"noxious" poems
Elephant in the room, shoo the hell away!
Don't stick around; I wish you wouldn't stay
Don't mess with my head, inciting all I feel
I don't need you here, I want to heal
Stop blaring in my ears, your noxious lies
I'm sick to the stomach with my pathetic cries
Resist flapping your gigantic ears
They simply just fan the rage in my tears
Quit blocking my view with your sheer enormity
Get out of my thoughts so better I could see
Halt your incessant skin rubbing against my sores
Chafing me raw on top of my existing scores
Pull out your pointy tusks, they poke and jab
I'm bent in many places; I don't need more stabs
Take your infernal rear out of my face!
I'm self-destructing, counting up the days
Cease your retaliation, leave with no protest
Go find and sit yourself in someone else's nest
Drop your intentions to stomp me broken
I'm mangled enough; almost misshapen
End this mindless rampage...please
Let me iron myself straight, in peace...
Dear elephant, have you gone?
Thank you for the blight of my time, you've spawned
Sep 17, 2014
Sep 17, 2014 at 10:16 PM UTC
Breathe in some gasoline
As I fly down to greet
Trade my butterfly wings
For a touch of machine
Take my evergreen
Get some new gleam
Your noxious fume spoil
Find some Asfalt sheen
My freedom I trade
For rusted shackles you see
Mar 8, 2016
Mar 8, 2016 at 9:09 AM UTC
where am i?
how am I to write when
I am no different from
those gaseous ephemeral words
who lie prostrate upon
the pages of my dictionary
carved plainly into
those battlefields strewn across
the wartorn country
my heart the despotic dictator
whose primal drumming
carries no tune
and no rhythm
and throws of explosions
grenades that
black out the world for
a brief moment
until it careens back and
slams into me
disorientated
i should have been born twice
for how could i have
both my body and that
intangible inexplicable
something inside
it stirs at the molten core
of me
that chasm that forged
those graven images
that first gave way to
a pictographic language
and offered me
a voice
to explain that immutable
all powerful
urge
lust
to throw myself on that
red button and
detonate
burst into a million pieces
and finally relieve that
nauseating pressure
of adipose smushed between
holy bone and
saintly skin
interloping in that space
and separating two lovers
barriers create madness
walls box me in
and yet i grow
an expanding balloon girl
macy’s day parade and
candy littered streets
and razor sharp edges
to steel walls pressing harder
against me than
my supple skin could
ever possibly press
back
i can’t breathe
there is no room
for my lungs to expand
and feel the
fresh sun filled meadow
of crystal air
delivering oxygen to
starved alveoli
and i can’t find your chest
to guide me
in impossible respiration
i’m suffocating in my own skin
from no outside force
but my body itself
turns inward and
shouts its dominance at my
cowering self
sniveling in the corner
of my dusty half used heart
where no blade could possible
land a blow deep enough
to silence the torment and
particular personal poison
a torture to course through
every part of me
activating every single neuron
and making me
hyperaware of my
shame and noxious
venomous corpulence
a reality i
never wanted you to see
but is written plainly
in fiery script across my forehead
and in every fold of fat.
Jun 21, 2015
Jun 21, 2015 at 10:22 PM UTC
Being lonely
He beats the gong again
The guard of kabiya.
* kabiya: cabin in which kabi (fire to frighten noxious animals like stags and wild boars) is made in autumn.
6.2k
#
A lively debate
that inside I create
A seemingly
simple state
But this state
of affairs
Is like a ****** affair*
The details
I wish not to share
Please,
don’t stare
For inside
I’m scared
Am I prepared?
Do I have
the ***** to do
what I really care?
Or am I going
to stay on this ship
of self-despair
Where
I can scream
my lungs ******
into the air
But does anyone care?
Do I even f@cking care??
Maybe a life spared
but ***spare me the
retched bullsh@t***
of self-pity
I’m self-giving
It wreaks up the air
It’s noxious scent
is not one I care
to ever encounter
or fair
Let’s “clear the air”
and take on
what I want
from now on
No longer a pawn
who is living the tired
joke
of some *pathetic
love song*
No, THIS
is my “Swan Song”
Where I belong
This sh@t is ON!
Climbing the mountain strong
Bellowing a chant
a song
That’s been so deep within
for so long
It can only come out
Right
Because “wrong”
does not belong
**This virus
is airborne**
No longer forlorn
All the darkness
is gone
You have been
forewarned
Are you ready?
