"ferociousness" poems
My my, what a special little snowflake.
Why did you choose to be this way?
You chose to be different, you chose to rebel.
No binary for me!
You chose the grief, the pain.
You chose this abuse, bruised by
the verbal ferociousness, forged by physical fallacies
To be thrown out of bathrooms
because doing your business in the bathroom is abysmal.
You chose to be derided by decisive discrimination.
You chose to be murdered by misconceptions,
***** by ridiculous requirements.
You chose to be beaten, assaulted.
You chose the words I weave to weaken your will.
You chose the sacred sermons I spit at you.
You chose to be
What I find disgusting, despicable
because you chose to be what you aren't,
but I realize what I really regard you to be.
My my, what a special little bigot.
You think I chose to be this way?
You think
I chose the injuring, injustice,
the jester, the joke
the target, tortured,
This pain, my poison,
the prey, praying,
the sinner of sins so bittersweet,
So I could be "special"?
Special isn't a sacrifice of physical self
Nor the gunshots and gruesome grief
Nor even the crass comfort of a half-assed comrade.
You think I CHOSE this,
and you didn't choose
to spit and spew your sour speeches
to disperse your disgust in discrimination
to integrate your ignorance into my existence.
Or did you not choose
to deal the abuse
by your hand
yourself?
My special little bigot,
You live as you are.
So be it, if I am so "special", the special little snowflake.
Yes, we are the little snowflakes that your palm's presence melts away,
And you're that burning persistence of life
Blocking with your own self our slow, wistful descent,
As if it were futility and not of your own will.
If I am the snowflake, you are the fire.
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 8:42 PM UTC
The rain runs,
spreading the stone polished
and clean.
Like this, you must
let the water slip
on the back of your unkissed neck,
the curved dips between
your fingertips,
nestle
in the soft folds around your waist
that you hate,
and stumble on your collarbones,
your genetic mistakes.
Let it slide on the stretch marks
skimming your thighs
like fog diffusing across the hills,
and inside the grooves of your too-large ears,
form little streams.
Let it wash away
and unearth these parts of you
where you don't want to look,
where your lotion never reaches.
These are the little patches of soil
you must water with care.
Flowers, flaws -
how much is the difference?
One day a lover will give them a kiss
and you will understand
why we are so tender
with broken things.
Let them bloom, and see yourself
wilder, as you grow,
for gardens are most beautiful
with some ferociousness.
Feb 7, 2016
Feb 7, 2016 at 7:24 AM UTC
Courting cobra woman, never lets him go out of her focus,
pure passion made her hiss with delight, just on seeing him,
when her lips gathered his, her hiss led to a performance,
coiled together they swayed in sweet pressure, intensified by heat,
cobra woman told him not to be daunted by her ****** ferociousness,
her poison, he understood was pleasure by another name,
he then felt a drowsiness,so pleasant, that never will be explained in words
Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 11:40 AM UTC
Sabungan Cockfight
Sa pula! For the red!
Sa puti! For the white!
Anopaman dumating However they come
piliin ang magiting choose the valiant
tumaya sa tindig gamble on their carriage
pagpaboran and consider
bawat katunggali. each competitor.
Sumiping sa dilim Make love with the dark
at sumigaw and cry
Kristo! Kristo! Christ! Christ!
Panoorin ang laban Watch closely the battle
sarsuelang mapanganib this dangerous sarsuela
kawatang sumasanib a thief takes over
sa aking piling inside.
Sa bawat kong hiyaw, Every shriek
ang kada tuka, laslas each peck, a slash
nagmula sa dahas of ruthlessness and
lumilipana ang daing cries all around
dumadaginding ang bagsik echo ferociousness
bawat laban pilit. of this stilted struggle
Kristo! Kristo! Christ! Christ!
sigaw ng sabungero screamed the sabungero
at ako'y tumigil. I stop.
Sa pagpanaw When all is gone
manalo win
matalo lose
walang pareho tumingin no one sees evenly
sa aking balahibong my feathers
pula at puti of red and white
sa alabok on the surface dust
kumalat they lay
lumipad they fly
lumahong taimtim. and vanish without a thought.
Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 11:36 PM UTC
I know I cannot have your sympathy
I just ask you to understand
The truth is
I understand the land
But I'm tired of standing under another man
Only to be perfectly misunderstood purposely
Inside of my ferociousness
It's hurting me
Because I know there's always a start, but never an end
Have you ever fought a continuos fight that you can never win?
