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"offloaded" poems
(Dedicated to Eric Onyebuchi Jibero) What an excruciating blow You have dealt me! A brute's uppercut offloaded A smashing hit delivered Like a monstrous boxer Desirous of fame With an amateur to tame At this one bout too many Wherein you have hit me below The belt as a sadist deriving joy From my anguish And relish From my enormous loss Oh mower, Nay hewer, Can't you feel anything? Can't you see? Can't you reason for a while With your prey? Can't you pause to ponder Just for a brief moment So you can take a good decision Choosing the right tree to fell Instead of bringing down a mere Sapling with your obedient saw? Why deal sweeping blow On a mere rookie? Can't you distinguish Between the ripe and the unripe? Between the hen and the chick? But hawks like you can pick Meat amidst bones as Moses In a basket amidst bulrushes Of Nile to spare from Pharaoh's Infant-eating sword And in wisdom did you wait Patiently to visit Methuselah At the zenith of hoary hair Master of double standards Eyes gorged Conscience seared Heart cold like frozen chicken ******* dry and drooping Like a hag's A ruthless scorpion That stings even babes Rampaging ravager Notorious brigand Marauding machinery Eliminating without scruple Whoever you choose Whose hireling are you? God's or Satan's Or both? A blank cheque you flaunt To cash as you wish But can't you condescend to a negotiating Table when a mere sapling is marked For a cutting down? Being a professional boxer Long in this senseless trade You should have seen the heap Of pain you would leave In my heart by this cruel blow Against a budding amateur whom You have served voracious earth Whose stomach is a leaking tank.
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Nov 2, 2010
Nov 2, 2010 at 5:22 AM UTC
Foul Blow
(Dedicated to Eric Onyebuchi Jibero) What an excruciating blow You have dealt me! A brute's uppercut offloaded A smashing hit delivered Like a monstrous boxer Desirous of fame With an amateur to tame At this one bout too many Wherein you have hit me below The belt as a sadist deriving joy From my anguish And relish From my enormous loss Oh mower, Nay hewer, Can't you feel anything? Can't you see? Can't you reason for a while With your prey? Can't you pause to ponder Just for a brief moment So you can take a good decision Choosing the right tree to fell Instead of bringing down a mere Sapling with your obedient saw? Why deal sweeping blow On a mere rookie? Can't you distinguish Between the ripe and the unripe? Between the hen and the chick? But hawks like you can pick Meat amidst bones as Moses In a basket amidst bulrushes Of Nile to spare from Pharaoh's Infant-eating sword And in wisdom did you wait Patiently to visit Methuselah At the zenith of hoary hair Master of double standards Eyes gorged Conscience seared Heart cold like frozen chicken ******* dry and drooping Like a hag's A ruthless scorpion That stings even babes Rampaging ravager Notorious brigand Marauding machinery Eliminating without scruple Whoever you choose Whose hireling are you? God's or Satan's Or both? A blank cheque you flaunt To cash as you wish But can't you condescend to a negotiating Table when a mere sapling is marked For a cutting down? Being a professional boxer Long in this senseless trade You should have seen the heap Of pain you would leave In my heart by this cruel blow Against a budding amateur whom You have served voracious earth Whose stomach is a leaking tank.
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The thought of you lingers in my skin Shivers tracing the contours of my bones Born is the love I bear for you, A pressure shift pressing softly over my mind My worries offloaded, slip quietly away, Leaving only the ecstasy you stir in me Rooted deeply, in marrow and muscle You’ve touched my mind, body, and soul Electrified, I become yours every time Thoughts of you betray my composure, Ruined by the thought and image of our bodies intertwined I am flushed with desire, aching for your presence, To be held once more in your rugged embrace When we are apart, butterflies swarm through me A rippling, radiant shockwave from oorgan to oorgan Reminding me that I am yours.
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May 18, 2025
May 18, 2025 at 11:57 AM UTC
Yours
Out of control and selling my soul for a box full of lucifer lights, lightning in my eyes and fire in my veins this train's heading right off the rails and the night's looking good for the 'wire in my blood' where the imps of the devil play tic tac toe, noughts with no crosses and nowhere to go. I fight tooth and nail, but I fail anyway because failure is what I know best. Destiny tells me that hell's waiting for me and nothing can change what fate's got in mind for me and fate tells me this, that I can **** up the walls or say prayers in the halls of the righteous, I can kiss my **** goodbye as I try to imagine the next link in the section of a final perfection and whatever's decoded, decided, offloaded, I am still out of control, still holding my soul up for sale, it's a head's or a tail, but either way fail and the winner takes all, think I'll just **** up the wall it's easier that way.
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May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 8:30 PM UTC
Switching point