Because it’s coming
Sounding the horn
Sacrificed
the firstborn
The “storm”
Once icy and cold
Now simmering warm
Going to bubble into
volcanic ash scorned
This Oath
hath been sworn
Tattered and torn
**** cloth
all that is worn
But forward my path
What’s behind me
**My ***
The past
*Worn out,
decayed,
and shriveling trash*
All that
is gone
as I head
towards the dawn
Through the darkness
I’ve trekked
The Sun rises ahead
And with it
My song
My Swan Song
I am reborn
withered and worn
But still strong
I belong
***I am one
with the Universe***
The path before me
is brightly lit
with happiness and joy
No more patheticness
All the grit
and the spit
Broken teeth
All that sh@t
It all meant something
It was THIS
*Every bruise
Every break
All the “wrongs”
and “mistakes”*
Are what it takes
You can call it fate
or simply short of fatal
but since
neonatal
through this day till
Every day
I thankfully say
“Thank you”
for showing me the way
Because now I have
A love that stays
A true love
One that can’t
get away
Because I value Me
One ‘hopes’ or ‘prays’
But like a house
Each brick is laid
Onto the next
Foundation made
A sturdy house
Can’t blow away
Hard work put in
Made it this way
The same for me
The price I paid
But end result
A saving grace
#
Dec 6, 2018
Dec 6, 2018 at 5:08 AM UTC
****
Bitter tears of pain,
this anguish of my broken soul.
Burning skin with scratches,
pride that will never be whole.
This unending nightmare
of being surrounded by wolves.
Devouring my flesh and innocence,
piece by piece, part by part.
Execrable faces changing like street lights,
lecherous with sarcastic grin, oozing with saliva.
That invidious stench of animalism,
penetrating every pore.
Noxious vandalism breaking every
fiber and destroying the very core.
Thrown on streets, like a soiled cloth,
smeared with ***** and blood.
Unconscious, unclothed, shattered
with unending seizures and spasms.
Wounds heals but scars remains,
And whenever I will touch them
I will relieve the pain.
This question of being woman,
I’ll ask again and again and again.
They say hang’em, but it will
Only be freedom from there hellish mind.
Why not let them be among thousand men
Who **** them, again and again.
Sometimes we have to speak
The language they understand.
bold(Poem dedicated to the victim of **** in Delhi.)bold
Dec 24, 2012
Dec 24, 2012 at 9:22 AM UTC
Where's the ventriloquist
throwing voices around
like whistling stray dogs
the voice and the vision
a crystal *****
whispering
with mud in the mouth
the ***** doesn't lie
a yammering vantwilaquist
who's voice springs from a blood cream corridor
with electric lips and rainbow flesh
a lost beast dazzled in endless wander lust
in search of a scarlet women
surrounded only
by aspiring virgins
sworn to be true
by desolations caress
in black ash weddings
with white frilly dresses
weeping for delicate cruelties
they will never know
his father a falling star
his soul
an undulating cobalt shrine
to her
who he can not find
a catalog of discrepancies
a noxious experiment
with a wandering eye
lust ******
embattled between reason and passion
is that look your giving me
shorthand psychic humiliation
for my vile indiscretions I'm trembling to visit upon you
I'm wearing my face like window dressing
hiding the obscenity of my true will behind a curled lip
eyes down cast
hoping to use you like a vacant room
to smear the walls and floors
with your flesh like ************ glitter
too bad
i'm outnumbered by good people
there are sky-fulls of them
agitated with moral concerns
ruining my life with logic
those scoundrels
got pedigree
ideologies
religion
folded ears and moving lips
all monkeys see and monkeys do
who are they
and
were
is
their
ventriloquist
Aug 21, 2017
Aug 21, 2017 at 12:41 PM UTC
*Venturing out
Into the woods.
Everything behind her
Is in Black and white -
Grey, but with a hope-filled
Blue sky.
Her red butterfly
Carries her transformed ideals
Within - it's always hovering close-by.
With every forward step,
Away from this manipulated
painful reality,
The scenery is painted,
Bringing it all to life -
A rainforest green;
Her sacred canopy.
Vivid,
Ever so bright,
Be it, by day,
Or, be it, by night.
Black and white do not exist
On this side of her world -
There's no grey!
Here, even shadows embrace
The blessed, illuminated,
Brilliant, pure light.
Doom,
Gloom,
And dullness,
Instantaneously banished!
Momentously replaced by
An addictive, elated state of vitality -
A miraculous invisible substance;
She embraces her newfound sanity!
Insanity just vanished!
Her aura
Paints her surroundings,
They are so alive -
In high definition, in full colour.
There are no toxins here,
No sorrow,
Nothing is needed,
Time stands still -
No need to borrow.
All of the brokenness
Is left behind,
She wanders off! -
Her soul
Free to unwind.
