"outburst" poems
To **** or not to **** that’s the ******* question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the bowels to suffer
The twists and turns of outrageous rumblings
Or to take action against a bellyful of gas,
And by farting pump one out? To strain, to bloat
No more; and by a mighty outburst we’ll end
The gut’s ache, and the thousand natural stenches
That the **** is heir to, 'tis a resolution
Right devoutly to be wish'd. To **** to ****
But perchance to **** there's the ******* problem;
For in that mighty **** of doom what turds may come,
When we have let the little beauty out from mortal tail,
Must give us pause; there's the danger
That makes calamity of the farter’s life;
For who would bear the sneers and mocks of men,
The neighbour’s shock, the lover’s curling lip,
The pangs of horrid stench, the ******* o’erflowing,
The leaking **** orifice, and the drips,
Impatient strainings that the tragic farter makes,
When he himself might sweet easance make
With a careful prodding finger? Who would a ******** wear,
Grunting and sweating with noisome convulsions,
But that the dread of solids after air-release,
The undiscover'd oozings, from whose delivery
No toilet visitor recovers, puzzles the will,
And makes us bear the bellyache we have
Than fly to others we know not of?
Thus indigestion does make cowards of us all;
And then the native heave of constipation
Is sicklied o'er with the pale fear of defecation;
And enterprises of both ******* and crapping
With this regard, their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of exciting toilet action.
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 2:25 PM UTC
I am BPD.
I am the demon that possesses your mind,
I am the ghost of all you want to leave behind.
I am the monster that will make you unstable,
The voice in your head making you suicidal.
I am your heart making your emotions intense,
I am your mind, muddled and making no sense.
I am your brain making you neurotic,
With the perfect balance of a handful of psychotic.
I am your self-esteem making you feel worthless,
I will make sure you feel that you have no purpose.
I am your impulsiveness making you act reckless;
Your need to harm yourself is becoming endless.
I am your soul feeling neglected,
You feel it very deeply because you need to be protected.
I am your extreme paranoia,
Making you live in a shell, I’m a merciless destroyer.
I am your fear of rejection, you will outburst at the slightest disaffection.
So, I am BPD and I will ruin your life,
I will cover you in scars made by the blade of a knife.
Jun 13, 2016
Jun 13, 2016 at 4:03 PM UTC
Saved by the Sunflower
A very strong storm was arriving,
there were large black clouds coming from the east,
strong gusting turbulent winds threatening to snap everything,
severe down pouring of flooding rain,
as if the clouds were crying out in pain,
it did not seem there would be anyway to save the flower garden,
nothing could survive this unannounced exploding of nature,
this seemingly uncontrollable outburst,
something, maybe everything was going to be destroyed,
this day turned in to this night of hell,
the rain, the wind, the flashes of lightning,
this violent death would not be stopped this time,
then a small voice could barely be heard,
at first it was ignored, flicked away like a mosquito,
the voice did not give up though, once again it cried out,
once again it was ignored, brushed aside,
the voice continued gaining strength, it refused to be shut down,
the creator of the storm suddenly took a step back,
looking down to see where this voice was coming from,
it was emanating from this one lone sunflower,
it was the sunflower that had been given the name Perly,
Perly would not, could not be denied as she screamed out,
leave this garden oh evil storm, I will not except the outcome,
the outcome that you predict will never occur, we are fighters,
we will never give in to your senseless urges,
please wake up and hear my plea for sanity,
the storm started to weaken, slowly at first, but continued
gaining momentum loosing it's grip on this act of violence
until finally succumbing to this cry of desperation from
the little sunflower.
Gradually, the wind stopped blowing,
the rain stopped falling,
the sun began peaking thru the clouds.
Perly Sunflower had saved the lives of all the other flowers
in the garden, and the life of gardens caretaker.
A plaque is now erected on this spot proclaiming the
bravery of this little sunflower that would not give in,
would not accept, would not cower away.
The caretaker of the garden professes eternal gratitude
and love for this brave creature of Gods doing.
Thank you Perly sunflower
Gomer LePoet...
