"fecklessly" poems
Fecklessly eremitical
Scholars of sorcery wizened
As a thousand dew drops
Sullenly fall like tears
From furtive circean eyes,
Gnarling pious pyrognomic malevolance
Within the nebulous netherworlds
Salamandrous sanctity
Summonsing the heliacally
Resurgant vaticide from
The pheonixs flames
Newly baptised;
Immutably the darkest
Light that ever shone
Upon halcyon times.
ELEETE J MUIR
Jan 13, 2012
Jan 13, 2012 at 9:26 AM UTC
Acute to the place from where my regret will stem
It's 4:30 AM: my thoughts condemn
Anxiety floods my synapses
Regret is a dish best served deceived
With my own two ears, I heard the truth
But, I still had not believed
I speak from a place of squandered ambition
Of fecklessly feeble, and imprudent volition
I buried my treasure, and forgot where it was when I turned around
Indulging my sloth, my lust, and pride
My conscience was seemingly silent
Though many times, I should have died
I sold my costly soul at once, to buy a gin and tonic
Hello my name is Adam, and I'm a hopeless alcoholic
So, at 4:30 AM: my thoughts condemn
And, my tenuous will fell asleep already...
Apr 19, 2021
Apr 19, 2021 at 7:57 AM UTC
She walks
Yes she has walked in a sea
Fecklessly running and strumming
Heart beating not seeing but grasping onto homeless dreams.
Note to self…
That next time you see Leviathan
Tell him there’s One much greater
And any time you hear the silent ring
Whistle while you work.
She prays for peace and she prays for mercy
Redemption only a sinking heart can long for
See she wondered in the wilderness
Singing breathless songs and looking into holes
A wild woman yet unnamed
A wild woman yet untamed
But she prayed for peace she prayed for mercy
So next time she sees Leviathan
She’ll tell him there’s one much greater
For when tears were her prayer
A king came to save her
On clouds of wonder
And righteous splendour
So she walks on...
Apr 7, 2020
Apr 7, 2020 at 3:40 PM UTC
(O)
/ + \
( > < )
|
| |
•• ••
The River has been turned into blood
The corpse of our soul rots
And invades tomorrow
Children shall suffer endlessly
Because of our indifference
/////
Of this too
We are indifferent
••
We call ourselves poets
But we are just another form
Of lazy lifeless love junkies
Who really don't give a ****
••
Our feeble greedy words !
Our everlasting shame placed so fecklessly
And arrogantly before the world !
• •
The molten eye!
The smoldering **** !
The weaponized ***** !
••
The evil masquerade
The pretense of kindness
••
The death of innocence unfurled
///
We are the Plague itself
We release ourselves upon each other
Like slime
Evil itself
••
Dec 22, 2014
Dec 22, 2014 at 3:08 PM UTC
A temporary wealth
is all that I am ever allotted.
A brief understanding,
as well as an ability to be understood.
We entertain ourselves
with coarse language,
crude humor,
a commitment to behave
as we know we should,
for a while anyway.
Even now,
our respective grasps
on whatever it is
that we are allowed to share
during this day’s task is tenuous,
at it’s very best.
There are count times,
microcosms of malcontentedness
that lead to slight infractions
here and there.
We,
I learn daily,
are in passing.
Always, in flux.
We are not pals
and
never shall we abide one another
as more than men,
in conflict
and resolution
at the same time.
It is not a death,
their exit,
usually anyhow.
There is no pall that befalls us.
Each of us is birthed
into the life of the other;
in an effort to facilitate
a change in each other,
I believe.
An impact,
like an iceberg shipwreck,
rescuing and rewarding the passengers,
most of whom would rather drown themselves outright.
None of us can swim.
We don’t know how.
We barely know what it means
to live as society says we should.
The rules change more often
than we can keep up.
Yet, we grasp
and
cling to basic, vague understandings
in hopes of surviving
despite our best efforts otherwise.
We work together,
tumultuous,
listening fecklessly,
recklessly hoping for
the best possible outcome.
It is quite the undertaking.
This,
this performance,
this penance,
the doing of this
is how we invest,
how we spend our temporary windfall.
We learn,
together,
to be human.
Not that we ever actually were not so.
We learn,
however,
to be ourselves,
incandescent inside of our own skins.
Together, but with lives outside of mine,
for the betterment of all of us.
I learn to be a better humanist
than perhaps I would’ve
if I’d never been endowed
with
this temporary wealth.
***
-JBClaywell
©P&ZPublications 2021
May 23, 2021
May 23, 2021 at 5:14 PM UTC
She couldn't see my face for long.
I told her, I will return to your lap,
But, I was imprisoned in a cage of brutality.
Flesh, blood, chaos were my daily food.
I fecklessly took the taste of these.
There was no lights.
The moon never peeped through the cartain
The Sun would never rise
Only the hunger of flesh was existed.
There was no peace.
It was a day dream of optimists.
They waited for the new sun
And charished a dream of Icarus.
The air was polluted.
Anarchy, monarchy, and cruelty were floated in the air
The only perfume was the rotten flesh
And decomposed body was the mask.
The surroundings was full of music.
Nuclear weapons, guns were the instruments
Tanks, bullets, and bombs composed the melodious song,
Inhumanity was passionate audience.
Today I am a winged bird.
I fly in the boundless sky.
I sing with birds, and take fresh air
The sun, the moon, and the stars are in my feet.
I smell the blooming flower
And observe her inquisitive eyes.
I touch her but she doesn't feel.
I see her cheek burns with tears
Climbs down to my emancipated body.
I call her but she doesn't reply.
Someone holds my body and keeps me in a coffen.
She brusts into tears and scolds me a 'lier'.
Feb 19, 2018
Feb 19, 2018 at 12:32 PM UTC
I don't care.
I've given up.
**** it, I'll be runnerup.
The lies, the truth,
Which is worse,
Be clear almighty universe.
I'm better than you,
It says so, boo,
On the bottom of my shoe.
There is no out,
Best plop right down.
Lived my life as an angry clown.
What you think its real?
Maybe it is or maybe we forgot,
How to untie all the nots.
Yeah, I'm done,
Lived life so recklessly,
So fecklessly in constant perplexity.
No more thought or tears,
I've had my fill,
Time an enemy I could not ****
Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 8:52 PM UTC
For whom would I write a love poem?
I fall in love (or is it lust?) too quickly
But I am thrown out just as swiftly.
And right now?
I'm happily drifting
Down a river on which I live
Fast and loud
Carelessly, fecklessly
But for no one but myself
Maybe that could turn into a trend:
"An ode to the one I love
The only one who can change my life
Me."
Feb 13, 2014
Feb 13, 2014 at 11:17 PM UTC