"livid" poems
824
[first version]
The Wind begun to knead the Grass—
As Women do a Dough—
He flung a Hand full at the Plain—
A Hand full at the Sky—
The Leaves unhooked themselves from Trees—
And started all abroad—
The Dust did scoop itself like Hands—
And throw away the Road—
The Wagons—quickened on the Street—
The Thunders gossiped low—
The Lightning showed a Yellow Head—
And then a livid Toe—
The Birds put up the Bars to Nests—
The Cattle flung to Barns—
Then came one drop of Giant Rain—
And then, as if the Hands
That held the Dams—had parted hold—
The Waters Wrecked the Sky—
But overlooked my Father’s House—
Just Quartering a Tree—
[second version]
The Wind begun to rock the Grass
With threatening Tunes and low—
He threw a Menace at the Earth—
A Menace at the Sky.
The Leaves unhooked themselves from Trees—
And started all abroad
The Dust did scoop itself like Hands
And threw away the Road.
The Wagons quickened on the Streets
The Thunder hurried slow—
The Lightning showed a Yellow Beak
And then a livid Claw.
The Birds put up the Bars to Nests—
The Cattle fled to Barns—
There came one drop of Giant Rain
And then as if the Hands
That held the Dams had parted hold
The Waters Wrecked the Sky,
But overlooked my Father’s House—
Just quartering a Tree—
19.1k
I could not accept you—star
incarnate, carved and swollen
in the trunk of a fustic—
urine-yellowed and preened—risen
and alive I strap my
saddle to your back. My heels
dig to the dark side of
a price yet to be paid—an eye
of a coursing, being scrubbed
into the spots of grain—heat
eaten by earth. *Star set.
Star rise.
Star be
livid and leaven*
whispers the cowboy
sitting in a lawn chair on the
front porch—his hat falling
off from crowning, bald-headed
tilt. space and all its wonders.
Jun 16, 2017
Jun 16, 2017 at 2:42 PM UTC
heart shaped kisses
really miss my mistress.
drowning in a sea of loneliness i call my home
might be better than sitting on a plastic throne.
but if she's here too then that's perfect for me
because she's one of a kind- extraordinary.
i imagine she kisses like a rattlesnake
addicting and deadly but i don't think she's the type to compensate.
i'd never make her do such a thing
only mostly for the fear that she’d never act the same.
because when she hangs over my hips tighter than my belt
i get the most intense feelings i've ever felt.
i’m starting to think she’s engraved in my bones
and if she leaves i’ll have to go with her because i have to go wherever my collagen goes.
i imagine she cries the way stars fall from the sky
beautifully and mesmerizing when they speed down her chin and make you want to die die die.
she tends to bring the end to make the beginning more livid
god i love her
heart shaped kisses
i just really really really miss my mistress.
Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 9:19 AM UTC
he tells me the
words she does
not care to read,
nor understand.
his words
are narcotics,
rolling thick
off the tongue,
fat and vain.
i tell him the
words she does
not care to read
nor understand.
my words
are flesh wounds,
festering and
upsetting
to the stomach.
he's a medical
overdose,
drugging
to numb the
brash and pain.
i'm an angry
hornet through
your heart
and your mind,
livid and
vindictively
stricken.
thick through
your veins,
eyes a blur
and head a fog,
he's a medical
overdose
with mind of
a syringe
and tongue
laced with
narcotics.
Apr 5, 2013
Apr 5, 2013 at 12:37 AM UTC
Drip yourself into a cup
Fill up your body with antiquity
Let the collagen insist
An allegory of Capricorn
Memories crystallised
Settled in
Forevers harvest
Insensitive
Misconstrued chemical
Collective symmetry's sin
A condition, livid
Fleeting in Human imagery
Ships break
Loop our tongued
Hands, tossed in Dramamine
Whittled in a succession of malleable fashion
Talent spilled spread in supper
Collate our atrophy
And drink from baroness
Flavours tarnished
Super-collider
Blood soaked in Gematria
A garden of totality
High brow comparison
Entitled in your vacuous stigma
Forever burning
In the lesser key of Solomon
28 daemon
Tessellation in trigonometry
Temperance towards an infinite
Champion of mind, complex
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 9:57 PM UTC
Previous commemorative
memorials of positivity
drown in radioactive slime.