Dec 2, 2013
Dec 2, 2013 at 11:00 PM UTC
Saved by the Sunflower
A very strong storm was arriving,
there were large black clouds coming from the east,
strong gusting turbulent winds threating to snap everything,
severe down poring of flooding rain,
as if the clouds were crying out in pain,
it did not seem there would be anyway to save the flower garden,
nothing could survive this unannounced exploding of nature,
this seemingly uncontrollable outburst,
something, maybe everything was going to be destroyed,
this day turned in to this night of hell,
the rain, the wind, the flashes of lightning,
this violent death would not be stopped this time,
then a small voice could barely be heard,
at first it was ignored, flicked away like a mosquito,
the voice did not give up though, once again it cried out,
once again it was ignored, brushed aside,
the voice continued gaining strength, it refused to be shut down,
the creator of the storm suddenly took a step back,
looking down to see where this voice was coming from,
it was emanating from this one lone sunflower,
it was the sunflower that had been given the name Perly,
Perly would not, could not be denied as she screamed out,
leave this garden oh evil storm, I will not except the outcome,
the outcome that you predict will occur, we are fighters,
we will never give in to your senseless urges,
please wake up and hear my plea for sanity,
the storm started to weaken, slowly at first, but continued
gaining momentum loosing it's grip on this act of violence
until finally secumbing to this cry of desperation from
the little sunflower. Gradually, the wind stopped blowing,
the rain stopped falling, the sun began peaking thru the clouds.
Perly Sunflower had saved the lives of all the other flowers
in the garden, and the life of gardens caretaker.
A plaque is now erected on this spot proclaiming the
bravery of this little sunflower that would not give in,
would not accept, would not cower away.
The caretaker of the garden professes eternal gratitude
and love for this brave creature of Gods doing.
Thank you Perly sunflower
Gomer LePoet..
May 11, 2010
May 11, 2010 at 9:50 PM UTC
Whereabout of the heart, where might it be ?
When fury is a feeling which engages your senses, your mind and your soul in a raging outburst of negativity expressed in adrenaline,
Everything seems to be one sided, a loop which only fuels your anger with thoughts of unpleasant, disturbing annoyances, making it harder
Harder to resist, until alike a super nova, you explode in a viscious rampage with knows no escape, so, where is the heart ? Where is it?
A tantrum might be encouraged to grow in size if it's revenge you seek, desire, want to live for to make it expire, with violent passion,
Mercy or compassion, forgiveness and simpathy may be forgotten, within the depths of your burning soul, lit ablaze solely by hatred,
You may lose your mind, oh beauty of a living existence, becoming alike a lily of murderous intent, spiteful, yet elegant and wonderful,
A shivering star, ready to take its opponent down with itself while destroying what used to be so precious, unique and simply sweet,
Blemishing the unconscious without thinking of patience or the chance to calm this nuclear meltdown, unfolding in tragedy for us,
The pure light of your praying palms might help in this regard,
Because his remembrance is what makes furious hearts become calm.
~ Umi
Apr 23, 2018
Apr 23, 2018 at 6:33 PM UTC
I hate when I have to tell stories about you
people ask how you were
I get so fired up every time I have to tell someone
I tell them how I was terrified
how you would scream and swear at me almost every night
but all I ever did was give you everything you ever wanted.
night after night I would force myself to keep you happy so you wouldn't yell.
I even had to keep it a secret so I wouldn't loose what I now hold so dear to myself.
after your "incident" you said it was all out of "love"
bull. ****
You tried to force me to like the things you like
think the way you think
basically change everything that I enjoyed and you despised.
Any time I hear certain words that you've found funny
I immediately tell that person to never say it around me again.
Events that you've found "funny" ******* scared me and all you did was laugh.
Any time you were ******* left out of any ******* joke you pulled me to the side
asking why you were left out.
did you ever figure it was because YOU'RE ******* IMMATURE?
You said that every girl before me left and never supported you.
Maybe they got out of there fast once they realized how you are.
