"emphatic" poems
He smiles so bright like he has teeth of gold.
Projecting the reflections of his own inceptions.
I'm done grieving the words that once killed the inner me.
Verbally abusive was the past that didn't last.
He shattered my hope like splintered and shattered glass.
As far as the moon is to the sun is he to me.
I can picture his face but to me he's faceless.
His voice is like the echo of a stranger.
He salts his words with flatter,
it doesn't matter, they are tasteless.
His speech is drenched in hypocritical lyricals.
Transmissions of emphatic subliminals
transformed him into an emotional criminal.
If people would obey the limitations of their naive believes.
Maybe they would know that he calls me once a year...
Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 12:39 PM UTC
My father died
from a gun shot wound
to the head
self-inflicted
Don't get all weird about it.
Fathers die
and their passing
though certain
is rarely easy.
So what can I say of this man
so many years
after his emphatic end?
I can say what Whitman said
of Lincoln:
"O Captain, my Captain.
Rise up and hear the bells."
But he will not.
He was ever-present
wise and alert
a boxer in life
a fighter in every way.
And I grew up with the gloves on
quick
elusive
and thanks to him
successful in every ring.
He died
******* on a lit tobacco stick
Emphysema was gonna
take him down
so he pulled his own trigger
saved his family that way
though that's a longer tale
Therefore
and whereas
this is a belated requiem
for a man I loved.
My Captain.
Dear and departed
these many years
may he rest in peace
as he never rested
in life.
Jun 13, 2016
Jun 13, 2016 at 2:54 AM UTC
Malcom was fed 16 bullets because of his. A slug kissed the jaw of King Jr. and silenced him forever. Gandhi shriveled like snakeskin. Joan of Arc became Joan of Ash- so you can understand why Melle Mel was jittery scribbling it all down, on a napkin, at Lucy's Noodle Shop in Harlem. Sweat poured into his green tea. He thought Jesus hanging from the dull wood. Heard about the poet Lorca under an olive tree, shot in the back. Everyone has felt this way through, he thought, never could he have imagined what would happen when he pressed his thumbprint into vinyl. Hip-Hop was still a tadpole. The DJ had just learned to scratch a record and make sounds no ear had never conjugated. How was he to know Tupac and Biggie would follow his lead and get plugged with lead? So he wrote it down, in big curling letters, emphatic: DON'T PUSH ME
Nov 5, 2015
Nov 5, 2015 at 4:42 PM UTC
I am a Province, a State, a Municipality, and a Region.
I am a Soldier, a Pilot, a Minister, and a Legion;
I am a black man, a white man, a brown man, a woman,
A French man, American, Canadian, and Roman.
I am a rap artist, a singer, a slam poet and guitarist;
I dabble in the dark arts accompanied by a Marxist.
I'm a barista, a gas man, a secretary, and Tsarina,
A King and a Queen and a janitorial cleaner.
I am a "lover," a "hater," a "here now" and "there later,"
I am Luke Skywalker, yet at the same time, Lord Vader.
I am a driver, a walker, a rider, a stalker,
A conservative liberal and a well-learned straight-talker.
I am a salesman and clerk,
A criminal and a serf,
The proud owner of a weapon that, while it kills, saves the Earth.
I am a drinker and smoker,
A consumer and broker,
A bomb-maker, con-artist, Priest, and interloper.
I am a Citizen.
Religious and secular,
Macrocosmic, molecular,
Suit wearing, uncaring, emphatic, irregular,
A "packie," a **** a Scrabble fan playing Yahtzee;
A Jihadist, sadistic, addicted to Herodotus,
History is repeated by the philosopher that thought of us.
The eroticist literature towards which we've all lusted;
It looks like the bullets machine-gun is busted.
Indifferent, ecstatic, illicett, erratic,
An infant, a senior, a young man with bad-lip,
A black man, a white man, a brown man, a woman,
A Jew and a Christian, a Muslim musician,
A monarch, elitist, pro-abortion defeatist,
An anarchist, Black Panther, and a rich plutocratic;
I am a citizen,
And as one,
I'm elastic.
