"envenom" poems
Oh, factious viper! whose envenom’d tooth
Would mangle, still, the dead, perverting truth;
What, though our “nation’s foes” lament the fate,
With generous feeling, of the good and great;
Shall dastard tongues essay to blast the name
Of him, whose meed exists in endless fame?
When PITT expir’d in plenitude of power,
Though ill success obscur’d his dying hour,
Pity her dewy wings before him spread,
For noble spirits “war not with the dead:”
His friends in tears, a last sad requiem gave,
As all his errors slumber’d in the grave;
He sunk, an Atlas bending “’neath the weight”
Of cares o’erwhelming our conflicting state.
When, lo! a Hercules, in Fox, appear’d,
Who for a time the ruin’d fabric rear’d:
He, too, is fall’n, who Britain’s loss supplied,
With him, our fast reviving hopes have died;
Not one great people, only, raise his urn,
All Europe’s far-extended regions mourn.
“These feelings wide, let Sense and Truth undue,
To give the palm where Justice points its due;”
Yet, let not canker’d Calumny assail,
Or round her statesman wind her gloomy veil.
FOX! o’er whose corse a mourning world must weep,
Whose dear remains in honour’d marble sleep;
For whom, at last, e’en hostile nations groan,
While friends and foes, alike, his talents own.—
Fox! shall, in Britain’s future annals, shine,
Nor e’en to PITT, the patriot’s ‘palm’ resign;
Which Envy, wearing Candour’s sacred mask,
For PITT, and PITT alone, has dar’d to ask.
1.2k
it's no lie when I said that I felt eternity
but I always did nothing but repeatedly make you sad.
please let me sleep with your name resounding in my head
the passing days
the weeks and months
they drew us apart
your name hurts my mouth when I speak it out loud
the name which i can not call out
it burns my lips when I whisper
we were looking for the the others faults when
we should have looked at each other
my limbs are trembling to the sound of storm
hitting the glass of my window
the sound of it kills the silence
the tranquility I seek
the repose I need
I don't want you to fade
even though the last memories of you
envenom my insides
like a snakebite
my body is rotting away, returning me to earth
she embraces me like a mother
I want to hear, even a sigh
a small hearbeat that isn't and won't be there
that little rythm
my nightmares are unchanging
the drowning days
their weight piles up on me
a burden.
the spider lily is in bloom
the moon will fall
this second winter is standing still
spring will not come again
it's cold but I won't lock the door.
Maybe you'll come.
Maybe spring will be with you.
Jul 31, 2015
Jul 31, 2015 at 5:31 PM UTC
Turn around as the moments pause
as fullstops escape a rooted fool
watching the admiration melt
those words that flow to silence
from a ****** to the verified meanders
every time now and again the bitter taste
acclimatise the altitude of my brains
far beyond any bearable responses
of the tiny tiny teases and leases
The rope is stricken in handheld tickets
roaring as the rocket of emotions pocket
sirens picket setting the rotten resistance
one that is quieter than the quiet quoted
as the phrases evaporate in misty clouds
remnants of sweetness decant unknown
the pace slows and the taste envenom
painting the blues in a pungent smile
Mar 8, 2018
Mar 8, 2018 at 1:21 PM UTC