"fiercest" poems
I've got the children to tend
The clothes to mend
The floor to mop
The food to shop
Then the chicken to fry
The baby to dry
I got company to feed
The garden to ****
I've got shirts to press
The tots to dress
The can to be cut
I gotta clean up this hut
Then see about the sick
And the cotton to pick.
Shine on me, sunshine
Rain on me, rain
Fall softly, dewdrops
And cool my brow again.
Storm, blow me from here
With your fiercest wind
Let me float across the sky
'Til I can rest again.
Fall gently, snowflakes
Cover me with white
Cold icy kisses and
Let me rest tonight.
Sun, rain, curving sky
Mountain, oceans, leaf and stone
Star shine, moon glow
You're all that I can call my own.
10.1k
"lie still and let it wash over you, the was and is and soon to be.
How frightening yet effervescent the next 24 hours. The lust, and musts of future days revert to the ancient past..."
patty m.
><
the irony!
when I am stilled,
the effervescence of me
unbounded, unleashed, and the torrential rain
of words fulfilling and departing from my interior
I am
a Grand Central Station
of trains labelled
"the was and is and soon to be''
all moving in an unscheduled mayhem,
but never crashing. never accidenting,
only accenting my racing against time,
my oldest and fiercest Super Villian,
and one just knows, never can you beat time,
time, that old rascally up his sleeve card magician,
who when shuffling the deck,
he knows
what was,
what is,
and here his red eyes gleam with satisfaction,
soon to be...
He and I,
old familiar adversaries
addicted to living.
never leave the table,
never leave a *** or
a poem on the felt,
and having always felt,
firm believed,
there will always be one more,
one more gamble, another day,
to write another poem
and turning my cards over
to reveal, to revel,
in my Royal Flush of creativity,
when time, smiling face,
with his
wild card,
**** time,
who trumps me for
it,
in possess of a Five-of-a-Kind(1)
~'
and the new players,
the young poets,
slap me on the back,
saying I had a great run,
but they don't know 'bout my
secret stash,
preprogrammed to appear,
long after these fingers
cease their tangled tango of tap dancing,
my dust,
my lusts and musts
will unstilled yet be
blowing, floating in the
soon to be
so ha!
nml
6:30am
Wed Sep 10
Twenty Twenty Five
Sep 10, 2025
Sep 10, 2025 at 8:42 AM UTC
*I'd befriend the obsidian sky...
I'd shower it with a bounty of praises.
So that it'll welcome my nightly gaze,
without threats from overbearing clouds.
I'd impress the twinkling stars
by serenading them with songs unheard by most.
So that when the time comes,
they'd cast their votes in my favour.
I'd whisper to the nighttime breeze.
I'd cavort and giggle at its slightest touch.
So that when I fly my flag,
it'll catch it in full billows for her to see.
Then finally...
I'd woo the twilight moon...
For she is the prize
my heart had sought to pursue.
I'd court her
with the fiercest blaze that burns within...
In hopes that she'd forever
remember me as the suitor that had
fallen helplessly.*
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 11:03 AM UTC
she’s the girl who sets a room on fire with laughs or real flame,
and she stands in that same flame; ranting about herself
with blissful intention:
aries.
she’s the girl who mows the lawn all day to throw a memorable party
on perfectly pitched grass; but then spends the entire party
with that one guy on that one roof, just the two of them:
taurus.
she’s the girl who ***** you fiercest only to then display sudden and
crippling bouts of madness; she’s one of a kind, or two of a kind,
and she means some kind of love:
gemini.
she’s the girl who you fall for so easily, and she falls for you so easily,
and everything is a dream; but a dream transforms, seasons transform,
and the peopled cities with them:
cancer.
she’s the girl who steals the show every time, and she leans on you
when she’s tired and lonely; she reads science fiction books
and tells you all the endings, strange planets fixtured in her dreams:
leo.
she’s the girl who thinks too much, drinks too much, and weighs you for all
your words; but words are her demise as she digs her arms deeper
into the dirt to catch that feeling:
virgo.
she’s the girl who piles a shrine of shiny occult objects and spools through
men like shiny other objects; she has a beautiful heart, holy or not,
but without a doubt, entirely stylish:
libra.
she’s the girl who doesn't believe a ******* thing you say but kisses you
harder when you say it; she takes you up the hill to her folks
and they sacrifice you for blood mana:
scorpio.
she’s the girl who knows you best and knows even better she’s far beyond
the depths of your league; she has deafening dreams, with or without
you in them; for ruins she will climb or create:
sagittarius.
she’s the girl who buys the popcorn and eats the popcorn and sulks on
the couch while tonguing kernels out of her teeth; she will never
truly love you, just the idea of you:
capricorn.
she’s the girl who saves your life with a tracheotomy when you nearly die
on that plum street seed; she will leave you for a another man, a man
with a good rifle and a warm little tent:
aquarius.
she’s the girl who sees synchronicity in all things, all life, all dreams
and emanations; she will love you until the smell of mexico drags her
away upon a neverending weekend:
pisces.
