"libertines" poems - Hello Poetry

I pretend that your poems and my poems go slumming in disguise; carrying on in dark doorways of riverfront bars— tipsy, telling secrets, spilling out into the sweet-smelling night, libertines more in love than they were before.

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Dec 15, 2010

Dec 15, 2010 at 6:16 PM UTC

marsha-singh

Your poems love my poems

I pretend that your poems and my poems go slumming in disguise; carrying on in dark doorways of riverfront bars— tipsy, telling secrets, spilling out into the sweet-smelling night, libertines more in love than they were before.

11

Headland and Flounders drift alongside the edge and what is excluded bitter vetch, its famine vouch. Life was then hewed on a cusps of Moon, their points return as Libertines and Rakes. Born from the same ideal with choice to inform and saddle the consequences.

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Nov 26, 2012

Nov 26, 2012 at 3:07 PM UTC

topaz-oreilly

Rakes and Libertines over Moon stalk

Headland and Flounders drift alongside the edge and what is excluded bitter vetch, its famine vouch. Life was then hewed on a cusps of Moon, their points return as Libertines and Rakes. Born from the same ideal with choice to inform and saddle the consequences.

11

Barricades and Floundering drift alongside the edge and what is specifically excluded? cantankerous vetch, its bitter wiles. Life rough-hewn on a cusps of Moon, whose dust return as Libertines and Rakes Born from the same lumière with moral relativism to confound and saddle such consequences.

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Jan 13, 2013

Jan 13, 2013 at 8:04 AM UTC

topaz-oreilly

Nothing will change

Barricades and Floundering drift alongside the edge and what is specifically excluded? cantankerous vetch, its bitter wiles. Life rough-hewn on a cusps of Moon, whose dust return as Libertines and Rakes Born from the same lumière with moral relativism to confound and saddle such consequences.

12

black top hats and heretical clowns surprise! the circus is back in town ladies and Gentlemen- we've a show tonight so bed the kids and dim the lights hotel ballrooms and cheap champagne silhouettes of Falsehood and the infamous Fame a gallery of harlots and libertines blessed with the curse of controversy suicidal salvations and casualties religion built the bomb that burned the buildings a ballet of East making martyr of West they pulled their own trigger- shot themselves in the chest creaky pulpits and dusty pews a prayer to be one of the Chosen Few but holy water won't cleanse these Sins in time, all shows must come to an end so bed the kids and dim the lights it's time for a panicked revival tonight clasp your hands- bound by rosary beads baptism- your wants, prostitution- your needs.

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Mar 7, 2011

Mar 7, 2011 at 4:26 PM UTC

km-jones

a satire

black top hats and heretical clowns surprise! the circus is back in town ladies and Gentlemen- we've a show tonight so bed the kids and dim the lights hotel ballrooms and cheap champagne silhouettes of Falsehood and the infamous Fame a gallery of harlots and libertines blessed with the curse of controversy suicidal salvations and casualties religion built the bomb that burned the buildings a ballet of East making martyr of West they pulled their own trigger- shot themselves in the chest creaky pulpits and dusty pews a prayer to be one of the Chosen Few but holy water won't cleanse these Sins in time, all shows must come to an end so bed the kids and dim the lights it's time for a panicked revival tonight clasp your hands- bound by rosary beads baptism- your wants, prostitution- your needs.

20

Funny how it is. A bright light, morphing through the clouds The soft touch of droplets, melting into shingles The only time you're really able to look. Wandering along the roads and banding together, they are everywhere at once! a political movement--libertines, belligerent against the rule of continuous airs The princely stream that does not love them Raised into fists, falling to bombard a defenseless floor, the poor baby of collateral In it there is hope for the cloud the ground does not mind being wetted again Halfway around the world the deserts are still empty and warm, where the sands of oceans taste wind On islands the land is a pinprick between a cloudy sea, it is green and bleeding and drinks in the light All the baby birds of earth look up into the raining sky, asking for? And given no answers with godly warmth. I dream to show you this world of mine-- the one all too unreal and divine You are a moment of rain, rapidly becoming Ingrained within the concrete Lost in the forever of this place I am greedy and wanting to leave my mark, I invent hydrocarbons to build smarter oxygen drops they one day become us They always become us I am an early storm, violent and unkempt-- I seek immediate retribution, I ravage the lands With no further to go, I will dissipate Precipitate And give the light space to show.

