"fatality" poems
police
brutality
breeds
mob
mentality.
how
do
we
fix
the
world
before
the
next
fatality?
Oct 14, 2016
Oct 14, 2016 at 2:08 PM UTC
the sun is always shining
i create the rain
drowning in dark water
deluging thunderstorms
i obstruct the view
twisting tourniquet
shutting off the glow
fatality is sure
take flight in hurricanes
live in the twister’s path
cyclone is my choice
whirling to my death
the sun is always shining
afraid it’s far too bright
for me to grasp my power
and know that i am light
©2016janetaylor
May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 10:05 AM UTC
You say your life is a fallacy
Let me guide you to what you need to see
That you are who you want to be
Not what comes out of society
Follow where your heart will aim
And take what it wants to claim
You will then realize that this reality
Does not make your life another fatality
You have to reach for dreams
no matter how endless it seems
to that when you cross that line
you will realize that you are fine
That this place is not too tough
It's you making it so rough
I think you just need to explore
into yourself a little more
Share yourself piece by piece
You will feel the restraints release
So that you can finally be alive
and into your life you can dive
Do not be afraid
because the road you must follow, your heart already laid.
Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 3:40 AM UTC
There´s a man in my life
who with one glance
becomes commander of my will
and master of my thoughts.
My heart yearns his care,
my curves crave his hands.
However an endless void
rips trough my dream:
He doesn’t love me.
I go to him whenever he calls;
no matter the time, even when night falls.
After untangling sheets, we embrace into each other
staring into each other's eyes
until we drift into our own minds.
But he doesn't want me.
We wake up next to each other.
His smile is my warm morning sun
Yet when I manage to break his spell
and make my mind my own again
he can't wait to try to lure me back in.
Yet he says wants to be alone.
He calls and worries,
making sure I'm shielded from harm.
He couldn't stand if fatality struck,
and can't wait for me to be back
in the safety of his blessed arms;
But he wants to not care.
His eyes are yelling with his stare
that his soul is in line with mine,
that his thoughts belong to me.
When he holds me, he doesn’t let go.
With every kiss, we are nowhere and everywhere.
I am his and he is mine.
However, an endless void
rips trough my dream:
He doesn’t know he loves me.
May 9, 2017
May 9, 2017 at 2:03 PM UTC
tears glisten in the moonlight,
but it shines too bright.
blocking out reality,
and the sad fatality.
of my heart,
and it's broken parts.
Nov 7, 2018
Nov 7, 2018 at 12:49 PM UTC
Broken flesh, infected in dissolute.
We tend to dispute our vision of the world seeing only black and white.
Our eyes decieve us blatantly concealing the harmonic view of a one race with different shades.
Philia filling my heart with philosophies of what love actually is.
Conforming to the emotions of our soul drifting towards carnality.
Seduced by the luring sweet scent that our desires tend to offer often leading to our spirits fatality.
A promise is yet to come. A sacrifice made for us with the Annointed One hanging under inri. We forget our mistakes are not irreversible and He gave us the chance to live with Him for eternity.
Agape. The love so beautiful its tangability pushes us towards Him even when our lifes are resisting. His love being the cure to my absence and His peace being the sustainter of my life...so who am i to barricade you from His real love.
Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 8:43 AM UTC
creaking house
my mind cant escape the noise
creak
havent blinked in an hour
creak
creak
skin shivering
creak
creak
been up for a week
Creeeeeeeeeeeeeak
ghostly vision
making the incision
possession of being
what have i become
creak
creak
creak
creak
CreeeeeeeeeeeeaaKKKKK
CreeeeeeeeeeeeaaKKKKK
CREEEEEEEEEEEAAAKKKKKKK
CREEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAKKKK
CREEEEEEEEEEAAAAAKKKKK
CCCRRRRRRREEEEEEEAAAAAKKKKK
.
.
.
.
slipping from reality
ego fatality
falling through my physical being
falling through my physical being
when was the last time i dreamt
a call ive sent
no contact with the outside world
my life has transformed into an oyster with no pearl
CREEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAKK
CREEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAKKKK
CCCRRRRREEEEAAAAKKKKK
CCCRRRRREEEEAAAAKKKK
AND THAT ******* NOISE I CANT ESCAPE
SHATTERING MY BEING
EAR ****
DRUM PUNCTURED
IDLE HANDS TARE AWAY THE FLESH
I FEEL THE PAIN
IM NOT THE SAME
I LOVE THE PAIN
I LOVE THE PAIN
I FEEEL THE PAIN....
