"fanatic" poems
She stands before the class
Her voice rings loud and clear
Each word beautifully enunciated
For all who wish to hear
The perennial English teacher
She reads with such dramatics and flair
Such a pity that its only noticed
by students in the first few chairs
She's reading out my poem
She paints pictures with her words
But honestly? Sometimes I find
Her explanations quite absurd
No, That's not what I meant!
Dear teacher, stop twisting my verse!
Dear students, please notice the flaws
In the story she so carefully rehearsed
It's amazing how sometimes she understands
The thought and feelings of what I wrote
And sometimes she gets it so very wrong
That I want to strangle her throat
She continues unperturbed
By the lack of interest in the room
Students only see her smile and energy
Not her disappointment and gloom
She worked so hard to teach them,
A little appreciation would go far!
But they just sit and pretend to listen
As they wait for the end for the hour
Finally, she comes across
That fateful line
The one that sparks a discussion
I watch the class come to life
In a tsunami of opinions,
She smiles proudly, riding the wave
She launches into her explanation
And it's the completely wrong one she gave
Its one of many misinterpretations
Of my carefully crafted work
There! That student! She understands what I meant!
Now now, don't tell her she's wrong. Don't be a ****
A debate ensues and words fly
The classroom divides into two.
Half are on my side, dear teacher
And the other half believe you.
Out of the blue, the bell rings
For once the students want more time!
A pat on the back for the English teacher.
This victory is both hers and mine
So what if she gets it wrong sometimes?
So what what if she's too dramatic?
Sometimes she's just unreasonable
She's your average literature fanatic
She always gets her point across
Without having to scream and shout
She teaches the students the value of words
Isn't that what it's all about?
Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 10:21 AM UTC
Subdued and seduced by sounds so sultry
floating with fantastic phonetic finesse
vibrant voices vehicled via visages
the magical message making me a mess
each seconds surrenders me speechless
praying for the process of progress
kissing, caressing, conspire in concision
affection and adoration an admirable ambition
Subdued and seduced by sounds so sultry
floating with fantastic phonetic finesse
vibrant voices vehicled via visages
the magical message making me a mess
beautiful belles becoming begrime
rendered ready by my written rhyme
won with wonderfully whispered wit
foment flattery in a fanatic fit
Subdued and seduced by sounds so sultry
floating with fantastic phonetic finesse
vibrant voices vehicled via visages
the magical message making me a mess
Sep 11, 2010
Sep 11, 2010 at 5:39 PM UTC
They cry for Nationalism
and they seek purity
but all they will find
is ****** and pride
We all want our
individuality
We all want our
sense of being
However,
these fanatic imbeciles
do not realise
that in order to achieve
individuality
we need to achieve
understanding
in being
an individual.
Jan 19, 2011
Jan 19, 2011 at 6:22 AM UTC
I'm not looking for love,
Not even one fanatic idea,
But somebody I could talk to,
About things most consider a trivia,
I want to celebrate small things,
Share the moon in the sky,
Find happiness in our old habits,
Silly ranting, overeating, being shy,
A place far away from this town,
Where the clouds are clear and white,
Weekends under the lights –in the city,
Laughing away the fuss everytime we fight,
Nights discussing the dark theories there have been,
And many more yet to come,
Cold feet –the sound of burning fire,
Face glowing with smiles until it goes numb
Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 8:03 AM UTC
Genial poets, pink-faced
earnest wits—
you have given the world
some choice morsels,
gobbets of language presented
as one presents T-bone steak
and Cherries Jubilee.
Goodbye, goodbye,
I don’t care
if I never taste your fine food again,
neutral fellows, seers of every side.
Tolerance, what crimes
are committed in your name.
And you, good women, bakers of nicest bread,
blood donors. Your crumbs
choke me, I would not want
a drop of your blood in me, it is pumped
by weak hearts, perfect pulses that never
falter: irresponsive
to nightmare reality.
It is my brothers, my sisters,
whose blood spurts out and stops
forever
because you choose to believe it is not your business.
Goodbye, goodbye,
your poems
shut their little mouths,
your loaves grow moldy,
a gulf has split
the ground between us,
and you won’t wave, you’re looking
another way.
We shan’t meet again—
unless you leap it, leaving
behind you the cherished
worms of your dispassion,
your pallid ironies,
your jovial, murderous,
wry-humored balanced judgment,
leap over, un-
balanced? ... then
how our fanatic tears
would flow and mingle
for joy ...
5.3k
I was about five years old when you came into my life.
