"fest" poems
In swirling clouds of silver lace
The disk of Luna lies concealed
Across the Autumn skies they race
Over this shadow realm surreal.
On evening shadows now, I gaze
A gentle wind swirls through the trees
From depths of sleep, I watch half-dazed
Thin branches stirring in the breeze.
Lights flickering neath mystic skies
Through gaps in trees, they shine within
Entranced, my mind, I watch surprised
This spectral beauty in the wind.
In these dark shadows, spirits drift
Translucent ghosts and dryads old
From this meadow, I sense their gift
Strange stories from the wood untold.
Oh let me join thy sylvan fest
Pale spirits of this Solstice night
Before the Moon sets in the west
We'll revel neath her misty light.
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 12:04 AM UTC
Bunga Bunga everywhere,
a powerful man with silly hair
seduced a girl too young and scared,
was married too but didn’t care.
Corrupt and feared!
Bunga Bunga sounds like fun,
a swimming pool and saucy sun,
an Egyptian that was on the run
Or, under-aged Morocun
Who ****** the boss!
Bunga Bunga ***** and *****
coffles of women to choose
and buy and grab and ride and use,
with confidence
and so much to lose,
but why didn’t he lose?
Why didn’t he lose when it was on the news
and hundreds of thousands of people accused
him of scandal and incompetence?
He never revealed his conscience
or any remorse for play boy antics
so far removed from his pedantic
stereotype as a political leader,
more like a ****** wheeler dealer,
pervy old ***** geezer,
over cologned,
greasy,
heavy breather;
machinating falsifier;
misogynistic **********
He prized a Ruby above the rest.
Bunga bunga, what a pest...
she leaked his private fetish fest;
poor Silvio, he tried his best
to hide the bribes and bets
and ****** and drugs and threats
but never could care
what was right and
what was fair.
Could only care
about the colour of his
**** hair.
May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 11:45 AM UTC
Duck Dynasty has been replaced
by the folks at “A” & “E”.
we’re “GLAAD” to hear they lost their spot
to Zeus and company.
It’s felt the morals of Zeus ‘clan
Reflect the zeitgeist better.
Zeus is fond of little boys,
Swans, and shapely heifers.
Hera, his wife, of all her kids,
loves Artemis the most.
Apollo and Athena
Leave no room for the “Holy ghost”
Dionysus will do well
while hawking wine and beer.
Though Polyphemus freaks me out
Fans say he is a dear.
So tune in for the Sausage fest
And watch the hunt for ******
The role of Ganymede has been cast-
He’s played by Justin Bieber.
Dec 22, 2013
Dec 22, 2013 at 12:28 PM UTC
Under the old house
cast in conglomerate mix
the cataract window
and cracked sill
broken joists
and cross beams
wringer wash
and saddle set
A draw string light
brings life
to the corner bench
fowler toads
and fingerlings
jitter bugs
and dazzy vance
dirt planks filled
with mason
crown classics
Buggy whip
and whippletree
shelved on the
chopboard
tackle and mucks
stacked at the back
horseshoe and jack rod
bend the pike pole
a sawhorse placed
for the Martindale push
Gallon jars
and growlers
prepped
for the taking
ropes and reins
for transport
and fest
goggle eye
jumps the flyer
setting up nicely
for the
Haldimand town fair
Jan 28, 2017
Jan 28, 2017 at 12:31 PM UTC
With different colors friends played;
Hiding from them indoors I stayed.
They were all busy in colorful dance.
To hunt my thoughts I got a chance.
Thoughts could have run within a blink;
But I caught them with pen and ink.
They are within the confines of a cage.
Now they cannot run, they are on page.
Friends enjoyed the party and the fest;
And I did what I thought was best.
With colors they enjoyed their holi-day.
With pen and ink I enjoyed my holiday.
Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 4:52 AM UTC
Despicability is the foundation to their life
For them it is intrinsic
Genetically encoded
Simplistic
Poetically eroded
Reprehensible at best
**Unscrupulously callous
Secrets and facts, they conveniently
ingest
Distorted byproducts, they release to the
masses
To aid their campaign; a forked tongue
fest**
Pathetic and unapologetic
A beast armed to the teeth
Imported bypasses to increase the flow of police
A weakness and an act,
They so vehemently attest
**Harvesting greens off the branches of
the people
Pockets engorged with wads and folds
Crushing blue collars at the lower levels
As they sit atop their pyramids of gold**
Today they sip champagne
To celebrate their reign
Tonight we'll skip being humane
To feed them excruciating pain
**You've incited this coup with ill-thought
deterrents
Now herald the arrival of the scourge
Down with lopsided governments
Tonight... All we would topple! Tonight we purge!**
Justin G
ryn**
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 11:32 AM UTC
Aggression, is a session
Is a desire, blazing fire
Is a fest, at its best
Aggression, becomes a passion
Aggression, in your blood
In your vision, a mission
In your mind, a fight
Aggression, now your mood
Aggression, can be utilised
Can be channelized, it should be
Can be unleashed, it needs be
Aggression, must be utilised
May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 9:14 PM UTC
I'm too despressed to notice I'm stressed out
Suppressed emotions inside, shouldn't let out
Seeing is believing but what I see isn't real
I am forced to accept these "realities" and ignore the way I feel
I don't mean to sadden, entertain, bore, or aggravate,
For a decade I find that this is how I communicate
The only way I can precisely speak out on the unhealthy pleasures
As the chemicals of my brain, they fornicate
These levels of relationships aren't supposed to be
It'll **** me sometime later, look at how it has ruined my personality
Seeing is believing, but you won't believe what I see
How can I act 'normal' when you won't acknowledge I can't do 'human being'
My animalistic compulsions are fuelled by my failing brain functions
Don't get too close cause I'll try to bite, I sympathise for your flesh when I malfuntion
Don't be scared, I'm not canibalistic, I just like to use my teeth
Humans scare me, I must defend myself, uh, I mean, to smile and eat
I'm not afraid to say it, but I'm scared when I'm saying it, I have to say
I have been observing your mundane human actions, I really don't want to be put away
I always feel foreign, alienated, out-of-place
But because I'm "considerate," I have to bite my tongue to save me some face
I'm too stressed out to notice that I'm depressed
Wanting mental soundessnes, yes, peace, my hallucinations don't give me rest
My taughts speed down their highway, my delusions are always a-fest
They inflict beneath my exterior, but for the public eye, I wear a crest
"I wear my skin well, don't you think?" I lie, becuase it ill-fits
I am totally normal, "I'm fine." Can't change the fact I'm a misfit.
The beams that bear my bag of meat rust and thus begin to weaken
The lethal sagging's caused by the mental luggage, I'm not heard, even though I'm speaking
Many persons think that I'm overly paranoid, I must admit, that I am
You would be the same way too, if about your health, no one ever gives a ****
Help doesn't come, because their 'laters' always becomes 'nevers'
I am not that superhuman, can't keep myself together, forever
They claim that they would help me, some way, somehow, but their actions never initiate
Someday, sometime, it would all be over, through a thorough death physical or mental
Oh yes, I'm still believing, you can't accuse me of not having faith.
I look forward to my healing, but all the while, my brain chemicals fornicate.
Oct 10, 2018
Oct 10, 2018 at 7:18 PM UTC
***Hear ye!
Hear ye!***
Oh how I love concrete poetry!
Itching to write and sculpt and mould.
Twiddle my thumbs as I thought to myself silently.
Reckon I'd render my musings in italics and in bold!
***Hear ye!
Hear ye!***
30 days of concrete, wouldn't you fancy?!
These poems, they come in various shapes.
Would you consider them "poetic eye candy"?