Getting away was the absolute best thing I have done
but almost everyday I have this small outburst of anger
cringing and wanting to tell you to your face how messed up you are.
how much you've messed me up.
you changed, you changed real bad.
everyone is pulling away
all because of you
**** you little boy blue
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 10:16 PM UTC
A recurring memory which ties us together,
Is the fuel for a fire beneath my pitch-black wings, take this flame,
Burn my body and break my destiny, but deep within it will always flicker in hope to be going ablaze, a firestorm of raging conflagration
Empowered by my heart, the strengh of the sun's core and a stellar flare, sweeping it all away by just a furious, mighty energetic outburst
A star amongst billions, in one of just countless traveling galaxies, may make it less special, since I am neither the brightest or strong,
But as long as I can gift you sweet light, golden and untouched to make your day brighter I will shine, try harder for your fragile sake,
Just don't gaze at me, or I'll burn my image into your eyes, blind you for all of eternity, leaving you in darkness when my goal was to send you warm light to cheer your way illuminate your path and your stay
Flapping my wings towards more light I might appear alike an angel to you, yet, I am nothing more but a demon who tries to be good,
Even if I should cause, through my burning thoughts tragedies,
One day the day will come when everything melts down, heaven then hell, then you and finally me so I am left to rest at the very last,
Embracing you with the sweetness of burnt out black feathers
~ Umi
Apr 16, 2018
Apr 16, 2018 at 6:02 PM UTC
So. You like me as your pastime?
Hmm, please take another look
And see there's a person attached to it
With a full life and dreams, fool!
Being such the ardent lover of liver
She alit the bus and sat square across a damsel
Carrying happy burden; spontaneous loss
And on this day, witness to the leaking full......
Teeming thoughts rage on inside
Sees a man spitting ceaseless into a mug
Spitting, spitting, spitting...!!
Now a china teacup .... is all she'll have.
Frustration climbs the walls like spiders
Leave behind dangling webs of duplicitous ire
Spray its viscous poison everywhere
A smack, an outburst; ugly scene.
Hard to see where it ends, where it starts
Tumultuous energy always kept in check
Surreptitious trafficking in serendipity
Split desires sport with silken threads.
Embracing pain which dominates so
Heartache elemental dogs every move
See you leave, go off alone
Hide high grievance, suffocate.
Seems this loveware needs reconfiguring
Sittin' pretty, like a duck in the water
Ain't the way; keeps the target on yer back
Life's sometimes quite the storm..... in a Chinese teacup!
S T, 03 June 2013
Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 5:15 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
The story of a tiny gift, half chewed and fear-stained
Left on the alter outside the back door:
When first stunned with a slap or a precisely timed
Bite, a vigil is held -- wings twitch and flutter.
With a curious tilt, widened eyes record
Muscle spasms; calculating the
Flight risk; metering the force of the next
Outburst; prolonging the fun.
A game or performance art?
The victim's peers yell and screech
From the rooftops - do they know
The show is for them?
After few manoeuvres more it matters little
As a tiny neck snaps between missing teeth.
The audience scatters and the corpse is left behind
As an offering for those who feed the beast.
May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 1:28 PM UTC
"Stop It!" shouted the man
who was dressed in a ***** pin stripe suit,
eye glasses half askew on his nose,
ski-slope haircut sported since his youth.
My face turned blank, shoulders shrugged
not fearing this man's belligerent outburst
because I was used to it;
it was the hundredth time I felt it's sting.
I stood there, patiently and quiet
caressing my double bass violin
my secret seventh grade lover;
she had **** curves and a deep, soothing voice.
I stood there, impatiently and quiet
waiting for Mr. Heidrich to finish the lesson
focused on the third seat violinist
whom played without feeling, again.
I stood there, overbearingly anxious
tapping on the shoulder of my wooden BFF
my rendition of the William Tell Overture
A performance worthy of a Grammy!
The man in the ***** pin stripe suit,
turned and looked at me, scornfully
his half-bald head turned beet red
body shook violently like an earthquake!
The energy released from his gullet
would have made Mount Vesuvius jealous
fiery vocals of curse and rage
would have made the evilest of demons run for cover!