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 6:38 AM UTC
An agent of assonance,
An army of alliteration,
A conquistador of climaxes,
A fighter with form,
A marksman of motif,
A mercenary of metaphors,
A ninja of nuances,
A raider of rhyme,
A soldier of synonyms,
A vigilante of voice,
I strike with the fiercest of sentences,
With such clarity and no false pretenses,
I assail with the mightiest of swords,
I am a warrior of words.
Aug 10, 2018
Aug 10, 2018 at 8:18 AM UTC
The stars try to shine
Down through indifferent clouds.
Her tears mix with rain
and water her path
defining the moments
Of forever.
Love is the fiercest part
of her being.
Though she struggles to
find it’s authenticity
Hiding her codes
behind barbwire and thorns.
Her hands are bloodstained
in the hours of time.
She is mysterious
With many latitudes
Calling from a different
Kind of universe.
Yet she walks that path of stones
Believing she is a different
Person than the one she leaves
on the trail .
Walking away from that
Hushed comfort of
understated majesty.
Hearing music amid
The squalor of verse
With strangers who love
among the poetic’s
of language.
I grow tired of the
Deep waters
I’m learning to navigate
the shallows
Where purring oratory
Captures me and leaves
Me spellbound beyond
All measures and time .
Mar 22, 2018
Mar 22, 2018 at 10:36 PM UTC
She let my hand lay in hers
as she tapped it firm and rhythmal.
I knew I needed this moment with her,
but could not look her in the eyes.
She started.
You think you don't deserve true love.
I smiled. I'm such a walk-around cliché.
*You put on this act of *** godess
because you feel that's the only way to get male attention.*
Now I just sound like a ***** I'm not that weak.
You think every man will leave.
Boo-hoo, ******* bridget jones's diary
Because he left you.
That hit me.
Suddenly I was crying.
Not just tears, it was crying at its fiercest form.
I was howling,
every gram of pain dripped out of me.
She held me.
I felt clean.
I repeated after her.
Even though I'm afraid of being left alone again
She kept tapping.
I accept myself
I looked at her
and I love myself
Apr 12, 2013
Apr 12, 2013 at 10:19 PM UTC
are you collecting the old counts of how
they slaughtered your son and his power-hungry heart,
twenty three knives to the torso,
the killing blow delivered by a beloved friend?
or are those the scrolls that you wish
dust would settle over forever, relics and reliefs of
everything you see behind your closed eyelids.
a politician’s mother
must be all the more clever; her son will not
be going into battle to die with honor
but rather with deceit. give her-- you-- a laurel wreath,
the irony of the goddess nike standing
golden over the tomb of your son: emperor,
caesar. mother of summer, of boiling july,
are you not the sun? are you not the constellations
freckling burnt pale skin? are you not
the fiercest and brightest of warriors, quietly,
without warning?
Nov 4, 2017
Nov 4, 2017 at 12:24 AM UTC
A man he wrote the book
A book for all and none
About a life spent leaning
Leaning towards the sun
In search of all a greatness
His life a distant run
A battle for a giant
He reaches for the sun
On a field of giants
Merely flesh and blood
He disregards the mismatch
And stretches for the sun
Life the fiercest battle
A war that’s never won
Commits his life to reaching
Reaching for the sun
He asks the aged pastor
Disillusioned as the nun
Confides in self and marches on
Onward towards the sun
Saw life and fortune a lady
Took a chance with love
Traded breast and beauty
Traded it for the sun
His only life a sacrifice
A gamble for a goal
With faith and strength he pushes on
He strains his empty soul
Tried to be a good man
Emulates Christ the son
Grounded broken wings he *****
Tragically towards the sun
To advance the course of history
Alexander, Caesar, the ***
A martyr for the western world
He reaches for the sun
To hold the mighty leviathan
With gear to catch a cod
Born with a head of a *******
He aspires to be a god
And oh his quest does beckon
Failure certain done
What else can he do
He reaches for the sun
To god he clings his anchor
Sworn service to God and Son
Hopelessly he leans
Leaning towards the son
Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 7:06 PM UTC
My mother is dying.