AND SUDDENLY IM TAKEN BACK TO THE orchid
where i used to lay...
.
far away...
.
Happy
Apr 17, 2015
Apr 17, 2015 at 12:04 AM UTC
A head, gnashing and screaming
Forgiving my unknown hospitality
Pretty is weakening
I'm a fatality deemed
Obnoxious is my scene
The mocking and mimicking comes easy for me
No secret, I envy the earth's energy
Depressed, sitting in my fancy dress
Shoving and tugging with desirable credibility
I ravish my personality
Amused?
As I show my tender meat bleeding
Kissing, authentic generosity
A bit suggestive
Confidence in deranged descriptions making others nervous
Excuse me, I must leave my head is blistering,
Popping,
Gushing and oozing profanities
Dented durability, consume me
I love the fact I'm lacking
Becoming one with the barbaric queen
May 28, 2016
May 28, 2016 at 1:06 AM UTC
i am a blissful slave to the things that make me happy
i love it in the worst ways
the chains of our desire for happiness grip our throats with a thousand fingers
the sadistic pleasure leaves me breathless of my own fatality
the deep desire to live within my false reality
eventually we escape this paradox of being trapped
not in death but in something much worse
and that is when we lose our passion for the people and things we love
It is then we are truely Free
Sep 8, 2015
Sep 8, 2015 at 12:32 AM UTC
They say a dog chooses it’s Master
and i believe a submissive does too.
Because just moments within meeting him,
i swear I already knew.
Set aside any criteria
and any particular credentials.
That something you can’t quite put your finger on,
Is one of my fundamentals.
I let him look inside my soul,
i show him I’m a dreamer.
Already he’s controlling me
and has altered my demeanour.
My logic screams inside me NO!
-Don’t sell your soul to the devil.
But my senses scream inside me YES...
“In his presence you will revel! “
The more we talk, the more I feared
as he changed my personality.
Yet further i delve into his aura,
although anticipating fatality.
Throwing caution to the wind,
i ignored my logic mind,
Ready to give him all of me,
til he suddenly declined.
Confusion strikes, I feel a loss.
Not knowing what I’ve done.
He tells me you’re not serious
and only seeking bedroom fun.
I don’t know how to prove myself,
wondering if this is just a test.
One day he’s here, the next he’s not.
I feel so... Dispossessed? !
I’d usually give up once rejected
but I know I must persist.
My inner sub is telling me
she needs him to exist.
You see jus moments within meeting him,
something was oh so very prominent.
I’m sure he doesn’t know it yet,
but he’s destined to be my
DOMINANT.
Jul 18, 2016
Jul 18, 2016 at 1:42 PM UTC
Modern generation,
Creation of virtual reality,
But to me it seems like a fatality,
To human,
Why do we need this virtual world,
To make fairy worlds look real,
To experience something,
That can never be real?,
When i was a child,
Even i saw a world,
That could never be mine,
Even i could see clouds swirl and curl,
But i never used virtual reality,
I used my imagination,
The key for creation,
Why do we need fake stimulated worlds,
When u can create one in your head,
And travel it,
Expand it,
U can do whatever you want,
They may turn into dreams,
In your mind,
Any image you can beam,
Human imagination,
Is stronger than any creation,
Then why do we succumb,
To virtual reality,
Or is it humans have lost their imagination ,
And is heading for fatality
Nov 29, 2016
Nov 29, 2016 at 4:58 PM UTC
In the long run, we are all dead
She said
So we decided to make
Tonight’s passionate embrace
About the acceptance of mortality
The celebration of fatality
The moral neutralisation of infidelity
All the more reason
To get it on
And whether wrong or right
To use this night
To be entangled
You and I
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 5:58 AM UTC
Two faced
Many minds
Shifter of shapes
Dr. Jekyll
Mr. Hyde
Past lives
Intertwined
Most mean
Few kind
All vie for equal time
All determine to shine
The writer
The fighter
Drama king
*** machine
The revolution ignite-r
The brave slave
One with
Passion and fire
The singer
Dead ringer
One who points the finger
Conspiracy theorist
Lyricist
Soulful swagger
Hip Hop demeanor
The teacher and student
The dude with attitude
And no one can refute it
A brother and a son
The one that has been shunned
One who leaves them stunned
With the selfish things
I’ve done
The secret me
The enemy
The one whose heart is numb
There are a lot of us
No stopping us
And yes there’s more to come
I’ll never alter
My alter selves
Incarcerate them
In individual cells
Even when they scream and yell
All are a part of me
And they refuse to be veiled
You ask me
Is there a pill?
