"mongering" poems
Ebola! Ebola! Ebola!
you are only hunting in the exhausted fields,
you predecessors have done evil marvel in this land
Africa's sons and daughter were heavily taken away
in slave raid, colonial rampage two world wars, cancer
and *** aids, Ebola you must be ashamed to come here,
are you as foolish as lioness that must follow the path
initially taken by her husband the lion?
Ebola Africa is dead tired and lain forlorn
by strange diseases not known by it
but only named in the land of their cradle
where *** was born in the Irish Laboratory
on trial and error to decimate Africa's populations
in the racially biased arsenal you have also come
you fangled teeth a bare menace to each of us
you make us bleed from out body holes,
blood oozing out like Nile water from lake Victoria
Ebola! Ebola! sympathy is not a vice, but heavenly
virtue, only protege of the Godly please be sympathetic
to Africa the orphan of the classic times with no succour
her wounds of Cancer are fresh and fresh as those obnoxites
from the nasty Aids aka *** kindly empathize with Africa
you have eaten Mali and Nigeria after Congo Kinshasa
you are now in Kenya the neighbor of Sudan
the last born of Africa already rendered forlorn
by the AK 47 and AK 74, shot in the tribal tremors
O! Ebola Ebola! my prayer to you is as brief
as that; forgive me for my weird mourning
of my brothers and sister in death mongering
mandibles so ugly and Abysmal like
Gehenna of Jesus Christ, Amen!
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 7:47 PM UTC
Ebola
Ebola! Ebola! Ebola!
you are only hunting in the exhausted fields,
you predecessors have done evil marvel in this land
Africa's sons and daughter were heavily taken away
in slave raid, colonial rampage two world wars ,cancer
and *** aids, Ebola you must be ashamed to come here,
are you as foolish as lioness that must follow the path
initially taken by her husband the lion?
Ebola Africa is dead tired and lain forlorn
by strange diseases not known by it
but only named in the land of their cradle
where *** was born in the Irish Laboratory
on trial and error to decimate Africa's populations
in the racially biased arsenal you have also come
you fangled teeth a bare menace to each of us
you make us bleed from out body holes,
blood oozing out like Nile water from lake Victoria
Ebola ! Ebola ! sympathy is not a vice , but heavenly
virtue, only protege of the Godly please be sympathetic
to Africa the orphan of the classic times with no succour
her wounds of Cancer are fresh and fresh as those obnoxites
from the nasty Aids aka *** kindly empathize with Africa
you have eaten Mali and Nigeria after Congo Kinshasa
you are now in Kenya the neighbor of Sudan
the last born of Africa already rendered forlorn
by the AK 47 and AK 74 , shot in the tribal tremors
O! Ebola Ebola ! my prayer to you is as brief
as that; forgive me for my weird mourning
of my brothers and sister in death mongering
mandibles so ugly and Abysmal like
Gehenna of Jesus Christ, Amen !
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 4:59 AM UTC
...and she wears black-belt of solid
endurance, around her soul.
Because, she was born in pain city;
She's never perturbed by their
pettiness and rumor mongering attitude.
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 4:38 PM UTC
There are beetles on my skin
Attacking my bark
With pincers sharp
-trying to get in
And as they cover me
Head to toe in a blanket of living death
They tickle in bitter giggles
At my senses, set ablaze
By their exo-skeletal steps
I do not build a scream
For the sound would die out in between
The sheet of beetles
And my trodden lips
Instead I lie still
Commanding them with my negligence
Fusing with their fear-mongering
They take my shape; I don’t take theirs
I am the alpha insect
The form of their nature
And now I stand
In beetled armor
A figure against the sun
My shadow raining over the undergrowth
Reigning over the under.
In this symbiosis we travel
Across valley and valley
Coleoptera-covered Rand McNally
Covering the earth, showing
The dominance of man
The man the man
He who holds the plan
In the palm of his life-colored hand
I am he
The guardian of land and sea
Infected with a voice-in-hand
Who writes eternity
Whose pen is the land filled with ink of the sea
And with beetles of lead
I harmonize
That between myself
And quaking skies
As the world shakes in its roots
During a spacequake
That bends our atoms like dried glue
But then I am not alone
And as I rest on grass of gold
The heroes step forth, dressed in animals
In a dark, ****** harmony
That is the nature of our home, our Terra
The brute beauty in black void
Swimming through time like a turtle
On which the souls of man rest
On golden grass
Our spherical nest
And our evils are justified
By the good of our pursuit of beauty
Though selfish maybe
Though hellish for he
That swims on land
But drowns as he walks the sea
We are multitudes.