Here, she has no fear of heights -
There is a sacred comfort
In all that is phenomenally high,
And so,
In all that grows,
From deep down
Below.
She inhales purity
Into her lungs,
She exhales
All of her noxious emotions,
She sighs with relief,
As she lets them all go.
Sinking her feet
Into the rich ground,
Each footstep brings her closer
To the edge of her world;
This is where she is often found.
Here, she is free...
She asks herself "To stay, or to go?"
The answer, she already knows,
The soft breeze carries
This wanderlust decision away,
As the free-spirited wind
Gently blows.
By Lady R.F ©2016*
Nov 24, 2016
Nov 24, 2016 at 3:11 AM UTC
the snake—
alluring notions held in its eyes
tongue twitching with noxious desire
arrogance held in a sauntered slink
vile venom dousing budding souls
—lends itself to this nature
Jan 5, 2023
Jan 5, 2023 at 3:00 AM UTC
Ancient doors creak and groan
scraping back the dust
of ages gone
A formidable sight...
like standing guardians
since time immortal
Slinking in
past swirling fog
I pause to calm my fear
adding strength to resolve
when suddenly...
a deafening voice ERUPTS
with EXACTING FASTIDIOUS truths
Solid ground shatters beneath me...
I hover helplessly
Below me...
a noxious boiling maelstrom
The voice of truth EXPLODES from above
ECHOing my 'Every Sin'
the resounding shock-waves
drive me down
Legs lifted high
to avoid the searing pain
then
a tangle of blistered hands reach out
and drag me within the churning inferno
Blinding spin and unbearable suction
envelope
Scream fades to gurgle
Unconsciousness welcome
though never met
The searing pain still rising yet
Each fibre ripped apart
to molecular particle
Riding the vortex of purification
Separating sins from soul
Finally
Cast out
and caught yet again by the uterine web
with the voice of truth
still taunting ...
" BETTER LUCK THIS TIME "
Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 1:48 AM UTC
My auspicious and audacious assault augments the annoyance of aged accomplices.
My bodacious broadside of boffolas berates and buffaloes bros beneficently.
A classy crusade Clownishly chiseling and criticizing childishness.
A devilish ********** of dillydallying dullards; devoutly denying dimwits the dulcet dream of defiance.
Excessive, exuberant edification, ebulliently eliminating education-evictees.
A fair-weather frolic in flippancy with furious fools floundering in flawed foppishness.
Gregariously grating glum guys gleefully, growing grander garnishes of gripping gallantry gaily.
Heckling hooligans highlights my heavenly humor.
Irreverently irking irritable, iniquitous idiots in inestimably infuriating and incredible instances.
A jolly, jocular **** joking with jerks.
A kreiger kicking kleptomaniacs in the karyotype. (Cut me some slack, this is 'k', after all.)
A ludicrous, laughing lambaste of lollygagging lunatics, loftily loosing luscious lunacy on lucky losers.
A magnificent masterpiece of malfeasance, a monstrous, malevolent mission of massive misfortune for the minor minors missing no malicious missive.
A noxious, narcissistic niggling of nitwits, niftily nixing the noisome naivete of niggardly nobs.
An offhand, off-color outburst of outlandish observations to outclass the obnoxious overtures of obsequious offal.
A pragmatic prediction of possible platitudes or platypi, a placid parley of pyrotechnic pleasantries provoking Pyrrhic protections by prurient prats.
A quixotic quibble quarreling with a queer quarry.
Ribald ribbing, ruining the robust reality of the repreachful, repugnant, and rapacious with risque ridiculousness.
A silly, slighting slander of sluglike slavishness, succinctly sinking sloppy simpletons sourly.
Tracing the titillating talent of towing tyranny to towering terrors to tactless, togless, terrapins of the times.
Jan 7, 2012
Jan 7, 2012 at 11:25 PM UTC
I think I can relate you to vinegar.
Bitter, noxious, not very useful all alone.
I don't think I warned you,
but I'm a lot like bleach.
Caustic, corrosive, flammable,
and absolutely wonderful with the right material.
Now, put us together.
Were we both so stupid not to realise
that vinegar and bleach
make toxic chlorine gas?
Mar 16, 2015
Mar 16, 2015 at 7:51 PM UTC
the plants I use for trauma
are **** and aya
but the feds who are not aware of God who values Equity
think their 'views' are superior to the Torah
the Tanakh, The Old Testament and the Good Book.
God gave us all the herbs and all the plants
he created the seed
he created the sun
he created water
He is the God of the Hapless, the Widow, the Orphan
He is the God of Equity
who do the Feds/ Cops/ Gov think they are ??
to interfere with Gods laws?
