"outpace" poems
To the Master, glory!
To the Buckler, glory!
To the Sovereign, glory!
Oh, how grateful to be alive!
The hell shelling like atomic bomb
But lose not sight of the rainbow
Off the curve of hell is the heaven
Oh, how grateful to be alive!
The night’ll not endure
No matter the hell fiend
Heaven‘ll outpace its space
Oh, how grateful to be alive!
To the Almighty God, glory
To the Miracle Connoisseur, glory
To the Alpha and Omega, glory
Oh, how grateful to be alive!
The sun coming to delete the night
Conquer the brute dark by faith
And see the stars in blooming petals
Oh, how grateful to be alive!
The moon is coming this ogre night
This ambushing danger‘ll break
To the sunrise of glory
Oh, how grateful to be alive!
Turn not your back
On the forward march to glory
Shoot hope infinite to the dim horizon
Oh, how grateful to be alive!
To the King, glory!
To the Love, glory!
To the Glory, glory!
Oh, how grateful to be alive!
Nov 23, 2018
Nov 23, 2018 at 5:17 AM UTC
Adjectives continue
their downward spiral,
with adverbs likely to follow.
Wisdom, grace, and beauty
can be had three for a dollar,
as they head for a recession.
*Diaphanous, filigree,
pearlescent*, and love
are now available
at wholesale prices.
Verbs are still blue-chip investments,
but not many are willing to sell.
The image market is still strong,
but only for those rated AA or higher.
Beware of cheap imitations
sold by the side of the road.
Only the most conservative
consider rhyme a good option,
but its success in certain circles
warrants a brief mention.
The ongoing search for fresh
metaphor has caused concern
among environmental activists,
who warn that both the moon and the sea
have measurably diminished
since the dawn of the Romantic era.
Latter-day prosodists are having to settle
for menial positions in poultry plants,
where an aptitude for repetitive rhythms
is considered a valuable trait.
The outlook for the future remains uncertain,
and troubled times may lie ahead.
Supply will continue to outpace demand,
and the best of the lot will remain unread.
Mar 9, 2014
Mar 9, 2014 at 3:05 PM UTC
I was deep in the land of shadows
Halfway between the living and dead
In the awful silence of void
The atmospheres soft
And it’s people plastic
Mephistophelean and astute
When a band of ruffians stormed
The inferno beneath
With volcanic tremor
Sweeping down like a tidal wave
Of so terrific Tsunamic magnitude
Spurning all restraint
Slowed down my pace
By reciprocal math of wizardly
Substituting the direct proportion for inverse
I dragged and they almost flew
Corpsic form and tattered cloth
Is all I see and
Gaping mouth oozing blood
Grotesque creatures tinting hell
After me and almost done
I should out loud voiceless
I reach for the nothingness
And there’s no thing
I stretch still to scale it down
Wishing I had wings
And take flight
Or superhuman like Superman
Hopping I possessed metaphysical force
Like the Matrix upgrade version
To disembody and dematerialize
And so vanish into stillness
To hang in space out of sight
By the trickery of magic
To cast spell like lady of the Voodoo
And freeze plant herbage and the human
Instantly and give a diabolic glean
Make a catwalk of villain trump
To the disgust of victim
And ultimate flown of the gods
That hardly smile anyway
But I am human and my powers feeble
My infinity lies bound within
Time and daylight
The parameters of finite
In a rat race so unfair
Distances too close and defeat too plain
I die out and awoke within
To brace another day with headache
Devil, I escaped Gehenna
That gives me surety I will outpace you
For what I saw when I slept
Hail Tartarus I am Morpheus
Jun 18, 2012
Jun 18, 2012 at 9:29 AM UTC
I'm listening to Chance the Rapper
And there's some whimsy in these veins
Some
Give me a weeken' of sleepin'
I think I can come around after that
Hashtags
Yolos
Swags
Take a tire iron to the side of my face
My mind's lost its wheels
All I want to do is **********
Just to feel
******* to self-sabotage
Explosions of regret
And possible highs
of Seratonin and Dopamine
Let's get high
It's weird
When I was a kid
My goal was to make everyone
Stop smoking
Seeing that white puff
Trail from the mouths of adults
All I wanted was for them to realize what they were doing
The un-healthy choices they were making
And now
all I think about
Is buying a pack
Just to cut the
Edge off of
whate'er
the ****
I'm feeling
Keyholed poet
See what I did there?
