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"malicious" poems
Depression. Oh malicious depression. Always there, never fading away, or going away in this case. Coming at me like she's my first priority. Staying in my life because I guess I like the company, the feeling like there's always a weight on my shoulders, always a reassurance that I'm definitely not going to be in the mood for anything besides sleep and sometimes not even that. Depression is my side chick, not only because I need some difference in my brain, some pizazz to keep things spiced up, or spiced down, but because my brain needs some company while the main chick happiness is away. My side chick goes away sometimes when the main is in town. While happiness is with me I'm always scared because what if depression finds out and comes to win me with pure determination. So I ditch happiness... Depression gets total control over me and I can't seem to find hope of ditching her and finding someone like happiness again. Depression finds the time to insert unwanted thoughts into my brain, talk to me like I'm some slave to it, I guess I am in a way. She's inconsistent in her time with me, I talk to happiness still to fill in the times when depression isn't there, it's not the same with her. Sure we're close and spend time together, but happiness is never really there with me like she was prior to depression. Depression is jealous that I spend time with happiness, but I can't help it. Happiness will always have a place in my brain. Unlike depression happiness has been there since the beginning. Depression came along for the attention a couple years ago and now we're in a relationship that only goes one way. Depression loves me, I definitely do not love depression. I hang on to depression since she's all I have left... Happiness is at the back of my mind constantly wanting to be set free from my thoughts. I just can't let go, Can't let go of the feeling happiness gave me, can't let go of the love she gave and still gives to me as a far off friend. You see happiness found relationships in the people around me, she is constantly prominent in their lives, they never fail to give her attention, treat her like the priority in their lives. I miss happiness, she was great... Now I have the ***** called depression and she's not leaving anytime soon, so I sit with her, attempt to love her and fail miserably at doing so. I try and tell her that I don't want her anymore but she keeps coming at me with kindness and affection. So now I just sit with her and happiness is held in the back of my mind slowly fading away and depression is now my partial past my entire present and most likely to be future.
0
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 5:24 PM UTC
Depression is my side chick.
Depression. Oh malicious depression. Always there, never fading away, or going away in this case. Coming at me like she's my first priority. Staying in my life because I guess I like the company, the feeling like there's always a weight on my shoulders, always a reassurance that I'm definitely not going to be in the mood for anything besides sleep and sometimes not even that. Depression is my side chick, not only because I need some difference in my brain, some pizazz to keep things spiced up, or spiced down, but because my brain needs some company while the main chick happiness is away. My side chick goes away sometimes when the main is in town. While happiness is with me I'm always scared because what if depression finds out and comes to win me with pure determination. So I ditch happiness... Depression gets total control over me and I can't seem to find hope of ditching her and finding someone like happiness again. Depression finds the time to insert unwanted thoughts into my brain, talk to me like I'm some slave to it, I guess I am in a way. She's inconsistent in her time with me, I talk to happiness still to fill in the times when depression isn't there, it's not the same with her. Sure we're close and spend time together, but happiness is never really there with me like she was prior to depression. Depression is jealous that I spend time with happiness, but I can't help it. Happiness will always have a place in my brain. Unlike depression happiness has been there since the beginning. Depression came along for the attention a couple years ago and now we're in a relationship that only goes one way. Depression loves me, I definitely do not love depression. I hang on to depression since she's all I have left... Happiness is at the back of my mind constantly wanting to be set free from my thoughts. I just can't let go, Can't let go of the feeling happiness gave me, can't let go of the love she gave and still gives to me as a far off friend. You see happiness found relationships in the people around me, she is constantly prominent in their lives, they never fail to give her attention, treat her like the priority in their lives. I miss happiness, she was great... Now I have the ***** called depression and she's not leaving anytime soon, so I sit with her, attempt to love her and fail miserably at doing so. I try and tell her that I don't want her anymore but she keeps coming at me with kindness and affection. So now I just sit with her and happiness is held in the back of my mind slowly fading away and depression is now my partial past my entire present and most likely to be future.
