"hormonally" poems
bow down to women
your superior
admit it
deep down inside
you know men are inferior
always *****
hormonally driven
a slave
to their desire
whacking off
watching ****
chronically ************
for six hours a day
in modern times
men are useless
obsolete
it's a new age
of girl power
female **********
gynarchy
Aug 27, 2021
Aug 27, 2021 at 4:35 PM UTC
That which Boils Toils
the product of my affection
May I make an interjection,
I may be at a spike,
my mind may be filled with spite,
and that's right, I am more than probably,
more than likely
overly hormonally irrationally irate.
Instigated, mind you, by your subterfuge,
incessant, noncovalent, depressant,
actions of will will make me seethe.
For my seething wreathing rampage feels so good.
Too good,
ice that cascades down your back on a stark hot summer day
The ice, tiny razors cutting tracks down your back.
Racing beads toward the finish line.
And it feels sublime
The pain of the chill counters the pain of the heat.
And that's how I feel when we meet
at that place where I become a monster.
My chill blown westward
counters the visceral heat in my breast.
That heat that makes me want to beat sticks and drums
and call in my army
It alarms me
That's why I whisper
And shy away
And sulk, because the Hulk is who I'm keeping at bay
My enemy is not the one with eyes searching for me,
but my Jealousy who is at war within me.
Aug 11, 2012
Aug 11, 2012 at 6:38 AM UTC
Drifting, drowning in obsession,
Well, maybe, not really,
Able at last in words,
To release the one and only, Livvi,
Welcome in the real me,
On the way to feeling free!
Don't do religion,
Never will,
Biological science, my believing thrill,
Human being...or been,
Perhaps,
Hold my job down,
Don't always know how,
Sometimes work's my holy cow,
Provides, milk ,meat and honey,
Time and time again,
Hormonally,
If only,
Good God, I wish I could be free, not really blasphemy!
From mediocre life's constraints,
****** brighter picture paints,
Lost in a fog, panic mode, abused,
All too stupid to lose independence, it seems,
Stuck mid ladder, can't hit up,
Can't go down, frozen in space,
Inspiration fading fast,
Sat in land where cloud cuckoo's sing,
Music feeds my head released,
Corrs, sing love some more,
Well maybe some less!
Chilling on a sorry , sunny Sunday morn,
Can only be the best!
Livvi Kent 28/04/2013
Aug 26, 2013
Aug 26, 2013 at 5:53 AM UTC
We live in times of innovation.
Winds of change affront the nation;
wind most welcome – by a few
(the masses know not what to do
with engineered progressive change,
their morals slow to rearrange).
And thus, in ornithology
we find an apt analogy…
Phoenix-like the vulture rose
in rainbow raiment, from repose
Its plumage all askew – a freak:
a mutant with a painted beak
borne of winds but lately blown.
This strange new hybrid (yet unflown)
did twitter forth an avian boon.
It preened its plumes and croaked a tune:
“I represent that rarest fowl,
far wiser than outmoded owl…
A dazzling swan of change am I
brought forth to liberate the sky!”
(Yet more appeared a fractured emu;
fair is fowl post-op… they tried to
cross said emu with an ostrich!
(What the hell – the surgeon got rich
changing apples into – mangos;
altering the twos to tangos…)
Fresh from gender suicide
he moulted into she. Beside
herself (itself?) with grief, regarded
previous selves as false: discarded
Sir for Madam overnight;
fixed it, mixed it, made it right.
Since God was wrong the first time ‘round,
Man (or something) thus is bound
hormonally to tweak and mutate,
hastening rebirth’s freakish due-date.
A manly bass – and yet the face
was poorly paired in his/her case
Soprano ought to have resounded –
yet the voice left one confounded.
Rainbow bracelets notwithstanding
this was clearly modern branding
(on the forehead – like a beast?)
well, Jesus said the truth at least:
that angels are of neither gender
(hence no need to check the member.)
Lest we offend endangered species
I commend transgendered theses –
paired with warning and a fable
as they turn the feathered table:
We may nurture fair to foul
while nature shrieks a hideous howl
but foul to fair cannot return;
thus trapped, both Eve and Adam burn.
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 9:12 PM UTC
Life as a high school wallflower served me
without any budding female friendships
until lo…
a gent tulle mandate from my late mother uprooted me
from mine kempf familiar bedrock level road terrain
which venue offered a groundswell
to blossom forth into golden sterling resplendent rod
of natural equipoise (this an unbiased opinion) and balance
with freestyle improvisational swinging motions
unchained from the moors of formality
and lit figurative saint elmo’s sesame street fiery dance
allowing, enabling and providing this shy awkward self
during his young adulthood
to cast away four ever
thy self embroidered handsome
straight as an arrow
naturally high as a kite young guy
buzzing like a yellow jacket
thus liberating spontaneity that je nais sais quoi joie vivre
clamoring headlong toward venus
from healthy pistil packing overflowing bin
laden well nigh testosterone erupting *****
toward opposite gender
whereby bravado donned as key
to *** field of whet dreams
fostering initial albeit late blooming
roll in the hay hormonally rooted rutting squeal!
