"despicably" poems
dreaming of your embrace,
blind to the sight
of the inevitable burns
you have been cursed with
through my touch.
we love like the sun
and the moon.
a beautifully
hopeful love;
a despicably
fruitless fate.
Apr 30, 2021
Apr 30, 2021 at 7:57 PM UTC
Hidden star against the dark backdrop of night.
Not seen...
Not heard...
Struggling to assert existence with waning light.
Stifled are the stories dying to be told.
Eclipsed are the emotions
within collapses and folds.
Cloaked is the voice
that screams in silent anguish.
Disenchanted is the will
that once spoke of flourish.
I see you black star...
Know that...
You're nearer than far.
Dig deep...
Past the charred, crumbling skin.
Dig deep...
Into the beating heart within.
Know that...
You're better than any of them.
Any of us.
Time will only reveal,
what the sky sought to despicably conceal.
Your true calling.
Not as the quiet sentinel
that no one sees...
but a cosmic gem.
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 12:41 AM UTC
Once upon a time...
You & I lived lives divided
Until by fate we were united
When we first lit the fire
Once upon a time
I would watch you from a distance
Desired you, but stayed resistant
To the Urges that would cloud my mind
with Wickedness, persistent
Your perfect fairy wings
Fluttered lightly in the wind
And though I did the best I could
My thoughts were wrought with sin
And I desired you like mad
For the Angel that I had
Left me burning despicably
With wretched flames within
And You
were so
Inviting.
Your Body
Ripe
for the Taking.
Guarded you were
Behind Gates of the Dragon
Yet I watched you intently
Plotting my Ransom
Waiting on the right moment to strike
To steal you away from your
Protected Life
And to take you back with me
Into my Cell
In the dark and abysmal cave where I dwell
To teach you the ways
Us Creatures gain pleasure
To make you my Slave
And to ransack your Treasures
And then came the day
That you broke away
From the Chains
That held you to where you were safe
I saw you
And watched you
and Stalked you
Intently
While you were out searching the world
Innocently
And then,
When you were finally in reach
And we were Alone
I snatched you away
from the flowers and reeds
And stole you back with me
into my home
A cold and depressing
Dungeon of Stone
Your protector was gone
And you were all mine
When we were alone
Lost somewhere in time
And to my shock, and utter surprise
You became the flame that lit up my eyes
And slowly but surely as days slipped by
I became yours more than you became mine
And then, you escaped
or did I let you get away?
You emerged from my cave
Beautiful, unscathed
I just couldn't bring myself
to be one you hate
When your love is so sweet
I just couldn't betray it
But then, I thought
of you out in the world
Alone
On your own
My sweet pixie girl
And I couldn't
JUST COULDN'T
Handle the thought
of a Monster like me
Dragging you through the mud
Coveting you
the way that I do
But most of All
Tasting your Love
Staying put was so much harder than
trying to be your Guardian
and Rescue you
and Shelter you
from any more Hate or Abuse
And now I see my sins
Led me out of the darkness within
Into the sunshine of your life -
Where I found the Source of Light
I needed to keep me alive
And I feel like I owe you my life
And now you're free from my Prison
but I guess, so am I, in essence
In the end, the Fairy
Showed the Goblin,
He longed to be a Prince.
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 10:58 PM UTC
Our wilier webs
woven with the distractions of self-absorption
can come to feel
cheated if we use them
only for halfhearted games of catch
and eventual release.
He’d overlooked that part.
Then there was an obligation to prey
who so willingly strayed upon the taffy
pull of his sweet and sticky strands.
The scrunch up of their wee faces
squeaked, “We deserve
to have our glued-down expectations
met with a most gruesome expertise.”
He’d just wanted to watch them
struggle a smidge,
at first.
It was a test if this muscle the scribes
ascribe as rightly plagued by pangs
was in him
perhaps despicably defective.
With each tripper-by trapped
the examinations grew
more tortuously complex,
and when none raised even
the slightest murmur of a palpitation,
he gave the web its dripped-dry due,
at last.
“The murderous truth will out,”
they say. It did, monstrously.
Now his bound but gagless masques
are always well-attended.
Sep 29, 2010
Sep 29, 2010 at 7:40 AM UTC
Thoughts of the self-spoken
Left me wandering;
Tangled into the parable visions
As we gaze through the celestial eerie.
Mirrors from side to side,
I still can't see the myself inside.
Mazy patterns were confusing my mind.
Despicably appropriate,
Whereas the heavens of alas contemplate.
In this empty vast,
We see light from present to past.
Scourging sun diminishes darkness
Over light in distant visionless.
Blinded to see the real vision of the race;
To acknowledge the imagery painted to praise.