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Dec 1, 2018

Dec 1, 2018 at 11:50 AM UTC

TimelessWave

The Rain Poem

Funny how it is. A bright light, morphing through the clouds The soft touch of droplets, melting into shingles The only time you're really able to look. Wandering along the roads and banding together, they are everywhere at once! a political movement--libertines, belligerent against the rule of continuous airs The princely stream that does not love them Raised into fists, falling to bombard a defenseless floor, the poor baby of collateral In it there is hope for the cloud the ground does not mind being wetted again Halfway around the world the deserts are still empty and warm, where the sands of oceans taste wind On islands the land is a pinprick between a cloudy sea, it is green and bleeding and drinks in the light All the baby birds of earth look up into the raining sky, asking for? And given no answers with godly warmth. I dream to show you this world of mine-- the one all too unreal and divine You are a moment of rain, rapidly becoming Ingrained within the concrete Lost in the forever of this place I am greedy and wanting to leave my mark, I invent hydrocarbons to build smarter oxygen drops they one day become us They always become us I am an early storm, violent and unkempt-- I seek immediate retribution, I ravage the lands With no further to go, I will dissipate Precipitate And give the light space to show.

25

You and I are revolutionaries Right up to the ruckus we cause daily Switchblade tongues And coal black lungs And bittersweet intentions. We are the voice of a generation We the Degenerates We the Proletariats We the Lost and Found among the wreckage of the millennial metropolis. Living in our forever 21 society Governed by no laws and lack of sobriety We the reckless We the ruthless We the key board warriors Pixels and manic pixie dream girl ******* **** boys, man buns, Jordan's not brogues We the soulless love makers We the relentless heartbreakers We the snapchat sexters, molesters We the grotesque. You and I know no boundaries Lines crossed and used as skipping ropes As ***** jokes, cut throat and savage We the endless trouble makers We who know the end is nigh Hiccuping our ways through orchestrated lies Screaming and bellowing our silent pleas to this world of terror alight Setting fire to ourselves daily We the terrified We the unjustifiable We the hopeful sad We the gods of everything and nothing We the repercussion of double standards 140 characters in every psalm We the unforgiving We the unholy We the non believers We the incomprehensible in the face of sin You and I are not recognised by x or Y We identify in binary with the wind and the stars Honest realisation that our little lives are insignificant to the monologue of the universe Lighthearted libertines light years ahead and behind We the star struck We the scientists and academics We the prophets The artisans The beauty queens The mystics and cynics And I am the voice of a generation you rendered speechless

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Jul 3, 2016

Jul 3, 2016 at 8:44 PM UTC

priya-devi

Millennial Gods

You and I are revolutionaries Right up to the ruckus we cause daily Switchblade tongues And coal black lungs And bittersweet intentions. We are the voice of a generation We the Degenerates We the Proletariats We the Lost and Found among the wreckage of the millennial metropolis. Living in our forever 21 society Governed by no laws and lack of sobriety We the reckless We the ruthless We the key board warriors Pixels and manic pixie dream girl ******* **** boys, man buns, Jordan's not brogues We the soulless love makers We the relentless heartbreakers We the snapchat sexters, molesters We the grotesque. You and I know no boundaries Lines crossed and used as skipping ropes As ***** jokes, cut throat and savage We the endless trouble makers We who know the end is nigh Hiccuping our ways through orchestrated lies Screaming and bellowing our silent pleas to this world of terror alight Setting fire to ourselves daily We the terrified We the unjustifiable We the hopeful sad We the gods of everything and nothing We the repercussion of double standards 140 characters in every psalm We the unforgiving We the unholy We the non believers We the incomprehensible in the face of sin You and I are not recognised by x or Y We identify in binary with the wind and the stars Honest realisation that our little lives are insignificant to the monologue of the universe Lighthearted libertines light years ahead and behind We the star struck We the scientists and academics We the prophets The artisans The beauty queens The mystics and cynics And I am the voice of a generation you rendered speechless