Sep 12, 2011
Sep 12, 2011 at 1:35 PM UTC
making sure you could hear me
was never the problem
the problem
was being listened to
i needed to think less about
whether i’m being too
troublesome
and start thinking more about
what i can do to be
influential
i was born to leave
a big crater wherever i stand
a sign that i am just as thundering as you
i construct my words
to be deafening
to make your ears ring and your eyes water
i was taught to make my ideas
the thoughts you lust after
the kind that are both confident and emphatic
because its always better to be
powerful
than to be
voiceless
Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 9:08 AM UTC
My neck noosed
My legs loosed
I witness the tragic
It seems so emphatic
I feel entropy
Enter me
Centering
Around love and pain
I wear gloves of shame
Toxicity taints touch
My reaction is to cautiously recoil
For I feel a great punch
When I expect them to be loyal
A tear rolls down my cheek
Navigating scars
Like a man who is meek
Navigating bars
It starts and stops
Then keeps going
The tears drop
From what I'm knowing
That my time is evaporating
Dealing with the exasperating
I feel I can be caring
I just need the chance
We'll see how I'm fairing
On the end of your lance
Penetrating deeply
The pain is unceasing
Like a thousand bee stings
While you stand there feasting
Making me feel alive
From the pain inside
I guess things could always be worse
Sometimes that feels like a curse
Because I have problems all the same
But it's true
The sum of our troubles equal this game
That we lose
Even though I'd rather deal with *** and silence
Than to be vexed by violence
They're all just ways of imposing our will
Whether it's through who we birth or ****
Conflict is how we get our fill
Every day a different fire drill
We hate each other
We date each other
We underrate each other
To deflate each other
Pain is used as a tool
Until blood lays in a pool
These things that annoy us
Are met by avoidance
These things compound
Until I can't be unwound
I live in a world of contending intentions
It's a world of our own selfish invention
A world that burns bright
So I can't sleep
When day turns to night
I hear death creep
Seeking to take me from a life I never asked for
But I'm grateful to have
Life is about experimenting with opening doors
And I'm stuck in the lab
Feb 18, 2018
Feb 18, 2018 at 9:22 PM UTC
i have 5 -
two by my mouth
two on my cheeks
and one in my chin
(plus others
in places you can't see -
elbows and knees and
secret spots)
and they burst when i smile
and when i cry
and when i speak, the two by my mouth
punctuate what i say,
with little pocks and creases -
puckish and
emphatic.
i have 5
two by my mouth
two on my cheeks
and one in my chin
(plus others
in places you can't see)
Nov 4, 2012
Nov 4, 2012 at 12:35 PM UTC
Places where we go and free our headspace,
spreading our hands and feeling the raindrops.
It felt like an unique amalgamation of fright, fury and pure joy.
Fright of all the obligations barged on the soul.
Fright of not being with the right people at the right time.
Fright of falling on our own feet.
Round & round on the playground,
with an overwhelming typsy feeling.
The joy of sliding on the slippery dip,
touching the sky hanging on the swing.
The breeze touching the feet, playing with the hair & ticking the ears, until we fear to fall on the ground.
The alarming feeling of how precious our life is.
The joy of constantly working on ourselves to improve in life.
The joy of keeping ourselves first.
The joy of not missing out & living in the moment;
The joy of emphatic long conversations,
The joy of selfless efforts with no expectations.
The joy of doing the right things,
always at an unsuitable time;
The joy of being intutive over calculative.
The joy of spending fruitful earnings;
& believing in karma.
Feeling no need to explain our way of doing things
& doing what makes us feel good about ourselves.
Absolute joy of not being too hard on ourselves.
All joyful things go wrong, because it is their job to.
We make all dreadful things right, because it is our job to.
It all makes sense now,
We must get up,
spread your hands,
feel the raindrops,
and say,
“We made it all worth.”
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 6:20 AM UTC
Deeming that I were better dead,
"How shall I **** myself?" I said.
Thus mooning by the river Seine
I sought extinction without pain,
When on a bridge I saw a flash
Of lingerie and heard a splash . . .
So as I am a swimmer stout
I plunged and pulled the poor wretch out.
The female that I saved? Ah yes,
To yield the Morgue of one corpse the less,
Apart from all heroic action,
Gave me a moral satisfaction.
was she an old and withered hag,
Too tired of life to long to lag?