If I fashioned poems to look like grapes!
***Hear ye!
Hear ye!***
Awashed with excitement!
I can't wait to share!
Fantastical, delicious and ultimately succulent!
A wonderful spread of such wordy fare!
***Hear ye!
Hear ye!***
When is this... GREAT BIG AFFAIR?
On the morrow, I'll dish out the first serving!
Do tune in if you so do care...
30 days of concrete! The shape fest is beginning!
Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 9:30 AM UTC
We walk the smoke-thick winter street of sweet 'n' sour aromas
amongst a throng of oriental shaded faces (such gentle souls)
who crowd little pushcarts selling scallion pancakes.
Overhead, red talismanic paper lanterns bob, enticing us
to the tap of percussive chopsticks.
We sit in awe; snack on duck-tongue; roast pigs hang
glistening; fat-fresh, ready to fry.
Waiters wheel trolleys piled high with steaming shrimp noodles
past tables of golden oranges and watermelon seeds.
Our Chinese chef prepares shredded pork in garlic sauce.
He smiles and says:
"More guests means more happiness."
Mar 19, 2010
Mar 19, 2010 at 6:35 AM UTC
diabetes
comes from treaties
from the hoagie fest
to the real test:
shrink
and his
****
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 4:24 PM UTC
It's raining blood
Intestines dress the trees
Like Christmas lights
Heads on stakes
I'm king of the ****** Gore Fest
No rules no regulations
Come bathe in blood
Taste the sweet metallic flavor
Rejoice in the rotting of enemies
This is just the beginning
Of the ****** Gore Fest
Jul 7, 2013
Jul 7, 2013 at 2:15 PM UTC
The past can make it so easy to relapse
not because of the past itself
but
running away from it
and burying it in the subconscious,
hiding it away and letting it silently
fest fest fest.
Is what causes you to be haunted.
---
Pain;
A raging sore, a deep wound, an eternal scar,
just wants to be felt; acknowledged.
So I try not, to ignore it
when I see the marks of the past; knives
digging into the valves of my heart; pain
even when it comes back
strong and hard and fighting
like a hurricane
carrying me away under water
suffocating the freedom in my punctured lungs
I will not let it destroy me.
—-
Its not because I am weak that I struggle with it
but the brain is strong; be aware...
For thoughts can make you a victim of your own mind
though I hope
there will be a time when
healing, that miraculous God-sent healing is at the end.
When
you stop ignoring the past
and instead start loving those broken pieces, the shame you felt,
the fear that crippled
and realise
it will soon ease, soon melt away, soon diminish
and you’ll remember
pain has no authority to hurt
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 5:43 AM UTC
The dreamy sea washed ashore bringing
little bubbles of life to its end
Children splashed and jumped as wave after wave fell in
Bucket and ***** at the ready as castles from the sky
formed from minds in youth and fairy tales
Cream at the ready as grandads cap retreats
crisped from the comfort of his strippy deckchair he waits
Mothers blankets blown from the wind held down by
a shoe to be lost and a stone found yet not cast
These were the days we remember
These are the days we forget
These are the days to be treasured
A fine sad old memory from a past we most had
Ice cream sounds calling at fathers request
Is grandma still yawning from bingo's night fest
a donut for mother all sugared and warm
don't forget Charlie as woof is all heard
A match game of cricket from children about
or footy at lunchtime sweet sand in your mouth
These were the days we remember
These are the days we forget
These are the days to be treasured
A fine sad old memory from a past we most had
Asleep from the sun and a sneaky quick pint
as dad tries to doze be free to unwind
A call for 3 strikes as rounders is found
hear grandad all snoring more cream to be crowned
Tis time for a dip to twinkle your toes
to jump back a mile oh blimey its cold
These are the memories all children should have
a time when no phones when a time wasn't planned
No little computers to spoil the day
just fun and great memories of children at play
A time when your family all joined in the fun
a shame we have lost this to greed and the sun
Jun 16, 2012
Jun 16, 2012 at 1:33 AM UTC
Eid Mubarak to all of my Poet friends. I love you more than my verses. May you live long with living peace.
