"irrepressibly" poems
You are witnessing a prodigious talent and promise, and to a lesser extent but still to the degree whereby it should keep you awake at night writhing in cold sweats, your life, slip agonisingly through your open and clammy palms. Promise means so little if not actualised. You have been granted chance after warning after fortuitous escape yet have blithely spurned every omen and will one day fall, swiftly and perhaps terminally. You are almost certainly depressed. You say you love your girlfriend, and you mean it wholeheartedly when you do, but you worry that the relationship perpetuates as without her there would be no reason to rise with the sun. Even if the relationship is unstable, and at times verging on the unhealthy, you believe you love her but are too great a coward to consider decisive action if that belief is to reside or subside. Your friends range from kind and honest yet deeply flawed to somehow toeing an inextricably thin line between dependability and duplicitousness. Conversations with a certain few of your friends necessitate decrying every undercooked ethos you've every conned yourself into believing you hold (you could well be the most hypocritical liberal to walk the earth, for you are innately and irrepressibly selfish) yet you still nod placidly as your conscience squirms. Grotesquely, like a beaten spouse, you crave the gaze of those who have treated you with the most insulting derision, but are too proud (of what?) and, a running theme, too cowardly, to stoop to a simple detante. You must change, for it pains you on a most base level to have to accept the feeble, whimpering, simpering spectre you have become. You must be bold, brave, unashamed in your convictions, anything but pursed and silent lips. You have a voice, and you must now speak loud enough for them to hear, for that which has become blunted must be whetted, sharpened, readied for battle to be unsheathed at an utterance. Heed the signs and change, for our sake. You, a milksop who attentively notes the sophistry of courage, you can still be brave, and you must be.
For one day you will be swelled with a courage and fortitude to fill your sails taut, enough to leave this place, forget these people and bear you away.
Sep 7, 2012
Sep 7, 2012 at 8:08 PM UTC
Poetry is for those who know that emotion
Is encrypted within the words spoken
Poetry is for the curious, and the mysterious
Although most Poets are true, they’re irrepressibly mischievous
So open your mind before you open eyes
For this art often wears a bashful disguise
*Ink is ***** mixed with scarlet love
Words are jagged, and poetry is blood*
Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 10:35 PM UTC
Heavy grey sky
Irrepressibly looming,
Descending, a sheen.
Cleansing the houses,
The streets.
And I,
Another wan figure
An aspiring dove,
So crushed,
Now only a poor pigeon.
Another watcher
With no part to play,
But to release my breath,
Pearlescent clouds
Ascending to the grey.
Aug 2, 2013
Aug 2, 2013 at 5:20 PM UTC
Sunshine sprouts
sky dreams
irrepressibly carefree...
floated flutterbys
whippoorwills sang
on equitable vistas evergreen
and...I believed!
I had seen!
Jul 11, 2014
Jul 11, 2014 at 5:56 PM UTC
When bit by proboscis of bullying ********
When flayed by management’s moneyed constraints,
When cowed by political pressure’s publicity
….Irrepressible positives will cut the restraints.
For regardless of age or the state of the body,
Regardless of worriment carried in lieu,
Your irrepressible “up” shall rise to the surface
To wipe negativity’s blemish from you.
Irrepressibly, positively beaming in sunshine
Gleaming blue eyes in the sweet morning air,
Sprinting ahead of the crassness negated
We won the moment with wind in our hair.
Marshalg
In beating the odds
AUCKLAND
6 February 2014
Feb 5, 2014
Feb 5, 2014 at 3:43 PM UTC
A small ring of tea
Pools beneath the delicate china,
While the spoon clinks against
The walls of the glass
As the tea is stirred.
The sugar crystals shimmer
As they dissolve slowly into the
Spinning steaming froth.
The spoon continues to stir
Even though the crystals have
Long since disappeared.
And the figure stares
Absently into the swirling
Swirling drink.
As his life spins
Uncontrollably
And irrepressibly.
Jun 30, 2012
Jun 30, 2012 at 9:33 PM UTC
Like a river I flow irrepressibly
but backwards
just to keep you near.
Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 4:04 PM UTC
i know you
your eyes tell your secrets to me
& when your eloquent lips
touch mine
they speak
in a language
that only i can understand
you have a strength that overwhelms
inner beauty that mystifies
& a peace that fills my soul
you are bronze, beautiful
& irrepressibly mine
but when you are weary,
i will give you rest
quench your thirst for compassion
& dry your tears with my kisses
for this woman knows
the remedy to your troubled heart
& dispirited soul
black man,
i understand your pain
& this is what i have to offer
so come,
when troubles are heavy laden
come
lay your head upon my *****
& i will be your strength
when you are weak
Dec 24, 2014
Dec 24, 2014 at 10:01 PM UTC
I wander through the world
a smile on my lips
around me the aura
of the irrepressibly young
my steps are light
although the shadows pool under branches
my path is washed wonderfully
with the warmth of the sun
An older man approaches
he spies me and with shaking voice decries
"Where would you go, young man
with a step that be so sprightly
thy countenance that shines so
Do you not see the shadows that gather?
life is serious, young sir
and to to be squandered so carelessly"
He grumbles and mutters
the well worn tracks in his mind
carrying old thoughts
"Ah, youth is wasted on the young"
I reply to him, as i must
this upright providence of a youth well spent
"Oh come now Grandfather
why should one look at the shadows
when we can look at the light?
did you not step so lightly once
smile at the world with boldness
have you not seen both
the darkness and the light in life?
Why then, do you choose
to see the shadows of the world?
It may be true what you say
youth may well indeed be wasted on the young
though you seemingly must agree
experience is wasted on the old"
The old man cannot deny my words
this paragon of age
he fades back into the shadows of my mind
and i
i continue on my merry way to self destruction.
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 9:30 AM UTC
It is a beautiful thing that I was born irresponsibly, irrepressibly, psychotic.
Oceans and ponds are just water.
One mile or a thousand can be walked.
It is beautiful that I wake up every morning as crazy and inconsolable as the one I was born on.
I have never thought she was too far.
Or beautiful, or successful for me.
I am a fool but I won.
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 2:32 PM UTC
Engravings of trampled sands
Irrepressibly brutally invidious
When motioned irresistibly
Through crystal delusioned prism
Array of brandishing invocationing
Spectrum gleaming grapple
Cure, perseverance, persistence,
Pledge, pros, plums
The lazarus ray shone legacy..
Jun 20, 2018
Jun 20, 2018 at 4:46 AM UTC