My face turned blank, shoulders shrugged
not fearing this man's belligerent outburst
because I was used to it;
it was the 101st time I felt it's sting.
Sep 26, 2018
Sep 26, 2018 at 5:11 PM UTC
Stagnant,
Entertaining Ideas,
Slowly Mauling Thoughts,
Over Manifesting Mindless Acts -
Complexity Turned Suddenly Simplified -
Outburst Magnification Aligned,
Creative, Innovative,
Viral.
Sep 18, 2012
Sep 18, 2012 at 9:25 PM UTC
For my craving, satisfy me
of this spicy, loathsome
inclination of my restless soul.
You, from the Caribbean Sea--
Santiago, let your
ambrosia signifies of how
your people colloquially
refers you, as "Rock".
Santiago, a refuge
you were once for the Jews.
As desirably firm as you are,
abolish me of these crisp desires
for they renders me with nothing,
but mere pertubation.
Oh Santiago, obscure me
inside your dry rain - shadow
areas, relatively.
For a while, conceal me
so I may somehow be
healed of this tempestuous outburst.
Sing me a lullaby, Santiago.
With such unique culture
of yours, infect me.
To be vibrant, and
to become Jamaican.
Nov 2, 2015
Nov 2, 2015 at 2:39 AM UTC
Thats how I will remember her; just as she was. Laying in my bed wearing her rastafarian drug rug that twinned my own, holding my lanyard close and my brother even closer. She laughed as she watched me drink lemonade that I later learned contained laxatives, and she avoided any type of emotional outburst that didn’t reveal that she just might not be okay. As I started to exit my room and said “Goodbye”, she surprised me.
“Don’t say that Bean.”
I looked down at one brown eye and one eye colored fake blue with a contact lens, and I saw sadness in both. So I smiled sadly and said,
“Instagram you later.”
Jan 22, 2016
Jan 22, 2016 at 11:32 AM UTC
Elevate the sound
Slowly and surely
you have to listen
smell, taste and touch
the music
Alcohol? Yes.
Drugs? Yes.
What kinds? All kinds.
60 people in a room w/ worn out walls
an unwanted male is followed by hecklers
the matriarchs have had enough
and bull him to the door
He doesn't want to leave
the party is just beginning
The clowns follow him
like wild hyenas
He fights like a lion
targets the clan of the matriarch
the young and weak
is it correct to aim the violence on the weak
because the strong is of the opposite gender?
Is it right to abuse the rule
Woman: the untouchable
People being to watch
w/ their dying spectators eyes
in another section a large male confronts the house owner
They begin their violent dance of limbs
Swarming bodies collide
violent outburst
chaotic music to accompany
I scream a devils scream
fighting everywhere
Another matriarch
she jumps on the crowd
using a whiskey bottle for a club
dancing on top of the twirling bodies of energy
A pit-bull barks aggressively
people start to jump out windows
everybody is way too high
The fighting stops
with the arrival of cops
nobody listens
their vision of authority thwarted
nobody is arrested
narcotics present
amphetamine fuel
We burned a cross in a large fire half an hour earlier
Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 10:48 AM UTC
Bakit ikaw?
I like the way that you smile.
I like the way that you laugh.
I like the way that you talk.
I like the way that you walk.
I dont just like the idea of you, I love the idea of you.
I just like the way that you are.
Last week, nung magkatabi yung phone namin sa HQ.
May nagsabi sakin na, "relationship goals" DAW yung phone namin, kasi daw yung kanya, Duos tapos, saakin Ace.
Magkasunod daw na ni-release ng Samsung, kumbaga sa Apple parang iPhone 5s yung kanya, saakin iPhone 4s. Haaaays daming alam :p
Pano ba yan? Pang ilang araw at gabi ko na to, ikaw padin tumatakbo sa isip ko. I REALLY FEEL SO WEIRD.
Pag dumating din yung araw na pinaka aantay ko, hindi na kita pag aantayin. Wala akong pake kung sabihin nilang napaka bilis, i would really say, YES. Because, I can feel it. That there's something about you,
wala naman yun sa kung gaano ka katagal manligaw eh diba? Eto yung kung hanggang saan kayo aabot at gaano ka tagal.