We are Gaia, we are the mother tree
The ****** bliss of humanity
Dark and light, both are we.
Mar 20, 2014
Mar 20, 2014 at 8:59 AM UTC
High-mindedness, a jealousy for good,
A loving-kindness for the great man's fame,
Dwells here and there with people of no name,
In noisome alley, and in pathless wood:
And where we think the truth least understood,
Oft may be found a "singleness of aim,"
That ought to frighten into hooded shame
A money-mongering, pitiable brood.
How glorious this affection for the cause
Of steadfast genius, toiling gallantly!
What when a stout unbending champion awes
Envy and malice to their native sty?
Unnumbered souls breathe out a still applause,
Proud to behold him in his country's eye.
2.6k
Life is a continuous matter of common observation. It enables us to realize, that each one of us, is a vivid and complex mortal living an epic story. One that carries on and on invisibly around you, like an anthill sprawling deep underground with several elaborate passageways to thousands of lives that you won’t have the chance to know.
As time passes us by, we can’t help the rushing flow of frightening responsibilities coming through our way. As a result, we tend to focus more on these perennially problematic things, instead of looking at the bigger picture, which hinders us from exploring the beautifully intricate world we live in. However, as human beings, even if we choose to neglect these duties and just start enjoying the moments we have to explore this diverse environment, we’d always be afraid of what’s going to happen next, or the consequences of our actions to the unknown future. It can’t be helped, as we are all fear mongering creatures, crippled by uncertainties that may never happen and not even affect us at all.
Despite our poor condition as temporary mortals in this world, we must always keep in mind that we exist in this universe to see our world unfold on its own beyond our imagination. To be risky enough to find our own adventure to keep us sane from the struggles we face in life, to see beyond barriers that others find to be a simple dead end, to draw things you love close to empower you to do the best of what you can with your abilities, and to find your true purpose in this life to be able to feel alive with zeal and vigor. That, to me, that is the true meaning and quintessence of life.
Jul 24, 2016
Jul 24, 2016 at 6:39 PM UTC
We are nothing more than a crop for them to reap,
A promise of freedom they would not keep.
Our unnamed masters use poison to keep us weak,
Fear mongering through media: “Your future is bleak”.
Even our food is impure, Monsanto profits off poor health.
Gotten so bad you can’t even tell if it’s them on the shelf.
This circus is run by puppets who are obsolete and insane,
Freedom of religion, internet and sexuality?
To them our freedoms are just a game.
Being free yet locked in a cage is the reality.
Parasite; the true face of politics.
Parasites that require no competence.
Politicians - no traitors, who don’t answer for crimes,
Men, no - they are insects who were born without spines.
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 8:45 PM UTC
Judy Judy Kansas cutie / it starts in the heartland / Tornado = social change through manipulated crisis / Toto the only free agent / Dorothy struck on her head by the closing window of virtual possibility / She realizes that hope'n'change have reached the prairie / Alice in Wonderland Hollywood / Kansas as futurist narrative / Star Wars pre-dated / It's a Wonderful Mythic Life / Miss Gulch as Henry Potter / Witchery in bitchery: Hillary 2016 / Scarecrow as Celtic bog-sacrifice victim / Tinman as ****** therapy client / Did that hurt? No - it felt wonderful ! / Bible-belt Pentecostal subtexts: "the anointing" / obsolete leonine monarchies / Louis Quatorze the Sun King / enlightenment through concussion / the tyrant must be resisted from the heartland / populist progressives plot stealthily to justify their rule through the wizardry of science / the tyrant utilizes tech to manipulate the credulous / green state fascism / journey out of ontic inevitability into the futurist nightmare / eco-mammon bailouts / infantile mental midgets ruled by witch-tyrants = One World Munchkinland / Dorothy as redeemer-Messiah / Dorothy as Mary Poppins / America exports populist prophecy to the greater world / Glinda the Matriarch-Goddess / Glinda as transcendent Wisdom / the Anti-witch antidote / Patriarchy creates "special effects" subterfuge / flying monkeys: shock-troops of the witch / simian social justice warriors / Obama as Witch of West AND Wizard simultaneously / flying monkeys: brown-shirt armies of new multi-culti order / George W. Bush was the the witch the house ("Hope & Change') fell on / Over the Rainbow: somewhere beyond ****** identity grievance-mongering / There's no place like the Restoration of All Things
May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 5:49 PM UTC
To many complain
On others
Writes-
How about
Instead
Complaining-
Write-
Instead of maiming
Be polite-
In
Stead of claiming
To be right,
For once take
It your wrong-
Instead of turning abhoring
Into daily trending,
Make poetry beauty
With your poems and song,
Instead of minding everyone elses
Business.
