"guileful" poems
a lot of people I know
are never really happy
even when they’re happy, they’re really just sad
a lot of people I know
settle for just about anything
they’ll settle for emotional abuse and then settle for a deep addiction to feel better about the emotional abuse they’re letting themselves prostrate to
as long as it can still make “living” seem feasible,
they’ll settle
because nobody taught them how to ask for what they want,
so all this time they never ******* knew they were granted permission to feel worthy of getting what they want
because this world likes to think that nobody is entitled to feel worthy or to give into clarity
a lot of people I know
get off on damaging themselves
because blood and burns and bones and ***** and *** and pills and puke
are such disgusting in-your-face secrets
and this world knows it’s not acceptable to just blatantly write
“I hate myself” on your forehead with permanent marker for everyone else to see
yes, this stupid, guileful world we live in decided to trick everyone into believing that secrecy and suppression are what make a person
interesting and loveable
a lot of people I know
have this wicked demon inside of them
and they like to imagine it looks like a fiery nightmare,
red like terror
with a devilish face; poisonous eyes and a heartless grin;
a face that says “I own you”
just so that they can reinforce their ideas of worthlessness
and the self-pity of not having true control over themselves
when really, they can always have true control whenever they want
what a lot of people I know don’t know is that
that wicked demon thing inside of them
is really just a flower wilting, starving, dying,
waiting, hoping, longing to be watered
and wondering what the **** they did
to be tortured like this
Jun 13, 2013
Jun 13, 2013 at 11:24 AM UTC
it is beautiful
it is majestic
and it is guileful
and is eccentric
a speck on the tower of wall
that bridges and connects
two different enthralls
even fate dare not object
i was on its foot,
for i sought to grasp
and tried to peek
on the place it leads
i listen to the jarring echoes
the other side is full; a chaos
it seems, but i felt solace
in its mournful yet soulful melody
i heard words that are familiar
those that i chose to blur
in my being for a long strife
that i dwell to keep inside in an eternity
i ought to release the beautiful words
that is long chained
i long to feel the majestic emptiness
and sense the other side that is zestful
and clutch onto its empathetic possibilities
only if it bridges to a multitude,
only if perspective it will connect,
only if it is not unchained,
only if it is opened.
Aug 16, 2022
Aug 16, 2022 at 7:17 PM UTC
What guile is this, that the Inventor of Change is cruel,
He invests not his ears on the sweat of the poor and helpless;
Like a tyrant, he feeds sweet tears to ants for a gruel,
Is he not guilty of false hope of Change to the hopeless?
How is it that he's different from his own self
In that he considers not the interest of the termites,
And being voted in by ants, is now a Mighty elf;
Is he not deceptive in his honest dealings with termites?
We must change the CHANGE, for cunning is his agenda,
Henceforth, must we not be enslaved in his guileful net
In that he entrapped the poor ants to enrich his blender,
Out of his duplicity, must we by all means be fret.
Folly it was, that he promised us as Change
To covet beacons of wealth, from the hopeless ants,
Is he not guilty of prophesying false prophesies of Change?
We must Change the CHANGE for the safety of the helpless ants.
He pledged Change, but chained the CHANGE, and left us hopeless,
Is he not guilty of duplicity, and sabotage of the nation's economy?
None of his agenda was in the interest of the poor and helpless;
We must Change the CHANGE, for CHANGE threatens the economy.
Sep 26, 2016
Sep 26, 2016 at 7:47 PM UTC
The fire in her eyes tonight
calls forth the thought that they invite,
though I recall, not long ago
my absence seemed more apropos.
The smile that lingers on her lips
says more than many verbal slips -
the times it pierced me, sad and grim
lie in the past, though far from dim.
She flayed me once... nay, more than twice,
she flayed me both with flame and ice,
and once again, predictably,
she primes me for catastrophe.
The curious naively watch
her try to carve a deeper notch,
for even they don’t claim to know
the depths to which she’d really go.