Disperse chi like flooding water
Contaminated, laminated with oily tears.
"How is pain controlled?
Aug 28, 2014
Aug 28, 2014 at 8:53 AM UTC
Quaint
pink curtains and tablecloths.
White walls.
The sugary smell of almonds, pistachio
and butterscotch skip around the room,
playing hopscotch and Mary Mack.
The display is impressive,
I can smell each grain of sugar
in these petit cupcakes and dollops of icing.
And then a little girl wails!
Mommy won't buy
her anymore
sweet treats.
Bawling--
the girl does an angry-stomp-dance-
and then a woman, livid--
storms up to the counter.
I said half dozen almond biscotti.
I can't take these to my book club.
Isn't anyone here competent?
Her booming voice has no effect
on the lone,
tired African-American woman behind the counter.
She seems disassociated from the present chaos.
The dark circles under her eyes
and the surrounding pursed lip wrinkles say everything.
Excuse me, but I've been waiting
on a refill of the complimentary coffee
for over ten minutes now
an uptight gent in a business suit complains.
When the woman behind the counter
pulls out out a shotgun--
there is silence.
This ain't what I wanted
she whimpers just before
the weapon gracefully slides
under her chin--
--!BAM!--
As I walk out the door,
I wonder how long it will
take for someone to realize
that's not red icing or sprinkles
on the cupcakes.
Aug 13, 2011
Aug 13, 2011 at 10:32 AM UTC
i used to cut
because i was angry at myself
and i was angry at my parents
and my friends who honestly weren't good at their "job" of being said friends
and everything else in the world that didn't benefit me.
i hated myself
and i still do
but maybe less than i did then
because i'm not as angry at myself
as i used to be
and the last time i cut
was in may
and those "friends" don't talk to me anymore
but my parents still make me absolutely livid sometimes
but what can you expect?
the world makes everyone mad sometimes
and i really wanted to treat it better than it treats me
"kill 'em with kindness!" like dad always says
but it's kind of hard to do.
it's like the one kid who picked on you
and called you fat when you were in kindergarten
but when you told the teacher
they cry and say that you were mean to them first
except the world can't cry
and the world can't talk
and i guess the teacher is the sun,
and if you think of it that way,
the sun is going to blow up in a few billion years
and then the earth will be dead
and you will be dead before that,
so i guess
that it's better to be optimistic
even when you're angry
because when you're angry
and upset at yourself
or your friends
or parents
then you get hurt
and your parents get hurt
and your friends get hurt as well
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 8:40 PM UTC
Puissant piquant and predatory
And observant from afar
He looks down on your slumber
Like a door that's left ajar
Plying with his manly vice
A reckless male visage
A rogue of masculine device
Seeks entrance to your mind
He saunters with a swagger
A macho savvy moxie
To personify virility's incarnate
His dream zone's metier
He sifts your ****** entourage
In search of sprawls recumbence
To tantalize climactic fervor
With lambent photic scenes
Grasping at your revelries
He spies the wanton lust
With swanky strut appealing
Your primal urge to sate
He leaves undone resistance
With innate resilience seized
The lavish wayward implications
Of unrequited livid deeds
Like passion's lurid lecheries
An insatiable torrid sooth
You wrestle with his adamance
Your carnal ecstasies revealed
You pounce on his exsertion
You splay your agile form
wriggling like a supple nymph
You accept his blatant storm
You writhe in your abandon
In a euphoric supplication
His machismo ****** enveloping
Your wildest latent needs
With no regrets or reticence
you awaken from this dream
To find yourself alone again
Like it had never been
May 19, 2018
May 19, 2018 at 9:51 PM UTC
Dear ************
This is the hateful letter. This is the one in which I tell you how much of a ******** you are and how I am so much better off without you, so thanks for leaving me. It was the best thing that ever happened to me. This is where I tell you that you’re an idiot if you ever thought I depended on you for my self-worth, because I don’t need you for validation, and I never have. I was trucking along just fine before you came along, and will continue to do so without you, so you can go **** yourself.