Mind yours,
Instead of back talking-
Close your door.
If your not here to write
Leave this premises-
Instead of using jealously
As anger,
Put down your acts of dennis-
The mennis- instead of making f.e,a,r
Mongering this sites boutique-
Search inside yourself,
Fix the you that is weak.
If claims dont match no names
Hush, to your sleep.
I'm here to write-
Were here to write-
Not fight about your
Bad week.
Jan 9, 2016
Jan 9, 2016 at 2:00 PM UTC
♠ ♠ ♠
Pseudo-Oriental visions
Haiku, Tanka, exotic terms
Vapid New Age vibe-transmissions
proliferating eastern germs…
Anarchistic thought collages
Existential lacerations
Nihilistic heart-massages
Incoherent lamentations,
Communism on a mission,
grievance-mongering, stewed in hate;
pounding Fascist fusion/fission
chanting harshly “ours the state”,
Hymns to Gods who choked on *****
undertaken in overdose;
rocks that never rose to comet
rolling – but ending comatose,
Hipster ironies, tongue in chic
Metro-wimps who feign the normal,
Redneck rantings up the creek
semaphoric, semi-formal,
matron’s maudlin observations,
motivational hypnosis,
(sentimental medications
offered prior to diagnosis),
coldly abstract neo-nonsense
read (by dullards) as cutting edge,
letters void of correspondence;
well-trimmed words’ linguistic hedge.
Climate whining (tried untrue)
with eco-prophecies warning doom,
Wiccans and tree-sprites trying to
undo the curse and lift the gloom,
Feministic tribal ranting,
Race-complaining, agitation,
GLBT gallivanting –
all are blights upon our nation.
Boring modernist excess,
(no longer daring – formulaic)
confounds – yet never can address
what’s wrong, and so becomes prosaic.
Lists like this are perhaps the worst;
another symptom of our times:
we who are woefully unversed
in rhythmic complaining that rhymes.
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 11:58 AM UTC
i am
--am i?--
yeah, i think i am
drunk drunk drunk
and signing myself up for
selective service so i
will be able to access my financial
aid and not have to cough up
almost $2,000 for one term
that me and my bank account
just really do not have, ya know?
and that little dropdown menu
well it doesn’t offer the option of:
“i am being forced to sign up for this
so i can afford college”
because i guess that sounds less
appealing than my being recruited
during lunch while i watched my fellow
(cis) male students dislocate their shoulders
doing pull ups so the older boys in uniform
would be proud of them and
maybe even give them a
nice little lanyard
because after over $100 to get
the right name and gender marker
on my id and $60 to get a new
birth certificate
i’m male enough for the government
to want to make into cannon fodder
but i’m still not male enough to
use the men’s room without the
threat of being verbally harassed
or physically assaulted
and that just makes me so angry
because here’s “bone-spurs donnie”
a known draft dodger of
at least 5 times who had the money
to pay off any doctor he wanted
trying his hardest to ban trans
people from enlisting
to fight in a war backed by a country
that wants them dead
yet that little M on my id
that i paid so much for
makes me eligible to be blown
to bits or come back to
a country that doesn’t want me anymore
with my brains scrambled from
shell shock and ptsd
because this country is willing
to pretty much force-feed young men
into the bottomless belly of the
war machine
always stoking the fires of the
military industrial complex with
money and unscarred flesh
and so much lies
and so much fear mongering
and i am just so tired
of having to fill in that
little bubble with my ballpoint
pen and a click of the mouse
pledging what could easily be the
rest of my life to being
riddled with bullets
miles away from home
just so i can grab that
financial aid
that perpetual carrot being dangled
in front of my oh so
transgender and queer nose
so i can afford an education
and not become another statistic
another person that the
united states of amerikkka
has failed
Dec 5, 2018
Dec 5, 2018 at 2:07 AM UTC
underneath our fiery skin
back when we learned to begin
I watched you wash ashore
****** with your sin.
Bearing all the sorrows of your kin.