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27
The photos were leaked today They were of a **** woman with brown skin Love making as she stared straight into the lenses I was showed by a man who did not know how to react once I had been shown My reaction was not shock I merely stated "That's baad" I did not know how to react to the staunch cyber-bully who was sure he was doing himself a justice by being so open about his anger at the naked, brown, humiliated, naked, shamed, beautiful I am shamed by his shaming I am naked by his ********** I am beautiful by myself sometimes Sometimes I take the tape off my camera and position it near my bloom I am not alone in this activity and yet I feel alone in an intimate situation, feel less alone, in a private situation. Sometimes I work it so that every part of my dark lips are shadowed and my fingers seem to work for a living rather than play My body is not a string It is a temple of dark things It is a ossuary filled with the dust of former lives It is not to be dangled for cats for play It has no puppet hands Or puppet face It smiles because it sees you smile And she frowns when she sees you laugh It is alive The misfortune you hope her body will bring her is shame I hope it will bring other people enlightenment The fault is not in her The fault is in the malicious, villainous, caricature of man who is hallow and made of maddening bells Every time you disturb him he rings in announcement "This lady I had once an intimate relationship and she abused me. Here is her punishment." We are all cavernous tunnels with lights to shoot out of the pins and needles sensational feelings we do not desire this but we must desire to be freed from being owned by this We all think we're exempted from shame until we are ashamed There are no exemptions, only more bells They ring, until background noise renders them obsolete to us
0
Oct 3, 2017
Oct 3, 2017 at 10:43 AM UTC
Beautiful, brown, naked, woman
The photos were leaked today They were of a **** woman with brown skin Love making as she stared straight into the lenses I was showed by a man who did not know how to react once I had been shown My reaction was not shock I merely stated "That's baad" I did not know how to react to the staunch cyber-bully who was sure he was doing himself a justice by being so open about his anger at the naked, brown, humiliated, naked, shamed, beautiful I am shamed by his shaming I am naked by his ********** I am beautiful by myself sometimes Sometimes I take the tape off my camera and position it near my bloom I am not alone in this activity and yet I feel alone in an intimate situation, feel less alone, in a private situation. Sometimes I work it so that every part of my dark lips are shadowed and my fingers seem to work for a living rather than play My body is not a string It is a temple of dark things It is a ossuary filled with the dust of former lives It is not to be dangled for cats for play It has no puppet hands Or puppet face It smiles because it sees you smile And she frowns when she sees you laugh It is alive The misfortune you hope her body will bring her is shame I hope it will bring other people enlightenment The fault is not in her The fault is in the malicious, villainous, caricature of man who is hallow and made of maddening bells Every time you disturb him he rings in announcement "This lady I had once an intimate relationship and she abused me. Here is her punishment." We are all cavernous tunnels with lights to shoot out of the pins and needles sensational feelings we do not desire this but we must desire to be freed from being owned by this We all think we're exempted from shame until we are ashamed There are no exemptions, only more bells They ring, until background noise renders them obsolete to us
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31
Save me. Save me from the place inside of me that Loathes my existence. help, it is pulling me down. Dragging me deeper into to this dark cold place full of everything i hate. like you, and me. i hate You more than anything on the face of this planet, well except for me. i hate me hate me more than a mother hates the murderer of Her own Child. this Calamitous pit inside me like a Rabbit's hole i can Never escape, no matter how i scratch at the sides until my fingers bleed. there is a lot of blood in this place. It's the poison inside of me, the reason why i breathe in short, wispy breaths. It's got to be the answer. i've got to get the poison out. i dig and dig. dig, dig, dig, dig and not once do i cry of pain. i dig and dig. deeper and deeper. the Hot Malicious wine of my pain flows all around me and the world turns grey as my head begins to spin. i hear You. i know how much You hate me. LEAVE ME ALONE GOD ****** the only colour i see now is the deep red of a rose as i clench my hands tighter around the thorns and then Drip. Drip. The sound of my own breath shocks me. i lay at the bottom of the bottomless cistern inside of my soul. the air in my lungs hissing, as i lay there broken. Vulnerable.   in a pool of my own sorrow, thick and dark. You have left me to die. You were the only one i let into this place You pushed me down. You killed me please Someone help before the rasp in my chest completely fades.
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Nov 12, 2012
Nov 12, 2012 at 10:04 PM UTC
The special place inside of me
Evening slipped into the long abyss So fell the red moon Malicious shadows forecasting doom For the cursed animal man Inhabiting the precious earth Fearsome rolling rivers ran dry Black smoke filled the spanning azure skies The churning murky green oceans gave up the bones of their dead When the moon turned red The crust of the hard ground shook Split and burst into deep fiery crevasses Dark yellow orange smoldering nooks Swallowing all of life So obliterated was mans world as we know it Destroyed Barron and dead When the moon turned red This poem is copyrighted and stored in author base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3), Tammy M. Darby Jan.10, 2014
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Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 11:11 PM UTC
When the Moon turned Red
picky teaser lota pizza flamingo burnin' gerhkin wordin' processing pro gramme lots a purple tan tanging tongue tear stupid deer croissant croissant croissant (are you here?) rich and faming silly daydream little cupid castle cooped chicken kickin' malicious software (are we there?) yet cooky suki mikky mopy skiing slopy tear out control shout doubt pout trouble double choc tim tam ginge sortafairy tail of a bat rat smack (should we pack?) and CRACK goes ankle blowing soccer flowin' talk tak no silly silly silly all these years (should I be crying these tears?) hello again a pen? why thanks some lunch punch crunch an ankle swollen ready all flail fall (?)