Upon my face a smile appears
which hides my thoughts, obscures my sneers,
for now I too have learned the rules
from her - ah, yes, the best of schools.
Because I’m acting somewhat cool,
thus pouring on her fire, fuel,
she burns and yearns and wants me more
than when I was her cuspidor.
Since, unbeknownst I’m not the same,
she plans again her guileful game.
But when her teardrops seep and swell,
will she be proud she taught me well?
The others leave, I stay behind
(they all know what she has in mind)
and take her in my arms once more
then slip her through her bedroom door.
She whispers secrets in my ear,
as I once did (she didn’t hear);
I listen with a mirthless smile
while thinking of a desert isle.
The night is passed, her trusting grows;
I leave before the morning glows.
Aroused, she’ll seek a waking thrill
but find instead a dollar bill.
May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 7:48 PM UTC
Under thousand looming stars
Stamped in the night black sky
Where all the opputunities fly.
On the cold dew-covered ground
Standing under the star dust blanket
I realise my own insignificance.
Here, where kings and queens govern
Everything seems too substantial
Even your own image is so ambigous.
Complexity of life is beautiful as nature
The soul and heart of humans, fair
Or demonish and guileful, evil and sly
What guides your soul must be just
Like the universe in its brilliant grandeur
Simple love as the first step to generosity.
Jul 2, 2017
Jul 2, 2017 at 7:34 PM UTC
Just more flesh;
man created God,
for his benefit.
Because he knows no better
without biological and psychological structure
--no longer a threat--.
Goes the monstrosity
with its guileful regulation:
suddenly God is made anew.
© S. Wesley Mcgranor
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 3:29 PM UTC
Aug. 12. 1653.
Jehovah to my words give ear
My meditation waigh
The voyce of my complaining hear
My King and God for unto thee I pray.
Jehovah thou my early voyce
Shalt in the morning hear
Ith’morning I to thee with choyce
Will rank my Prayers, and watch till thou appear.
For thou art not a God that takes
In wickedness delight
Evil with thee no biding makes
Fools or mad men stand not within thy sight.
All workers of iniquity
Thou wilt destroy that speak a ly
The bloodi’ and guileful man God doth detest.
But I will in thy mercies dear
Thy numerous mercies go
Into thy house; I in thy fear
Will towards thy holy temple worship low.
Lord lead me in thy righteousness
Lead me because of those
That do observe if I transgress,
Set thy wayes right before, where my step goes.
For in his faltring mouth unstable
No word is firm or sooth
Their inside, troubles miserable;
An open grave their throat, their tongue they smooth.
God, find them guilty, let them fall
By their own counsels quell’d;
Push them in their rebellions all
Still on; for against thee they have rebell’d;
Then all who trust in thee shall bring
Their joy, while thou from blame
Defend’st them, they shall ever sing
And shall triumph in thee, who love thy name.
For thou Jehovah wilt be found
To bless the just man still,
As with a shield thou wilt surround
Him with thy lasting favour and good will.
1.2k
Where are you in this midnight sky?
as not too long from here
your lips grazed mine
Chanel Rouge Allure ever lasting
remains.
I still have traces of
tram marks left by
Vamp Rouge Noir nails and
I trace your soul on each
& every scratch.
You winked as you left
you said in such guileful ways
you must know
I always come back
you just never know
how long it'll be.
For as predictable as
we are - a pair of boomerangs
knowing we'll always be
reunified by powers far greater
than us -
we never know when or how,
even why.
Where are you in this midnight sky?
if I count the times
my missing you is felt,
it's as futile as
******* for virginity.*
The mere distance between
you & I -untangible, immeasurable.
For as long as our souls
inevitably bounce back,
that time, that space in
star filled nights
& crescent moon skies
become a vacuum of all
lost or loved.
Every time we meet our
halogen balloon hearts
*rise
rise
rise*
&
in a time span unfathomable
sinking
Velociously.
© Sia Jane
Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 8:48 PM UTC
THis is the decisive juncture .