Godspeed.
Jun 26, 2017
Jun 26, 2017 at 2:41 AM UTC
I want to run away so badly.
Just end it with everyone.
I'm burning from my own mistakes.
I hate the person I become when you are around.
The reality is that I've never ment anything to you.
Hopefulness has taking me into the realm of delusion.
What is right I see as left.
Your eternal love is really a three minute panting and moaning fest.
How could I be so blind.
Well in truth I was viewing it all and I just wouldn't let go.
I knew it was wrong but I just didn't care.
I apparently don't love myself at all.
If I did you would have seen nothing and I would have remained as Mother Teresa.
So long it's time to grow up and outgrow you.
Let my new roots be firm and pure.
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 3:53 AM UTC
*In the slug-fest between Ego’s
Love is knocked out of the heart’s arena
What remains, is the bruised and bloodied individual
Where the referee proclaims the two, ‘Defeated’ by ‘Knock-out’*
© Amitav (Radiance)
May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 1:55 AM UTC
Rusted trailers file in,
carrying pop-up roller coasters
and tilt-a-whirls. A tall man, face splashed
with paint, trips in oversized shoes.
His drawn lips smile, but teeth do not show.
A ferris wheel spins in the distance, time
measured in each rotation, the carnival's only clock.
Perched on a saddle, a small tot
rides a stallion, tangling her curled fingers
in its mane, cotton candy stained palms
shaking the reins. The steed chained
to a central post, muzzled in silence,
frozen like his carousel brothers.
Nov 16, 2013
Nov 16, 2013 at 12:22 PM UTC
Star Wars, X-Men
CoD, Pacific Rim
Lego brick, Ranger Rick
Graphic novel, the Tick
World War history
Model cars, chemistry
Nerf gun, Comicon
Myth Buster Byron
Extra credit, Cosplay
Risk, Chess, Anime
Billy Nye, ask why
You're the one, don't deny
Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 12:53 AM UTC
Montgomery! true, the common lot
Of mortals lies in Lethe’s wave;
Yet some shall never be forgot,
Some shall exist beyond the grave.
“Unknown the region of his birth,”
The hero rolls the tide of war;
Yet not unknown his martial worth,
Which glares a meteor from afar.
His joy or grief, his weal or woe,
Perchance may ’scape the page of fame;
Yet nations, now unborn, will know
The record of his deathless name.
The Patriot’s and the Poet’s frame
Must share the common tomb of all:
Their glory will not sleep the same;
‘That’ will arise, though Empires fall.
The lustre of a Beauty’s eye
Assumes the ghastly stare of death;
The fair, the brave, the good must die,
And sink the yawning grave beneath.
Once more, the speaking eye revives,
Still beaming through the lover’s strain;
For Petrarch’s Laura still survives:
She died, but ne’er will die again.
The rolling seasons pass away,
And Time, untiring, waves his wing;
Whilst honour’s laurels ne’er decay,
But bloom in fresh, unfading spring.
All, all must sleep in grim repose,
Collected in the silent tomb;
The old, the young, with friends and foes,
Fest’ring alike in shrouds, consume.
The mouldering marble lasts its day,
Yet falls at length an useless fane;
To Ruin’s ruthless fangs a prey,
The wrecks of pillar’d Pride remain.
What, though the sculpture be destroy’d,
From dark Oblivion meant to guard;
A bright renown shall be enjoy’d,
By those, whose virtues claim reward.
Then do not say the common lot
Of all lies deep in Lethe’s wave;
Some few who ne’er will be forgot
Shall burst the ******* of the grave.