Feb 1, 2018
Feb 1, 2018 at 2:15 AM UTC
He seems obvious to the note passing,
To the eyes spying and the paper ***** flying.
He sits at his desk with a meek expression upon his face,
Not quite staring into space, but a place.
I can tell by this clean features and his put-together attire,
That he acquires to be in a position higher with such desire.
That he's dreaming of a place that doesn't require baby-sitting hormonally deranged teenagers,
It's a place where maybe he's a manager or somewhere fighting potential danger,
The bell rings above his head which shakes him back to the present time,
He adjusts his jacket and looks around like he committed a crime, then he smiles goodbye to his students like they were piles of grime.
I creep up to his desk and tell him,
It's not that grim, remember, the glass is full to the brim.
Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 6:26 PM UTC
Whispers from wine-coloured moonlight have now
blighted old river grass.
No-one will pass by this flood's blistering chorus of
frustrated past outcry.
The waters stay silted with years-long, war-seared
bitterness as each ill-timed
Peace talk crumbled to finish killed by conclusions
of coated top-brass.
Dreams of the tortoise-shelled butterfly days faded
long before turbulent rapids
Drew young men and women toward battles over
naught but misapplied fears.
Lifetimes float hormonally by in riverside history of
pride's facade of need for action
Forces, press-mustered are taught blind allegiance
to naught but mindless leads.
Listening I hear victims' bubbling exits still weeping
regrets for conceding to hate.
Wisps of blood-to-come days surface from tainted
mud as no war moulders easily.
What happens when, hit by flows of violence peace
can no longer struggle for gain ?
In reddened undertow of river-mud woes rise from
those caught up in sightless obedience.
May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 8:20 AM UTC
Whispers from wine-coloured moonlight have now
blighted old river grass.
No-one will pass by this flood's blistering chorus of
frustrated past outcry.
The waters stay silted with years-long, war-seared
bitterness as each ill-timed
Peace talk crumbled to finish killed by conclusions
of coated top-brass.
Dreams of the tortoise-shelled butterfly days faded
long before turbulent rapids
Drew young men and women toward battles over
naught but misapplied fears.
Lifetimes float hormonally by in river-side history
as pride's facade of need for action.
Forces of folk press-mustered, taught naught but
allegiance to mindless leads.
Listening I hear victims' pathetic exits still weeping
regrets for conceding to hate.
Wisps of blood-to-come days surface from tainted
mould as no war sits easily.
What happens when, hit by flows of violence peace
can no longer struggle for gain ?
Reddened under-tow of sacrifice rises from victims
caught in sightless obedience.
Oct 11, 2019
Oct 11, 2019 at 7:35 AM UTC
Unfaithful marital transgressions
self admitted indictment,
crime and punishment,
no longer think high lee
entailing no mister re: demeanors,
I searingly weathered
(George by bushed, albeit thankfully,
no unwanted child left behind),
nonetheless one unforgettable
indelible, execrable, and abominable
professedly owned his
civil warring battle of life
transgressions undeservedly heaped
(Uriah hit about that)
(carnal feral hormonally seething
gone astray nightwalks)
woven by basket of deplorable
emotionally painful selfish object lesson
forever etched upon mine psyche
(left by one bobbing sponge -
cheeses crust station of his life
within sea of human life now
affixes moniker re: mister *****
inflicted courtesy yours truly
said marital indiscretion (philandering)
one among many issues discussed,
during treatment plan earlier today
February eighteenth 2020
concerning complex edifice
regarding mein kampf
existential bleak house
(figuratively crowded cheek to jowl)
with and hard times
fraught with many
unattained great expectations
unwittingly accepts psychological fallout
(among kissing kith and kin,
a shellfish chicken and hen thing for sure),
despite years elapsed ex post facto
deploying, incorporating, narrating, signifying...
narcissistic, opportunistic, and phlegmatic
self incriminating doom
visualize deus ex machina
betrayal rendered adopted smugness
invariably set in motion domino effect,
whereby emotional alienation
devastation, humiliation, maturation, suppuration
(yoking impossible mission
to shuck off penitence, the price to pay),
thus rightfully, truthfully, and veritably...
ably, readily, and willingly
allowing, enabling, and providing
incomplete resolution, (hence iresolution)
thwarting rancor thy deux daughters
(livingsocial many time zones distant)
embark quest to guide their own
metaphorical maiden voyaging ships of state
countless transpired hours
at counseling facility, where poetic papa
aired and mulled over bothersome
anguish to complete requisite treatment plan
to receive psychiatric appointment
next (and last) Tuesday of February 2020.
Feb 18, 2020
Feb 18, 2020 at 10:43 PM UTC