It was an on-purpose accident
Am I really meant for priesthood?
Is that something that's in my life?
I mean, what, 4+ years solo?
Dates in between,
and ladies, thank you
For the times where you remind me
I'm worth a ****
Or an hour of your time.
But for the most part, I'm solo
My mom, God Bless her, has been single
Dates in between
For 7+ years
Maybe I'll catch up.
Maybe I'll outpace her
She sent me her will the other day
You're looking at the guy in charge of her life
Should she be unable to make decisions.
Well, I guess you're not looking
You're reading, some half-assed-therapy foreplay
Ladies, love me, I'm a weird, depressing sack of ****
Aww, poor baby
Maybe
Pick yourself up off the fuckin' floor and make something of yourself
God willing, there's something
I just gotta put on some different
Lenses
These are getting dark
Maybe I need to drop off the map
And find a cleaner
Do they have those for rose lenses?
May 2, 2013
May 2, 2013 at 7:43 PM UTC
i lift my shoulders and hunch my back
don't look at me don't look at me don't look at me
walking faster, heart racing, i feel the presence getting closer
leave me alone leave me alone leave me alone
i break into a futile sprint
it's not as though i can speak
tell it to leave my sight
tell it i have nothing left for it to take
hope it believes me
while i shove the final page of my story deeper into my pocket
i know better than to lie to this thing
my legs are growing heavy as i try to outpace it
but it's no use
an experienced hunter, the creature waits for me to exhaust myself running from it, then moves in for the ****
at least there, i have the last laugh-
i have already died from fear
May 22, 2022
May 22, 2022 at 2:11 AM UTC
I read to forget
I read to feel
I read to escape
I read to heal
I read to remember
I read to distract
I read to connect
I read to backtrack
I’m okay when I read
but it hurts when I don’t
Characters are my friends
when my real friends won’t
The words are my freedom
from this desolate kingdom
Isolated by feedback and uncontrollable flashbacks
I need release from the pain
To breakout of these chains
They torture my brain
looking to blame
I keep running away
from the grief in my mind
I’m tortured by thoughts
I’m not ready to find
I’m trying to outpace my agony and resentment
But my only liberation is to accept contentment
My bookcase is filling with more empty reads
Who am I kidding, what more could I need
Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 12:48 PM UTC
What can I say
I'm trying to send a message
A few words to portray
Exactly what's going on in my head
Things really aren't clear
I feel a bit dead
I don't know why I'm here
I need to get up, and get ahead
Outpace them all
Like I know I can
Scale the "impossible" wall
An became a woman
I know I'm strong
I know I'm intelligent
I admit when I'm wrong
(can't find a rhyme but you get the hint)
I'm a critical thinker
I see through the lines
But my mind's beginning to splinter
I'm not actually fine
The world's driving me mad
And I'm feeling homicidal
Then stop feeling bad
For being suicidal
I don't like it here enough
To put up with ****
Lights out like *****
Don't think I tried well I did
Four times in one year
Guess I really wanna get out of here
I spilled one last tear
And knew death was near
First time I cut a tad too deep
Second time I took a little too much Paracetamol
Next I tried to hang myself, failed and felt like a creep
Then I thought a lot about jumping off of walls
Finally I overdosed
I was home alone
No one knows
It hurt a lot
My life flashed before my eyes
I knew I was going to die
Somehow I woke up alive
And now I'm here writing dumb ****
And thinking about number five
Jul 30, 2019
Jul 30, 2019 at 6:24 AM UTC
Pro patria mori
Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.
For generations
we've sold these goods
to young boys
who burn for glory.
Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.
Indeed, how sweet ,
Pray tell
Poppy covered warrior.
Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.
How sweet was the Somme?
Such little ground
was gained with
half a generation gone.
Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.
When weapons
far outpace the men
what an empty word
is glory.