You pull yourself up by those jagged bones,
faltering under oppression.
But what can we do?
we've got the world at our finger tips
but are arms are stretched out
from behind these bars,
pressing until bruised
simply trying to reach it.
For they say that
free speech only works
if you know when to keep your mouth shut.
Is that true?
Is that the air we breath?
We are taught to live
taught to love
taught to bear the scars
of the whips
that lash at our fragile skin
from the moment of birth
and for what,
to produce this same cynicism upon the next generation?
Cruel.
Cruel.
We fight for the rights of cattle
perhaps in denial
to the fact that we are the cattle.
That we are the animals.
brainless, mongering fools
who wag their tails in hopes of a pretty penny.
A pretty penny,
shiny to distract us from reality.
We are raised to be sick.
We live to be corrupt.
We breath to maintain this broken society,
and we die to protect it.
Oct 13, 2013
Oct 13, 2013 at 12:34 AM UTC
'Twas just a dream
Enough to **** the sleep
Mongering fantasies these eyes can't keep
Of that which a heavy heart is filled
Is not, it's not yet ready to spill
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 8:54 PM UTC
There are humble gods
weeping laments over guitars,
notebooks, prison floors, drums.
While locked in cells, of mind,
of design, of compromise.
Of drugs and *** and sin
and hail satan hail satan.
All the party kids go to hell!
because they dared to have a good time
on this puritan prison.
This mirror vision of the ego
of a mastermind.
This clairvoyant's hell.
This witch burning hate mongering
puritan hell.
This insane ******* place,
society,
where we all **** a certain way,
even if it's not good for us.
**** in a hole in the ground,
you don't need a ***** throne.
That's what they do in "less civilized" places.
They do what makes sense.
******* Europeans.
Aug 1, 2013
Aug 1, 2013 at 8:43 PM UTC
I just ache
to be touched by you
still swimming in heat
moist and quivering silently
beneath soft black cotton
but in those
fear-mongering moments
I can't move.
Like a statue made of marble
I ache to touch you but I end up
sitting there cold and lifeless
next to you on the bed
thinking of a million ways
in which to stroke you gently
but all we can muster together
is a few brushes of the hand
a head resting on a shoulder
a full-bodied tight squeezed hug
an awkward cheek kiss and
it's excruciatingly painful.
So much tension that builds
and builds and builds and builds
never getting anywhere.
I can feel it penting up in you too
through engorged pupils
shaking knocking knees
fidgeting hands
looks that aren't deadpan
but open and raw and swelling.
There are rises and dips
moments of eclipse
where you and I find comfort
in each other's arms
whether they be wrapped or resting
whether they be hovering just hovering
almost touching
we were almost touching.
Seeing your smile in the doorway
as I left
lanky frame in depth
an ache I cannot
escape
warming the cockles of this here mongrel heart
vast into infinity.
What a funny little cuddle jamboree!
Feb 25, 2017
Feb 25, 2017 at 7:28 PM UTC
there was this one time
that my family and I were
on food-stamps because my
wife was pregnant, and on Medicaid
because I got laid off,
because I was trying
to go back to college,
so that I could get a
piece of paper
that said I was smart
even though I used
crutches to walk.
because a piece
of paper is more
believable than
your eyes or
my mouth.
and, we were starving
so I used my mouth
to convince someone
in a tie that I really had
a disability, and a need
to eat.
that person, and his tie
asked me how long I’d
been disabled, so I
told ‘em…since 1975
is that long enough?
there was this one time
that my wife was pregnant,
and on Medicaid, and I bet
we were on food-stamps too,
and the babies that were alive
in her belly died.
so, I did the only thing
I could think of to do,
I got a tattoo, because
I wanted to carry some
part of them with me
forever, and have some
part of something that I
could show you too.
there was this one time
that I worked a job
that was stuffed and
funded by grandmas
and grandpas, by
mommas and daddies;
by people that had done
the best that they knew
how to do.
and I would go see them,
check on them, making
sure that they were safe,
warm, and away from harm.
that job is the best job I ever had,
and we’re fighting funding cuts
because people think that these
folks somehow aren’t worth it;
that they somehow are facilitating
a drug or alcohol problem, or a
********* new tattoo.
there was this one time
that I was disgusted by all
the hate-mongering, lion-killing
veteran-suicideing, poor man hating,
cop-killing, killer-copping, Jesus-weaponizing
and just wanted to be a human
surrounded by other humans
and have those other humans
care about me while I promised
to care about them.
there was this one time.
and, it was a long ****
time ago.