I still remember the night you drove home with us and I was too scared to fall asleep in the car because I didn't want you to hear me snoring.
My mom was a statue fanatic, all over our house were statues she bought from the different countries she would visit - I was terrified of them. I remember the way you would carry me to bed at night and you would take me around the whole house to say goodnight to each statue in our house, they didn't seem that scary when I was in your arms.
I still remember the way you would walk me to preschool, you didn't mind that the 15 minute walk would take us over an hour, you didn't mind that I would want to stop and look at every single flower, every single bird, that I would want to know about every single type of tree. You held my hand and patiently told me all you knew.
I still remember the way it felt to finally have something constant in my life. Having a mother who is always travelling is difficult, not living with my dad was difficult, out of everything that was going on in my life, out of everyone who was always leaving me you continued to stay.
I still remember you being there for my first date, my mom was travelling but you were there. I was so nervous. I have super curly hair and I wanted to make it straight like the pretty girls in the magazine, I thought I knew what I was doing but I tangled my hair and a huge brush got caught in it. The only option was to cut it out - oh how I cried, it was my first date and I would arrive bald. But you held my hand, cut my hair and made me feel pretty regardless of my now uneven curls.
I still remember when my first boyfriend broke up with me, naturally my mother wasn't there and so the person who watched me cry was you.
And then my second boyfriend broke up with me, and you were the one who came running into my room and gave me advice. You were the one who I cried to.
I loved you so much that I would choose my mother over you.
I loved you so much that I wanted you on my one hand, and my dad on the other hand, walking me down the isle at my wedding.
I loved you so much and then you broke me.
I won't go into the details for both your sake and mine - but it kills me to know that you do not see this.
It kills me to know that you don't even know who I am anymore.
It kills me to know that whatever I say or do you cannot see the damage that has been caused.
It kills me to know that you probably do not even care.
It kills me to know that you blame me for my mothers absence.
You blame me for the love that you two no longer share.
You blame me for the way in which my mother was forced to work like a dog in order to support our entire family.
It kills me.
At the end of the day I can't shed anymore tears over this.
I can't tell you how much I hurt.
I can't describe the pain it feels to have a parent no longer want to be a part of your life for no particular reason other than ego.
Jul 14, 2016
Jul 14, 2016 at 6:33 AM UTC
You are the velvet to my lace, the freckles on your face, the rocket to outer space when i’m forgetting why my feet need to hit the ground.
You are three seconds away from a sunrise when I desperately need the light, you are a cup of tea and wisdom, and you are a giggle at just the right moment while the blood exchanges ideas between my wide-eyed fanatic manic panic mind and my static acrobatic heart.
You are love and a smile when everything around has fallen dark. We fall down the seasons, each leaf turned to green as the time is subjective as valued.
we fall down the winter of broken glass and torn kneecaps and into the summer of understanding and patched hearts.
We fall down the stairs of the boy who was the blank slate and into the arms of the boy who painted his stone happy.
You are the living room of my soul, where all the pictures make us smile just to look at them and the quilt on the couch is beautiful enough to make up for the small tear in the corner. Where the cups of tea sipped are innumerable as the curls on your head and the watercolor windows open past our souls and into our worlds.
Someday we’ll be able to keep track of our socks and get enough sleep but right now I’m still figuring it out. I’m still trying to connect the sky to the tree to the earth to the tesseracted interaction theatrical statement of who I am and what I will be. We will become.
Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 11:28 PM UTC
the tides swell
and hearts quell
my body shakes in anticipation
of profund ecstasy of liberation
and not the emptiness of libations
the bright moon light keeps the revelers out
thirsting for soemthing they cannot name
in a drunken fanatic frenzy they shout
claiming a new change in life when they remain the same
the ocean waves crash
and so do my thoughts
an uncontrollable maelstrom that spreads like a rash
only to find peace in the still silence I've always sought
Finally I am home and I bask in the light of the full moon
I too was a reveled once howling at the moon
but now instead I drink in the spirit of life
I might have spoke too soon
because my heart still feels stife
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 12:03 AM UTC
It goes( as it
always goes, to )
: ! PENALTIES !
A chorus of "Oh Noooos'!"
rises from the fans like
winter breath from cattle
Hamlet, places it:
...steps back to take it
&. . .
"Do it England!"
the fanatic fans chant
"Dooooo....Itttt...Angle...la...and!"
Hamlet thinks
( No...nOOOO Hamlet don't
. . .think! )
But it is alas -too late
he has
already thunked!