Where you comprehend it never ends, just die. This is the space where death decays. Drowning in cocktail of poison and pride.
You wish you were a little wise.
To have seen through the guileful eyes. To have known better of silly vows. Needlessly fell for the tragic demise .
I was a believer, for a while'
Hope bred eternal misery .
This is the tale of treachery. The garden of love seeded with lies. Here reality intertwines. Trespassers shot at sight. No strings, no sighs.
Well, nothing is better some times .
Love on sale. Grandest deal. As lovable as they come.
Assurance fails .
Now is the aggressive trice ;
This is when you eat yourself alive .
Dec 14, 2018
Dec 14, 2018 at 1:51 PM UTC
Utilize the practices and maneuvers developed in Hell
Watch the coherence of the corroded coercion
A little birdy told you to ignore the tingly feeling on the nape of your neck
And to use a little elbow grease to try and heal this place of its discord
The leave posthaste
Or so I've heard
Years have passed now a mountebank calls all those who suffer from foot-in-mouth issues, racing minds, unjoggable memories and anyone who's psychiatrist couldn't shrink their problems
"Come one, come all! Try the new elixir that with one taste all your worries, all your hardships, all your dreadful nightmares incarnate will vanish in an instant!"
A large crowd made up of rogues, shot messengers, plate scrapers, date rapers accused of buggery, banished bums and exiled urchins, frail victims of nit picking and guileful gimmicks now surround the platform and end table stacked with tiny bottles of cloudy liquid
"It will help you pass a drug test, prevent you from waking up on the wrong side of the bed and you'll be able to recite the alphabet backwards!"
"Yes! You heard it here first, Doctor Meerkatt's Magic Elevating Elixir!"
"Now in a variety of four fruity flavors"
And coming soon, Dr. Meerkatt's Fast-acting Magic Elevating Elixir!"
Lines form
One for those who wish to take their's home and drink it
One for those desirous for mainline vaccinations
I go on neither line, I'm not susceptible to theses types of things
But I could be if given enough grief and desperation
I've seen this act before
I've seen all the mind readers
All the fortunetellers
All the traveling sales people
Who collectively have the same goal
To attempt to sell some product or idea that seems worthwhile but in reality is nothing more than a cheap farce that you pay for with your milk money and your intelligence
I'll leave these scavenger hunts for trinkets of cures and hopes for the naive ones and the thoughtless adrenaline junkies who's minds will be abducted by some quack or prevaricator and their ignorant rants
Their "ignor-rants"
It just pains me to see you be a part of all this, my old friend
You were once a caring, cautious person
Now you're an abstract con artist
Now you're just Dr. Meerkatt
Aug 12, 2014
Aug 12, 2014 at 3:17 PM UTC
Falling (I won't fall in)
Falling (I won't fall in)
I won't fall in
Won't fall in
Falling (I won't fall in)
Falling (I won't fall in)
I won't fall
Don't try to call my phone (I won't fall)
All you'll hear is a tone. (I won't fall)
And boy, you should've known. (I won't fall in)
I don't even need you.
Me and my squad we're fine just with us.
We need no sod to make sure we don't fuss.
Kiss my ****
I've heard enough.
I ain't messing with you.
I ain't messing, messing
Champagne glass,
Hold it at your side.
Splash it in his face.
Leave him to abide,
Abide.
Splash it in his face.
I don't even need you.
I won't fall in
I won't fall in
(No) I won't fall in
Ah hell naw!
I won't fall in
I won't fall in
Ah hell naw!
First you said I was needy,
Now you call me greedy.
Once you said I was lying,
But now you come to me crying,
And I give no craps about it
Not just because I doubt it
It's exactly what you've done
So accept that you'll get none.
I don't even need you (You'll get none)
I don't even need you
I don't even need you
I don't even need you
So **** off!
Waiting at our table for our small date,
Wondering if you're able to set yourself straight.
You've always got some ******** answer.
I hope that someday you'll get some candor.
In our lonely bedroom,
I've left a box from before our doom,
My ex-groom.