Entire race failed to obey,
Garner the intellect of marionettes strings,
Puppets of the mischief,
Puppeteers of a sheep,
The scent of the blood,
Descends a ripple from hate.
Cast the spell upon yourself,
And let the bloodshot eyes tell
How it visions the dark world's hell.
Oct 14, 2016
Oct 14, 2016 at 10:37 PM UTC
Tap, tap, tap
Scratch, scratch, scratch
The lines of white go down the hatch
Not a fix, just a patch
An insane state with insane prayers
Let's take a moment to observe the players:
The white robe thinks in prints and poisons
Rotting cancers and botched abortions
The dollar signs they blind the eyes,
And rot the face of the intruder
Aw, that's just adorable!
The blue tie thinks in power and paper
The numbers add up, the results could be fatal
Turning circles into squares and caskets to cradles
Far away from the face of the masses
Honey, should we do the beach house again?
The blindfold sees in light and dark
Nothing perverse, nothing shocks
Going down easy, the numbness a must
Despicably pleasing to watch them rust
It was a long day at the office, my dear.
Apr 1, 2012
Apr 1, 2012 at 7:49 AM UTC
Oh, happiness, you know, is such a mystery to me
For my sweet mind, so nubile, now tempted and teased
In daisy chains constrained, becomes unflaggingly naïve
Amidst hopeless, hungry caricatures of a fresh, degenerate breed---
It is these sad amalgamations of cynicism and greed
That beg so caustically for my poor pauper’s decree
Wholly, humbly, in morally hazardous beseech
Reminding me that I will never be exempt from this disease
Because a bird that has for all its life been caged
Would know not, in freedom’s grasp, just how it should behave
And I imagine, most ignorantly, would haplessly spend its days
Flying in circles above the cold cell in which it was once contained
For it is the fear within that forbids us from ever wandering astray
Not, as we convince ourselves, those despicably tangible restraints
But the prejudices and prospects upon which we were raised
The unforgiving pathways of a pre-determined fate
Well, I’d rather die simply, dreaming wistfully instead
Because even the corporeal hand of freedom is ghostly akin to lead
The poison in my veins that leaves me ****** and unfed
It can scarcely compare to the beauty I’ve concocted in my head
And ‘fate,’ I admit, is something that I’ve come to quite dread
To think my end is not my own makes me wish that I was dead
To be voiceless and choiceless and paralyzed in my bed
A story that was written and never to be read
My existence will never course on a single, narrow line
And there will be many, many beds in which my loyalties lie
The destination may well be as crooked as the path the arrow flies
And for all of this uncertainty, I most assuredly will be fine
Because mark my words; let doubt not linger in mind
These cages and these pages will be now and forever mine
Just an arbitrary reaction to the hand-me-down destiny I’ve defied
The parameters I have made to covet all the corners of my life
Oct 28, 2011
Oct 28, 2011 at 7:46 PM UTC
*Rita
Sullen, sultry but delectable nevertheless
She looked at me like an adjudicator
And my confidence sank way down low
I became a blubbering idiot
Whimpering like an orphaned puppy
Theodora
Bereft of height but redeemed somewhat by her face
She looked at me like I was the answer to all her prayers
And my disdain for seekers of things personal shot through the roof
I became this despicably insensitive yuppie living only for music
And her pining heart sent her home early upon a light breeze
Maria
clear complexion with the tone of ripe yellow peaches
She walked out of a shower into the sunshine like a subject of art
When her gaze touched my doting eyes I was lost forever
And my obsession with beauty and allure was well and truly fanned
I became a frequent visitor at the altar of romantic slaughter where dreams die
Elsie
Dark, with dancing eyes and a bobbing ***** replete with femininity
Elsie tortured me with her hungry look then huffed like she was breathing her last
My infatuation with girls that treated me like a killer of their hearts began here
I desperately wanted to reciprocate her take-me-now urges under the June sky
But alas, these things were never meant to be; she was just a maid and I was on the way up
Peggy
Tall and sweet with articulate eyes and a younger sister that spoke for her
She was not one to play hard to get and declared her love like it was a blessing
She made my ego grow in leaps and bounds and had a figure like an artist's model
I was stunned by her loving openness and could have tied the knot if I could
But circumstances, as always, altered cases and we went our separte ways for good
Clementine
Succulent like the clementine, her namesake, she aired her feelings out for me to see
She had a bigger sister who treated me like I was what her sister needed in perpetuity
Clementine and I shared a secret that we kept from my besotted cousin
My love for intrigue and convolution henceforth was my driver in matters of the heart
And I grew into this heartless beau who needed to be rescued from his own folly
And today in my armchair under the leafy avocado pear tree I sit and wonder where I lost it*
Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 7:58 AM UTC
It's nights like this
and it's girls like her
and it's wine like my father's
that make me enjoy drinking alone.
