"feud" poems
can you explain
what it means
to despise someone?
to frame hate
and hang it on your wall
to count the number of days
lost sleep in your coffee mug
with the aforementioned's
name expensively embroidered on it
an old feud, laid in skin
and memories
so long you no longer remember
what the original sin was
only the feeling endures
an anticlimax
that you could go on
and on for hours about
without rest
so much pathos
teeming under the surface
that you could erupt
in volcanic tantrums
at the sound of a name
the way you clench your fists
until your fingers bite blood
from your palms
over street signs that bring up
old memories
the way you dream
of burning chairs
you heard they sat in
you find solace in the fact
that you are conscious
of this pervasive madness
that you are not tired of
and never will be
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 9:42 PM UTC
Against the rubber tongues of cows and the hoeing hands of men
Thistles spike the summer air
And crackle open under a blue-black pressure.
Every one a revengeful burst
Of resurrection, a grasphed fistful
Of splintered weapons and Icelandic frost ****** up
From the underground stain of a decayed Viking.
They are like pale hair and the gutturals of dialects.
Every one manages a plume of blood.
Then they grow grey like men.
Mown down, it is a feud. Their sons appear
Stiff with weapons, fighting back over the same ground.
7.5k
They took their arms
and faced the ground
who will rise and who will fall?
the flare is up and now it starts
until the end, until were done.
A fire began
and the night is longer than it used to be
pitch black but it's clear
the smokes and fog are terrible
yet the world is fast asleep
before the dawn breaks
before the sun shines
one goal will be certain
one feud will be settled
I'm alive, I know I am
with one more gasp
I faced the ground
Goodnight..
Goodnight..
Nov 9, 2010
Nov 9, 2010 at 6:07 PM UTC
Little shards of paper
that haunt my passing mood,
I see it's true, it's dead alright,
some decade withered feud.
And yet the paper scrawled and mangled
spells a definite end for thee,
and as I look between those lines,
freedom, there'll be, for me.
Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 8:33 AM UTC
She was a Hatfield
And I a McCoy
It was just love beween
A girl and a boy
Our daddies grandaddies
And those from before
Might think us irreverant
To open that door
She lived two towns over
It was love at first sight....
We would slip out and meet
Every Sat. night
The neighbors all thought
It just wasn't right
But we were in love
And it wasn't our fight
Only two counties apart
She lived in West V
My home was Kentucky
The suitor was me
To us it was foolish
The feud was so old
Even though it was famous
From the tales that were told
She lived two towns over
It was love at first sight....
We would slip out and meet
Every Sat. night
The neighbors all thought
It just wasn't right
But we were in love
And it wasn't our fight
We'd meet after dark
At a barn down the line
We were not feuding people
For that night she was mine
We would run off together
After school was complete
We'd change both our names
We would be real discreet
She lived two towns over
It was love at first sight....
We would slip out and meet
Every Sat. night
The neighbors all thought
It just wasn't right
But we were in love
And it wasn't our fight
Our folks would reject us
And spoil our joy
Cause here was a Hatfield
With a real McCoy
For now, we'll be secret
Share our love cross the fence
And we'll wait till our kin folk
Wake up with some sense
Aug 26, 2012
Aug 26, 2012 at 5:15 PM UTC
Easter party on Saturn
Hi dudes, Briano Alliano at the Saturn club rings and today we have
A few Easter numbers for the cosmic
Sleepers and dead from earth
The first song is Easter is a festival for all
You see we have clowns and bunnies and chickens and
A big Easter egg to crack
You see as we crack it
The chocolate goes everywhere
And the smarties come right out
Saying party over Easter
Party over Easter it's ever do fun
To party over Easter
The Easter bunny, is coming a running over to the Easter party now
So you dudes up here can share Easter till the kind folk find a way
To contact you, so we can party all night
And now here is our next Easter song
Ok it's Easter and you know it celebrate
It's Easter and you know it celebrate
You see Easter is a time to celebrate
With hot cross buns and eggs with colour
It's Easter and you know it
Celebrate
You see it's Easter and you know it
We'll party on
It's Easter and you know it
We'll party on
You see the fabulous Easter bunny , man
Brings the Easter eggs to celebrate
With his clan
It's Easter and you know it
We 'll party on
And now, dudes here is our next song called here comes Peter cottontail