Jan 14, 2012
Jan 14, 2012 at 4:27 PM UTC
I woke early and walked
as if by advancing
with my back to the sun
I might outpace
what was to come.
As if my futures may
for a while, be kept at bay
As if I might yet sojourn this day
and elude the shadows
of what was to come
I walked until today was spent
and empty-handed,
I entered my advent
Aug 25, 2025
Aug 25, 2025 at 4:10 AM UTC
I invite you now to walk with me,
Take my hand you wanderlust soul.
Close your eyes so you can see
These things of which I think and dream.
First the night sky, that star-splattered eye
The moon, its iris, bright silver light.
When blinking, dies to sun-lit day
The lid that keeps all-dark at bay.
And as with all eyes this one cries
Droplets of water like falling tides.
Rain drums down on thirsty sand
The brushes of a close friend’s hand.
Travel now across the dunes,
The sand unraveling in cool night air
And spreading ‘cross the still parched earth
Little thoughts and notions it will consume.
Reaching a crest, you spot a silhouette
Of buildings, like teeth, that snarl at the sky.
Wonder then at hidden virtues,
Placed amongst the sinful hues.
Venture, now, to the city
Whose shimmering lights the dark defy.
Envision now the light of sin
The glare that sends all love to die.
Herein we see the embers burning
Chunks of coal that leave us yearning.
Our minds outpace reality to bliss
Leaving them to burn in deadly furnace.
Here more than elsewhere I misplace my thoughts
Losing them to fiery draught
But other places yet occupy this land
Than cities and dunes and a comforting hand.
There is a place where sound takes shape
Kinetic colors that move, whirl and sway
To beats and rhythms, they dance away
Holding intrusive thought at bay.
While high above, the angels soar
“It’s a strange world”~ and they would know;
While soft guitars do strum below.
Their cadence hum and softly roar
Roads meet, twist, and converge,
Disappear into tunnels, do they ever emerge?
Their paved surfaces running back and forth,
While passing one and another, a third, a fourth.
I leave you now with this mirage
This, my personal mental image.
They are my dreams and reveries
This place where I shall ever be.
Feb 3, 2012
Feb 3, 2012 at 8:41 PM UTC
You know the song
So bring it on.
Football is the theme,
And England is our team.
We invented the modern game,
So losing is a shame.
But we are going to win.
Let the celebrations begin.
Bring on Croatia,
We know we can outpace ya.
As for France,
We’ll lead them a merry dance.
If it’s Belgium we’re happy too,
They always let you through.
Though nothing is ever certain,
Until the final curtain.
We’re owed (a lot) from Lady Luck,
But so long as we win, I don’t give a…
It’s time we won again,
Making boys into men.
I really hope we win:
Prepare for quite a din.
History could be made
That will never ever fade.
Paul Butters
© PB 9\7\2018.
Jul 9, 2018
Jul 9, 2018 at 3:19 PM UTC
I'm done trying to write,
So I'm going to write.
I kept searching through a
catalogue of memories,
And soon-to-be's,
Trying to find some great metaphor,
Or situation to use,
But it became borderline self abuse
Trying to find non-cliche ********
But I'm done trying to right,
So I'm going to write -
'I miss you'
and well, the real question is
*Who the **** wouldn't?*
Your eyes hide a lot kid,
And that's what makes you frustrating
I can't tell if they are clear or fading,
But I kinda hope I never learn
So it forces towards me to discern,
If you really choose comfortability
That's ok lady gaga because your poker face
will never outpace your smile
That smile gives away more than your eyes,
The sudden urge to not when you know you're speaking beautiful lies
It shifts when you need to look away
And it's because you have to wear it every day
It's easy for someone to miss
the subtle ways.
And you, you're as subtle as a chainsaw,
To the people that actually see you.
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 1:58 PM UTC
You won't remember all the fuss you
cause, my precious microcosm
This strange bewildering exhausting
global economy you dwell in
Apparently the lease expired and your time has come
Driven by grievance more than strategy
It sets the stage for fireworks and confusion
In one dizzying morning into afternoon
I'm searching for who to blame
Histories on the episode may well spend a chapter on
your mother's unhinged notions née crazy talk
It becomes clear in real time how the risks
of an escalating trade war
give a centimeter, take a centimeter
And the fraying of longstanding ties
Could quickly outpace the ability to evict you
As your mother, the normal first responder
to your distress, I can do
Absolutely nothing about it but push
In what seems a shoot-first approach to such
a delicate moment
The escalation, the unpredictability, the erratic
nature of developments
Is central to what is going on
Something is breaking
That something is me!
