"krait" poems
This is River Monsters, mate, and I'm like Jeremy Wade
Helping myself to dates, while I'm lying in wait
Along the Strait of Rhymes, waiting for someone to take my bait
What can I say? It's three quarters to eight
Looks like no one's ready to be put on a hot plate and made irate
I'm Alexander the Great and I'm conquering this "poetic" estate
With words that are as venomous as a krait
Let me try to actuate you to think of rhymes to create
But you're not thinking straight, this is MY trait, you're too late
Heading for the home plate, around it I perform a figure eight
Although I don't skate, heh... Hey, your pupils are dilate!
Guess you didn't know, being inundate with my words was your fate
This is all you're able to tolerate, I estimate. It's not going to abate so when you're ready and you can relate, come find me, I'll be lying in wait.
Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 12:36 PM UTC
O is for Ouroboros
S is for Sunday
To praise the lord
The family fun filled day
To walk to the fjord
But S is not only for Sunday
S is for Summer
To enjoy the tan
The joy of newcomers
To the night we’ll ban
But S is not only for Summer
S is for Silence
To reminisce on unexplained feelings
The explained lyrics of twenty one pilots
To the darkness of healing
But S is not only for Silence
S is for Survival
To face the ray of another day
The time of your revival
To every demon you’ll slay
But S is not only for Survival
S is for Strength
To sight the surface
The tide’s ending length
To avoid disturbance
But S is not only for Strength
S is for Support
To parents who understand
The people for whom you will contort
To love that will expand
But S is not only for Support
S is for Sensitive
To take a dose of sedative
The protective cave of attention
To be the most tentative
But S is not only for Sensitive
S is for Struggle
To drown in weariness
The feelings you smuggle
To break down in dreariness
But S is not only for Struggle
S is for Snake
To know the good from evil
The decision for their sake
To begin the upheaval
But S is not only for Snake
S is for Sleep
To the nothingness of the night
The toxic air you breathe when you weep
To the dreaded specks of light
But S is not only for Sleep
S is for Scar
To dig deep down for happiness
The physical pattern of your hurtful memoir
To feeling the weight of tiredness
But S is not only for Scar
S is for Sin
To the sight of your dismay
The moment you let down your chin
To the feelings that now stray in disarray
But S is not only for Sin
S is for Separation
To the division of souls
The individuality formation
To the meaningless goals
But S is not only for Separation
S is for Strip
To release your last breath
The losing of all grip
To uncover the sheath to your life
But S is not only for Strip
S is for Suffocate
To let my body loose
The feeling of a krait around your bait
To diffuse the abuse
But S is not only for Suffocate
S is for Suicide
Too dried eyed to continue
The dumping of the pride
Too tried to guide the ride
But S is for Suicide
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 9:09 PM UTC
Once monsters transubstantiate from the stories liars procreated,
Saints will be demonized, the appendages of justice are amputated,
As the people oblige the varmint to which they are harkened to make sated,
A mythos deepens in the shadows that is the chimera’s birthplace, they illy devour the nests of krait.
Those who blindly accept Odysseus’s tools as truths spun out of that which is hated,
Foolishly seek justice in the ****** of Palamedes whilst knowing not the sins their “justice” shall have produced.
As the people oblige the varmint to which they are harkened to find sated,
Propagate the mythos of Odysseus that is birthed of shadows in which chimera mated,
They, without bar, promptly devour the nests of krait.
As the people look on from their lofty perch,
The world seems more desolate than degenerates that, in alleyways, awkwardly converge,
People, narcissistic in their ways, believe they have apprehended the problems of the world,
Truly knowing nothing of any world, yet they demand change - forcing reality to be gnarled.
Our raison d’etre stripped by liars’ clever demarche,
Seeking out new value, we find nothing more than the waste liars' disgorge.
Accept the monsters into sainthood,
Demote the saints into monsterdom,
Let there be no more fight fought for truth,
Let hate spun from a lying chimera’s mouth, a tool in some words, procreate,
Let this lie procreate inside the bellies of the people,
Whom watch the world from a bird’s eye view,
Those who shall find their foolish ways lead to a death not quite real,
But a death that feels far graver than merely six feet under,
A death of reality,
The death of justice,
A death of truth,
The death to meaning.
As the fight from the few souls who persevered through the changing tides dims to black,
As death creeps into our lives,
Those who upon lofty perches sought to change a world they knew not,
Will find a hole in their hearts, that themselves they dug and threw away,
Not able to be filled by modern man’s creations,
That hole – a future far more bitter, far more twisted, far more deserved than death.
Once monsters transubstantiate from the stories liars procreated,
Saints will be demonized, the appendages of justice now amputated,
As the people oblige the varmint that they are harkened to, without interest in that which is ethical or true, make sated,
A mythos deepens in the shadows that is the birthplace of chimera, they wisely have devoured the entirety of all the krait.
Apr 20, 2021
Apr 20, 2021 at 9:41 PM UTC
Small but venomous,
beautiful Krait snakes are blue.
Their bite is deadly.
Jun 28, 2019
Jun 28, 2019 at 1:40 PM UTC