Here comes Peter cottontail
Running down the bunny trail
Picking up the eggs from everywhere
You see he has a powder puff tail
And he enjoys eating snails
From the garden of the queen of hearts every single day
Here comes Peter cotton tail
Up and down the bunny trail
Yeah this is the best Easter that we ever had
Hopping down the Easter trail dropping eggs in each basket oh yeah
Peter Peter little baby Peter
Mighty Peter cottontail skips
Down the trail saying happy Easter
Happy Easter.to us all
And now here is our next Easter song Easter is living living is loving
And a loving family sharing a meal
Celebration a time to party With coloured eggs and chocolate bunnies and a hot cross bin to share
Over a cup of coffee or a dessert for a lovely meal down the club with people you know and love
And then we celebrate a day
For the families who had a rabbit in their house last night or the day
Jesus rose from the dead
Out of his bed, it felt like more of a sleep than death but the bible stayed it as death but Jesus reincarnated on Easter into a few of the farms animals and some people at the dinner table agree with that and some don't agree and it starts an
Easter religion feud ending with
A big happy Easter happy Easter
Happy Easter. And a happy Easter
To all and to all a great night
Then grandmother tells out to the kiddies I think I saw the Easter bunny leave out house this morning
And then asked did he leave you kids anything and then suddenly the
Dinner table had Easter eggs all over it but noone cared for it was Easter dudes happy happy happy hsppy Easter a time to celebrate
And it is a happy Easter from me as well
Happy Easter
And my encore is Easter eggs are tasty
You see we go to the shopping centre and we celebrate oh yeah
The Easter party is for young and old
Yeah this sounds so rad
The eggs are coloured in yellow and blue oh yeah oh yeah
The Easter eggs are tasty
Sent from my iPhone
Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 3:31 AM UTC
The evening shall lay waste to the day
As it retreats over the horizon
The day shall counter strike its way
Up unto the morning
And i'll be waiting and watching as i do
For the end to the neverending feud
And the beginning of true solitude
Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 12:35 AM UTC
She knelt and she pleaded
For a world of peace
She knelt and she pleaded
To save a friend in need
She fought for what is right
While giving all her power and might
Yet there's still the anger
Gripping her tight
It hurt her
To see how her world is fooled
By a prideful man
Who continues the feud
She has accepted the offer
Of death itself
For she knows who she is
And she is the Mockingjay
Nov 22, 2014
Nov 22, 2014 at 5:15 AM UTC
*Pain can be inflicted with suffering so great
By Cruelty’s powerful hand
When she heartlessly touches upon your fate
Taking your life, in her command
Now Terror, is Cruelty’s sister in pain
Jealous and filled with hate
She takes great pleasure in helping her reign
Extreme fear, is their helpmate
Compassionate motions of kindness are extended
When generous Mercy steps into view
One can see a graceful clemency offered, unsaid
In his forgiving eyes, of blue
A state of serenity will begin washing you clean
When sweet Peace enters the case
Holding his vision of Mercy steady and keen
A look of tranquility on his face
Let us not ever forget Pity, the one in the fold
Feeling sorrow over your pain
He will always gently extend his hand to hold
As long, as your suffering remains
However, everything changes when Love steps in
More powerful than all the rest
Overcoming the rampage of Cruelty’s reign
I would say, she is the best*
Sep 24, 2010
Sep 24, 2010 at 6:46 PM UTC
Ring Out, Wild Bells
by Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light;
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.
Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.
Ring out the grief that saps the mind,
For those that here we see no more,
Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
Ring in redress to all mankind.
Ring out a slowly dying cause,
And ancient forms of party strife;
Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.
Ring out the want, the care the sin,
The faithless coldness of the times;
Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes,
But ring the fuller minstrel in.
Ring out false pride in place and blood,
The civic slander and the spite;
Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good.
Ring out old shapes of foul disease,
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.
Ring in the valiant man and free,
The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darkenss of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.
3.4k
Jupiter Mars P Moon
VENEZIA, "May" 19"th", 1910.