49

and in this...(the insubstantial dawn) visions of poverty scar the sight "hungry animals" (a symbol for "starving men") scared faces scared children see!!! newspapers and tee vees! see!!! (why?--------i don't know) OH LITTLE MARY MURDERED BY THE MEDIA SUCH IS FATE! (the above , in Bold,,,should be repeated ....twice) we are such puny little libertarians or libertines as we (dressed in our tea party costumes and fake piety) pretend that we "MAN" heaven's Gate! .... ..... and with NUCLEAR WEAPONRY! they guard the "Door" CLASS VERSUS CLASS ( the endless war) endlessly stinking STUPID WAR cause the rich man's kid got bored ----------------------------- (from endlessly stinking....unto the end.... this should be repeated until you get it)

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Jul 13, 2010

Jul 13, 2010 at 11:57 AM UTC

jeffrey-robin

stupidly stinking

and in this...(the insubstantial dawn) visions of poverty scar the sight "hungry animals" (a symbol for "starving men") scared faces scared children see!!! newspapers and tee vees! see!!! (why?--------i don't know) OH LITTLE MARY MURDERED BY THE MEDIA SUCH IS FATE! (the above , in Bold,,,should be repeated ....twice) we are such puny little libertarians or libertines as we (dressed in our tea party costumes and fake piety) pretend that we "MAN" heaven's Gate! .... ..... and with NUCLEAR WEAPONRY! they guard the "Door" CLASS VERSUS CLASS ( the endless war) endlessly stinking STUPID WAR cause the rich man's kid got bored ----------------------------- (from endlessly stinking....unto the end.... this should be repeated until you get it)

46

Daughters of Albion, thy beauty and intelligence is bespoke But your spirits are encumbered by cynical agendas, by oppressions' yoke I await the awakening of the revolutionary heroines within Who cast off the stigma and shame of the doctrine of sin Against the rubric that sullies and enervates thy strength I verse and converse at tedious length Inciting thee to free love, to the wayward path of libertines I'd love to see thee dwell freely in beautiful, transcendent scenes Thou art the flux of sultry stunning supernovas Only faintly seen and understood by men Peering like voyeurs down elaborate telescopes Which, for having filtered you, diminishes thy beauty by factor of ten Your divinely wrought stars beget a radiance That offers guidance to the straggling soul I'd love to be enamoured of you in dalliance The bars between us the mind appalls Arise ye makers of rebellion and revolution Commit thy self to the creation of freedom And live in eternal celebration Admitted in to passion's kingdom Together the daughters of Albion shall waltz Out the spirit's cage Going traversing through the wilds again With inspiration for them I rage

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Mar 4, 2017

Mar 4, 2017 at 1:18 AM UTC

megan-sherman-1

Daughters Of Albion

Daughters of Albion, thy beauty and intelligence is bespoke But your spirits are encumbered by cynical agendas, by oppressions' yoke I await the awakening of the revolutionary heroines within Who cast off the stigma and shame of the doctrine of sin Against the rubric that sullies and enervates thy strength I verse and converse at tedious length Inciting thee to free love, to the wayward path of libertines I'd love to see thee dwell freely in beautiful, transcendent scenes Thou art the flux of sultry stunning supernovas Only faintly seen and understood by men Peering like voyeurs down elaborate telescopes Which, for having filtered you, diminishes thy beauty by factor of ten Your divinely wrought stars beget a radiance That offers guidance to the straggling soul I'd love to be enamoured of you in dalliance The bars between us the mind appalls Arise ye makers of rebellion and revolution Commit thy self to the creation of freedom And live in eternal celebration Admitted in to passion's kingdom Together the daughters of Albion shall waltz Out the spirit's cage Going traversing through the wilds again With inspiration for them I rage