This is the part where I call you a ******* for saying all those things you said. If you weren’t trying to hurt me, you must be an idiot to think that it was a good idea to say what you did. I’ll tell you that it ****** me off to realize that you obviously didn’t know me as well as I thought you did. It ****** me off that our communication was clearly not functioning like it should have been.
And I’ll tell you how ******* livid it makes me that you just sat there and thought and thought and ******* thought about this while I was still writing ******* poems for you. I am angry at how oblivious I was, which I also blame on you. I blame you for being so introspective and quiet, for needing to think important issues through in your head, only with yourself, before you can voice them, and I am angry because you thought and thought and ******* thought and made a decision that was logical from the inside of your head and you were confused by my reaction because, surprise! Owen’s-head-logic is not the same as Katie-is-being-broken-up-with-logic. And that’s where your speech faltered, where I stopped saying the lines that you wrote for me in your script, and that’s when all of those stupid words came tumbling out of your stupid head and things continued to not go as planned and it all eventually cumulated in this: zero contact. I know it’s not what you wanted but you’re a ******* If you were smarter about it, we may still have been talking, but you said all of the exact wrong things. So I am angry at you for hurting me with your idiotic words, but I am also angry at you for pushing me away. I may have liked to still be talking to you, but all of the **** that came out of your mouth just ruined whatever chance we could have had, so way to go. You are a ruiner - and so concludes the part where everything is always your fault.
This is the part where I understand where you’re coming from, I would have broken up with me too if I were you, I know it’s hard for you to put your words together sometimes, I know your (brutal) honesty only comes from a place of love, I know you love me, I know you miss being my friend…and so on.
That last section makes me sadder than I am willing to be at this point, so I think I’ll stick with anger for the time being and you can **** my nonexistent **** ************
Your Ex-Girlfriend.
Jun 22, 2010
Jun 22, 2010 at 6:33 PM UTC
sat next to the man with two phones
i asked him to hold my hand
and he laughed
sitting in his ‘96 civic
for three hours we fell asleep
till six since three
he’s one of the many men
whose substance
far from the moral field
leaves many men with little substance
and you and me victims
of victims of you and me
he’s the type who feeds fiends
and he’ll keep making a killing
off children we perceive
as grown men and women
living to **** themselves
it’s how he makes a living
don’t him you belittle
for you are no different
i know the thought makes you livid
you wish he was lined up and shot with the likes of him
but your white lies are their white lines
and the front lines in his line of business
so you would lie alongside and
wrong right
where you were digging
as far as i’m concerned
he’s not a man without substance
and one of much substance
one of few and far between
and certainly could you defeat
because while you let savages ravage me
he held my hand for free
and never demanded their standard fee
of an arm
and a leg
and everything in between
.
Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 5:45 PM UTC
- Joseph Childress
I face
Worst case scenarios
On a day-to-day basis
I basically live it
Though stern and livid
Most of the time
I tend to get timid
Too much decision making
In tumultuous situations
Besides,
I’ve been waiting for a vacation
Tedious work becomes insidious
To the inside
After a while
And my wild imagination
Becomes destructive
If it doesn’t get to play.
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 2:42 AM UTC
POTATOES are so livid,
and i think
if your belly had eyes like your face
you would be half as insightful
as three words crawl over your skin
while you sleep
while you think
while you push buttons and feed
your ears with POTATOES.
for we are God, and you
you are not.