"If it be now, 'tis not
to come; if it be not to come
it will be now!"
"Duh!" the fans think
"Agggghh...just
do it!"
The thoughts sprout
from his great big noggin like
a cartoon speech bubble.
"...if it be now now
yet
it will come!"
"The readiness is all!"
Hamlet runs up to
the waiting ball.
Hamlet hushes his
thought process
strikes the ball with his right foot &. . .
"To be or, aggggghhhh noooooo!"
After that comma that
negative sentence.
'NOT TO BE!"
jeer the rival fans
'GIT THEEEE...TOA...NONE...ER...EEE!"
Hamlet ends it all
with a bare bodkin.
"O, O, O, O." Dies
"Football is not...."
as Shankly so succinctly
put it
"...a matter of life and death.
It's. . .
much much more important than that!"
The rest.
Is.
silence.
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 5:09 PM UTC
My manner of thinking, so you say, cannot be approved.
Do you suppose I care? A poor fool indeed is he who adopts a manner of thinking for others! My manner of thinking stems straight from my considered reflections: it holds with my existence, with the way I am made. It is not in my power to alter it; and were it, I’d not do so. These manners of thinking you find fault with is my sole consolation in life; it alleviates all my sufferings in prison, it composes all my pleasures in the world outside; it is dearer to me than life itself. Not my manner of thinking but the manner of thinking of others has been the source of my unhappiness. The reasoning man who scorns the prejudices of simpletons necessarily becomes the enemy of simpletons; he must expect as much, and laugh at the inevitable. A traveler journeys along a fine road. It has been strewn with traps. He falls into one. Do you say it is the traveler's fault, or that of the scoundrel who lays the trap? If then, as you tell me are willing to restore my liberty if I am willing to pay for it by the sacrifice of my principles or my tastes, we may bid one another an eternal adieu, for rather than part with those, I would sacrifice a thousand lives and a thousand liberties, if I had them. These principals and these tastes, I am their fanatic adherent; and fanaticism in me is the product of persecutions I have endured from my tyrants. The longer they continue their vexations, the deeper they root my principles in my heart, and I openly declare that no one need talk to me of liberty if it is offered to me only in return for their destruction.
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 5:04 AM UTC
two Americans and three Indians
Came to my house.yesterday.
Four of them were men
And one of them a woman
They were all shedding blood
I asked the Americans , “ What
Happened to you?” Our fellow
White Americans fired at us”
Why? “I asked most innocently”
They said, ‘we fought indiscrimination
Against the blacks and for their equality”
I asked the Indians, Why are all bleeding?
“The religious fanatics belonging to our
Religion fired at us’ .The two Indian men said.
A Sikh fanatic shot at me indiscriminately”
He was my own body Guard too.”
The Indian woman said painfully.
Coincidentally all the five came
From the two great democracies
Democracy means” killing the
Great leaders and shedding their blood.”
I woke up from the dream
But I had the great opportunity
Of talking to five noble souls
Mar 1, 2011
Mar 1, 2011 at 7:35 PM UTC
*You know if you are generous
and your read this poem
Please click the love button
It's love as easy as
One two three
Why are we stingy
When it comes to love
We are worried
The other person is
going to break our heart
Let's free up
ourselves and love
without conditions
I dare you click
the love button
If you read this far
then you are
a poetry fanatic
or some addict
of some sort
Release your anger
on the love button
and let it splurge
Thank you for your time
I hope you enjoyed my spam*
Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 10:11 PM UTC
It’s something about the
way you say pathetic,
the words sting and burn
like the shots of a diabetic.
Overused and undervalued
by a simply judged fanatic.
The looks you cast,
as I slink past,
are all but few and
far between,
let alone sporadic.
May 5, 2012
May 5, 2012 at 2:16 PM UTC
I RANTED to the knave and fool,
But outgrew that school,
Would transform the part,
Fit audience found, but cannot rule
My fanatic heart.
I sought my betters: though in each
Fine manners, liberal speech,
Turn hatred into sport,
Nothing said or done can reach
My fanatic heart,
Out of Ireland have we come.
Great hatred, little room,
Maimed us at the start.
I carry from my mother's womb
A fanatic heart.
3.4k
Hi it's the Devil dropping by
Big *** sigh
No longer do I wonder why
Angels burn while Hell does turn
Cold like my heart
Still I yearn
I'm a Fiction fanatic
Words are my magic
Hair stands up from the static
Hate me lovely
Beautiful is ugly
What eyes behold
Go ahead judge me
I want to care
My heart wont dare
Still I look
Can't help to stare
From afar
A distant star
Reality a reflection of what we are
I am here
You are there
I can rip
You can tear
Open up to fantasy
Door from you
Straight to me
Twist the ****
Drop on by
Spark up a bowl
We can get high
Vibe together side by side
When inside you can't hide
Truth today told a lie
No good in bye
Instead I say Hi..
Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 8:19 PM UTC
I was possessed by a demon so lazy,
He left the Priest feeling slightly hazy.
He wanted some ecclesiastical action,
But this Demon didn't give him no satisfaction.
My Priest said "you've got to stick it to him!"
So I took us both to the local gym.
I did some cardio and did some weights,
I stayed there until really very late.
Finally, when doing some cross-training,
My chest started straining,
And a voice (not mine) wailed like a Banshee,
"The power of exercise compels me!"
So that was how my Demon was exorcised;
Bloodless, sweaty Holy exercise.
Now I'm a major fitness fanatic
Thanks to forces oh so Satanic!
Sep 9, 2018
Sep 9, 2018 at 3:57 PM UTC
Kickin' all the way the Live Coolio
deep in ya Culo/
it's that Boy Yosef comin' with major Flavas/
with so Many Styles more than a Hair Doo Voodoo/
got ya eyes on ya know Who?/
so many ****** wanna Smoke me
Cuz im the New Joint/
puttin' sparks to ya Head ****** Red/
if u thinkin' about Frontin'' Me/
ill make u Crossover like EPMD/
Rap Fanatic since i was Swimmin' in the Nut Sack the Mack Attack/
hittin' all your perspectives
im takin' out all the Primitives/
in the Rap Game Shoot ya Stick
try again my- Flows erected as a ****
in between ***** *****
so take Chance it ya Want/
Watch the gun taunt
in ya Face a sad Disgrace/
Slappin' a new taste
in ya Mouth i Dropped it
my Style can't be Competed
you Obsoleted
i'm Makin Profits the Funk Baby!!!!
Many Emcees sweet as a KitKats
so cut the Chit Chat/
cuz im bout to Splatter their careers into pieces
Gotthem Envisionin' Doubles
like Noah i Told ya
the Tru Soldier Rollin' Dogia/
marchin' to the Beat with my Vocal
a Tru Loco/
when i'm sippin E & J **** an Airplay pinin' Indo/
playin' suckas close like who's holdin' the most/
weight? Pushin' rhymes like weights
Loots stay Connected like freight Train Crates/i Dominate from all states
that's why they Call Me All-State/
but ya Ain't in Good Hands
-tryna Step to the Big Man
keep u heated galore like Afghanistan gettin' in that *** like Sand/
so take Stand and a Bow cuz im the Prowl/
for that Number One Slot
ya rhymes loose as Jar Jelly
**** what the critics tell me
"Mr Big Stuff" girls call me "Heavy D"
From then shaft that lays between me
the Funk Baby!!!
Oct 8, 2016
Oct 8, 2016 at 10:36 AM UTC
HAMLET AT THE WORLD CUP
It goes( as it
always goes, to )
: ! PENALTIES !
A chorus of "Oh Noooos'!"
rises from the fans like
winter breath from cattle
Hamlet, places it:
...steps back to take it
&. . .
"Do it England!"
the fanatic fans chant
"Dooooo....Itttt...Angle...la...and!"
Hamlet thinks
( No...nOOOO Hamlet don't
. . .think! )
But it is alas -too late
he has
already thunked!
"If it be now, 'tis not
to come; if it be not to come
it will be now!"
"Duh!" the fans think
"Agggghh...just
do it!"
The thoughts sprout
from his great big noggin like
a cartoon speech bubble.
"...if it be not now
yet
it will come!"
"The readiness is all!"
Hamlet runs up to
the waiting ball.
Hamlet hushes his
thought process
strikes the ball with his right foot &. . .
"To be or, aggggghhhh noooooo!"
After that comma that
negative sentence.
'NOT TO BE!"
jeer the rival fans
'GIT THEEEE...TOA...NONE...ER...EEE!"
Hamlet ends it all
with a bare bodkin.
"O, O, O, O." Dies
"Football is not...."
as Shankly so succinctly
put it
"...a matter of life and death.
It's. . .
much much more important than that!"
The rest.
Is.
silence.