***
©P&ZPublications; 2015
-JBClaywell
Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 4:12 PM UTC
A heavy set eye, the keen smell of ****** spiced sent.
Perhaps the foolery of the stolen soul,
or a mixed and Contorted sense of the perverted weeping *****
My senses heavy, blood thick as gold
I **** back on this sweet and sugary Tobacco roll
To my own disdain I have become bleak Pathetic and filled with shame
Crying like the ooh so sought weeping widows of war mongering hero's
Scared and abused from the husbands raging alcoholic abuse.
Its a shame really, how the war kills the most beautiful of two.
Raging and ripping the flesh of such a supple and beautiful chest.
Gods and devils do not exist, For the evil of man is surely what exists
Not these narcissistic delusional realities of entities that blindly wish us bliss or a deadly kiss,...
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 4:00 PM UTC
Lord,
God of many names
I come as a pagan
So that the right One
Might hear my moans....
You are not a God that is either
Republican or Democrat,
You are partisan and unheeding
To their propaganda,
You do not need the popular vote,
Nor do you speak lies in speeches.
About the monsters You left in charge....
They speak sweet nothings in Your name
While they rush to cameras when
A thousand die.
They secretly take in the money
For the poor and raise funds
For their bunkers when the
Day of Reckoning comes.
With their atomic know how
And the fear mongering tactics,
Tney seek to rule me imperialistic,
They seek to destroy me moralistic.
Will you deliver me from their policies,
Save me from their budget cuts,
Confuse their sinister programs?
When the day of final Judgement comes,
Send me an Angel,
Be my refuge from the socialist control,
Keep me safe from their propaganda
Mind alterating political promises,
Save me from their campaign commercials,
Keep those who seek You
Under your safety and
Bullet proof vests.
Dec 3, 2015
Dec 3, 2015 at 1:32 PM UTC
Everyone is talking
No one is listening
Unrealistic understanding
Inconclusive hearing
Preposterous thinking
Indolent posturing
Indecisive mongering
Rude awakening
Spiteful pondering
Casual dwelling
What’s the meaning?
Life’s a rude awakening!
© Amitav
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 11:19 PM UTC
It's that time of the year again
Our politicians put on a new persona
Nothing new compared to the previous gimmick
Decade old cliched stuff, on the repeat.
A costly road ahead with a hefty expense
Back-channels, bargains and deals , none can comprehend
Funding is secured, the plans are now been drawn
Delegation to the foot-soldiers, with ease and control
The demography and previous trends have all been accounted
War-rooms being set up, as the arsenal needs to be surmounted.
Minute by minute, hour by hour
The ***** games and abuse of power
Horse trading has begun,
The influential will re-run
Money, honey or even the hard ways
Just break the loyalty and build pathways
Media Cells activated on the double
Spitting venom and creating trouble
Plethora of photoshops and planted stories
Peddling narratives, worst than conspiracy theories.
Meanwhile on the ground, a different game being played
The pawns as usual disillusioned and dismayed
Onslaught begins - First phase division
Divide by nationality, status or religion
Hate-mongering and fear-mongering
No holds barred
Political-correctness and propaganda not that far apart
All kind of theatrics have been put to use
Needless to discount the petty rhetoric and all the abuse
Both left and right wing ideologies hand-crafted to look cool
To trap the gullible and make them drool
And nationalistic pride sprayed like chem-trails
Beyond jingoism, everything else fails
Morality and conscience have vanished into thin air
Utopian lands being promised, as if almost here.
The voter's are intelligent, they keep reiterating
It's just a bait though, to lure them for voting
But then again, what is the voter supposed to do?
Greater evil or lesser evil are the choices to make
Can it get any worst, is his obvious take
Confusion, delusion and a hasty decision made
Now crib, cry, swear and the same blame game
Cometh the next election, its the same game play
The vicious cycle repeats
Politicians are back to deceive and cheat.
Alright! Been there, done that
To err is human they say
Well! Guess what?
I'll willfully repeat that!