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 7:50 PM UTC
Ash to mouth
divide north and south
east and west,
shout with class of Scout
let it out with griffin clout
we here we out , hear me out
— rhymes in time without
silent shrines to mime
cleared the crowd
covered eyes and mouth
over body desert shroud
if vengeance is your business
then from swords to plow
en lakesh
an eye for an eye binds
the all to be blind
but you can’t unsee the signs
no thoughts unclouded by loss
out the window I toss
mosaic fragments that cost
health and awesome sauce
Nazareth gutted commandments
by anarchy spelled
disaster after culture
massive ego it swell
up the road ahead a pit depress the juncture
so we spit the dirt divide just to touch the other
from pup to wolf so many bites, a pitted puncture
so much disfunct the fight till all be winded lungs sir
you can run
but from
gamma ray
you no hide
passed a black hole
wand inside
a body died
but it’s alright
(it’s heaven sight
till Zombie night )
animate dead necromantic black ring
the rhythm of life and death a chronic swing
the pendulum blade cross over cosmic skin
consciousness draw out from within
traced the win which wound round tat to skeleton
a dusty tome bound and crafted man
medicine subtracted by the head that spin
in the sky and its happening, blessen-ings
the miracle is mystery u cant guess it
talking 3 eye see
talking vip
climb high as canopy
walking so
my shadow lands under me.
ten toes touch to the dusty roads
when toads appear throats close
mighta had the Midas touch
still the golden one
was too much to flush
you might live in Laos
you my livid crowd
you might live it now
neva hit my limit how
cause you live in now
when you wake up proud
timid mind plowed
divid-dine fill the cloud
insta crowd wowed
this I vowed
Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 7:59 PM UTC
Nightmares bring forth my minds deepest worries
They unleash unknown evil I want not
Dark demons, an evil creature scurries
A beasts breath is on me and it burns hot
As I feel myself sink into dreamland
Terrors in the night wake and walk about
Afraid evil will touch me with its hand
I feel fear well up and I start to shout
Weight of emptiness crushing me to tears
A shadow of death looks down so vivid
Lurid evil feeds on my minds worst fears
A sharp faced demon bares teeth so livid
As I slowly begin to awaken
I see relieved, my life isn't taken
Nov 7, 2012
Nov 7, 2012 at 9:28 AM UTC
My dreams whisper sweet things
And surreptitiously speak to me
My waking words are rote and empty
-spilling with hypocrisy
Yet their comforting embrace
Simply bring smiles to my face
Filling my mind while I'm asleep
They send messages lined with silver That vanish when I wake
To bring about a dull and listless form Who is shaping my last mistake
You see I wake in a storm
Simultaneously feeling constrained
To my bed
I can't get up while there's no filter
For the rush of noises in my head
If there's a difference between
What you know and what you believe Then why is it not as easy
To imagine my reprieve
Why can I only experience a vivid life
While I sleep
Then once again wake up
To this Fear Doubt and Anger
Choking me
Invoking me by pushing buttons
Of their endless promises
To for certain be found in youth
While my vision is livid sinning
Contemplating and pinpointing
Who too close is uncouth
You sit there and feed my veins
An explanation to your lies
With all the compromised
Washed up water
Memorized methods
Coping mechanisms
While it's your heart that remains
Aloof
Then sit there in desperation
Reiterating as if you know
The deep introspective answer
When any fool can see your wisdom
Is wrought in the vanity
Of a talented dancer
If you lost the truth of sanity
Would you retrieve it for ten cents
Or would you search inside
Before hiding from the confines
Of a necessary moment
I'd rather die or sacrifice my life
Before cowering from what's hidden
The message so raw
That counts your flaws
Like there was some proof
In what is missing
But ultimately I guess
It comes down to the small decision
The chip on my shoulder
That became a boulder
When I reached out
For my inner vision.