You can never understand
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 3:55 AM UTC
to affinity fortified
to fosforus frenchynice
to effortless to fantasized
to effulgent freefateflight
to fantasy freefallity
to faithful affirmity
to fabulous effervescent
to fiery ferociousness
to fairy femininity
to feline femalefool
to fuzzy flutterby
to flambouyantsy
to flameaman
to fellowfollows
to face to face
Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 1:01 PM UTC
Walking through barren and burned deserts
Swimming through oceans on fire
Climbing to the top of the highest crystal tower
Hoping he can acclaim her divine spectacle
To lose his soul in the spirit of her flesh
Longing to prove his love for her
Show his love's strength above the rest
To be the source of the fire the burns beneath her breast
But this mortal is flawed
As he competes against Gods
And the Goddess he so passionately seeks is beyond his stature
Foolishly, he will fight tooth and nail
Only he will undoubtedly falter
To match the ferociousness and vigor of Gods
In his battle to reach her alter
But this oh so daring mortal
Was merely too blind to see
The Goddess had already chosen
But he failed to believe it was he
Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 2:29 PM UTC
Your kisses are like colors to the blind,
Your touch like an aria for the mute,
As elusive as passion to the mind,
As beyond the grasp as an absolute.
Your kisses like a full moon in the day,
Your touch is like a rainbow’s harmony,
Like language that the angels use to pray,
Or the dreams that wide open eyes can see.
Your kisses are like clouds held in a palm,
Your touch like a silent cacophony,
Embracing the ferociousness of calm,
Embracing the constraints of being free.
Your perfect kisses defy description.
Your touch is a sublime contradiction.
Jan 20, 2019
Jan 20, 2019 at 10:08 PM UTC
I might miss the way your muscles flex under my touch, but I will always hold on to the bitterness you left on my tongue.
I recount all our memories to only remember the way I cherished your ferociousness.
My bones have become fragile, I need someone to pack me up and carry me slowly.
You never understood how you opened me up, I was always ready for you to pour yourself into me.
Instead you left a gnawing black hole between my shoulder blades.
Every puff of smoke is another sigh of despair leaving my body.
My chest shattered in your absence and I'm left searching for pieces of my heart in this mess.
Silence is solace, but all I want to do is scream till I can feel a burning in my lungs instead of the one in my chest.
Why did I let myself wade between thick marshes till your talons embedded themselves in my skin?
I wanted dark whispers and coquettish smirks, and all it got me was a mouthful I can't manage to chew.
My ego got the best of me once more, and I have lost all the pages imprinted with warnings I saved for a moment like this.
My mind sunk in defeat, while my body was left a shredded liability in your wake.
You used to ruffle me like a lazy breeze between my tresses, but now all you remind me of are stalemates I thought I had left behind.
I have lost my haven and you are the only comfort left to seek, a road I wished would have been left undiscovered.
I tried to rub off the scent of you from my body using an unfamiliar scent, but now I wreak of vengeance and it doesn't smell as sweet.
I am ashamed of all these tears, but the warmth keeps flowing between every crack.
You have unleashed a dam, and I'm left here stacking up pages of words dedicated to you in hope of stemming the flow.
I'm already counting down the days till I forget you, praying for the hours to go by faster.
Nevertheless I still foolishly wish for a last lifeline.
I want you to fight, fight for me and help mend the last stitches you left behind.
Dec 25, 2016
Dec 25, 2016 at 1:27 AM UTC
I lay in bed
My heart as heavy as lead
Breathe , in and out
Tomorrow will come, there is no doubt
Brokenness, soulfulness, woefulness
Today, the sun has risen
Such a contradiction
Darkness surrounding
Leaving the story unwritten
Ferociousness, outspokeness, emotionless
Yesterday, looking for a do over
Constantly looking over ones shoulder
Trying to remember
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 11:25 PM UTC
skinny girls jump for beauty
the sad truth that hooks with reality
i used to think eating less would
be better than being blessed
why not think highly of models and magazines
that says you're not pretty otherwise?
perhaps i may not be the brightest with
my age, but fret not.
the distress you form when you eat,
the anxiousness you feel when you
drown in a sea of thoughts that serves you
nothing but ferociousness
that makes you look upon more models
and magazines that says you're not pretty otherwise.
it's tainting.
skins in different colors,
beauty will always be found within.