It is a process. Days pass,
She neither eats or drinks,
Yet she lives on.
I watch each labored exhalation,
A subtraction, a countdown.
It is as if she was returning each singular day,
Every prayer uttered, answered and unanswered,
Every word e're spoke, every dream dreamt,
She ever possessed to the atmosphere,
For sharing, for recalling, for retelling,
One breath at a time.
~~~~~~~~~
Lipstadt-Roth, Miriam née Peiman, 1915~2013,
passed peacefully Sat. July 20th.
Critic, speaker, writer,
her fiercest feat,
her leading role, creator.
A near century of memories
her legacy, memories that
linger not, for incised,
chiseled in the granite of the
books, papers, and poetry
and the very being
of her descendants.
Her faith in Almighty,
unflagging, for he did not
forsake her in the time of
her old age, when
her strength failed.
Jul 20, 2013
Jul 20, 2013 at 12:53 PM UTC
In your world there are magnetic lines that draw your needle North. Polaris and the Great Bear guide you home from clear moonlit skies, so that you may stumble into your hearth at night. I was told that in my heart was a compass rose, with a needle like yours, pointed and true. But my directions are undifferentiated. Ursa hides behind dark clouds and the magnetosphere is interrupted by the fiercest of solar winds. The needle fights to find North caught in an endless loop. The way home is unknown. But somewhere I know you are waiting for me to arrive, for the storms to pass. You would wait a thousand years. And though my compass is broken, I am reaching out my arms to find my way through the brush. And someday I will find you.
Jul 31, 2013
Jul 31, 2013 at 5:56 AM UTC
The Raven Queen came from simple country roots
No royal silver spoon did she carry
Raised by unpretentious witches holding great wisdom
Old Gertrude, Esmeralda and Tregarry
Three witches known as spiritual leaders of the valley
Of lowly peasants and abundant woods
Raised her up simply infused with a fiery spirit
Proclaiming the law of the land to be good
Two faces reigned within the leaders and peasants
One which was shown to The Law
The other kept hidden as they lowly bowed to the wind
Praising the moon and icy snow as it thawed
A tale of hidden woe these three leaders carried
Unbeknown to the Raven Queen
Of her true heritage and the tainted gold they kept
From the night Old Death intervened
Old Death quietly crept in on her birthing night
Stole her sweet mother away
Yet for a fee the wise leaders took her in to love
Knowing who she would be one day
An eager student their young queen became
Learning the wisdom of the truth
Quite an apprentice in the ways of the wind
She became early in her youth
All at once the fiercest Winter ever known to the valley
Brought in terrible winds and bitter snow
The young queen watched as the peasants trembled
As savage wolves entered their fold
Great hunger came to the valley along with Old Death
Dissension was called into play
Soon, each of the leaders knew the time had come
To teach her the dark side of their ways
She was pulled from light into the darkest shadows
To embrace her own true destiny
Her dark light shone through the woods and the valley
Bringing the savage wolves to bay
Fear of the Raven Queen’s light spread from the valley
Coursing through the veins of The Law
Sending in fierce horsemen thundering with vengeance
Her own lifeblood they came to draw
She answered their thundering with her own call
Heads for heads, raging fire with ice
Saving the ones who took her under their wings
Returning their tainted gold at a price
Sep 12, 2010
Sep 12, 2010 at 1:58 PM UTC
It is the greatest act of courage
to remain soft in a world so rigid
Only the fiercest of us will
plunge into the depths of emotion
Illuminating even our darkest corners
for everyone to see
This is not weakness
This is vulnerability
And if love is the greatest
force in the universe
Then maybe strong is all
we ever have been
And all we ever could be
-Shakti o.m.