Jun 17, 2018
Jun 17, 2018 at 5:59 PM UTC
**** day freestyle nonsense
Light a candle and burn the canvas
as I take advantage of my madness
I'm about to knock the planet off of it's axis
just the facts, I dont preach what I practice
the high point, the max, the vastness
bad habits like a back sliding Baptist
hail Mary, masses like a catholic
fast to put a fanatic in a casket
pass the tray to the congregation
time to pay the raging Caucasian
no need to pray, just face the creation
as we embrace this greatest occasion
Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 11:32 AM UTC
I live my life the way I want
and I don't care what others think or chant.
Accept me or reject me.
I am shy, I am humble and I am kind,
but harsh and blunt may my enemies find.
Accept me or reject me.
Many call me bigot and fanatic for passion I show towards my religion
but i don't care, I am ready to defend it in every season and in all condition.
Accept me or reject me.
I am an introvert and live mostly on my own,
that doesn't mean I am unfriendly and to my friends its known and shown.
Accept me or reject me.
I like Dosas, biryani, nehari and chicken fry.
but I am always prepared for salt and roti dry.
Accept me or reject me.
I am no saint, I do mistakes and then I regret,
but I am always ready to forgive and forget.
Accept me or reject me.
I try to speak the truth and sometimes it is very sour
I will continue that way, whether you declare a war, or put me behind bar.
Accept me or reject me.
I keep my distance from disco, cigarette, girls and liquor, that's not my way and that's not my style,
for which my friend's make my fun, but I ignore them all with a smile.
Accept me or reject me.
This is my story and this is my tale
It is for you all, and it is not for sale.
Accept me or reject me.
I love my prophet(pbuh) and I love Allah,
I am Muhammad Asadullah.
Accept me or reject me.
Accept me or reject me.
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 3:12 AM UTC
Grievous grace, has due yesterday’s blue
Autonomous avarice enigma entity’s hue
Identity crisis guidon guile’s due
Mystic symbiosis’ existential true
Apostrophe sabbat transcendental kitsch
Consortium liaison’s libido’s glitch
Translucent opulence’s lambent’s a *****
Metaphysical mystique is black as pitch
Terrestrial equestrian tellurian's terrene
Adamant tenacity’s obtusely obscene
Obstinate loquacity spiritually serene
Maniacally meticulous dexterity’s preen
Lucid cogent fecund’s maieutic
Incarnate’s manumissional eidetic
Spatiotemporal telemetry’s fanatic
Logistical tactician’s primal ecstatic
Chicanery dynamism’s opulent fealty
Intrinsic innate retrospective cruelty
Indigenous endemic inherent frailty
Corrupt costume counselor subtlety
Gambit alluvium aloof impunity
Immunity is epicurian absurdity
Who are we to us credulity
Nimbus nimiety nihilism’s congruity
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 8:39 AM UTC
Have you tasted jealously ?
its like a misshapen stomach
that swallowed jellied biros .
Are you lacking in choreography,
where your own walk
should be the more significant dance
rather than the musings of a foolscap fanatic.
Oct 30, 2012
Oct 30, 2012 at 5:11 PM UTC
They crawl hands and knees!!!
Lacklustered fanatic's,
Groupies of needleshooter's and powder transits,
Their noses they wipe off fairied dust!!!
Their skin fragile and delirious!!!
A spoon to copper boil,
Eyeglasses to split the sun ,
Sticky fingers to stop and go..
Bloodied toast!!!
They cringe their pearlies,
And wobbled by to and fro waves,
Their here for today,
Gone for tomorrow!!!
A vein full of sorrows!!!
A hitch hiker of fertile roads,
Though,
Thy load leadeth one down to the pit!!
Within millipede's of Spit,
To drippeth the argot that slurreth them!!
Taketh thy hector out of thy baggage,
Thou serf of emptiness!!
For thy plentiness thou seeketh,
Lies beyond the ark,
Behind the purple shroud!!
May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 9:12 PM UTC
Mr. Attitude Adjustment
Foundation based on chef secrets
Comic book fanatic
Aug 19, 2012
Aug 19, 2012 at 3:28 PM UTC
May we all fall into the cave of despair
Where darkness visible holds us within
We all deserve to go there for some reason or another!
To have Grendel greet us,
Would be a privilege
We would all roll the billiard ball to our enemies
Mon-fere what is your calling?
Do you have values anymore?
May religion take your soul
I hope Gods judgment is lighter than mine
O’Brian knew you as I do
I will follow you to hell, but not back
If only to make sure you burn
Chiron will take you across, but not like Dante
Like St. Judas, or Moloch or every fanatic alive
Jan 6, 2011
Jan 6, 2011 at 5:40 AM UTC