Sige na, sasanayin ko nalang yung sarili ko. Ako nalang ulit mag aadjust. Sasanayin ko nalang yung sarili ko, na di ka kausap ng pangmatagalan. Pero, sana kumakain ka sa tamang oras at di ka nagpupuyat. Baka magkasakit ka sa pinaggagagawa mo nyan, di ko pa naman kakayanin pag di kita nakikita ng ilang araw. Kita mo naman every weekends, nag bbreakdown ako at laging puro emotional outburst kung hindi sa twitter, dito. Kasi sobrang miss na miss na talaga kita. Gusto kong mabasa mo to, pero wag muna ngayon. Nahihiya pa ko sayo. Alam mo minsan naiinis nga ko sa sarili ko eh kasi, mahiyain ka, tapos nahihiya ako.. Saan hahantong to? Ayoko ding dumadating tayo dun sa part na wala na tayong topic, kasi ayokong nabobored ka. Gusto ko pa naman na lagi kang nakangiti kahit malayo tayo sa isat isa at di tayo magkasama.
Goodnight, Jon Ray.
I love you.
Sep 26, 2015
Sep 26, 2015 at 1:25 PM UTC
Step by step a kite ascends to the sky
regains memory of transcendence
of once being the echo of a cloud
sailing speedily westwards.
the kite remembers another life
and strays far beyond it's distance permitted,
when the string rudely pulls it back,controls,
the young cloud, narcissistic
still keeps it's love for the echo, in swirling
wisps of vapor as gently caressing wet touch
The lone woman who suppresses deep inside her chest,
the tumultuous waves of love and passion,
imbuing the emotion sunset spews, suddenly breaks down
the startled sea breeze is the only witness to her outburst.
the sky slipping fast in to the gloom of darkness
stands frozen, silent, as if melting in the pain love causes,
when one bids final good bye to the beloved, vowed never to part.
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 12:14 PM UTC
I'm pouring out my thoughts on to this paper.....letting my mind free for the next caper.
I've been a superhero and a lovesick man. A few stories about putting a ring on that special woman's hand.
A story about suicide and my last ride....sound similar.....but they are not the same.....different car same lane.
Will eyes ever see this creation by me? When I look at my comments.....it says none......I'm not Drake so I'm not on one.
I guess I didn't move the crowd with my words.....if I read it to the masses would I even be heard. It's absurd that my fellow poets just don't know......they are the gasoline that helps me go......and when I blow it will be because of the fire they ignited and kept lit......
all because they didn't consider it robbery to read my shit. I apologize for that last line... but it went with the flow.....I just get frustrated when people don't leave a kind or even a bad word.......especially when I drop a piece that I think is great and I really do.....when I create it......it's definitely for me.....but I share it first with you....
The first eyes to see my baby....but you act like she's ugly .....looking at her face....and retreating in disgrace.
I guess you never met a poet who was poor ....but had expensive taste. That's why my pen stays attached to my waist.....
I wrote this poem sitting in my car after I got off of work and now I'm in the parking lot. TheTeacher penning jewels and looking to hit that jackpot......
Comments raining when I hit.......I quit! Take this pen and shove it!