But I am ******* nobody.
Pour a glass for our life
In the land of dreaming
Where I am your loving wife.
If you could've stopped scheming,
I would still be at your side.
Our hopes are now guileful (guileful)
And our memories are painful (painful)
But now its source is unplugged (unplugged)
And I feel even more loved.
You only need me as an alibi.
Now all you've got is a goodbye. (goodbye, goodbye)
All you've got is a goodbye.
Mar 13, 2017
Mar 13, 2017 at 11:55 PM UTC
Cats upon a summer’s day
lying indolently down,
black and white, and silver-grey,
tabby, golden, ginger, brown,
on the catmint sprawled at ease,
breathing its sublime aroma,
shape their visions as they please
in a slumbrous catmint-coma.
Lands with rivers full of cream
stuffed with every kind of fish,
trout and salmon, plaice and bream,
fresh-cooked on a silver dish;
Cushion-trees with leaves of silk,
if a cat should seek repose,
overhang the Lake of Milk
where Roast-Chicken Forest grows.
Lean and hungry mogs and toms
grow to an enormous fatness
where nor dog nor human comes
to disturb their perfect Catness.
Dreaming in the afternoon
with closed eyes and folded paws,
cats regain their wits, and soon
they unsheathe their polished claws.
When the sun between the trees
stripes the lawn with blacks and golds,
tiger-cats, with guileful ease
prowl among the marigolds.
Feb 23, 2017
Feb 23, 2017 at 6:53 PM UTC
Your soul is precious
Filled with the sounds of the forest
And the crashing of waves
The power of an ocean
Crashing through your veins
Break the mirror before you
For that guileful glass will never reflect
The beauty beneath your skin
There is nothing inside you
That is not galactic
Take the splintered glass
And release the galaxies within you
Pinpricks of light
Floating eternally upwards
Into the expanse of deepening darkness
That settles over the Earth
Spreading interstellar light
Upon a stagnant land
Behind your eyes, a sun rises
Warm amongst a barren waste
Skies of purple, pink, and blue
Are better than sitting in the dark
Flowers bloom from within
They reap beauty and sorrow
From the darkness in your heart
Swaying with your life force
As it flows through you
Powerful wind whips through your mind
While the peace of a summer rain
Softly calms your beating heart
With a lullaby of raindrops
You have nature in your heart
And galaxies in your veins
And for this, my dear
You are strong
Oct 27, 2019
Oct 27, 2019 at 1:44 PM UTC
give me water, give me fire,
let me scribe with blood my ire
emblazon vellum with his name
blot it out, end his game
languid, lazy, sunny summers,
blackened by the bombinating
darts of death from droning drummers,
breath of babies desecrating,
permeating peculiar fragrance
hypnotised by his own cadence
avuncular charm to the rabble
made himself a Tower of Babel
as he faces interlocutor
forked tongue slithering with sick ease
he the notorious persecutor
refusing onus of war-freeze
proffering peace with guileful lips
whilst he plans apocalypse
ignore the innocent, defile the dying,
hell created through his lying
O give me fire, give me water,
let me scribe with blood his slaughter
let me scrub out cursed name
blot it out and end his game
Oct 31, 2022
Oct 31, 2022 at 5:59 PM UTC
Shame has overwhelmed me,
like a mucous film between
me and reality.
Feelings came to the light,
eight years old, and now dead...
long ago on our way, we helped each other...
kindness was then massing, quasi in stack.
We were broken like old bones,
though we were packed with youngness:
life was the aim, one common, eternal and pleasant,
but one rupture has sealed and other ones just deepened.
An era has ended,
there was no windup.
Light had escaped our mutual darkness.
We were also guileful,
one coward, the other deceitful,
but some moments still stab me in the heart, once in a while.
As I've become a new man,
someone else brought me further ahead,
we found the common ground
and the bliss-spark growing into a blazing light.
Yet, sometimes on my neck, it's sitting...
the mucous shame is sardonically laughing at me.
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 9:23 PM UTC