dolphins are delicious.
The cherry blossoms are giddy pink.
And Zen
Koi.
Ripples in a pond decapitate the moon.
In Japan, the Future was Yesterday;
So their robots have emotions -
They cry themselves to sleep
at night.... in the middle
of the Sea.
They cry themselves to sleep at night.... in the middle of the Sea.
Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 8:10 PM UTC
It was before me
Yelling no screaming blood curdling wails
I should have never done it
I should have never walked hand in hand with my heart
It's too small
We never see eye to eye
Always on the opposite side of the train tracks
I'm the fool not my heart
I was the idiot stupid enough to think
This relationship would ever go anywhere
Was I ready?
Why did I try?
My mother was right
I am a pathtetic excuse of life
A waste of talent
A rotting corpse of emotions
Left deaf dumb blind and lost in this grave
Wondering when the sky will decide to fall
And show me
Show the world
I was always the fool
My heart was the one I blamed
I'm too weak to continue fighting
Yet I'm still clutching this sword
Like I know I'll win
Would I be the fool to let go and die
Let the anger decapitate me
Or would I be a fool
For not forgiving my own stupidity
Say I'm sorry
Hope you'll still love me the same
I know I'm the fool not my heart
But what should I think with
When both my heart and mind know
We'll both end up getting hurt
Should I think with my ****
Say I love you only when I'm trying to get in your pants
Should I think random
Start talking about the stars and say I love you out of nowhere
Should I think without thinking
Shut the **** up and be the pet
I don't want to be the fool anymore
I don't want to be domesticated
When I'll always have the instinct to hunt
The pain I feel in my chest
Every time we argue
With the razorblade you wish I would get rid of
I'm the fool not my heart
So when you break up with me
Don't target my heart
I'm the one responisble for all of this
Take aim at my forehead
My heart has seen the worst
It has the most scars
So this time I'll make my body and mind
Take the blunt force of your punches
I'm the fool
Always was and always will be
Not my heart
Never was
Mar 12, 2014
Mar 12, 2014 at 2:47 PM UTC
I hope you hang from the noose tied around my heart,
to decapitate the monster
that eats at your thoughts;
searching for your weakness
and feeding on your pain,
killing you quickly in this inevitable game.
You roll the dice again,
only to find you'll never win.
Now the tables have turned and I'm back where i started;
dumb and in love,
scarred arms and open hearted.
when I realized the games were over
and everything was real,
i tried desperately to run,
but stayed for the thrill;
expecting you'd leave once you've had your fill.
now I'm happily trapped,
in this game we call love.
i won't try to run or give you away.
you're mine and I'm yours,
and that's how it should be.
we killed the monster and beat the game,
our cynical hearts now one in the same.
Mar 29, 2011
Mar 29, 2011 at 9:15 PM UTC
How long shall they
**** our prophets,
While we stand aside
In hopelessness and look?
Silah., oh sihah oh Silah?
Oh Allah, said the Muslim.
Why lord, asked the Christian,
Shallom said the Jew!
A few of whom knows
What's wrong with the truth.
Wisdom is better than silver
And gold but the jew chooses gold.
This is not antisemitism,
This is the brainchild of capitalism
and the Occidental colonization
Of our minds lands and cultures.
Bob said prophetic things and he
sang revolutionary songs that
resonates to this very day.
We see the zion train every day
but it delivers nothing to us.
It comes empty but leaves
With tons of our resources.
But we ain't got much to say.
We see the smogs from the
Burning coals from its exhaust,
We hear the tots of the soul train
as it comes our way. we see
nothing but gushes of blood as
It seeps into the soil the Dutchmen
Stood on to decapitate the sons
and daughters of Congo.
Courtesy of King Leopold of Belgium.
Bob was right, A thousand years
Of history will not be wiped away!
#IvanBrookspoetry © #Bassapoet
Aug 22, 2019
Aug 22, 2019 at 4:23 PM UTC
****** or Heroine?
by Michael R. Burch
(for mothers battling addiction)
serve the Addiction;
worship the Beast;
feed the foul Pythons
your flesh, their fair feast ...
or rise up, resist
the huge many-headed hydra;
for the sake of your Loved Ones
decapitate medusa.
Keywords/Tags: drugs, addiction, user, ****** needle, tracks, marks, pain, despair, recovery
Jun 26, 2020
Jun 26, 2020 at 2:14 AM UTC
Fidget.
The longer I sit here
as a victim of the flowers,
their moony faces
peering at me through
stupored goggles,
the more I want to
decapitate them
petal by false petal,
watching them fall to the floor.
Fidget.
The longer I am chained
to the dry ***** pipes
droning through the November air
dry paperthin hymns,
the stronger the urge to
rip them to shreds
then dipping them
one by one
into a vat of emotion.
Fidget.
I am a prisoner of the podium
and of the pew;
of the carbon-copy prayers
devoid of actuality
of love
of meaning.
The words echo endlessly
through dried-up wells
that sobs no longer seek
for solace.
Empty and stale,
they roll off your tongue
without a second thought.
Does no one mean anything anymore?
The microphone passes
from prophet to false prophet
sighing sympathetically
before returning to the leader-
even he reads his love
from an index card.
My head throbs in my hands
bursting with a burning question
and my legs sink like lead weights
under my black tights.
The ***** resonates
but I stand.
Nothing-
not the boy to my right
nor the best friend to his
not the whispers
nor the final words that
FINALLY
overflow with truth and love
not the sickening plummet of shock
from a glimpse of the honored one's face
can stop me from running
down the aisles
out the double doors
leaving petals and music notes
strewn in my wake.