Aug 29, 2016
Aug 29, 2016 at 10:51 PM UTC
We are never free of our Demons
We learn to ignore them
We learn to drown them out
We learn to live with them
Or we get drowned by them
And don't live at all
Our Demons only want one thing
They want to see you squirm
They want to see you give up
They want to see you fail
But you must not
There comes a time you must face them
When you face them
It seems like you against an army
It seems like you against the world
It seems like you against yourself
Because you are fighting yourself
You are your own fiercest Arch-Demon
After you accept this
You can finally conquer yourself
You can finally conquer the Demons that come from without
You can finally conquer even the world itself
And make it tremble
Before your awesome might
But be forewarned
These Demons are powerful
These Demons are smart
These Demons are adaptable
They are all of these things
Because you are all of these things
Aug 23, 2013
Aug 23, 2013 at 3:19 PM UTC
She is the sweetest
The loveliest
The warmest
The kindest
Person I'll ever know
Who never wavered
In the weirdest
In the craziest
In the wildest
Moods and rotten days
Who holds my hand
In the the darkest
In the scariest
In the toughest
Times I've ever faced.
She dives the deepest
She goes the furthest
She fights the fiercest
Holds out the longest
For her prince and princesses.
That's why she is
The angriest
And the maddest
And the saddest
When I keep settling
For less than best.
She cheers me on
With a smile that is the brightest
With a love so selfless
With support so endless
That never changes
In every rise and every fall
When everything is hopeless
Her faith is the biggest
Still so fearless
Points to the Greatest
Who is the Reason for it all
She cries the hardest
She hurts the deepest
She's the most imperfect
The most human person I know
Still I'm using all the superlatives
Because she deserves the best
She's my mom
And I love her so.
After all the years of service
Your mom deserves a rest
It's her turn to be the princess
And remind her that she's
The sweetest
The kindest
The loveliest
The warmest
The noblest
And that in all these years so tireless
Countless lives were touched and blessed.
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 3:54 PM UTC
They talk of short-lived pleasure--be it so--
Pain dies as quickly; stern, hard-featured pain
Expires, and lets her weary prisoner go.
The fiercest agonies have shortest reign;
And after dreams of horror, comes again
The welcome morning with its rays of peace.
Oblivion, softly wiping out the stain,
Makes the strong secret pangs of pain to cease:
Remorse is virtue's root; its fair increase
Are fruits of innocence and blessedness;
Thus joy, o'erborne and bound, doth still release
His young limbs from the chains that round him press.
Weep not that the world changes--did it keep
A stable, changeless state, 'twere cause indeed to weep.
2.3k
Optimist
In the midst of chaos
You open up pathways
To a brighter future
Optimist
When all others depart
Looking for safety
Smiling, you set to work
Optimist
You are never defeated
You always continue
Braver than the fiercest enemy
Optimist
The words you speak
Are fresh and fragrant
Like the purest of roses
Optimist
Though some think you crazy
Sneer and call you dreamer
It’s you who change everything
Optimist
You stand alone
Inspiring fresh hope
You are the victor
Optimist
You believe the impossible
And then make it possible
Rousing brave hearts, to realise peace
Dec 30, 2015
Dec 30, 2015 at 4:55 PM UTC
Oh California!
How my heart burns for you,
how beautiful you are!
The greenest trees and the most picturesque beaches.
The soft sands of the desert,
and the rolling slopes of the foothills.
My body, my mind, my spirit, all belong to you, oh Great and Wonderful! California.
Your hills are on fire,
scarring the beauty of your curves.
Your rivers run dry,
suffocating the green into brown.
How my heart cries for you! Oh dry, oh burning, oh how relentless this war against you, oh California! And there is no relief in sight, winter promises no respite, and the summer will be long and tough and dry like the ones before and before and before.
Oh California!
How I tremble, how I shake in awe,
your sun burns a bright orange,
smoke fills your sunsets,
even fire cannot detract from your beauty!
Oh cleansing rains!
Oh cleansing El Niño!
Oh how I beg you to save California!
My California!
My roots go deeper than that of the greatest redwood, California is my home, and not the most fearsome of fires could cause me to leave, not the fiercest and most ruthless of droughts could scare me away!
Oh California!
Let my tears be absorbed by your thirsty soil!
Let my body one day feed your hungry crops!
Oh California! I am yours, to the very last.
God bless California!
God bless the desert and the mountains!
God bless the foothills and the valleys!
God bless the beaches and the forests!
God bless my home and spare it from the relentless.
California is my God, and I hope she hears my prayers!
Sep 17, 2015
Sep 17, 2015 at 11:02 PM UTC
She was sewn from a stream
of significant disasters,
but she has taken charge of the tide.
Directing the course of the storm,
she became one with the fiercest gyre.
The lightning, the moment
through the raging sea,
the season of her storm is done.
The smell of the after-rain,
the calmness of the shores mended the remnants.
A rainbow of colors and vibrance, the abundance of black clouds is gone.