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May 22, 2013
May 22, 2013 at 3:43 AM UTC
not being sarcastic not
There is a legend about a bird which sings just once in its life. more sweetly than any other creature on the face of the earth, From the moment it leaves the nest it searches for a thorn tree,and it does not rest until it has found one. Then singing, among the savage branches, it pales itself upon the sharpest spine. And dying, it rises above its own agony to outcarol the larkand the nightingale. One superlative song,existence the price. But the whole world stills to listen, and God in His heaven smiles. for the best is only bought at the cost of great pain....Or so says the legend.This resonates deeply within me because being an RHO negativeMother every Gyno MD advised termination of my unborn a malicious prejudice even called me hybrid race! the medical database is WRONG   I SAVED three of my children they were born they live the loves of my life
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Jul 16, 2018
Jul 16, 2018 at 11:39 AM UTC
Lark to Nightingale
You’re a poisoned rose in a wedding band, A glad eye with a stabbing hand, A tumour ,vicious rumour surrounds you, BP Exxon -death abounds you, I first found you amusing and witty, cutting remarks a stick with both ends ****** Gutter scumbag with a glaze of charm, Only interested in doing harm, A sociopath with a crocodile smile, always had the last laugh,- real fight? Run a mile, Backstabber Judas priest,but **** was I deceived, Each Lie you sold I truly believed. I stood by you ,defended you til the bitter end, Bitter irony I know,with you as a friend, Who the **** needs enemies, its all a front, An affront to my instincts,get out of my life you **** chorus "My toxic friend this is the end get out of my life for good, Every time you smile a child dies you’re up to no good, Don’t call me-text me unfriend me before you end me, You’re the epitome of the new word-Frenemy." Now I hear you’re spreading rumours behind my back, Bad move,wrong play better stand back, Your malicious manouevery no longer stands, I’m two steps ahead your end is planned. You better watch your back,you’ve got no back up and no spine, Juggling hedgehog maze lies through a field of land mines, I’ve got my eye on you ex pal,don’t worry your time’s come, we’ll see who can outrun the .45 from a gun, That you’ve been begging for for years no tears at your end, You’re a poxy oxymoron my toxic friend. So come out to play my way and see who draws first, I guarantee you a surprise not my blood burst, Flying in the air like a hose god only knows, You’re a fly in my eye a burr under my skin so out she goes, The left that hits your jaw will saw your head from your neck You talk a good fight,good night,I’ll leave ya wrecked. chorus "My toxic friend this is the end get out of my life for good, Every time you smile an angel loses wings you’re no good, Don’t call me-text me unfriend me before you end me, You’re the epitome of the new word-Frenemy."
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Mar 27, 2016
Mar 27, 2016 at 2:44 PM UTC
My Toxic Friend.
You’re a poisoned rose in a wedding band, A glad eye with a stabbing hand, A tumour ,vicious rumour surrounds you, BP Exxon -death abounds you, I first found you amusing and witty, cutting remarks a stick with both ends ****** Gutter scumbag with a glaze of charm, Only interested in doing harm, A sociopath with a crocodile smile, always had the last laugh,- real fight? Run a mile, Backstabber Judas priest,but **** was I deceived, Each Lie you sold I truly believed. I stood by you ,defended you til the bitter end, Bitter irony I know,with you as a friend, Who the **** needs enemies, its all a front, An affront to my instincts,get out of my life you **** chorus "My toxic friend this is the end get out of my life for good, Every time you smile a child dies you’re up to no good, Don’t call me-text me unfriend me before you end me, You’re the epitome of the new word-Frenemy." Now I hear you’re spreading rumours behind my back, Bad move,wrong play better stand back, Your malicious manouevery no longer stands, I’m two steps ahead your end is planned. You better watch your back,you’ve got no back up and no spine, Juggling hedgehog maze lies through a field of land mines, I’ve got my eye on you ex pal,don’t worry your time’s come, we’ll see who can outrun the .45 from a gun, That you’ve been begging for for years no tears at your end, You’re a poxy oxymoron my toxic friend. So come out to play my way and see who draws first, I guarantee you a surprise not my blood burst, Flying in the air like a hose god only knows, You’re a fly in my eye a burr under my skin so out she goes, The left that hits your jaw will saw your head from your neck You talk a good fight,good night,I’ll leave ya wrecked. chorus "My toxic friend this is the end get out of my life for good, Every time you smile an angel loses wings you’re no good, Don’t call me-text me unfriend me before you end me, You’re the epitome of the new word-Frenemy."