What will my funeral be like?
Dec 22, 2009
Dec 22, 2009 at 6:21 PM UTC
my poor cones and rods
are victims of a sensual seclusion
when every hue begs to be seen
with cookie-cutter eyes
vacant as atheist heaven
mindless obedience and the train’s track
figure eight with fingers crossed—
we are putting the plea in “please”
tied crudely to the rails
as the engines
swift as rabbits in heat
decapitate us
and how long our last night lasted
i couldn’t say
before your teeth drew iron blood
a vibrant tongue
crippled crimson
from the moment we unzipped
i was speechless.
Jun 23, 2012
Jun 23, 2012 at 11:47 AM UTC
It kills me to say this, but I think you and I are like oil and water.
Despite my longing to decapitate into your molecules and blend into you,
Maybe we weren't meant to mix.
Some times the forbidden-ness creates passion and pride,
and it did on my side.
I would still do anything and everything to dust your rocky shores.
You still are my ocean and everyday you swallow me whole.
But, I heard about this lake where the salt and fresh water collide and make waves.
And I wouldn't mind making waves with you.
Mar 23, 2013
Mar 23, 2013 at 8:37 AM UTC
The wrinkled man who shrugged off my laments
Disregarded despondence
Left me lonesome on a freezing night
Waiting for the next northbound
But he's no friend of mine
The lady in blue who
Always knew better
Knew the truths and
She didn't need any **** suggestions
But she's no friend of mine
God watched from his stone steeple
Admired the downward spiral
Like rock 'em sock 'em robots
Eagerly trying to decapitate themselves
But he's no friend of mine
How could I be fooled by poorly constructed word
Let me taste empathy
And to think that I almost durst to think
That I wasn't alone
But they're no friends of mine
The bedsheets ensnare me in a morning haze
gives me a newfound appreciation for my Blank walls and ceiling
I admire them
Illuminated by the slightest amount of light to make them visible
Peering through my blinds like a peeping Tom
Yes, quite a good friend of mine.
Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 5:27 AM UTC
if i promised you the future
would be there when we arrived
would you walk with me
every leap will be a stride
to conquer
divide
we have to decapitate the domineering minority
separate the fools from their money
then instigate a global technological democracy
where every human is connected
directly represented
every choice debated and agreed
on civic days pride dictated
taking part is part of taking
what can be provided
by our trying to be
a true planetary society
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 1:05 AM UTC
Don't push me.
I am a force to be reckoned with.
My words can castrate you,
decapitate you,
depreciate you.
Don't push me.
My words are a hurricane
that will rip down the house
you've built on your righteous soul.
My words are a tsunami
that will sink the ship
you sail across your radical sea.
My words are a tornado
that will tear you straight
from your solid ground.
Don't push me.
I weave tales of anger and woe
that force themselves into your mind,
that break you from the inside,
tales that take you past
your comfort zone.
Don't push me.
I can make you fall with this poem.
I can make you cry with my story.
I can make you scream with a few words.
Don't push me.
I am a force to be reckoned with.
Mar 19, 2012
Mar 19, 2012 at 10:09 PM UTC
My legs cut through the air like a scythe as this pendulum swings
Lyrics decapitate your pride like a king in a guillotine
Emotions will fly left and to the right while remaining unseen
Some are delightful but others are as black as my jeans
I can never really tell if my mind is getting better
When all the time I can't even decide if I'm sweating or I need a sweater
So burn all these letters and leave the past behind
But even that can't fix my troubled little mind
Still having those delusions
Not making any friends
With demons and illusions
That want my life to end
Torn between reality
And who I should be and who I want to be
I'm just done with society
And all of it's conformity
Done with all the tools and fakes and it just takes everything out of me to not treat them so badly and start some ****** anarchy
So allow me to just swing life away on this beautiful day to the beat of my own drums and rhythm in my ears with the lyrics from my past that just bring me right to tears
And allow me to close my eyes and swing to and fro
No longer in control of which direction I will go
Will I jump to the sky and wave my past goodbye
Or will I fall to the ground just because I enjoy the sound
Addicted to the misery that I once I had
Listening to every ******* lyric that makes me mad
So allow me to grit my teeth and sway all about
Trying my best with people around not to scream and shout
Because when my music talks to the voices, who knows what darkness will come out
So I get off and leave because I can no longer breath
With those words crawling up my spine and right down my sleeves
Seeing becomes believing as I start heading home
My old friends never like for me to travel alone....
May 5, 2014
May 5, 2014 at 1:17 AM UTC
I love too deep;
I love until the sentiment
is a scalpel digging into my veins;
I will love you until the sentiment
will decapitate my brain;
I love you at 3 am and 3 pm,
You are an elavator
and if I travel with you,
maybe the spring will
stop being so bipolar .
Sep 18, 2016
Sep 18, 2016 at 11:19 AM UTC
Together, let's paint our future in blood,
And intertwine our veins.
Why are you turning back?
I have you now; I'm not letting you go away.
Feel my knife etching my initials in your skin
And gaze at the marks from my bites.
A perfect doll for my collection,
You are forever mine.
I'm not one to associate with jealousy,
I just decapitate anyone who glimpses your way.
Now, now; no need to worry,
There's nothing physically wrong with my brain.
It's just that your tormented shrills just turn me on,
That I'm addicted to indulging in your soul.
The way your eyes represent an abyss of fear,
Your skin loses warmth and turns frigid cold;
And the flow of crimson rivers cascading down your flesh
When the pain is more than you can endure,
Makes me want to keep you in my chamber,
With your limbs chained to the floor.
Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 10:25 PM UTC