A remedy…?
Because this has to
be
Insanity
Did you disrespect
My dissociative identities?
Do you really want
to make all of us
your #1 enemy?
We’re laughing
Its killing me
We flip the script easily
Me- and all of my
inner entities
Chillingly
You’re triggering
A very sad memory
Oh, what a tragedy
You’re just another casualty
Unfortunate fatality
Of my Multiple Personalities…
Oct 1, 2012
Oct 1, 2012 at 12:49 AM UTC
Overwhelmed by the normality
Don't fit in, stuck with abnormality
Such a strong fatality
To be faced with no personality
Mar 25, 2012
Mar 25, 2012 at 1:13 AM UTC
In vain determination
I sweep
pockets of nighttime
from the guarded corners
of my perception
In vain determination
I blink
a dusty darkness
from impaired eyes
that serve me naught
In vain determination
I breathe
in caustic shards
with every gasp
of air that taunts
my life
with fatality.
Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 10:00 PM UTC
When he calls me darling,
his hand is holding mine.
When he calls me darling,
my anger lasts a short amount of time.
When he calls me darling,
all my sadness slips away,
Except when I realize he won't be mine,
all of those things replay.
But when he calls me darling,
I desire for just his touch.
I desire for him to hold me,
he does not have to say much.
And when he calls me darling,
the world is suddenly alright.
But when he calls me darling,
I remember he isn't mine.
But it still means the whole world to me,
and he still means a whole lot.
because he was the first and only one to know me,
with all my weaknesses or not.
He recognized my strength,
but caressed me for my weakness,
He recognized my reality,
its fatality and its craziness.
He saw all the walls I had built up,
and had painted to show how I felt.
Except my side of the wall was real and the other side was not.
I showed the whole world what I was capable of,
What I was faking and breaking up.
He recognized me for my flaws,
and accepted me for all.
He recognized all my mistakes
and took me by the hand, and showed me this place.
This place he was never capable of living in,
but that he had shown to many.
He took me by the hand and said,
"Darlin' here I am. And here is this place,
you can live here if you want to,
but not within my embrace.
You must choose one or the other,
eventually but not now. I will stay
but only for a while,
until you sleep safely in the clouds."
I chose not long ago,
to give up and release them both.
But he took me by my hand,
and told me darling,
you must go home.
That place was meant to be
the one thing that kept you going.
I'm here only for the moment,
and to keep your memories floating.
So go back, he cried,
and be happy.
Because I cannot give that to you.
But I brought you here my darling,
Let your sorrows wash away and disappear.
When he calls me darling,
his hand is always in mine.
And when he calls me darling,
I am reminded of that time.
When the whole world had wanted him,
but only was he mine.
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 9:00 PM UTC
Here comes The Change
That has the range
Of emotions
And demotions
And devotions
Of a perilous populous
That likes to raise a fuss
When they eventually learn who I am
And treat me like I'm the Son of Sam
To be specific
They discover I'm gay
And begin to filet
My mentality
In totality
For fatality
Merely by acting differently
If my sexuality isn't the first thing people know about me
I get to witness The Change
Like a dog with mange
I am shedding my hair
While screaming no fair
Because of the shift I see
Because of the **** I need
To make my heart bleed
There is a steady bellowing burdensome baggage
From those that want to ****** some *******
So I search for weight lifters
But only find shapeshifters
That become great grifters
When The Change occurs
And The Change burns
So The Change turned
Me into an interdimensional changeling
And an unintentional rage king
After they use words like flaming
Because the results are so draining
It becomes hard not to hate people
Who are inspired by hate steeples
They say I'm going to Hell
While I notice the smell
Of being buried in their banal ****
While they play their greatest hits
That are as unoriginal
As they are cynical
They say I'm a degenerate
An embarrassment
A parent's lament
I want to change into a carefree bird
Instead I stay in Hell with the herd
Wanting to escape like Lupin the Third
Rather than be oppressed like the Kurds
But there is no relief
Only re-grief
When changes aren't permanent
But The Change is
There's an illustration of my life
That will change your perspective
The picture is in my words
When the painting is what I choose to say
And the canvas is your mind
Whose textures I could never imagine
So I jump off a cliff blindfolded
Expecting to be changed once I land
Nov 20, 2017
Nov 20, 2017 at 6:13 AM UTC
On the strings
Binding mortals together, you lay your dagger
And set apart,
The centre that holds us together…
You set
Our household in despair
And unending
Tears and sorrows, you fill our souls and hearts with...