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42
One scarlet tear, makes it clear which drops from her cheek to the ground which burns away as acid, toxic, became lifeless in an instant Emotions of any kind, are to ruin ones mind, ones soul from something more beautiful, clean and without any malicious intent, Ruining what's best in us, corrupting inner peace with disturbance, Free from bonds or feelings one would live alike the the moon; Elusive, with a cycle which turns and decides to recycles once again, But what would be a life, free from the trouble of emotions, heartache pain and agaony, happiness and glee with experiencess worth more than a soul could ask for, wish to be repeated, forming what is YOU, Would it be a curse ? A blessing ? Would it be wise to purify onesself, All these questions remain unanswered, as the world spirals it's transient, lifely joyful axis around our golden shining star, the sun, Purity comes sinfree, cut from temptations of every meaningful term, Then it would mean to give up anything, everything in solace, simply to remain free from an act or even a thought of unrighteousness, Empathy would be lost in a purgatory of pure furies which knows no heart, or mercy for this matter, a life spend alone is an answer to this, Oh servant, will you burn away like the flower in the heat of summer by achieving this purity you strive for just to call yourself better ? After all, the joy of emotions is for all to experience After all the love of light is for all to bear ~ Umi
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Mar 20, 2018
Mar 20, 2018 at 8:46 PM UTC
Refinement of Impurity
In my perfect little world, people greet, they kiss and hug each time they meet . There are no tears nor fears and everyones okay with queers. But in the world today, we just don’t care, and showing love is somewhat rare. When times are fun all friends are near, then things get tough most of them disappear. In my perfect little world, we give and share; we make it a point, to show we care. We live to love, and love to live, and find it easy to forgive. But in the world today we strive on greed, and crave the things we rarely need. We step on others to get our way, so were let alone to pay. In my perfect little world, children smile, and parents go that extra mile. No child is ever harmed or hurt, abused or treated just like dirt. But in the world today most people cry and only pray in case they die. We’ve given in to all that’s bad, and then complain that life is sad In my perfect little world were all the same and life is not a spiteful game. People are loyal, honest and just, and value the gift of friendship and trust. But in the world today it seems, we’ve lost all hope or goals and dreams. Malicious acts are seen as witty, I think it’s sad and such a pity.
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Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 6:27 PM UTC
Utopia
Come in and enjoy the Night-Light Hotel Where Pillows and Perfumes meet and relax And Therapy takes either Bond or Belle And Goldfish blow this Friday's Bubbly Sax Here upon registry your Token awaits The Flannel up-hook which you strip and wear Then wait for your turn as your Number rebates A little whilst knowing your Musk reeks there I for one made this Malicious Decide And tempt my ****** to swallow this Treat: Upper-Lower Left; Upper-Lower Right Then descend into Base - Heh! Heh! Heh! Heh! Stud or Salome, let Conscience give choose But trust me to say I am a Man too.
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Mar 21, 2013
Mar 21, 2013 at 11:12 AM UTC
THE LOTUS SPA
The power of Averages, it means a lot if you can understand Means, a lot. Assuming a Normal Distribution, A Standard Deviation, or σ defines where about 68% of the data falls; roughly 34% above and below the Mean. Two Standard Deviations defines where a further 28% of data lies; 14% above and below 1σ and -1σ. Positive 1-Sigma is one Standard Deviation above the Mean Negative 1-Sigma is one below; The range from -2σ to 2σ includes  96% of data. The implications are astounding. Within 3 Standard Deviations, one finds 99.7% of the data; Within 4σ, 99.9%, 5σ, 99.999%, the remainder are generally outliers and other improbable results. To illustrate: Suppose we had a group of 100 people, and we wish to determine average height: If our Mean height ends up being, say, 180 cm, with a Standard Deviation of 20cm, We can suppose that of 100 people, on average, with a certain Margin of Error that is inversely proportionate to our Sample Size, or n (for sake of argument, the Probable Error, or γ, is 13.49cm) 4 are taller than 220cm 14 are between 200cm and 220cm 68 are between 160cm and 200cm 14 are from 140cm to 160cm 4 are shorter than 140cm -- Statistics is the parent of Probability; Statistics is the Art and Science of Forecast, Statistics paves the way for modern Science Statistics is a powerful weapon in the fight against Ignorance Statistics, however, are generally and intentionally misrepresented and thus misunderstood. For increasingly accurate figures, one must have a larger Sample Size and a Sample group that is a representative subgroup of the Whole *This is intentionally abused by most of the News you read or see each day on Paper and Screens alike.* If a "Statistical analysis" does not include at least Margin of Error or Probable Error, Mean (Average), Standard Deviation, and Sample Size do not take it as accurate. Depending on the source, it could even be deliberately malicious. Arm yourself with Knowledge.