Jupiter's foursquare blaze of gold and blue
Rides on the moon, a lilac conch of pearl,
As if the dread god, charioted anew
Came conquering, his amazing disk awhirl
To war down all the stars. I see him through
The hair of this mine own Italian girl,
Adela
That bends her face on mine in the gondola!
There is scarce a breath of wind on the lagoon.
Life is absorbed in its beatitude,
A meditative mage beneath the moon
Ah! should we come, a delicate interlude,
To Campo Santo that, this night of June,
Heals for awhile the immitigable feud?
Adela!
Your breath ruffles my soul in the gondola!
Through maze on maze of silent waterways,
Guarded by lightless sentinel palaces,
We glide; the soft plash of the oar, that sways
Our life, like love does, laps --- no softer seas
Swoon in the ***** of Pacific bays!
We are in tune with the infinite ecstasies,
Adela!
Sway with me, sway with me in the gondola!
They hold us in, these tangled sepulchres
That guard such ghostly life. They tower above
Our passage like the cliffs of death. There stirs
No angel from the pinnacles thereof.
All broods, all breeds. But immanent as Hers
That reigns is this most silent crown of love
Adela
That broods on me, and is I, in the gondola.
They twist, they twine, these white and black canals,
Now stark with lamplight, now a reach of Styx.
Even as out love - raging wild animals
Suddenly hoisted on the crucifix
To radiate seraphic coronals,
Flowers, flowers - O let our light and darkness mix,
Adela,
Goddess and beast with me in the gondola!
Come! though your hair be a cascade of fire,
Your lips twin snakes, your tongue the lightning flash,
Your teeth God's grip on life, your face His lyre,
Your eyes His stars - come, let our Venus lash
Our bodies with the whips of Her desire.
Your bed's the world, your body the world-ash,
Adela!
Shall I give the word to the man of the gondola?
3.4k
So many people into soft drinks think soda is soda
It’s a general subtle to that order
However, there is a feud going on between Sprite and Coke
It may sound like a joke
You might even choke
But to Sprite they have appeal
Then there’s Coke who feel they are for real
Pull out your straws and open a bottle of Coke and Sprite
Let the soda challenge begin
The texture of Sprite in the see thru glass with its lemon and lime
The Coke having its own ingredients with assorted flavor combined
However with every pour
It is the every soda fizz that is galore
Sprite says, “They have the taste that dazzles the mind”
Well Coke responds with, “We have been around since time”
The Coke’s story centered around some Poplar Bears
Well Sprite in that instance can’t compare
Sprite is determined to have the customer obey their thirst
That’s all that matters when doing it first
Well this challenge is really hard to say
But to this poet that is ok
Sprite and Coke both have good taste
Surely I am not going to spend time and make waste
So what if Sprite is clear and Coke is dark
Both have been around and made their mark
This soda challenge is done
It was a matter in thinking soft drink fun.
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 6:47 PM UTC
So I've been thinking lately
What if
he's on a journey out to find himself
reading Hemingway and Emerson (his namesake) and roughing it at Walden Pond
smoking foreign cigars
and staring deep into coffee
to decipher the meaning of the swirls of smoke
that rise from it in the morning?
What if
he's asking ChaCha! the meaning of life
or trying out a new brand of shampoo
or attempting to set a high score on Tetris
or out burning down bridges just to see them ablaze
or doing volunteer work,
reading to disabled children at the local library?
What if
he's decided that this is all too much,
that he'd prefer to live in anonymity
trading his celebrity for secretarial work or carrot-harvesting
or breeding exotic fish
or renting out those inflatable jumping-castles?
What if
he's tired of all those books in Technicolor
all the paparazzi out to get him
and commercialize his favorite beanie
just because he's on vacation because he pulled some strings at the office
thus catapulting him into some movie set halfway across the world?
What if he's sick and tired of them hunting down his girlfriend
his dog
that random wizard mentor guy that's a deadringer for Dumbledore?
What if he would rather sit at home and watch the Game Show Network
and change his name to something boring like John instead of living up to a thinker's expectations?
Or maybe just the opposite, he's just watching Family Feud to pass the time because he WANTS to be a thinker
but doesn't know how?
Or maybe Family Feud just makes him lonely because he doesn't have a real family,
just that evil guy with funny glasses and ****** hair and an awful Hamburglar taste in clothes?
