"injudicious" poems
His love was like the wind,
Strong and courageous,
But with the power to destroy.
My heart a willing victim,
To fall in love with the gusts of love,
How one day he'd be a drizzle,
The next; a tornado,
Ripping through my defence,
Powering through my walls,
Past my endless promises,
To never fall at all.
And me, being weak,
Like a wave that never makes the shore,
Let him take away the innocence,
His heart was yearning for.
And as that wind slowly tore me apart,
I remained that injudicious wave,
Too weak to repair my barriers,
Too broken to be saved.
Jan 31, 2015
Jan 31, 2015 at 7:27 AM UTC
The clues have been…let's say,
Preponderant. We've seen
That Trump's reputation
Is far from squeaky clean.
Now he sounds indignant:
"How dare they imply
That I worked with Russia!
Do THEY think I'm a spy?"
Is there evidence
That Trump and certain staff,
Knowingly or not,
Worked on Russia's behalf?
Knowing or not knowing…
Yes, even the latter
Definitely is
A counterintelligence matter.
The FBI will discover
Whether suspicions are true
While Trump sends out a tweetstorm.
Of course, what else is new?
Is he an asset to Russia
At our country's expense?
The accusation really
Makes a lot of sense.
His words and actions are
Often injudicious,
Which makes him sound so utterly
And blatantly suspicious.
Mueller certainly knows
A lot more than we think.
He will put together
The pieces, link by link.
Team Trump will spread
Deep state myths to steer
Us off the path to truth.
They smear whom they can smear.
They will try to hide
The truth without a doubt.
Cooperation with Russia
Is what it’s all about.
Misstating the law,
Giuliani tries
To give Trump his support
By backing the president’s lies.
Trump’s words leave us
With so much to bemoan.
Who knows WHAT goes on
When Putin and he are alone?
He's been parroting Putin's
Talking points. How's that?
Is he a spokesman for
The Russian autocrat?
Undeniably, Trump
Finds himself in a spot,
Which amounts to a case
Of possible kompromat.
Never have we had
A situation so…hairy.
Never have we had
A president so scary.
-by Bob B (1-13-19)
Jan 13, 2019
Jan 13, 2019 at 9:13 AM UTC
I get good grades,
Have "a lot of friends" and "I'm always happy",
Everyone thinks they know everything about me.
Sure, I can be oblivious,
But it doesn't mean I'm injudicious.
I ask a lot of questions just to learn more,
not because I'm an imbecile.
Just because I'm healthy,
it doesn't mean I'm wealthy
You see me smiling?
well it doesn't mean I'm actually happy
because I'm not
Look past the surface
Dare to ask
Don't judge a.....
Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 11:10 PM UTC
These words, straight from my tumultuous soul. Another one with a hagridden, asphyxiating heart. 1---*-2 purblind eyes as injudicious as always. Even though airy for a change turned bovine, storming, screaming, it wants me blind. Gelid weather left behind, duplicating my touch from brisk to biting, killing the lie within your skin that was never on display.
Now...
Meaningless memories smothering the limbic system. Willthis be all that remain? Lets hang it up.
Now...
There's just another withering fire, burning the secrets. Will this be all that remain? Lets stab it deep.
Now...
Like a pernicious disease, dreams of the promised, made me blind. Will this be all that remain? Lets tear them out.
Now...
Like a metastatic infection, the pretense makes my skin numb. Will this be all that remain? Lets cut it open.
Now I'm calling 26280 and still you put me straight through to voice mail. I've had enough. I beg of you, please loosen the grip so I can renovate my fragmented life.
Jul 24, 2017
Jul 24, 2017 at 1:35 AM UTC
The day he walked in that door
was the day he was destined to die.
He lay his foot inside the door
and the other one concurrently came out.
He transposed his clothes
but they ceased to cover his body.
The scarlet coat was left hanging
in the closet with his soul.
Indicted with crimes
that he must not have been penalized for.
And bashed by society
with their spiteful words like arrows.
Met his lover
but was parted by the injudicious laws.
Left skint and lacerated
with the epithet of an outcast.
Alien tears fill for him
and outcasts pay their homages.