24

Lit up cleverly with a romantic light each morning presents itself,so well, as if it's a begining with a winning streak. Innocence, the mood that prevails here, makes it look anything is possible. A witness, he loses in his stream of thought looking at the children playing with the speckled pool of light seeping through the leaves of careless tall trees. Comes noon spitting fire, with his waves of heat the legacy of an angry scorching sun, stuns all the children by now are hiding somewhere. At the sedated hours of sluggish after noon the narration in yellow, takes a different pace. It's the designated time zone for the siesta to happen, the evil hours of libertines too to go gently knocking on the doors of their concubines, safely away from the snooping eyes of wives who have kept awake keeping the brood together fighting against the vagaries of winds that make or flatten sand dunes. Few ones, among them amidst contemplation after furtive, furious ********** take counts over and over again from all ends and see karma's boomerang awaiting, across the bend of time. Repentance and the such are the next,as sun goes down. Evening has a tendency to let go, tendency to say good bye, easily against a hurriedly assembled stage properties of evening sky. It's a caricature of what the day did In her black, hooded cloak night advances,crying aloud: "Don't delay any more, it's time surrender to the army of occupation"

0

Jun 1, 2017

Jun 1, 2017 at 8:11 AM UTC

k-balachandran

day in and day out

Lit up cleverly with a romantic light each morning presents itself,so well, as if it's a begining with a winning streak. Innocence, the mood that prevails here, makes it look anything is possible. A witness, he loses in his stream of thought looking at the children playing with the speckled pool of light seeping through the leaves of careless tall trees. Comes noon spitting fire, with his waves of heat the legacy of an angry scorching sun, stuns all the children by now are hiding somewhere. At the sedated hours of sluggish after noon the narration in yellow, takes a different pace. It's the designated time zone for the siesta to happen, the evil hours of libertines too to go gently knocking on the doors of their concubines, safely away from the snooping eyes of wives who have kept awake keeping the brood together fighting against the vagaries of winds that make or flatten sand dunes. Few ones, among them amidst contemplation after furtive, furious ********** take counts over and over again from all ends and see karma's boomerang awaiting, across the bend of time. Repentance and the such are the next,as sun goes down. Evening has a tendency to let go, tendency to say good bye, easily against a hurriedly assembled stage properties of evening sky. It's a caricature of what the day did In her black, hooded cloak night advances,crying aloud: "Don't delay any more, it's time surrender to the army of occupation"

57

Mankind and unkind. Recklessly, extravagantly consuming, The Profligates of humanity. While totally restrained by convention- no morality. The irony of a welcome mat and white picket fence, Oxymoron for morons- this picture of us, the U.S. in it's totality. Confined and maligned. Assailing with contemptuous language; presuming. Us Libertines of the world. Expecting all to bend or be broken for our liberties. We think they think that we are refined. The world shuns us and our first world state of mind. brutality to lethality, duality to finality, formality to legality, mentality to normality, municipality versus reality, This is the land of the free. Right?

0

Aug 17, 2016

Aug 17, 2016 at 5:47 PM UTC

danii-spinelli-phantomm

Man-Kind?

Mankind and unkind. Recklessly, extravagantly consuming, The Profligates of humanity. While totally restrained by convention- no morality. The irony of a welcome mat and white picket fence, Oxymoron for morons- this picture of us, the U.S. in it's totality. Confined and maligned. Assailing with contemptuous language; presuming. Us Libertines of the world. Expecting all to bend or be broken for our liberties. We think they think that we are refined. The world shuns us and our first world state of mind. brutality to lethality, duality to finality, formality to legality, mentality to normality, municipality versus reality, This is the land of the free. Right?

19