The taste of the locally produced wine
and the failure of love despicably drawn out
and the dry heat of scorching July nights that validate my drunken state.
Understanding that no two headed boy will save me tonight
and the acceptance of lost cigarettes makes this night
even more painful and forlorn.
The shadows envelope the tip of the Tree around nine o'clock this time of year.
The heat stays
and so will I.
Drunken,
nervous,
longing,
afraid.
With no two headed boy to save me tonight.
Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 1:19 AM UTC
The flames that stick
The lies that lick
Ten and six years have gone
And yet only now I begin
To find the truth
In scars among the ashes
You hand me truth on a silver platter
Yet you cross your fingers
That the hideous stain on the underside
Will scamper out of sight
The truths have for four less a score
Been the threshold
Of what I thought was real
You raised me in a bed of flowers
And never bothered to remove the paint
As the petals turned to lead
The leaded falsehoods,
The poisons that corrupted,
I wasted my years
Building among the ruins
What I thought was true
Only to have reality
Eat my lungs out
Nothing seems different
Yet nothing is the same
You don’t know I know
You don’t know I’ve forgiven you
You don’t know that the truth of your secret
Eats me alive.
The worst part?
No one can know
Lest war should break out
So what do I do
Now that the lies
Which provided the foundation
Of the reality upon which I grew
Have been exposed?
Where do I run
When I am imprisoned
With nowhere to hide
In the Hell you expect me to call home?
The bane of my childhood,
These bitter truths,
The ones you have forced me
To realize on my own,
They’ve induced
Humiliation and pain,
Rage and suffering,
Disappointment and shame,
In the dignity of the trust
That was once nearing two decades in the making.
But behind even the darkest veil
Doth the bittersweet cloud hide a silver lining.
Thus it’s been concluded:
Neither in this dwelling,
Nor in that of another,
Not even in this world
Lies my home.
Alas, it seems
All mankind is homeless
Lest he find the satisfyingly loving Presence;
That which can be found
Not by sight, nor sound,
Neither touch, nor smell, nor taste.
Still the remarkable untruths of the past remain
They smolder and glare and snicker and jeer
As they burn my heart out
The silver soothes ever so slightly
Only to maintain balance minimal
Equilibrium numbs the agony ever so gently
Yet as I hack out the blood
While your jagged sword is drawn ever so slowly
From the feebly thumping ***** which in my ***** resides,
The toxic smoke of your despicably blatant lies lingers on…
Oct 10, 2011
Oct 10, 2011 at 7:04 PM UTC
With my being so fragmented how will i ever get any part of me back.
I guess i'm starting to feel for now but i want to let the sadness win.
I don't care anymore about being around anyone because i hold no one dear.
Isolated forever, why is this life of mine so unclear.
I guess in the past i didn't understand.
And all of this petty slavery has kept me with a shorthand.
It was nice for a while when i was heard to feel like someone actually cared.
But i've more or less been alone so it felt like a breath of fresher air.
Little did i know they were mostly against me.
My feelings were robbed and i would have rather taken the agony.
Being a sociopath turned me into someone worse than them.
So why the **** am i sitting here writing again?
I don't know where i'm going but i never want to return.
Because all of this torture turned me into the absolute worst.
I guess it's something everyone knew i could never withstand.
So why can't i find any of the beauty in life because i can't take their plans.
I guess i should just wander until my last breath.
Because people are so despicable and never give it a rest.
Jun 10, 2019
Jun 10, 2019 at 11:36 AM UTC
I am a dream dancer.
My strings are taut
over the vaults of the sky so soft.
Like a quiet muse I hear
the silent night breaking in.
Like marble, strands of clouds shine brightly,
in shades of rosé and nacre here,
those anxious sounds are getting lost,
now blanching in rust and debris near.
I am a dream dancer,
staggeringly floating in the sea of the world,
wobbling and falling on thin ropes,
spoiled in nothingness and oh so empty,
despicably holding the here in fear.
I am a dream dancer.
And I fall
As an eternal bliss truant
To the ground.
© fey (28/12/17)
Sep 14, 2020
Sep 14, 2020 at 2:23 AM UTC
If life was easy everyone would be doing it.
It happens at everyone's expense;
without recompense.
We all try to coexist with our backs against the fence.
Because we're incapable of trust;
but perfectly capable of lust.
Greed; gluttony, sins of the American company,
hoping for a righteous man to accompany
this wrath and pride,
enveloping society in the high tide
of human nature.