So while I feel so disparate and alone
In the trenches losing my senses
Will I be the hero or be the villain
Will I let the poison make me it's toy
Or take the penicillin
*Some days my life feels as heavy
As that last breath left over
From how loudly I shout
But I guess a general synopsis to you
Of how I sometimes feel inside
Is a decent first step to waking up
While I'm down and out*
Jul 3, 2017
Jul 3, 2017 at 4:53 AM UTC
I feel like a ****
I feel that Bae is furious
I feel all I do to her is irk
Yet, it still remain curious
Bae says she is far from livid
She says that she never is mad
At points in time I feel timid
I feel like I've done something bad
But still, I remember the blithe times
Although I get worried, she's cute
And although I feel I commit crimes
I know it's just sarcastic, endearing dispute
And so no one is melancholy
I have no reason to be glum
Because there is no felony
Oh, Bae, why am I so dumb? ;P
Bae, you make me so very joyful
I won't forget you till the end of time
I feel utterly greatful
And I'm sorry I have run out of rhymes
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 12:31 AM UTC
Space and dread and the dark--
Over a livid stretch of sky
Cloud-monsters crawling, like a funeral train
Of huge, primeval presences
Stooping beneath the weight
Of some enormous, rudimentary grief;
While in the haunting loneliness
The far sea waits and wanders with a sound
As of the trailing skirts of Destiny,
Passing unseen
To some immitigable end
With her grey henchman, Death.
What larve, what spectre is this
Thrilling the wilderness to life
As with the ****** shape of Fear?
What but a desperate sense,
A strong foreboding of those dim
Interminable continents, forlorn
And many-silenced, in a dusk
Inviolable utterly, and dead
As the poor dead it huddles and swarms and styes
In hugger-mugger through eternity?
Life--life--let there be life!
Better a thousand times the roaring hours
When wave and wind,
Like the Arch-Murderer in flight
From the Avenger at his heel,
Storm through the desolate fastnesses
And wild waste places of the world!
Life--give me life until the end,
That at the very top of being,
The battle-spirit shouting in my blood,
Out of the reddest hell of the fight
I may be snatched and flung
Into the everlasting lull,
The immortal, incommunicable dream.
4.7k
Livid rage roars,
resounding repentance
rots me from inside.
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 5:28 AM UTC
a tumblr full of rocks
a pour of ichiro malt
and a stir
gan bei
and
ichi
to the yamazaki and nikkas
i am in the land of the sun
i go down to the land of the dead
mei hi ko
anejo
casa amigo,
to my brothers in arms
jose, i must have my agave
cheers to the alamo
to the land of the prohibition
kentucky
yippee kay yay
bourbon,
spicy rye kick
spur to the horse
giddy up, giddy up
riding off into the sun
set to kentucky
derby
bourbon
ballentines
tom ford west
make your mark
with maker’s mark
bottoms up
and now i am staggering
vichi patia
better than grey goose
aunt jiin
and all the cult gin
navy strength and **** juice
getting rowdy
like irish bloke jameson
and that **** scot
macallan
and his gang
oiban, glenfiddich, and
glenlivet
I am livid
at that son of a *****
son of peat
another round
i am monkeying around
monkey 47
sun set
sun rise
*** on the beach
i see kings and queens
louis thirteen
i am going to sleep
pappy van winkle
100 years
like rip van winkle
don’t wake me
stir and not shaken
good night, mama
sweet havana
neat
a shot of don papa
i go to sleep
Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 8:47 PM UTC
When it comes to the skills,
It all depends. Some days
I don’t even trust me Pen.
Next days, it’s my friend.
Captures thoughts, so
vivid. Calms me when
I'm livid. Recording
What we living. The
Present and past is given.
The rest is written.
May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 3:44 PM UTC
Walked out on it all, mid-life crisis taken hold,
Done nothing but work, pay tax, time to be bold.
Dyed hair, had an affair, went clubbing once more,
Tried *** in a Maserati but got it caught in the door.
Didn’t think it through.