Our world is on edge
Looking for a sign of what to do next
The labor market drops and you're crowned
a royal pain
Peace is found, it's proportional
And by all measures you're quite hale
quite beautiful!
This offsets the damage of a messy exit
The disconnect I incessantly prayed for offers
melancholy over relief
In our opening act you're already moving
away from me
While the female body is a powerful tool
It cannot provide a settled rule book for
such internal battle
Still, this adventure, scary and catastrophic as
it was, is well-suited to the wonders that I am
For that I'm grateful to my Creator
The lesson of the last several hours is that forces are unfolding
that we can't do much to contain
We're merely nesting passengers en route to
a foreign destination
Oct 18, 2019
Oct 18, 2019 at 6:00 PM UTC
Huh, Get me out of this race, I am too tired to chase
and can no more outpace, all these rats in this place.
God, I'm running out of dates, running out of grace
and now there's a war in my brains, I can longer face.
These were my thoughts of those days, thoughts of that phase
a phase with all the haze, huh, really my dog days.
You eve' had a thousand days, stuck in a maze,
and all the people say, you are a ****** buttface!
Oh, you know, all those Sundays, and your pastor takes
a bible to praise, and shoves on your face, with a freaking verse.
Sorry, It's time I replace, a 'God' that brings disgrace.
It's time I erase, the 'you' in my brains, without leaving a trace.
No please God, Why don't you come out of space, to this base
and do what it takes, to make this g'damn world amaze!
Oh my Lord, It's too cruel to stay, with all your plays,
in that space, when your race is in search of a brace.
Lord, Just open the gates, get us out of these straits,
to a whole new place, Father, with all your grace.
Lord, just in case, if you can't deal with our mistakes,
just bury us in your rage, but please don't leave us in these Hades.
Aug 28, 2016
Aug 28, 2016 at 12:34 PM UTC
**FIRST: the backstabbers. "trust is so easily broken."**
// her eyes are not windows to the soul, but to the galaxy. her skin, when examined with care, holds twelve million maps of stars, all lightyears away. the isoceles triangle of freckles on the hip bone are you. the delicate scars on the inner wrist are her.
// "i will find you," you tell her, one among other promises whispered to her skin that you have no way to keep. you memorize the outer scars of her inner soul. ***** gravity."
**SECOND: the victims. "give until there's nothing left."**
// she ***** you dry. she is no vampire. no, not a vampire; a succubus does not feed on something as mundane as blood. every time you fall in love with her, she digs her fingernails into your skin and drains it right out of you. and you can't help but fall in love again, and again, and again, until you are a withered husk of a being. you are someone who died too many times and no amount of electric lust can save you now.
**THIRD: the soulmates. "you love too deeply. it will destroy you."**
// you hurt each other, yes, but no one else has the antidote to this particular poison, and that's okay. he completes you, and you him. seventeen times he's told you he loves you and you match him for each one. your love for him cannot outpace his for you, nor vice versa.
// then there is an accident, a hospital room, a marble stone with an epitaph that's not right, and you crumble under the weight of all that love.
May 23, 2015
May 23, 2015 at 11:22 AM UTC
there is no magic that can outpace wit
nor any spell to outdo normal pluck
still in the end we all are in the ****
you might expect things would ease up a bit
but what you find is that your feet are stuck
there is no magic that can outpace wit
but not a single line of yours will hit
just where you want so you are out of luck
still in the end we all are in the ****
not one of us is ever quite legit
as all our best hopes end up in the muck
there is no magic that can outpace wit
we get a win our thoughts begin to flit
towards good chance if things don't go amuck
still in the end we all are in the ****
no matter what we do despite our grit
the laws of nature just don't give a ****
there is no magic that can outpace wit
still in the end we all are in the ****
Jul 2, 2012
Jul 2, 2012 at 8:40 AM UTC
In day,
I know
a burden.