You are...
Yes, a silent murderer, surely, you are:
You invade the joy that fills
The household of mortality and leave endless mourning songs on our tongues...
In your presence,
Where is the refuge of mortality?
In your eyes,
What is the value of mortality’s breath on this earth?
From nowhere
You have stepped your feet in our territory
Draining breaths
And raiding souls...alas, you plant the seed of fear in our hearts...
You fill
Our thoughts with forts of weary
And crush
Our hearts with dagger of fatality…
You set
Deafening quake and pains in our souls
And wane the survival
Of mankind on this shore with your arrival…
Ebola—
You, innocent faced murderer
Who has found
A niche in the home of strong-but-weak mortals...
Ebola,
Many you have set on that Voyage Of No Return¬¬—
Their wails, alas,
We hear in the silent night as their bloods smell on your arms…
You are
A scare to our existence
For life is death
And death is life with the arrival of your presence…
Ebola,
You’re but, a thief of souls...
Murderer!
Ebola, O’ yes, you are a silent ******
You are
The silent murderer reaping our souls and setting down our household—
You are the murderer
Yet, feared to be approached by even the 'mighties'…
You are
An unseen beast; you’re a barbaric stranger...
You are but,
A silent murderer in our home...
We wholly
Hate you from the depth of our souls—
Dark or white,
Ebola, yes, we truly all hate you!
Oswald Okaitei
(World Poetry Theatre Ambassador from Ghana Project)
From WHISPERS OF A HEART
(C) 2014
Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 10:23 AM UTC
Shadows of the past gently walking around me
Surrounding me, teasing my soul with hatred from their fatality
Lights out
I’m not what you want me to be
I don’t have your eyes
I can’t see what you want me to see
Confused, running in circles around my fake reality
It’s sad to see, tears from my stressed mind raining down on me
Pounding my heart full of guilt forcefully
Drowning me into the ocean
I’m not what you want me to be
Oct 29, 2012
Oct 29, 2012 at 5:06 PM UTC
Why attempt to claim the moral high ground
When your pathetic argument holds no sway
Why march to war with the rebel bound
In the uncommon disposition of yesterday
Why hold pretentious personality
When acceptance is based on adaptation
A pyramid scheme brings fatality
To your pseudo-martyr nation
Unwarranted non cooperation
With the voices of the future
Speak without brainwashed sedation
And unravel your poisoned sutures
Your self proclaimed image of authority
Is unwanted within the confines of freedom
You back a mentality of all encompassing conformities
When the generation of today can't see them
Your hubris lacks the willingness to act
Yet you call yourself Ole-Times-Hardened
And the simple depressing fact
Is that your ignorance cannot be pardoned
Leave while you hold a handful of passion
Before it is lost in the folds of time
Because dignity with age is not everlasting
You are but another one track mind
Whether or not you care to move forward
The world turns on an invisible axis
There is always a new world order
And living life requires emotional taxes
So be willing to express and voice opinions wholly
But like many lost souls before you say
Wander unknown territories carefully
Because the past is lost with today
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 8:50 PM UTC
Lieing on my body is my soft little feline
So cute and sweet like a flower of clementine
I pet Young Gunther softly as he stares into my eyes
I however was yet to meet my despise
The claws came out all sharp and about
Blood everywhere as I fought him throughout
Feeling such pain I fought back the best I could
His speed however was misunderstood
Bleeding out I grabbed the phone
In mid-brawl I began to crawl
Dialing 911 to save my life
At this point even a knife would not suffice
Nearly dead the ambulance arrived
Deprived and hurt I continued to cry
"Why Gunther, why?"
I was put on to a stretcher and taken away
Gunther running he escaped in some way
In the ER with little blood left
No hope in my mind remains about to be swept
Into a can and in a number of minutes
My fatality occurred
Words were slurred
And I died slowly painfully and without any last words
But "Oh Young Gunther, you little ****
Oct 31, 2014
Oct 31, 2014 at 4:13 PM UTC
Drinking bottles of Guinness
"Only socially, I can't stand the stuff"
Fatality in the finesse
Of 'classiness' and *****
Smoky rooms and jazzy tunes
A cigar hanging from the lips
Fatality in the finesse
Of small talk and swaying hips.
Winehouse's drawl pours from the speakers
That are modern in their vintage style
Fatality in the finesse
Of hidden grimaces and fake smiles.
Every conversations the same
In it's lack of personality
Fatality in the finesse
Of sociability.
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 8:47 AM UTC