Ah no, she was so young and fair
I fell in love with her right there.
And when she took me to her attic
Her gratitude was most emphatic.
A sweet and simple girl she proved,
Distraught because the man she loved
In battle his life-blood had shed . . .
So I, too, told her of my dead,
The girl who in a garret grey
Had coughed and coughed her life away.
Thus as we sought our griefs to smother,
With kisses we consoled each other . . .
And there's the ending of my story;
It wasn't grim, it wasn't gory.
For comforted were hearts forlorn,
And from black sorrow joy was born:
So may our dead dears be forgiving,
And bless the rapture of the living.
3.4k
The first pair of shoes you wore were black,
velcro straps sat atop your pair of dollies
to make it easier to put them on for the park.
They were meant to be smart, but you laughed
as you wore them against the ground so free
as dad slung the swings, smiling at his child.
Our mum told me I was a creative child:
I didn't like to wear anything black. Red
suited me in how I stood in puddles, free
in indifference to how brown my wellies
became. If I was asked why, I'd shout,
“I'm pretending we're all at the seaside.”
From there we made our way to beaches,
where the wind was crisp and the children
we could see around us acclaimed screams
of emphatic joy at how the sea was so blue
and big. We had to wear pairs of sandals
when we went, but being barefoot felt free.
All that time we had at being young and free
soon went with the summer ending in school,
the arrival of my freshly polished black boots
was identical to almost every other child's-
a lather of paint dripping over in mud yellows
proved who I was with a mother's groan,
and this wasn't the only time she wailed.
As we grew older and wanted to be free,
my sister started to experiment with pink
highlights in her hair as I visited clubs
with fake ID. We were adults with childish
personalities in how I wore my Docs
like a religion for feet, my sibling in high heels
that you could hear in Sunday morning claps.
The arguments broke out: she wanted a child,
mother saying was too young, needed to free
herself from lazy culture and find a workplace.
I'd never seen both their faces so gushed red,
just like the red richness of those wellies
I had worn in the park. I pipe up and say,
“The best freedom is our time as children.”
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 3:09 PM UTC
He brings you candy
Your heart is melt
He portrays all good
Your soul is deceived
Arent you all aware?
Whenever he is around
The devil inside him
Hidden in white silky suits
All Praises and false promises
A mask of love , hidden agenda
To deceive your very soul
He sits and he waits
To devour you whole
Till You sell your soul
A wolf in sheep's clothing
The purest and the white
Covering all the filth
And the evils underneath
He sweet talks and seek
Whom he may devour
Symphatize not, emphatic may be?
But mostly to realize
The blood and power
Dont you want to know
The truth of this mask?
A wolf in sheep's clothing
The father of all sin
God is always fair and he always listens
Sins will be exposed , now or in the future
Then you all will see
Who is the real wolf in sheep's clothing...
May 18, 2013
May 18, 2013 at 8:56 PM UTC
There's that sunset
Where you'd
Look
upon
The horizon
and watch the sky
pull a symphony of colors
Where the atmosphere and clouds
simply refract light;
creating an array of complex hues
the sky became emphatic
to show off it's beauty
That was today
There's that sunset
Where you'd
Look
Upon
The horizon
And see the clouds move
slowly and yet hastily
And despite the Coriolis,
the clouds form shapes
And represent
such figures to you
whether human, animal, or object
It reminds you of
memories, places, people
That was today
There's that sunset
Where you'd
Look
Upon
The horizon
And just look at the grandeur of it
Where you cannot tell where
The sky ends and the earth begins
no trace of the sun nor the moon
Like the earth felt God's redamancy
and God felt the Earth's
and our worlds finally became one
That was today
There's that sunset
Where you'd
Look
Upon
The horizon
And the moment you lay your eyes Upon it
all the questions, all the queries
finally become answered to
like quantum theory and "beauty"
ultimately became understood
like you now have an answer
to your most enigmatic problem
That was today
I looked upon that sunset
I have an answer
I finally have an answer
I now have an answer
That was today
Aug 2, 2015
Aug 2, 2015 at 11:41 AM UTC
Do not shy away
From expressing your feelings
For they are true callings
From the heart waiting for audience
Samaritans are there
In the realm of your positive vibes
Your plea shall reach
Waiting to congregate at the place
Where all souls shall meet
Exchanging each other’s feelings
Emphatic chants of happiness
Shall reverberate everywhere
Outside your realm
True callings will impact the hearts
Which have forgotten to empathize
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 7:33 AM UTC
The Drawer of Mermaids
by Michael R. Burch
This poem is dedicated to Alina Karimova, who was born with severely deformed legs and five fingers missing. Alina loves to draw mermaids and believes her fingers will eventually grow out.