0
May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 6:14 PM UTC
The Art and Science of Statistics
The power of Averages, it means a lot if you can understand Means, a lot. Assuming a Normal Distribution, A Standard Deviation, or σ defines where about 68% of the data falls; roughly 34% above and below the Mean. Two Standard Deviations defines where a further 28% of data lies; 14% above and below 1σ and -1σ. Positive 1-Sigma is one Standard Deviation above the Mean Negative 1-Sigma is one below; The range from -2σ to 2σ includes  96% of data. The implications are astounding. Within 3 Standard Deviations, one finds 99.7% of the data; Within 4σ, 99.9%, 5σ, 99.999%, the remainder are generally outliers and other improbable results. To illustrate: Suppose we had a group of 100 people, and we wish to determine average height: If our Mean height ends up being, say, 180 cm, with a Standard Deviation of 20cm, We can suppose that of 100 people, on average, with a certain Margin of Error that is inversely proportionate to our Sample Size, or n (for sake of argument, the Probable Error, or γ, is 13.49cm) 4 are taller than 220cm 14 are between 200cm and 220cm 68 are between 160cm and 200cm 14 are from 140cm to 160cm 4 are shorter than 140cm -- Statistics is the parent of Probability; Statistics is the Art and Science of Forecast, Statistics paves the way for modern Science Statistics is a powerful weapon in the fight against Ignorance Statistics, however, are generally and intentionally misrepresented and thus misunderstood. For increasingly accurate figures, one must have a larger Sample Size and a Sample group that is a representative subgroup of the Whole *This is intentionally abused by most of the News you read or see each day on Paper and Screens alike.* If a "Statistical analysis" does not include at least Margin of Error or Probable Error, Mean (Average), Standard Deviation, and Sample Size do not take it as accurate. Depending on the source, it could even be deliberately malicious. Arm yourself with Knowledge.
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51
Dear Poet Friends, Here is a poem by a young Canadian poet named Darien, which I found while browsing the Net! I would like to share this with you as a prelude to my poem about the 'Rise of The Third Reich', - which I hope to post on this Site shortly. Thanks, - Raj Nandy, New Delhi World War II - ADOLF ****** by DARIEN,  Aug 21, 2006 Austria raised a man so vile and vicious His life was dark, callous and malicious Passions of hatred engraved in his mind As he plotted to create his own mankind A soldier for Germany in World War One War to end all wars had only just begun The National Socialist Party appeared fast Their numbers grew rapidly as time passed Charismatic oratory and propaganda his tool False promises made, people he would fool Were Nazis the one to bring hope? Perhaps Without their help Germany would collapse The Reichstag Fire would be a stepping stone Germany's President died, he took the throne He became the fuhrer leader of all Germany And would start the worst war of the century War had been started with a Nazi-Soviet pact Together with Russia, Poland they attacked England and France were not ready for war Marching of Nazis soldiers was not ignored. Mussolini became his ally and supported him For all other countries their chances were slim Many countries were defeated in a few days the Fascist and Nazis would give him praise Blitzkrieg was a strategy that worked most In defeating all his enemies he came close The Nazis would spread all across Europe But it would be at Stalingrad they would stop Communist regimes were one group he did hate Yet it was the Jews he would try to annihilate In all cruelty, bloodshed, war would soon end There was still so much for people to defend On V-Day he saw all his armies demolished ****** and fascism in Europe was abolished World War Two ended the areas were secure From that evil, monstrous beast Adolf ******                                       - By Darien. (Canada)   ..........................................................................