Sep 21, 2019
Sep 21, 2019 at 10:48 AM UTC
She spoke in riddles
You mumbled in tongues
Wore mad man made robes
Learning lines of deceit
Passing trays training social slaves
At least political prisoner know
Why they are locked up
Many of us don’t realized
We are imprisoned
She spoke with poetry
Saw things better than me
Clearer vision of reality
And when she shared these thoughts
You ****** her to death
Burned and buried her alive
Strange that in these barren sand
No monument stands
There are no markers
No mourners at her grave
No eulogy until now
My gift to the woman
My love and sorrow
She spoke the truth
Eyes bold fire so fierce
That you where blinded by her radiance
And in your drooling mania
You mindless mongering to maintain status quo
You become a murderer
She was not a witch
Just a wise old lady
Feb 26, 2017
Feb 26, 2017 at 6:58 PM UTC
The delusional expectancy of arriving to a unified decision under a false, and somewhat mysterious banner leaves the tender footed Neanderthals to drawl and crawl towards their inevitable demise, at the hands of a lesser evil, catering to their cowardice, the ultimate usurper.
…
Barriers formed and forged in concrete molds left behind by a war mongering ancestry devoured by their ****** progeny.
An enemy approaches…
Throne rooms held in recessed hills, concealed in a shroud of fog, left off by the chilled steam stewing off yesteryears loss.
Heroes transported on expensive tapestry, in banners provoking deeds of old, and the memory of their meaning.
Hold in masses of collected honor.
Catapulted horrors break the line.
Strains of panic retreat in woeful singularity.
Fear infects the herd as arrowheads of cowardice break the chain-mail guard.
Women and children pushed behind a diseased king as he purges his principles in the face of death.
He seals the entrance in stone.
A son, known for his great misdeeds, and vast misfortunes takes step before his small family as the army approaches.
In a hallowed tomb as a mere boy, he heard the tune, uttered from the devil’s lips.
A summoning song.
Here he sings the treacherous tune as the sounds of heavy marching fill the halls.
The last barrier breaks.
Shrieks of terror erupt.
Demise is at hand.
Men lose their valor as they turn and flee, only to be met by a concrete reminder of their inevitable fatality.
The child’s voice grows demonic as the words begin to devour his soul.
There’s an odd presence in the room.
Death is prolonged…momentarily.
A void is opened.
The army begins to flee.
Victory is at hand.
Then the illusion of their invasion lifts, as soldiers, once more than visible, turn to ghosts, and finally fade from battle.
Cheers break out, only for a moment.
A hole opens in the center of the room, at first no larger than the size of a pin, but it expands outward at an alarming pace.
Guards scramble to funnel their people out of the breach.
An evil comes forth, once barred from the walls of this land.
It antagonizes the people with tales of its delusional sorcery.
Then thanks the young boy who brought it forth.
A world is soon devoured.
The end.
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 3:31 PM UTC
This hot season
left the grass,
dry and arid
the roots struggled
for the straggling moisture,
as the the Sun
defied all ,
stronger or weaker
the dessicated faces
the wilting flowers
and shedding of leaves,
the unrest humanity
suffering from agony,
of all races,
the downtrodden's suffering,
and sagging *******
of a child's mother,
dying with hunger,
whose hands begged for
a morsel of a bread.
And,
the wind lifted,
the poet's poem
to the place unknown,
laden with love,
soft and pure,
grandeur and sublime,
mongering goodwill,
it was then that
I noticed an emotional deluge
when the sky poured down
droplets of rain,
as if, some one wept
away, far away, no where.....
that filled the air with the moisture
everywhere, here and there....
Jul 30, 2016
Jul 30, 2016 at 10:17 PM UTC
The zeros
Storm the forms adorned in the scorn of saints
Malformed in hate
headless in the taints of beasts
Beseech-ed
In the thrones of grief
Desynced
Inwardly seething the breeding of teething entities
Learning to breath in the bodies of butchers
Sent to me
Tempting me
As we may only, but gallantly trample the temples of turbulence, with the unrest of servants, tearing at the curtains of uncertainty
Certainly
Serenity's is to surrender to the satire of the cyclical rituals of daily habitual ********
Most of it
Will commit to auto correct
Show teeth and smile to the wild blue yonder, heaving bile in style, pondering the drugged and wordily wandering, of wedding rings, and how they are squandering the fonder things.
Fear mongering in mourning of the mornings.
uniforming
So the heart can sing
And I feel the abyss in all that is
Cannot dismiss the list of pits
In my gut
As i strut my luck
And wish
On the sick sedatives of my sicknesses
And in the shady masquerades of my accolades of disobedience.
Its killing you, even if you don't believe in it
Nov 24, 2012
Nov 24, 2012 at 11:23 PM UTC