Although I am only four years old,
they say that I have an old soul.
I must have been born long, long ago,
here, where the eerie mountains glow
at night, in the Urals.
A madman named Geiger has cursed these slopes;
now, shut in at night, the emphatic ticking
fills us with dread.
(Still, my momma hopes
that I will soon walk with my new legs.)
It’s not so much legs as the fingers I miss,
drawing the mermaids under the ledges.
(Observing, Papa will kiss me
in all his distracted joy;
but why does he cry?)
And there is a boy
who whispers my name.
Then I am not lame;
for I leap, and I follow.
(G’amma brings a wiseman who says
our infirmities are ours, not God’s,
that someday a beautiful Child
will return from the stars,
and then my new fingers will grow
if only I trust Him; and so
I am preparing to meet Him, to go,
should He care to receive me.)
Keywords/Tags: mermaid, mermaids, child, children, childhood, Urals, Ural Mountains, soul, soulmate, radiation
Jan 17, 2023
Jan 17, 2023 at 2:08 AM UTC
A visible shroud, all over me it says JOY.
In the crypt of a vampire, immense, hoisted bat entrails.
It's a kite, he is making, the wind wants to feel it.
The wind likes to move about, implore.
Prevailing winds, guide the rope's direction.
I strove for freedom more than before, forgot limits,
Now the kite can fly beyond the night, it will be jealous,
High above, in the sky, untouched by evil pride.
I am not soft hearted, prone to emphatic shivers,
But in a thousand pieces I hear every sound.
I love this earth and am reminded by the sights below,
All the birds of various descriptions, fly too,
those feather fingered sisters, they are often in pain,
Like farmers milling the sky underwing.
A cloud is a wall, then a room of purest white,
On fly the birds and on flies the kite,
On many lands falls our shade, life is below,
Now is the time to be soft hearted, swirl in torrents.
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 2:10 PM UTC
To my dear son, Boaz in distant Idaho,
Saturday nite, the whole of New Zealand waited in apprehension for the All Blacks rugy team to play the resurgent Wallabys @ Fortress Eden Park.
The previous week at Suncorp Stadium in Sydney, in driving rain, the All Blacks muddled through a painfull draw with the Wallabys, 12 points each with no tries.
The Wallabys had fancied their chances and had wanted an emphatic win on home soil.
Both teams took that score as a loss and the gauntlet was thrown for the second match…..
A brilliant evening, clear and fine , 50,000 people crushed in to Eden Park and you could feel the apprehension, the rest of the country sat in front of their TV willing the team on.
The Haka was given a brutal rendition, you could feel the determination, the passion emanating….the Ozzies glared their defiance back…it was all on!
10 minutes into a titanic struggle with the score three all Captain Ritchie McCaw had a brain fade and was yellow carded off for ten minutes by the French referee.
The crowd roared…then murmured their worry like you’ve never heard before.
The Ozzies mustered a huge scrum which the All Blacks countered with one man down…. The counter ****** pushed the Australian scrum back 15 ft.
Every man in New Zealand was on his feet roaring, you could feel the spirit of nationalism soaring….the moment was a watershed.
The All Blacks counterattacked showing a brilliance in attack and defence we have not seen for years… and from that moment on the game was won.
Final score 51:20 The Bledisloe Cup was ours.
As the match finished the TV camera panned across the solidly black clad crowd…. I have never, ever in my life, seen so many, simultaneous, sets of white teeth grinning!
The trip home to Australia would have been… a very subdued affair.
Thought I should share this marvellous moment with you Boaz.
Luv Dad.
Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 4:28 PM UTC
"She is so cute!"
said the grand mother type
in McDonalds today.