No statue of air was this man
yet hard labor was all he was given to build it out of stone.
His teacher later delineated him as a blot on their tutorship.
For he was but a tutor.
De Profundis
spoke of his anguished journey.
Victorian times
disagreed with his originality and frolic.
He told
platonic love was all he was guilty of.
Yet,
he was charged with crimes.
Drowned in cries of shame;
and incarcerated to rip him off his passion.
Something was dead in him,
and what was dead was hope.
Hope died first
and then gradually died the passion.
In exile,
his love for writing too deceased.
The daemon inside him
ceased to inspire.
God sent the lord of death
The lord of death
didn’t move around pompously like him.
But came announced,
for it had been accepted.
The wallpaper moaned
upon his untimely death.
For it desired to die
instead of the then mincing man.
He left the earthly plains
for the good have fewer days.
The good die young
as did the revered outcast.
Herodotus the father of history
unerringly expressed the good ones’ misery.
He repudiated to deny his soul
and lived nonchalantly.
He desired all the fruits of the world
so he lived.
Exile ruined him
and rent his ardor.
His meetings with his lover
were interdicted by his family.
He was pardoned
but a century too late.
Along with the outcasts
that lived in throbbing pain.
The outcast deceased when young
but lived indefinitely.
Infinite existence is promised
for the ***** was silver-tongued.
He died young
and roams the immortal planes.
Just like Alan Turing,
Bhagat Singh, JFK, and countless more.
God wanted them
for they wanted to augment their heavens.
Nov 3, 2020
Nov 3, 2020 at 11:38 AM UTC
(alter knit lee tie tilled -
Field Day For A Nihilist).
Hunger for knowledge vis avis car ear ring
(and car rue ming) cerebrum formulated,
integrated, promulgated personal perception
to the point of no return, and inadvertently
brought to fruition basic, dogmatic, enigmatic,
fatalistic heuristic life lessons. The fabulist,
dualistic capacity averred viz Zoroastrianism
figuratively pitched this contemplative,
furtive, intuitive literate organic, realistic,
universalistic, wanderer yearning instinctive
modalities metamorphosing this quizzically
opportunistic, philosophically naturalistic,
officially matt tea real list tic, and sometime
prophesying prognosticating probing outlier.
As a nonestablishmentarian libertarian, joy
riding heretic, feasting dishabille *** I
contemplated the capacity qua Duality
of human being to co-exist inside the
labyrinth of mental learning. Quite often
reconciliation between the angel of come
passion stood opposite intent (with
minimal effort to foment) malicious
intent toward evil. This constant tug
of war (within depths of psyche) perched
psychological state upon precarious pivot.
Balance between righteousness verses
barb bar rick ken of villainy engendered
warp and woof of noble might undermined
via ignoble, infamous injudicious threnody
thru the countless millennia, when many
an outstanding wizard served as a prime
mover and shaker to boost betterment
of so called civilized state with the bane
of anarchy, disintegration, gallimaufry
always in the vanguard. Manifold milieus,
which witnessed civilization rise and
fall became bereft of equilibrium be
tween forces of growth and decay.
The feature of intransigence (as a
free roaming derelict agent) and
dominant characteristic
of contemporary society.
Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 7:47 PM UTC
Nobody dares in old Beijing—
the reeking air hides thunder.
A silent fang in motion strikes,
All consequence asunder.
Thought leans toward a slanted truth;
contention pays the fee.
For somewhere, someone whispers low—
Blank walls report the plea.
Everything is monitored,
each whisper, breath, or tread.
To thread an injudicious thought
could mean you'll end up dead.
Distance offers no relief—
pull not the dragon’s tail.
For agents ride on silken wings
to read your foreign mail.
And yet, the jasmine still unfurls,
the ink still stains the page.
A rebel hides behind a smile—
a poet, disengaged.
Paper lanterns flicker low,
Silent courtyards sing
Red banners herald portends
That dreaded whispers bring.
Distant looms the Emperor
In the dynasty of jade
Where impulse slays the endgame
Of all the endgames, played.
[email protected]
May 4, 2025
May 4, 2025 at 11:15 PM UTC