A person,
should
never
be.
It's just,
my
expectations
outpace
my
empathy.
What is love,
but quotas
fulfilled?
Physical
and
emotional
gain?
In night,
I go
by Tri-Met.
Chinatown's
streets
beckon
me.
I hold
my
neck upright, tall
as I
can
possibly.
I left a
hollow husk/
body double,
sleeping on
my couch,
beside my
dead flame
and her bed.
Between the snoring,
and my black feet,
I escape easily.
What is love,
but quotas
fulfilled?
Physical
and
emotional
gain?
When I escape,
I can be who
I know I want to be.
So in the crisp night,
in the fresh rain,
I take a time slot,
so I can dance
away my pain.
I never knew
it was easy,
easy as this.
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 5:01 PM UTC
i can only imagine a day
where you'd prefer to stay
than sprint away.
So Run.
Run faster and faster and faster!
otherwise
my
begging may outpace you.
Feb 6, 2017
Feb 6, 2017 at 4:43 PM UTC
Our every talk
an episode of competitive mind athletics
As each tries to outpace the other
On the eccentric field tracks of conversation.
We are more like ****** – militants,
For after every hello and before the next goodbye there always remains a trail of carnage;
Inside my eyes and on your face are the grimmest battlefields;
Emotions are always the casualties;
Paying the price for two egos clashing in frantic effort to maintain the gravities of inner pride.
Your name and mine;
Two eagles wrestling every hour
trying gravely to unsettle the establishment;
To shift the equilibrium,
To make the universe lose its balance.
Lady;
The survival of our acquaintance is based on something stronger than the spiritual;
Our mutualism
One flower least expected to flourish
I think nature made me for you;
I am the antithesis to your existence;
Only in our duality can peace exist;
Two powers of chaos
Tumultuous forces that cannot live without each other.
Teyana;
I think you know that I am the best thing that is ever going to happen to you.
{She Smiles and nods}
WordSmith_Wiz
31/12/2018
Jun 3, 2019
Jun 3, 2019 at 10:25 AM UTC
Seemed as if we were both reading the same book.
I knew one of us would outpace the other.
..Most likely it would be me.
I guess I am too eager to see what unfolds on the next few pages.
But for whatever reason, and with no warning, you put your book down.
The rest of the pages in my book become empty.
Flipping back and forth doesn't help.
As soon as the pages start to tear I realize I have to put mine down now.
This isn't the first story I've found where the words just disappear.
No happy ending.
No ending at all..
Just another unfinished adventure...
Oct 29, 2020
Oct 29, 2020 at 10:41 PM UTC
glowing, a dream
of surreal heartbeats
incandescent omniscient eyes
knowing it seems
what I am about to think
hope is more fearing of
daylight as I long more
with each night, every dream
hear the ghostly footsteps
nearer when I wake,
then in any nightmare.
There the similarities of alive
with death outpace
the differences, dreams knit
more peace , hope than
awakening thought, they twine from the same ball
unrolling vice versa
the fog gets a brighter green a glow
days get so long and gray
and dreams tomorrow
I may stay in.
Oct 6, 2015
Oct 6, 2015 at 10:30 PM UTC
The peak seemed so far away
When I glanced upwards towards the canopy
Reliving every step of this journey
That has taken me so far from where I began
As the clouds inched closer I could feel a shift
Within the paradigm that comes with altitude
A palpable change in the way I saw the world
Now at 2000 feet above the sea
Far removed from whence my home sits
I pondered the reason for my steps
And the meaning behind the climb
Maybe it is so I could be as a king
Sitting atop the world and looking down
To the valleys that define the struggles of life
Or perhaps I am running in slow motion
Trying to outpace the memories that haunt my vision
In an attempt to regain a breath of the freedom
That responsibility had so hastily stolen
Without my consent
But as I marched the distance became inconsequential
As the birds chirped a peaceful melody
I began to hear the song of nature
And within my minds eye
Halfway up this mountain
I reached the top of my soul
Jul 31, 2016
Jul 31, 2016 at 10:00 AM UTC