**"Yes I have heard that said.
Every where we go."**
Miss Personality makes
an impression...
on the young and the old.
Purely unintentional.
Little head strong at times.
Mostly when awake.
She will go far.
Disagreements with Nana
can be fun at times,
'"Lucy! Don't do that! No!"
Can ping pong three times.
Then must stop. Or else!
On hearing the verbal
exchange between
the two one day
Gpa asked Miss Lucy,
**"What part of 'NO'
do you not understand?"**
The reply coming from
Miss Congeniality was an
emphatic "The N."
Gpa left the room.
Laughing held to elsewhere.
Reporting to Nana.
She is cute at times.
Four now...
going on fourteen.
But still cute.
Dec 12, 2013
Dec 12, 2013 at 10:02 PM UTC
754
My Life had stood—a Loaded Gun—
In Corners—till a Day
The Owner passed—identified—
And carried Me away—
And now We roam in Sovereign Woods—
And now We hunt the Doe—
And every time I speak for Him—
The Mountains straight reply—
And do I smile, such cordial light
Upon the Valley glow—
It is as a Vesuvian face
Had let its pleasure through—
And when at Night—Our good Day done—
I guard My Master’s Head—
’Tis better than the Eider-Duck’s
Deep Pillow—to have shared—
To foe of His—I’m deadly foe—
None stir the second time—
On whom I lay a Yellow Eye—
Or an emphatic Thumb—
Though I than He—may longer live
He longer must—than I—
For I have but the power to ****
Without—the power to die—
2.3k
Did you just ask me out?
Tryin' to ply me with flowers!
Well nice try, Mister Aquaman,
But get some super powers.
A girl like me can't risk it,
I ain't no downtown baby!
Your devotion and a dollar, sir,
Would buy me a coffee, maybe.
You know it's true, this rump's too fine,
For your sweaty meat hooks there;
It's something else you'll have to grip,
Don't feel the need to share.
Well there's my flight, my throne in the sky;
I look down in safety as the peasants roll by,
I know they'd like to spin a slice of my pie,
But this pie in the sky is priced too **** high!
Back on my island, beach volleyball season.
Which color bikini? Somethin' right for some breezin'
Or just playin' naked, I don't need no **** reason!
My big ******* out for some major crowd pleasin'!
Well that was sure fun, a day in the sun!
I didn't forget you, Mr. Pop Gun;
You would have loved it, this tan honey bun,
But you ain't been swimmin'; you're dry as a nun.
Before I forget you, just thought you should know:
This booty's so fly, it's pressurized, yo
And though upon you this hot wind won't blow,
You can ask "Would she love me?" An emphatic no.
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 6:46 AM UTC
Got no Amber or her sagely advice!
She's off to an improvement course
for aspiring plantsmen.
The weekends don't have
to be set in stone,
theres importance in independent thinking,
its not to be feared.
Buy some feed for the pigeons
decide between euphorbia or
euphoria
the difference is emphatic
and see what comes.
Jul 19, 2013
Jul 19, 2013 at 4:15 PM UTC
There are crickets in my room
Somewhere not reached by my broom
They keep chirping
To alert me
Of what hurts me
They’ve made a mess
In my nest
But I can’t find it
To confine it
Like I’m blinded
Mistakes were made
Hurting my name
Bringing me shame
So I live in a grave
Where crickets lay
They can’t be slain
So their noise remains
The crickets are beckoning
Bringing my reckoning
With a sound that’s threatening
Because it’s so deafening
The crickets infest my home
So I’m never really alone
They live in my basement and attic
Chirping until I’ve finally had it
I jump out my window like a rabbit
To avoid their noise so emphatic
But out here the crickets sing prouder
With a chorus that’s even louder
The crickets buzz like an alarm
Reminding me of my harm
They’ll sing for me to disarm
Until I change or wither
So I’m a plagued sinner
Who’ll never be a winner
Wrestling with damage inner
I eluded their noise
So nukes were deployed
And my nation destroyed
By a sound that annoyed
Me until I couldn’t avoid
Not being conscience devoid
I ask for forgiveness
All I hear are crickets
And cops giving tickets
In this concrete thicket
That I need to picket
Jun 10, 2019
Jun 10, 2019 at 9:55 PM UTC
As silence sets in your heart
You are aware of the feelings
And the mind becomes agile
The calming effect of silence
Will help to rearrange beliefs
Silence is the subconscious