Oct 7, 2012
Oct 7, 2012 at 4:52 PM UTC
To her, silence was comforting, alcohol was numbing and loneliness was all consuming
She often times scared away her nightly slumber
Her thoughts grew louder and more chaotic with every tick of the clock
She let her past mistakes consume her
Rummaged internally for answers to her actions that led her here
Lying on a mattress which sat on the carpet of a rundown apartment
Alone
To her, silence was comforting, alcohol was numbing and loneliness was all consuming
She kept eyes open all night looking and thinking and drinking
A lot of drinking to seize the thoughts that drowned her
She traveled back in her dormant state to find events she wished had happened differently Dreamt up memories where she never walked away
Or where she refrained from saying something in an outburst of anger
She was haunted by
Everything
To her, silence was comforting, alcohol was numbing and loneliness was all consuming
Her thoughts had begun to agitate her being Transforming her mind into a whirlwind of anger and helplessness
She sat up at the edge of her mattress with the palms pressed tightly against her eyes, shaking her head in a frenzy
Her hands migrated to her hair, gathering a hand full and pulling
Eyes stung with the tears that began to surface She took hasty steps toward her counter in search of a bottle to console her for the night
The only thing that put an end to the chaos was
Alcohol
To her, silence was comforting, alcohol was numbing and loneliness was all consuming
Dec 22, 2015
Dec 22, 2015 at 6:03 PM UTC
The cold distance between two hearts,
Once beating simultaneously, in unison -
A small disconnection,
A simple malfunction,
Unforeseen miscommunication amidst unvanquished certainty -
Muzzled, tightened grip,
Cloaking an angst shell of a body,
Harvesting repressed emotions,
Alluring a passive tongue -
Releasing an outpour of an outcry in an outburst,
Retribution -
Freedom released from with-in,
Healing of a contorted soul...
Commence.
Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 1:58 AM UTC
~
Underneath a crushing moonlit
Roses are dancing in a glow garden
Cram of comeliness whispering through my pensive
Applaud an agitating mind of dragging love
That submerging under a poetic passion
A wild **** of beauty wishing to crave a romance
Stressing on mind that makes
Bubbles of emotions simultaneously,
Touching and filling the empty dreams
That essence of heaven creating the melody of divine music
Passing through the poet's nose and nails
Deep ache popping at the heart and stone
There render of love conceiving to catch a **** of heaven
A tangible gaiety that creates so surprising illusion
The glimmer chords becoming to splash
The utmost inflames growing to outburst,
Bursts into the fire of gaiety--
Psyche pouring a fathomless passion till the twilight
Where there I am dancing alone with my shadow,
Ah! my Love--
Oh! my Love ----
What a Crushing Moonlit!!
~
@ Musfiq us shaleheen
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 4:23 PM UTC
I feel like I'm made of cheap glass
I have no purpose, I'm not of high class
And even though I'm of no use
That will never make a good excuse
Pardon my outburst, I'm containing my thoughts
And each one that goes can never be caught
They all burst from my mind like a brilliant volcano
Each one setting off a light and faint glow
I feel like I'm absolutely fake
I put on a smile because if I'm happy, that's all it takes
It doesn't hurt them if I'm sad, no one even cares
Because when I'm sad, they just feel the need to stare
I don't pay attention to them because I know deep in my mind
All of them have no idea of the things I think of, they're blind
Each thought darker than the last
Remembering all the bad times in the past
Each thought bubbles up and creates paranoia
Each one branches out like a giant sequoia
I hate each and every one for they swarm me like flies
I can't explain how much it hurts, but each sharp sting of pain I despise
Nov 7, 2018
Nov 7, 2018 at 3:49 PM UTC
I
You said all you could see in my eyes was passion,
But you were staring down the barrel of a gun, Russian roulette,
Go look at your journals, you always knew love was quixotic,
But you continued to fall deeper into a terrain uncharted,
Leaving me to plan everything, all the adventures, “spontaneous,”
We were never “we,” it was all faux, like my smile, maleficent.
II
Tattooed in a place you never saw is “maleficent,”
I had to remind myself who I was, you were so full of passion,
Waiting for the trigger after every outburst, each as spontaneous
As the last, you always carried a deck of cards but you preferred roulette,
You’d lost so much anyway, but this game sent you somewhere uncharted,
All you did was watch the stars, you needed a compass, this love was quixotic.
III
My love was there for the taking, it was I who was quixotic,
How did you miss it, I am Miss Maleficent,
My name is on broken hearts everywhere, in places uncharted,
But only to you, I’ve been everywhere, recognized your passion,
Loaded my gun, tried to fire, ended up blinking, **** this roulette,
I had to end it faster, I blinked till I cried, that was truly spontaneous.
IV
I am Miss Maleficent, you fell to roulette;
Curse your passion, and feelings uncharted;
Our love was both spontaneous and quixotic.
Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 12:48 PM UTC