2.9k
**** here I am again
suffused by incoming sunlight floods,
blonde tresses decorative,
and a
refrigerator light dim surprising,
********** a future fest,
when in search of ordinary milk and coffee
cherries, grapes, watermelon,
cole slaw, caramelized walnuts,
Spanish Marcona almonds,
chicken defrosting, and wine,
a pink rose,
blushing like me,
at the amplitude of love and blessings
I have uncovered,
and that covers me,
while she sleeps,
I sip first coffee and
her love
and more than suffused,
*I am effused,
unable to contain all this,
what I am feeling,
like my water broken,
pouring tears
and I wonder who is*
this idiot
that forgets to say
thank you
for what he
has been given,
and who in return
can merely offer up
a pauvre writ,
a love poem,
of salt and sweet
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 6:42 AM UTC
.ha ha! of course they'd be the ones asking for money! what did you expect? payment by peanuts?!
digital beggars...
nice term... nice...
very nice...
digital
beggars...
& ***** donors...
whatever
the **** that means...
replica to a d.n.a.
continuum?
seriously?!
go ahead... ******
oi! ****** *** Goliath!
that one song,
garbage's song...
stupid girl...
sing-along ballerina
happy...
aged 18 / 16 and thinking
she's a ********* fest...
last time i heard...
that was the legal age?
no?
Ficklestein was on board?
APPLAUSE!
APPLAUSE!
you want the opposite ratio,
of the *** galore of
the black swan ************
impromptu, introducing the french
into the conundrum?
no?
by now?
i'm so past giving a ****
that, giving a ****
is an act of conspiratorial neglect...
no... **** it...
you're on your own...
now watch my face;
pretending to assume the
****** expression of
being, bothered.
Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 9:40 PM UTC
The Pumpkin fest
The night of Halloween,
We went to the pumpkin fest
We were all in costumes and dressed our best
thousands of pumpkins were on the ground
Wagons hooked up by horses were all around
Filled with excitement
And filled with cheer
As we load up on the wagon for another year
Oh how I love Halloween
Carameled apples with sticks in between
horses pulling the hay ride
yelling trick or treat out side
They fill our bags with lots of candy
Reese 's peanut 's and m&ms;
snickers and kit kats
and three Musketeers
Oh how I love Halloween this year.
The grown ups are sitting and drinking hot cider
I'm dressed as a witch sitting by a tiger
Ghost and goblins their there too
a Cinderella and bear bear boo
The night's coming to a end
and the hay ride is over
It won't happen again til next October.
Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 12:38 PM UTC
The storms randomly appearing outside my window
I thought it was an angry neighbor, rolling their garbage can around in rage
To an intrusive fence or overly vocal dog
But no
It is a full-fledged raindrop fest
That affixes itself to my ears in memory and
As an old friend, this rain
But I am a bit tired
Unused in my 6 months of laziness to any expenditure of
Energy whatsoever
And I ran in your name today
Red-faced and puffing, mostly nearing the end
I ran in your name
It felt good.
May 26, 2011
May 26, 2011 at 1:52 PM UTC
What has happened to today's society
Everything to be seen is sickening
Hardly anyone is true to their word
And friendship is considered absurd
They're suppose to be there through thick and thin
But all is thrown away when shown a little skin
Where exposing bodies has been revered
And it's morally acceptable to play smear the queer
Seemingly betrayal is accepted more and more
A grand fest of backstabbing galore
It's better to be alone, where there's no deception
Where truth can be found in a simple reflection
But the truth in others is as fake as can be
Because the only truth is that there are only lies in this reality
No one truly can appreciate all that is done
Unless they're being mistreated; it is no longer fun
Suppose friends lurk in the shadows plotting a sinister deed
Implanting it unknowingly in our minds growing from an evil seed
Many are trapped here wondering who to trust and who to not
Getting lost in this ever lasting thought
Spit in the face by an enemy or stabbed in the back by a friend
Who should be trusted; what differences does it make in the end
Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 6:29 PM UTC