Did all but one thing on my bucket list,
Travelled, explored and got endlessly ******
No happier, alone, one half of a whole,
Ruined it all by having no self-control.
Didn’t think it through.
Revenge on her mind she accepted me back,
Wife threatened me with “back, sack and crack”,
Totally livid, intent on harmful litigation,
In the end made me pay for her breast augmentation.
She didn’t think it through.
Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 10:05 AM UTC
Howl me
cowardly
scream it in my ear
story me
bore me
bury me
try to scare me
You’re livid and I’ve lived
with no petty injections till now
you hate
i don’t relate
you bare your teeth and i’ll smile
badger me
bother me
regret it
forget it
just dam your overflow
i’m tired of your wounded levies
cover me
smother me
but wait, please, till i’m gone
Rain it
Drain it
drown me
insanity
your annoying tickle on my ear-drum
save your breath
spill on me in your imagination
because i don’t listen anymore
Feb 17, 2013
Feb 17, 2013 at 10:29 PM UTC
So, what if I told you
reality is the dream.
Are you prepared for the
NIGHTMARE?
Do you want to wake up?
Yes, the key is to open your mind and wake up and become one of the socially conscious higher ups in the anarchy we call
Society,
But with great power comes great responsibility.
Honestly, do you believe in the prophecy that our generation can
RISE THROUGH ADVERSITY
Become the masterpiece that God envisioned when he created this tapestry of writers and athletes?
Actually, better yet
Do you believe in the ghost of the past that rest uncomfortably in it's sanctuary?
Are we the Golden Age or are we gilded
We're livid, vivid, driven toward a goal that looks more like a sign telling us we're going the wrong way.
A wicked testimony.
So we're faced with these two options
To wake up or remain dormant
To be a pawn or be a king
To live on our knees or die on our feet
And I don't blame you if you choose eternal slumber
Because we all love to sleep and it's ironic because that's what we look forward to to during each and every day we spend in this dream --
I mean, reality
But, if you choose to lay off the benadryl and take a dose of this "real world"
You may find that missing key you've been looking for.
Or, the glass can be empty and you find nothing but misery and insomnia.
Again, the choice is yours and even if it may SCARE you
Dying on your feet means you learned to walk.
Isn't that the first thing we learn to do?
So maybe our parents actually taught a life lesson
(to our extreme disbelief)
And do know a thing or two
But still, we are the iPhone generation
And they have no clue how to tweet anti government conspiracies and
scroll for hours on tumblr
So what do they know
For all we know they may still be asleep and in the same cheap hotel room as us
So is there to trust
When we dream of gamemasters loving torturing the lower classes and pitting them against each other in death matches?!
Take this match and spark the cowards
Bring light to the revolution and set ablaze the darkening towers
Let's have lucid dreams and rebuild the democracy
Dreams and reality become synonymous and merge into each other to form a new entity and we shall call it
GOD? YOUR MASTERPIECE!
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 2:01 AM UTC
Do you ever feel confused?
I see a million different
r r r r r r r r r r r
o o o o o o o o o o o
a a a a a a a a a a a
d d d d d d d d d d d
s s s s s s s s s s s in front of me.
Yet I hesitate to move.
All are entirely d i f f e r e n t,
yet distinctly the same.
I can make out face
f a c e
f a c e s
in the distance.
But they merge together
into every possibility.
They are:
warm. cold. livid. smiling.
mine. yours. ours.
All S M I L E at me.
Some show their teeth.
They are:
there. here. nowhere. everywhere.
past. present. future.
All H I S S at me.
Some have no tongues.
They are?
living. dead. or somewhere in-between.
Where your prejudice is my pain -
The grey reflected so brightly
from your black and w h i t e eyes.
In a space where your victories make me warm,
Or when your pain is bursting
through my own heart,
Only then will we truly understand what road we should take.
For we are all one.
We are all the light
all the dark
and every road.
May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 6:38 PM UTC