But maybe; just maybe,
there's nowhere safer.
I can sit and smile, talk with a friend
and build a bond that not even time can bend.
Because our innate ability to love unconditionally;
is what I have chosen to defend.
Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 11:58 AM UTC
Severely hyperactive mind
To keep up with a age of sensitive depressives
Or to morally go where no end is close
I
Allotted in lieu of this knowledge
Give it away
Every taste of bitter fruit of vine
Much of tender entanglement between you and I
And, so any enlightenment also blended - now dispelled
The magic is of Etymological contradictory
Reverent souls whom despicably chore over us
And the managers granting Death a pass without your consent
For freedom, for your freedom and the lives of lawve
Please be quiet, be sure to not awake the myth
Make sure you keep as far stretched as humanely as possible
Surely it'll turn accordion, to combat your intake of fresh air
The grips of mice are like mine
be where,
beware
&
or
NO,
Know,
be in transition.
Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 4:11 PM UTC
Caught red-handed,
You reach for the first thing
Your grubby metacarpus can find,
Be it a sabre or quill.
You ****** and parry away
In your journal,
All in the hopes you might
Besmirch me,
And strike it rich
At the same time.
But like Dido, Queen of Carthage,
Your bags of gold
Contain only sand.
This is your hapless undoing,
Mr. Hamilton,
Despicably so.
Don't use me as a crutch,
Fall on your own sword!
Talk about a fair amount
Of revisionist's history,
But we'll save that for
Another day...
Suffice to say:
History is in the eyes of the beholder.
Feb 11, 2020
Feb 11, 2020 at 4:37 PM UTC
"What is your favorite despicably beautiful thing?"
Two answers: sadness and you.
Both comparable in more ways than one.
You are a million gallons of peppermint tea,
an avalanche of contaminated sunsets,
******* renditions of Gymnopédies.
Remember year 2009? I watched the moon with you.
You wanted to bathe in the half-priced rain shower
and I said sorry, I'm sorry, I'm really ******* sorry,
because I could do anything for you at that moment
but I didn't. I didn't.
The mind is not the heart--
Don't be fooled, my hideous darling gremlin of a self.
The mind. Is not. The. Heart.
And it never will be.
Pitter patter. I hear your calling in every rain drop.
I see your face in every expensive thing I can't afford:
that box of earl grey, those Japanese ******* tea cups--
But I can live with the loss of you.
I can live. I can live.
I am never alone anyway.
Oct 7, 2015
Oct 7, 2015 at 5:37 AM UTC
And I loved you. And I felt a fire ignite in my tired bones as you wrapped my legs around your waist and dipped my neck beneath the hot cloud of oxygen you were exhaling. You fingers dug into by skin and it created a private meaning of total nonexistent regard. Raw and unhinged and despicably vulnerable. Like desperation or begging for light when its too dark. And I was free like a sunrise on Sunday morning. And I was filled to the brim with passion and I was hungry for more of it. So I shed all of my old skin and let you inside this heaven of darkness I call home so you could light my soul on fire. You may stay all night long.
{Cheya Wolfe}
Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 9:51 PM UTC
break down
let them be free
break down
let it go
we are the slave owners
we control
we are the tyranny
WE
so
break down
-----
we are
the enemy
we are
the fools
pretending wisdom
unknown
we use the word "love"
so falsely
we use "family"
despicably
we are
so cowardly
so
break down
--
we are
THE SLAVE OWNERS
THE TRUE SLAVES
we are
the tyranny
so break down
break down
over and over
till all hate is gone
and all are free
Sep 27, 2010
Sep 27, 2010 at 2:05 PM UTC
Today we have just scratched the surface
Here lies your hopes and dreams
Mary Magdalene would merely laugh at me
Meadows of chloroform and chemical winds bypass my every thought but then again
Maybe I am not a disaster and maybe this is just a test
The strong willed and strong stomached gasp at the sight of this
What treachery is love and why is it not forbidden
What lovely tragedy, oh, what a comedy
You crave and thrive on drama and you are so two-faced
Even Jesus Christ is fooled
I am but a morsel lacking morals towards the monstrosities and the ill mannered
Flying high on the backs of the enemy
Laughing despicably
Uncontrollably
Gasping for every breath
Drowning in what seems to be nothing besides oxygen
I am a train wreck
I am a car crash
My fumes will spread near and far
Not as far as I'd like them to
But far enough to make the world know
That I am here and suffering
*Please let me off easy
I'll do anything
Please let me off easy*
Broken, beaten, battered, battled
Bestowed on top of the highest mountain
The clouds are my escape and I pray that I never have to return home
*What is life without a little bit of adventure
What is a nightmare without a little bit of terror*
Life is a thunderstorm and I am a chain-link fence
It was all very shocking at first
At least I am used to it by now
May 9, 2016
May 9, 2016 at 11:17 PM UTC
even bugs leave smudges
on despicably clean things.