Jun 25, 2019
Jun 25, 2019 at 8:55 AM UTC
The after shock is setting in, like the ferociousness of an ocean
Tearing me down again and again
Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 1:11 AM UTC
a man crested his hill, he viewed the world around him. never before had he seen such ferociousness.
he was viewing something no souls had ever encountered. he was, for the first time in his life, the first.
he fell to his knees— water crashed below, as the tangles of pine closed in on his frail form.
he believed the world built this view for him, and only him. only— the world built this view for no reason.
the serendipity of the hill he collapsed on was marveled by the man. he wept. alone, in a world only he would ever see exactly as is.
cries to the heavens were silenced. his own drive to rise again fell off the cliff face. he simply watched.
vines creeped up his torso. snakes nestled under his legs. his hair melted with the spring thaw, then washed away with the rain.
his eyes never faded. his mind never dulled. he simply sat and waited. he waited for god to extend His hand.
what else should one do in front of the sublime?
Dec 14, 2020
Dec 14, 2020 at 3:31 PM UTC
Even the ocean,
after last night's ferociousness
forgot the calm night,
that the moon promised.
The same moon, which with its borrowed light
Left without warning.
Apr 9, 2017
Apr 9, 2017 at 6:01 AM UTC
why even attack,
slyly creep under
or even parasitical nibble
at a figurine
that in 100 years will (
gain impetus akin
to an Alexander the Great... ?
a joke of a surname... )
when you have
all the grey
areas of an erwin lambert
to mind...
the joke that was ******
that became the mythological
romance akin to Attila...
the congested mouth of
human history,
lacerated, cancerous,
tooth-rot
and a tongue of gangrene,
nothing, but theatre,
surviving;
give it 100 years...
and no sooner the moths
that might agitate the flame...
but all they grey-mass-in-between...
ihre vater, die "wenigscherz"...
how these children
sum up the evil
in one but man...
peddlestooled into the lime
from the cameo...
dictator helpless before
dictatorial mass of bureucrats...
hier! hier ihre eisenvorhang!
break the rank
of the patron of bureucrats
(herr Kant)...
and place
the sztylet of Brutus,
with a semi-patricide scorn into...
a nail within
the hanging frame of
a dandy crux...
a feeling akin to:
castrating a pedegree Alsatian:
shining teeth...
pumped teeth...
impersonal the gnashing...
most of the time i imagine
myself reincarnated
in a theatre of a castrated
rottweiler...
making stretched-clown-masks
from strangers' skins
of childrens' faces...
just for kicks...
mind you...
apparently the N.S.A.
has all the personal data briefing
whether or not...
i'm jihadi material...
or just a fantasist /
fetishist...
good to know that even I,
do not have knowledge,
of a minority report;
must have whisked passed me
on a feline whim of
teasing a whisker before
a fetish for: leisuring a Mexican
in cleaning a dilemma's worth
of a paw;
prepare th mince...
an obese exhibit with
Alzheimer's...
during warfare,
war dogs & dogs require
the most contaminated meats,
to add to their expected
ferociousness...
ha ha...
the Nazis didn't insaminate
their subjects with
feline *****
why is Frankenstein
so pale...
and transgenderism, so, norm?
May 18, 2018
May 18, 2018 at 8:33 PM UTC
Word of the day - NEFELIBATA
Meaning - cloud walker, one who lives in the clouds of their own imagination
__________________________
She was such a woman,
not just a woman though
she was a prodigy.
She made her own rules
and she made her own paths.
Her middle finger
was always high
in the sky
for the people
who carried prejudices
against her.
She waved them all,
a goodbye,
because suddenly
one day
she decided to
just leave
the misconceptions
and allegations
of the society
behind her.
Rock bottom
or cotton candy
she handles both.
She was one fierce woman
who worked
just for herself.
She had compassion
but she left it behind too.
Ferociousness was her.
Wherever she went,
she passed on her teachings
of how to care
but for yourself.
She lived in her own world,
maybe it was full of rainbows and unicorns
or
maybe it was filled with blazing guns and people running for their lives,
either way, she managed to pull a smile through it all.
She was her own master.
She was her own maker.
She was a woman, a prodigy.
May 3, 2018
May 3, 2018 at 4:26 AM UTC