Speaks louder than words
It is built on a solid foundation
Firm against sinister forces
Silence is a bundle of energy
It withstands barrage of baloney
Unwavering support of silence
Cocoons the soul in happiness
Silence is retaliation
Of the soul which is strong
Only the strong can wield silence
To make an emphatic statement
Silence is not absence of action
Words are a spent force
When it holds no meaning
Some, hiding behind its guile
Douse the ominous intentions
With silence as your defense
Silence is deafening to a noisy world
© Amitav (Radiance)
May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 1:54 AM UTC
Push, Pull, Click, Click.........and so the Instructions , so Plainly Printed on the Silky Smooth Paper, *SHOUTED-OUT to the User. The User, Pondering in His Best State of Mind, Glared back at the SHOUTING black letters on the Silky smooth Paper. Are they serious, He wondered ? Should I actually do EACH of these steps in Exactly the Order in which they are Presented ? What would happen if I Suddenly , as if I had been Engrossed in some Deep thought, TOTALLY disregarded the Emphatic instructions? The User, not accustomed to such vivid instructions, was at a Quandary as to what to do ! ! Being an Observer of the Satirical Right, Could the User in such an Abrupt state of Mind, Actually curb his intentions, and TOTALLY ignore the Now Blatantly LOUD Instructions ! SUCH Simple instructions to follow,, OR so the Outline implied ! Simply start at Step #A, then proceed to Step #B and so on and so on.... ALL the way to the End and to the FULL completion of said Task. That's All there was TO-IT ! ! but, the words of INSTRUCTION, Now cut-back at each glance with a much Sharper Edge now, Making the reading a TASK of Monumental effort. Push, pull, click, click.. Just that Simple, Printed right there in Black and White, in BOLD Classic letter style for the user to read and complete. _____WHY were the Words now *SCREAMING? and even *YELLING ? All I simply tried to do, MUSED the User, was to "DO-IT"---"MY WAY"--! But NO, the next thing I know , crowing out his words, Here come these words Screaming and yelling, Just like they DIDN'T have anything better to do ! ! Why Me. the User was now complaining, Why Oh, Why Oh ME? _____"WHY-NOT" Blared out the Instructions on the Silky Smooth Paper ? *As the EXPLOSION ripped thru the building , Shattering windows as far as 3 miles away. He COMPLETED the Instructions, inserted KEY in door and walked OUT to SAFETY ~ Glancing Back , HE GLARED at the Smoldering Remnants of INSTRUCTIONS ,, THROWING OFF SPARKS, "AS IF IN DEFIANCE"___of those who *FOLLOW-INSTRUCTIONS"
Dec 29, 2010
Dec 29, 2010 at 3:34 AM UTC
At the rising of the sun and at it's going down,
We remember them.
At the blowing of the wind and in the chill of the winter,
We remember them.
At the opening of the buds and the rebirth of Spring,
We remember them.
At the blueness of the skies and in the warmth of summer,
We remember them.
At the rustling of the leaves and in the beauty of autumn,
We remember them.
At the beginning of the year and when it ends,
We remember them.
As we celebrate Christmas and welcome in the New Year,
We remember them.
When we welcome the first cries of a newborn,
We remember them.
When we say our farewells at a funeral,
We remember them.
When we smell the aroma of their favorite food,
We remember them.
In the still of the night and in the darkness of our rooms,
We remember them.
As long as we live, they too will live, for they are now a part of us as,
We remember them.
When we are weary and in need of strength,
We remember them.
When we are lost and sick at heart,
We remember them.
When we are hearts are filled with joy and crave to share,
We remember them.
When we have decisions that are difficult to make,
We remember them.
When our achievements are based on theirs,
We remember them.
When we need a healing hand,
We remember them.
When we need a shoulder to lay our weary heads on
We remember them.
When we are in need of an emphatic ear to listen to our woes of distress,
We remember them.
When we hear the laughter of a child,
We remember them.
As long as we live, they too will live, for they are now part of us as,
We remember them.
By
Mayra Castillo
Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 9:26 PM UTC