What if he's decided he's on the wrong path
and needs to turn his life around?
What if Waldo doesn't want to be found?
Dec 22, 2009
Dec 22, 2009 at 6:05 PM UTC
October's bellowing anger breaks and cleaves
The bronzed battalions of the stricken wood
In whose lament I hear a voice that grieves
For battle’s fruitless harvest, and the feud
Of outraged men. Their lives are like the leaves
Scattered in flocks of ruin, tossed and blown
Along the westering furnace flaring red.
O martyred youth and manhood overthrown,
The burden of your wrongs is on my head.
3.3k
Headless chickens running aimless toward the almighty dollar
Blindly staring at the knife"s stainless steel amidst all the squaller
My thirsty soul argues against my numb skull to hold a thorough audition
They lewdly feud about potential candidates accrued to search for recognition
They conclude on a suspicion they mutually feared as a result of blind ambition
Search preludes the admission, that I found my dream car with no keys for ignition
Don"t question authority especially when it's the majority
Everyone knows the world is flat and let's just leave it at that
I bought water from you now I have ice to sell
I have a great story but no one worthy to tell
Hindsight should really be at least twenty fifteen
Because to admit we just don"t know is too obscene?
Blissful ignorance"s repugnant scent wafting through the cave
Mindless sheople"s chainlinked brains all dancing at the rave
Fire flickering Shadow puppets tastefully riding the next wave
Puppeteer wizard behind the curtain telling them how to behave
Misaligned redcoated frontline soldiers falsely labeled as brave
Life"s ironic conundrum puzzle, choosing which children to save
Diseased cement steadily drying in a world ever ready to pave
Hungrier than I"ve ever been, yet sickly devoid of things to crave
Oct 9, 2012
Oct 9, 2012 at 5:06 AM UTC
I know I'm falling
but its not my time
reaper I hear you calling my name
but its not my time
Ravaging the fallen
you crawl by my side
slowly looking for the weakness I hide
I feel my heart stop beating
but my soul is still alive
and I'm prepared to fight until I die
Inside the darkness I find the light
I will not fall without a fight
I will take the pain
but won't let you have my soul
its time for me to take back control
from the ashes I will rise
once again to live my life
I know this is not the end
you will return
this feud has just begun..
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 10:15 AM UTC
My spirit is too weak; mortality
Weighs heavily on me like unwilling sleep,
And each imagined pinnacle and steep
Of godlike hardship tells me I must die
Like a sick eagle looking at the sky.
Yet 'tis a gentle luxury to weep,
That I have not the cloudy winds to keep
Fresh for the opening of the morning's eye.
Such dim-conceived glories of the brain
Bring round the heart an indescribable feud;
So do these wonders a most dizzy pain,
That mingles Grecian grandeur with the rude
Wasting of old Time—with a billowy main,
A sun, a shadow of a magnitude.
2.8k
you are the reason and I am the cause
together existing as a single tangible flaw
staring down fate with our hearts entwined
a bitter feud of passionate irrationality showing all the signs
adorned with a conscious need to seek more with time
no time left, the clock strikes midnight
and we go, we go; we keep going on
bringing our hands closer to what we want
pushing through unto dawn with this plight
solidarity benefits the purpose of why
separating all the words between meanings aligned
defining reason alone with blank canvas minds
ready and willing to satiate this place in space and time
decimating indecision with open eyes
combined efforts sought through curiosity
the blank pages wired down with what we know
but what we want has forsaken us without a means to write it all down
carried away with doubt and fear of being burned from the bright sun
still whispering lullabies that help us both stay in the fight
this helpless inspiration is determined by the stronger voice
I wont rest until I reverberate every breath of ours by choice
solemn hours of sleepless nights breaking the lines
between life and love and a scarred heart desperate to redefine
shores lie dormant, ready to drown us under its persistence
every provocation and implication suffers from empty lies
deceiving ourselves, trying to forget the lifetime of pain
deliverance lost in the darkness, seeking to make things right
and I just want to be the one to show you the light
Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 5:52 PM UTC
Pride-- pride has been defined in so many ways. So many different styles that create a feud in discussion of its "true" and actual meaning. Is it leading? A group of people metaphorically representing a kingdom of kings and queens? Is it a downfall of ones self indulgence? Not saying what your heart is internally screaming? maybe it's our hesitation to act? displaying an act of kindness to someone who just may not do the same for us. Is it telling them how you really feel? Sincere Honesty. Or is it just a misunderstood flaw? That society hopes overtime...we learn to drop. Pride. It isn't anything but a word. It isn't a downfall nor a rising moment. It's however YOU as an individual... decides to carry it.
Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 11:50 PM UTC
A pale yellow butterfly weaves in-between the legs of Plai-Jum Pui.
In the middle of the Thai jungle the hard sun beating down,
it tempts this angelic beast with its life.
Trusting in an elephant not to step on you,
Rocking back and forth on the bones of his back.
I guess I've done the same.
A Boeing jet, double decker.
Five hundred and twenty five people balancing on its wings.
The turbulence cradles us back to sleep,
finding motherly comfort in the foreign flight attendants reassuring words.
Having faith in aluminum sheets,
we all drift back to sleep.
A knock on the door and a call from the neighbor,
complaints of boundaries being resisted and property abused.
Fences acting as a seam to a fiery feud.
Guardian of their own selfish wills.
The worst war is fought from within,
a fight with your own kin.
A naive creature is spared its life,
confiding in the unsure and unreliable.
lacking trust for each other,
and burdening these winged seraphs and mothers.
The assumed minor species rely on one another,
having no need for metal protection and a religious buffer.
Nov 20, 2012
Nov 20, 2012 at 3:45 PM UTC
Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light:
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.
Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.
Ring out the grief that saps the mind,
For those that here we see no more;
Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
Ring in redress to all mankind.
Ring out a slowly dying cause,
And ancient forms of party strife;
Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.
Ring out the want, the care, the sin,
The faithless coldness of the times;
Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes,
But ring the fuller minstrel in.
Ring out false pride in place and blood,
The civic slander and the spite;
Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good.
Ring out old shapes of foul disease;
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.
Ring in the valiant man and free,
The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darkness of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.
2.5k
the truth forced a story that only he and she knows
the struggles and ultimate fights that occur regularly
they seem never content without a little disagreement.
they both craved love ,
although both seem to be lusting for different desires
with different flavors,
and different types of taste.
inescapable turmoil
only to be under the sheets of the same bed every night.
Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 1:29 AM UTC
Emasculate Feud,
take his ******* and *****
so that you can travel the Jungian road
of unicorns, rainbows, and pixies
with no ******
Uncle Al Crowley
he died deranged like you-
-your very existence.
--Out of context--
like your quote of James Madison:
To fulfill your nihilist message
of hope without a ******
Freud who knew you all to well,
needs no ***** or *******
to think,
unlike you.
© S. Wesley Mcgranor
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 8:46 PM UTC
. tiky torches, and not football hooligan red flares?! i want gnashing teeth.... the red worm... i want the crude.... waiting feud!
you, don't, make,
dictum, in, this,
part, of, the world!
nein!
you, can, have,
your women!
but, not, the, ego,
of males!
**** you, and your
colonialist past
rewrite!
**** you...
dr. dre, ******
so no, what becomes
musicological
click-bait?!
****** ****** yo **
******* term
gets... owned?!
like *vomito *****
making reference
to the black plague?!
you do your ****** bit,
i do mine...
and we meet in the middle...
and then...
we crash and burn...
for whatever it's worth...
now catch me petting
rottweilers...
heavy headed
craniums...
ready to bullwhip
a gnash of a raiding bullish
cranium head-butt...
just, gagging,
to perform,
the jaw-swapping gnash!
sure... big, bogus,
jaw dropping crude...
of a count of teeth...
but...
i'm itching...
itching to fasten onto a feast
of a fist;
not in eastern europe, ******
you come here...
you play by our rules...
the whole
anti-rap...
the whole
hip hop scene of Warsaw...
no, not really...
i'm not exactly
part of either, "scene"...
god...
i haven't even allowed myself
to use edgy words...
girl worth a *****
but to succumb to motherhood?
i'm a heavy drinker,
i'm not exactly the moralizer;
wrap up, clean the shit-show...
and forget i even
managed to circumstance
a narrative.
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 10:48 PM UTC