years are live coals,
do not keep in pockets.
the well-earned scab
carries no shame–
even the earth groans
between giant sidewalk cracks.
several trillion hourglasses
broke for this one sand,
and how many more
for the glass.
a grass stain is a miracle,
blood of the sun
holeyness all-revealing:
my heels will glow
with callous kisses
carrying small things
like the world
Dec 23, 2014
Dec 23, 2014 at 11:13 PM UTC
Sultry like a winter morning, but delectable, nevertheless
She looked at him with an adjudicator’s eye for the indefinable
And down into the doldrums sank his loud bravado like a stone
He became a blubbering idiot, breathless at her royal presence
Whimpering like a blind, hungry puppy in its dark world
Bereft of height but redeemed somewhat by a rather rare face
She looked at him as if to say he was the answer to all her prayers
The boy’s disdain for seekers of things personal shot through the roof
He became a despicably insensitive dreamer living only for music
Red-carded by her heart on a sleeve he sent her home early to moan
Her clear complexion with the juicy tone was like ripe yellow peaches
She walked out of a shower into the sunshine like a subject of art
When her eyes touched his doting face he was lost forever in her gaze
On this day his obsession with allure was well and truly fanned; he
Became a devotee at the altar of romantic slaughter where dreams die
Dark, with dancing eyes and a full bobbing ***** girlish but feminine
She ate him up with a hungry look and threatened to swoon as her knees buckled
His infatuation with girls that treated him like the killer of their dreams began here
Sorely tempted was he to become her instant lover under that sunny September sky
But alas, it could never be; she was just a maid and he was on the way up
Tall and sweet with articulate eyes and a younger sister that spoke for her
She was not one to play hard to get and declared her love like a blessing
She made his ego grow in leaps and bounds and had a figure like an artist's model
He was stunned by her openness and began to feel like someone arrived at his station
But circumstances, as always, altered cases and they went their separate ways for good
Succulent like the clementine, her namesake, she spread her feelings out for him to see
She had a bigger sister who treated him like he was what her younger sister needed
Clementine and he shared yearning secrets about brief looks and shy touches
Henceforth his love for intrigue in matters of the heart drove him full throttle
And he grew into this heartless beau in love with love, cursed with a wandering heart
Today he sits in a tired armchair under a weeping willow wondering what happened
May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 3:48 AM UTC
Lackadaisically lazy,
Freethinking state-of-mind,
Purposively pensive,
Generously kind.
Occasionally cautious,
Heavy set, a belting beard,
Despicably dizzy,
And wonderfully weird.
Apr 29, 2016
Apr 29, 2016 at 10:29 AM UTC
Did you remember to breathe in your sleep?
Did you, upon awakening,
Look to the ceiling and, in doing so,
Was greeted by the image of your own face
Descending toward you?
Pausing when close enough
To be face to face,
Nose to nose,
Eye to eye,
Breath to breath.
Then falling into you
Like water into a pond.
Indiscernible as you become one…
A mirrored image absorbed by you,
For gain or for loss,
For the greater good
Or the despicably bad
Do you have eyes in the back of your head?
Empowered by your future vision
Which they have stolen and twisted in reverse position,
Watching a trail left behind
That should have been lost
In the blaze of things to come,
Of promise and ambition
And the journey to success.
Do you have a contrary voice?
If so, which speaks clearest?
Which do you believe?
The angel or the devil?
Which overtakes the other?
When the words become intertwined
And in-separate
Like an image falling into the real,
Which sound do you follow?
Which turn do you take?
Somewhere at some time
A mirror cracks.
The image passes through
And is lost within the fabric of your pillow.
Lost in feathery down.
Choking on its guts.
A black gloved hand reaches down
And sweeps your eyelids shut.
Like the image reflected in the shards of mirror
You become fragmented
Before sinking into the numb relief
Of nothingness.
Lost for a time in the suspension
Of temporary death,
Hoping, upon awakening,
To find reconciliation.
Copyright Marc Hawkins 2017
Sep 11, 2017
Sep 11, 2017 at 2:27 AM UTC
i beckon you
i entice and invite
and coax the darkness out
love me
for you are a sinner
just the same as i
the wicked shall inheret the earth
i cannot repent
if sin tastes so despicably sweet
Jun 25, 2018
Jun 25, 2018 at 2:19 AM UTC