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Sep 22, 2018
Sep 22, 2018 at 11:11 AM UTC
WORLD WAR II - ADOLF ******
Dear Poet Friends, Here is a poem by a young Canadian poet named Darien, which I found while browsing the Net! I would like to share this with you as a prelude to my poem about the 'Rise of The Third Reich', - which I hope to post on this Site shortly. Thanks, - Raj Nandy, New Delhi World War II - ADOLF ****** by DARIEN,  Aug 21, 2006 Austria raised a man so vile and vicious His life was dark, callous and malicious Passions of hatred engraved in his mind As he plotted to create his own mankind A soldier for Germany in World War One War to end all wars had only just begun The National Socialist Party appeared fast Their numbers grew rapidly as time passed Charismatic oratory and propaganda his tool False promises made, people he would fool Were Nazis the one to bring hope? Perhaps Without their help Germany would collapse The Reichstag Fire would be a stepping stone Germany's President died, he took the throne He became the fuhrer leader of all Germany And would start the worst war of the century War had been started with a Nazi-Soviet pact Together with Russia, Poland they attacked England and France were not ready for war Marching of Nazis soldiers was not ignored. Mussolini became his ally and supported him For all other countries their chances were slim Many countries were defeated in a few days the Fascist and Nazis would give him praise Blitzkrieg was a strategy that worked most In defeating all his enemies he came close The Nazis would spread all across Europe But it would be at Stalingrad they would stop Communist regimes were one group he did hate Yet it was the Jews he would try to annihilate In all cruelty, bloodshed, war would soon end There was still so much for people to defend On V-Day he saw all his armies demolished ****** and fascism in Europe was abolished World War Two ended the areas were secure From that evil, monstrous beast Adolf ******                                       - By Darien. (Canada)   ..........................................................................
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41
there's a knot in the middle of my spine - a knot made with flaming fuchsia rope - that i have never been able to untangle. my fingers aren't able to reach it quite right; no matter how much i rub or how far i arch my back against the mattress, the knot remains as taut as a lifeline. and i can't cut it loose also, i don't leave no scars on my back for i have promised myself the blade's lips can kiss my wrist and my wrist only. there have been people who have encountered me in this life to whom i have mentioned the knot. a couple of people only nodded and avoided my troubled eyes. some people have had the pleasure of fastening it even tighter. experienced sailors with impressive tying skills, that can secure an entire ship of agony and relentless torture to a worn and raw anchor as heavy as my body, with the vessel of malicious fingernails and empty words. most people have only soothed my aching back with gentle fingers; caressed and patted the knot with a tight lip drawn upon the face and pitied my sorrow with forbearing eyes. no one has ever cared to untie the unforgiving knot. no one has reached out to pull the burning end of the rope and set it loose. no one has carelessly ripped out of me the sigh i have been guarding in the hollow of my throat for so long. no one has set me free.
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May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 2:09 AM UTC
i hope my dying breath is a sigh of relief
It's just one ****** up little circle Full of hate and degradations, Malicious meanings and confused connotations That keeps us chasing after Futile fires. It hurts more and more And more and more, but feels as if time is speeding by without your doing. Your complacency is at fault. You feel yourself burning. You are the ashes Of a dying flame, Not the Phoenix.
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Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 9:11 AM UTC
Phoenix
A demon masquerading as the almighty dollar; she is cunning, and she is tricky. She is beguiling, and she is illusory. Deceitful and avaricious, yet believers follow aimlessly. To have her in your possession is nothing like how it feels to be stripped of her. Those who succumb to her seduction are granted luxury and leisure; the pledge to idolize her mindlessly is engraved into our brains. Indigence, starvation; the deprivation of the green goddess is malicious. Free yourselves from the hold she has on you; from the worldly power she possesses.
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Mar 8, 2016
Mar 8, 2016 at 7:20 PM UTC
The Green Goddess
To Be Continued Try to praise the mutilated world. Tweet the lies of love with lustful lyrics Lustrously laminated by lives of the lost Reluctantly remembering repressed memories Hidden, but recovered. Mutilation Malicious mysterious misunderstood Multiplying in the masses Magnificent. Praise Powerful prideful Portraying pure pleasure from answered prayers Proposing purpose. The world And abyss Empty like a full moon’s blank stare Echoing ignorance. Shall we challenge the Author? Is authenticity virtuous? The growth of an insatiable species To be glorious, to be remembered, To be continued
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Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 11:35 AM UTC
To Be Continued
The momentous buzzing of battling beasts Gets lost between the cracks of creeks You and I, we take our seats And wait for the show to begin I wanted fire so I brought flames But you are like water, so I am tamed Patience and love, they are the same You won't catch me asking for either The sound of malicious marching bands Outside my door as I sleep they stand And await my green light crescendo hand But here it is, locked up in yours I served my sentence for baring teeth At those who hung me up like wreath So you, you are a quantum leap I am no longer fearful of taking The air it always sounds so still On either side of my broken sill The silence it will hurt until I hear an impulsive tapping The gorgeous drumming of Gatling guns Remind me of your silver tongue You leave me like a hit-and-run Please come back; I want more And maybe, the worst kind of hell Is where our demons play so well They make each other swoon and swell But really - are we any better?