I tried to get **** to get rid of my trauma
the ops that ***** me
made sure my **** was laced with Fetanal
No thanks
it does not stabalise my moods to spray a Sacred Healing Plant with noxious addictive and dangerous chemicals
It is infuriating being ripped off again, and again, and again, and again, again and again.
God never gave noxious chemicals in Genesis, he didn't create Fetanal or what ever 'rat poison' they sent this whistleblower
I do know how vice squad operate
they control vice
like Priests pimped kids who had 'fallen'
fallen meant they got ***** 'once'
so now they hoes....
God cried tooo
you would cry too
if it happened to you
Sep 24, 2022
Sep 24, 2022 at 9:25 AM UTC
Devastation
Exhausted
Phony
Redundant
Evil
Sorrow
Shallow
Inconsequential
Outlandish
Noxious
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 1:37 AM UTC
I am the oak bent or' and aged
That once stood brave as natured raged
the lines were drawn the battle staged
and man with time compassion caged
I am the field scarred by each track
that shared the weight of soldiers pack
and too felt pain from shell and flak
and those gone forth no more came back
I am the breeze scented with death
as noxious gas inhaled as breath
sent young men blind without the f
and yet their leaders ears were deaf
I am the rain washed or their blood
and roused the poppies from their bud
to honour all whom fought for good
but died before they ever should
I am the cross the epitaph
the stolen kiss the chance to laugh
when young men walked the broken path
of anguish and the aftermath
I am the note that says beware
tread lightly here with tender care
for fresh eyed boys with features fair
bore arms for you now your weight bare
I am the oak with shrapnel scars
that guides their souls to waiting stars
where commoners prop up the bars
toasting their faith with three hoorars
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 9:55 PM UTC
A lone ship,
no particular direction,
thrusts forward and
pushes through,
fighting, often,
impenetrable waves.
Waves in constant rush,
pushing back,
slamming into its
outer walls,
repeatedly,
diligently,
never losing
momentum.
In the distance,
a lighthouse makes
its presence known.
A vessel’s unfailing
guide,
a beacon of
safety and light;
a way back home.
Providing a path
out of the dark
and noxious waters,
this pharos,
with aid of buoys
of encouragement
throughout this heavy
journey,
provide a stability
not often recognized
by other ships
in the night.
Oh lighthouse,
bring me home
where roots of
benevolence grow
and branches of
serenity
may take hold.
Embellish promises
of provisions
and comfort,
as route to never
be lost in those
unenlightened waters
again.
-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights
Sep 5, 2014
Sep 5, 2014 at 8:59 AM UTC
Names are funny.
Have you ever wondered what your name would be if your parents didn't name you?
I'm one of the lucky few
that know.
If my parents didn't name me,
my name would be
Timothy.
You see, apparently,
when two people love each other,
Mommy cheats on Donny
with daddy and all three
demonize the baby.
Unfortunately,
abortion isn't an option.
Poor Donny believes
his little Johnson
made a tiny Willie
but really
it's Mike's Rick.
The trick wasn't revealed
until
Donny signed the birth certificate.
Obviously, Karen's husband abandoned their family.
Mike ripped his love from her and gave it to Dominique.
Karen,
twice-scorned,
mid-divorce,
postpartum,
decides a shelter isn't suitable for a nameless infant.
At this point, it's a little too late for abortion.
Nowhere to go,
knowing she can't stay,
Adoption became the practical option.
The noxious auction caused a nauseous reaction to her conscious. Karen picked the option, least pompus, with the most promise. An intuitively honest Christian was brought to her room so she could sign the synopsis.
As she's reviewing the terms of this blood oath, she glances at both of the parents cradling her second baby boy. They turn and ask
"What is his name?"
"I don't know. I thought he was going to be a she so I had the name Sade."
"That's ok, we have a perfect name in mind. Timothy."
Feb 26, 2017
Feb 26, 2017 at 5:26 PM UTC
Something here is not quite right.
The days have become shorter
And we are no longer certain
Of our respective fates in the world.
The times have changed and now
We are all alone.
There is no longer any light
Guiding us and we are floating
In a dark space from which there is no escape
Or reprieve.
Blank looks become our faces
And we find ourselves wandering the streets
Again, aimless and without reproach
For our crimes.
The things that once motivated
And inspired us
Have long lost their appeal
And all of our prejudices and hates
Have come back to haunt us,
Again and again.
We no longer hope for a better world
For ourselves or for anyone,
But instead
Wish our pain upon everyone we see
In these cold and bitter streets.
The night is coming soon
And with it will bring an end
To all of this.
There is nothing left except pain
And suffering.
The distance between us is widening.