The beautiful sky,
a magical release
from these painful bonds.
Courage and kindness,
gratitude and strength,
the real treasures are now found.
Jun 11, 2022
Jun 11, 2022 at 7:15 PM UTC
With guilt writ all over your face,
Twiddling your fingers just like you would
When as a little child
You'd make some mistake,
Shuffling your feet nervously
Like you would when you'd fail a test
Or get a note from school,
You stood in front of me,
My precious, my beautiful,
Who I'd caught hidden under the quilt,
Head buried beneath pillows,
Crying muffled cries of pain.
You finally made eye contact, I know
You waited for my trademark eye roll
For an admonishment, for a
"See, I told you so!"
But dear, before you declared me
As your fiercest enemy, did you ever wonder
That you, the girl- broken, shaken, yet defiant,
Once lived inside of me?
Love created you
And for the following thirty seven weeks
And twenty two
Days you grew within me,
Bit by bit, cell by cell,
Each moment we spent together,
Sealed our souls,
We were best friends even before you were born.
I'd be lost, forlorn all day at work
When I'd leave you behind at home,
You too would find contentment when finally
You'd feed from your mother's *****
I've seen you crawl,
Seen you stumble,
Helped you on your feet when you'd fall,
I've laughed when you've cackled,
I've cried when you have shed a single tear,
I'm a being conjoined to every emotion you feel,
So, my Inaayat dear,
Instead of crying behind closed doors,
And saying "It's okay" without
meeting my gaze,
You should've walked up to me,
Informed me about the time and place,
And mother-daughter, we'd embark
To bash up that ruthless villain
Who broke your delicate heart.
Nov 22, 2013
Nov 22, 2013 at 2:07 PM UTC
Her prayers are
Breathy I love you's,
Warm and pained against your skin.
Your body is her altar,
Her temple,
The cathedral surrounding her
In her heartbroken worship
As she unravels,
Crying,
Shaking,
Clinging to you with
Everything
She
Has
Left.
The shattered pieces
Of her heart are the broken winged swallows,
Flocking in fluttering storms
In your bell tower,
Nesting in your rafters
Alongside the owls you've let be
To this point,
Content to allow them to roost.
Her hands are your bibles,
The creases telling a thousand stories
Of the girl who weathers the fiercest storms,
But falls apart at the seams
For love of you.
Your laughter serves as her hymns,
Ringing through the expanse of you,
Singing in her ears.
Sometimes she tries
Laughing alongside you,
But her voice cracks
Like an untuned piano
Whenever she opens her lips
To add her laughter to
Your songbooks.
You each find a different kind of heaven
In the stained glass windows
Of the other's eyes.
Hers are the ocean,
Deep and stormy,
Only ever calm
Just before lightning shakes her frame,
Rain and froth
Pounding
Against the glass,
Breaking it's way through,
Trying to flood your halls
As the tempest carves new legends
In her outstretched hands;
New biblical stories to lose yourself in.
She finds summer nights in your gaze,
Bonfires dappling damp grass,
And a boy
Laying on the hood of a run down car,
Staring too intently at the stars
To truly register their fragility,
Their mortality,
Even as they plummet from the sky,
Bursts of white light
Reflecting gold through green glass.
The comet-light ripples,
Climbing to the rafters,
Startling the owls from their perches,
And you can feel them thrumming,
Beating their wings against the ceiling of your ribs.
k. f.
Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 5:57 PM UTC
1031
Fate slew Him, but He did not drop—
She felled—He did not fall—
Impaled Him on Her fiercest stakes—
He neutralized them all—
She stung Him—sapped His firm Advance—
But when Her Worst was done
And He—unmoved regarded Her—
Acknowledged Him a Man.
2k
Can you hear the call of splendid change ringing in the air
The voice of fate resounding in a roar
You can call the sound you hear coincidence if you like
I believe that fortune is knocking at your door
You have spent your life preparing for a beautiful dream
To be painted in your heart like a rainbow
This promise is ringing in the air, resounding like thunder
Will you hear the call of your dream, or let it go
Within your heart lies the courage of the fiercest lion
Enfolded in your strength of compassion
This you have built in a lifetime of steady preparation
To follow your dreams and your passions
Look upwards into the heavens at the clearest sky
See the rainbow you know your heart is due
Good fortune is knocking with the brightest sunshine
Fate has painted that rainbow for you
Aug 16, 2010
Aug 16, 2010 at 1:55 PM UTC