0
Oct 2, 2017
Oct 2, 2017 at 10:25 AM UTC
Honesty
In the morning I wake To the malicious swearing of my wretched clock
0
Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 2:33 AM UTC
Mornings ****
Long days seem so much longer. Distance does not make the heart grow fonder. You’ve conquered the empire of my subconscious. Your crusade so short, Yet I hope your reign continues for eons. We’re far past passive flatteries, Instead, we fill each other’s hearts with vows. You mean them now, But what about a few months? What if you decide I’m not what you want? The torment I am slowly approaching, Consumes my distant soul. I can hear the sounds of futuristic loathing, From when you decide this love has taken it’s toll. So tell me. How can I pay this inevitable toll? How can I save us from Cupid’s malicious tyranny? His arrow is too far lodged within me, I cannot remove it. I can only push it farther and farther Into my heart until it falls out of my back. But this arrow, trenchant. Cupid, the sharpest of marksmen. Yet colorblind, he is. He sees not what colors his targets represent. He draws his bow for the pure love of marksmanship. Sometimes, yet not often, He will hit the intended target. But the odds are scarce. His subjects are often punctured, And connected to one whom reciprocated Fate’s desire. Yet this time… This time… Cupid must have hit a target of Fate’s approval. For thrice he has missed. This time He and Fate are in sync. This wound may stretch over time, But the arrow shall remain firmly lodged within my ***** ***** and immovable. Until you kick it through my backside. But until then, I can only endure. I can only be woo wounded. I can only survive, Another ambush of the militant called Cupid. But I will do it for you, For by you, I’ve been so divinely seduced. Wooed by your lips. Not by your kiss, But by the music, Which your mandibles so express. I desire not to seal this wound, But to evade its’ repercussions. For I have endured a similar wound thrice. He is winged as if an angel, Yet Was Lucifer not once an angel as well? Cupid is an impostor. A spy of Agony, himself. He prays on the young, the old, the strong, and the weak. He cares not who he obliterates in his crusades. He is a bloodthirsty heathen. He makes scoundrels of Saints, And Harlots of Housewives. Saint Valentine is no Saint. He is Satan’s nightmare. At first, his arrows are ecstasy, But like a cancer, His poison-saturated arrows Seep deep within every crevice of your body. They consume you as if enriched with ****** And eventually rot within your ***** Until it is nothing but dust and a memory. One day I will assassinate Fate’s Malicious militant, The one we call Cupid.
0
Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 1:25 AM UTC
Fate's Malicious Militant, Cupid.
Long days seem so much longer. Distance does not make the heart grow fonder. You’ve conquered the empire of my subconscious. Your crusade so short, Yet I hope your reign continues for eons. We’re far past passive flatteries, Instead, we fill each other’s hearts with vows. You mean them now, But what about a few months? What if you decide I’m not what you want? The torment I am slowly approaching, Consumes my distant soul. I can hear the sounds of futuristic loathing, From when you decide this love has taken it’s toll. So tell me. How can I pay this inevitable toll? How can I save us from Cupid’s malicious tyranny? His arrow is too far lodged within me, I cannot remove it. I can only push it farther and farther Into my heart until it falls out of my back. But this arrow, trenchant. Cupid, the sharpest of marksmen. Yet colorblind, he is. He sees not what colors his targets represent. He draws his bow for the pure love of marksmanship. Sometimes, yet not often, He will hit the intended target. But the odds are scarce. His subjects are often punctured, And connected to one whom reciprocated Fate’s desire. Yet this time… This time… Cupid must have hit a target of Fate’s approval. For thrice he has missed. This time He and Fate are in sync. This wound may stretch over time, But the arrow shall remain firmly lodged within my ***** ***** and immovable. Until you kick it through my backside. But until then, I can only endure. I can only be woo wounded. I can only survive, Another ambush of the militant called Cupid. But I will do it for you, For by you, I’ve been so divinely seduced. Wooed by your lips. Not by your kiss, But by the music, Which your mandibles so express. I desire not to seal this wound, But to evade its’ repercussions. For I have endured a similar wound thrice. He is winged as if an angel, Yet Was Lucifer not once an angel as well? Cupid is an impostor. A spy of Agony, himself. He prays on the young, the old, the strong, and the weak. He cares not who he obliterates in his crusades. He is a bloodthirsty heathen. He makes scoundrels of Saints, And Harlots of Housewives. Saint Valentine is no Saint. He is Satan’s nightmare. At first, his arrows are ecstasy, But like a cancer, His poison-saturated arrows Seep deep within every crevice of your body. They consume you as if enriched with ****** And eventually rot within your ***** Until it is nothing but dust and a memory. One day I will assassinate Fate’s Malicious militant, The one we call Cupid.