We no longer communicate.
All of our technology
Has enslaved us.
We will all die alone
And with a mountain of regret
That we will never share with anyone.
A noxious gas has descended
Upon humanity and is filling
Our very souls with its vapid waste
And toxic demeanour
And now we are forced to endure
The coming dark age
With no one
And nothing to protect us
Or save us.
We wait patiently for our fate.
There is no optimism.
The time has come
To lay down our defences
And submit
To the coming reign of terror.
It is no use to fight anything.
Our time has come
And passed us by.
We have failed.
We have failed ourselves.
We have failed our world.
And we have failed each other.
Goodbye.
Good luck.
May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 3:24 AM UTC
I endured spiritual time dilation in life's stasis field,
held to a course you unwittingly set for us 40 years ago.
Back then, I knew instictively you were my beacon,
never doubted I should follow blindly, without question,
even when I lost sight and only drifted the cosmos,
always the gyroscope spinning in my head
whispered, She's still out there, leading.
So, I absorbed whatever light filtered in,
performing some manner of karmic photosynthesis,
noxious vapors escaping, replaced by vital oxygen,
a mere algae amongst humanities' phytoplankton.
And when the time-space coordinates aligned,
you re-materialized, as you'd always been there,
my sister, my spirit-guide, my love.
Jun 4, 2012
Jun 4, 2012 at 2:49 AM UTC
a malignant cancer spreads
in prime agricultural land
the Santos Company
gas wells ever expand
the waterways and aquifers
sullied with material not healthy
the corporate entity
aspiring to be more wealthy
campaigners outside fences
at drilling locations
wanting to stop the company's
sick infiltration
the fight to preserve the family farm
has been unheeded
company profitability
must be well seeded
a state government not listening
to scientist's info
seemingly it is more interested
in the gas field's revenue flow
as time goes by the waterways
and land will become sicker
all in the name of the Santos brands
noxious sticker
Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 8:15 AM UTC
I shall love diners after Death
Famished from a million mile trek
Soft dances, whimsical, flowing
All in time and in step
Effervescent in its antiquity
Light penetrates the vociferate soul
A blinding silhouette Reveals the true physique
casting no shadows
back, at last, back to the harmony &
surrealism of our sacrarium, our home
no more hours to waste away
nothing to signifying
night from day
no need to search for words to convey
As we began we return just as we should
our recrudescence revivifies our sainthood
with No judgment charged upon us
with no reward for the good
neither condemned are the noxious
immoral nor the many many absurd
For those deleterious malignant calamities
must remain incarcerated on Earth
from whence it came
As we Return once again
soul cleansed in beatific death
The physical abandoned with sin
The dead left unknown,
un birthed
Shut in
Aug 10, 2011
Aug 10, 2011 at 8:49 PM UTC
She knows it is something to eat
Smells like what she’d fancy
as yummy … but not quite
so She smoothly zigzags along
Forbidden Chords
Smells - Tosses - Hops - delicately Licks
and Jumps at once
back to Shadows wherein she always hides
paints Numerous Cooler Tones with her Yawns
Lest her Glittery Eyes
a Pair that never shuts
despite Days Seasons Nights
I approach silently
beside her
Not to bother
As if Wiser
because I look taller
-I guess-
Stupid! Stupid!
I just realize now...
An elegance of furry highness lying aside
For her ‘of me’ means
Playmateness just
none about silly bossiness among us
With me
She does her pats Gingerly
Not to hurt
As if
as if I could not handle some
Innocuous Spice
But I mind not
if she finds this way alright
because I trust her nature
with all of my broken Hearts
And let go
the all of me
Fully
to the fury of the Furry
come on babe Hit me
Come! Come Now!
arghhh!
Bites She!
swiftly and tenderly brushes afterwards
happens this
All the -outta my sight- Time
but she also
Lets me win sometimes
win ...I guess. ?. Purposefully
Anyway Yeah
Maybe it’s Love
dunno why or how
I wonder and smile then Cry
aiaiaiaiai
until a PATZ Paw
shoots my Pathos
outta Sight
Come on Babe
Hit me!
Come now! Come!
Argghh!
:))))
Bites She!
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 5:35 PM UTC
i can smell the hymn
the life i want to be in
noxious as it seems
undaunted i'll sing.
i hear the bright sun
auspicious,tells me i can!
amidst of winter
savor the invincible summer.
sighting the sweetness
this life has lot to offer.
i feel its scent like a flower
blooming from nowhere.
who will there?
trying to decipher
my incoherent thoughts
i'll share...
1-17-11
Oct 31, 2011
Oct 31, 2011 at 10:49 AM UTC