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75
Probe me antagonists, For I am no longer afraid- Of your shunning or your lynching, Or stoning, or blade. You all stare with luscious eyes, Jealous, cruel-fiends. Malicious and vindictive, Hating by all means. Under the sheets- Gasping beyond belief, You kick me, I can not breath. No longer am I easy, No longer  tease to please. Sick with rage and frustration, Consumed like a disease. I know when you lie to me, The only question is why? Who said you could judge? Who made you GOD when they died? Stare at me, look into my eyes! Oh how I trusted you and you made me cry! Let down, alone I crumble by his side. Running from reality, he holds me at night. When silent sobs seep from inside. I wanna scream, but instead I hide. And sedate myself from your hellish wealth, And your perfect life, And your easy ride. I'm alone and I'm fine. I do not need you to pry. Or to pity me as I die. Twisted and dismayed; I am ****** but definitely unafraid. Foolish and used, Ill live to see another day. And the pain you caused will finally fade. And the love we knew will be replaced. I'm moving on and out of place. I don't need you, or your approving face. And all of its grace. Your drama and chilling pace- Graphic and slow, savor the chase. God what a waste. People just love to hate. 'Round and 'round, Stuck in their rut of a mental state. Dyeing, hell-bent on leaving a trace, On hurting and watching me break. Karma neither is predictable, Nor is it fast. One day you'll bear the burden And the pain of an outcast.
0
Jun 22, 2010
Jun 22, 2010 at 2:35 PM UTC
Outcast
Probe me antagonists, For I am no longer afraid- Of your shunning or your lynching, Or stoning, or blade. You all stare with luscious eyes, Jealous, cruel-fiends. Malicious and vindictive, Hating by all means. Under the sheets- Gasping beyond belief, You kick me, I can not breath. No longer am I easy, No longer  tease to please. Sick with rage and frustration, Consumed like a disease. I know when you lie to me, The only question is why? Who said you could judge? Who made you GOD when they died? Stare at me, look into my eyes! Oh how I trusted you and you made me cry! Let down, alone I crumble by his side. Running from reality, he holds me at night. When silent sobs seep from inside. I wanna scream, but instead I hide. And sedate myself from your hellish wealth, And your perfect life, And your easy ride. I'm alone and I'm fine. I do not need you to pry. Or to pity me as I die. Twisted and dismayed; I am ****** but definitely unafraid. Foolish and used, Ill live to see another day. And the pain you caused will finally fade. And the love we knew will be replaced. I'm moving on and out of place. I don't need you, or your approving face. And all of its grace. Your drama and chilling pace- Graphic and slow, savor the chase. God what a waste. People just love to hate. 'Round and 'round, Stuck in their rut of a mental state. Dyeing, hell-bent on leaving a trace, On hurting and watching me break. Karma neither is predictable, Nor is it fast. One day you'll bear the burden And the pain of an outcast.
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54
Puppet Master You crept in like a mischievious thief. Intrigued, decieved and retrieved my son. Influencing and destroying his beautiful life. Diminished his hopes, his dreams and his self-esteem. Convincing him he had no future, No love, no value was to his life. Your wicked silk spun web of deadly lies, Mislead him to believe, That happiness and love cease to exist. This is your fuel, This your fire. Your one and only desire. You will not quit until they all expire. ****** black, H or tar, You are a seductive liar. Your needle point claws buried deep his arm, Dripping with your poisonous conceit. Now you are his puppet master. Dominating his mind, his thoughts and his words. Your malicious acts preformed through him, Make him look wild, insane and disturbed. Each day in your tight intense grip, My son dwindled and shriveled away. Becoming your molded and trained apprentice. Coached to perfection in your twisted ways. You are as bad as a ****** A murderer and even more. I hate you ****** You started a war. I will not let you win! Let go of my loved and cherished son. Let him live a full and beautiful life. I surrender to you myself. Volunteer my own life. Take me instead, Be my puppet master, Enslave me, And let my baby live. L. Mack 9/20/18
0
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 12:41 AM UTC
Puppet Master
Stillness within tranquil, Movements within clamour; In mixture she stood there, Introvert she names. Gazing and perceiving, Simply fascinating; But residing in her world, was nothing but hollow. Catching her insight, Diverting towards him; telling herself, that she never matters. Self-pity, she would say, But I say strength; Pathetic, she labelled, Thou I say brave. She was simply a girl, Malicious was an unknown; Through dawn and dusk, She became a title. A title she called, The Introverts.
0
Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 11:08 AM UTC
The Introverts