"panged" poems
Trembles commence beneath the exterior
An eruption blacker than a hollow wails superior
All light alienates,
Obscured by manifested immorality
Only spared by vast vitality
Virtuousness defended,
Intended to liberate slaved maliciousness
Autonomy of the anima was the consequence
A union through yielded yin and panged yang existence
Sep 20, 2011
Sep 20, 2011 at 8:57 AM UTC
*Glass missions shut down
Window panes panged by enlarged stones
Thrown away Creep away*
**The last feeling I will ever have
The last movement I will ever take
The last time I close my eyes**
The last breath will be my dying respire
*The last time I hold you in my arms
The last movement in the wrong direction
The last feeling that will ever be taken*
**The last course of action is to be broken
The last amendment to testify
The last strike I take will be my end
The last bout will place me on a cold ****** slab
The last words I utter under my gasp of air**
The last time I look onward over the land of mishap
*The last words I write for all to recite
The last bout with anyone will be taken at nightfall
The last strike I set forth with, I will go away quietly
The last amendment read at my funeral
The last course I set out upon*
**The last eye opener will be a tear jerker
The last recourse of time will be split into many pieces
The last steps I take will be down an avenue of misguided youth
The last judgment will be passed, declaring my insanity
The last pardon from anyone given to my every whim**
The last given right will strike me in a peculiar way
*The last pardon from any courtship round table
The last judgment will over rule my pride and prejudice
The last steps I take will be my first steps rerouted
The last recourse spread upon the land that holds me dear
The last eye opener will be shutting the light onto this empty life*
**The last time I throw stones at glass palaces to see if it will shatter
The last shattering moment was my first mistake unlearnt from
The last time I go off the deep end without a life jacket**
*Never tread the waters alone
Understand you are never alone
Trust those who fill your heart
Believe in you came into this alone, no reason to go out on your own*
Jul 13, 2010
Jul 13, 2010 at 6:26 AM UTC
Now of New Age, I am a fan,
I communed with my healing man,
I relaxed, breathed, because I can,
Yes! I communed with my soul's shaman,
He appeared, by my psychic side,
At last, I met my inner guide,
But, you see, it was lunchtime,
Hunger pains panged inside,
Who is this messenger guide?
I asked, yearning deep, besides,
Yes! I did commune with my inner shaman,
Unfortunately, his name is Manga!
Let's do lunch,
End of hunch!
May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 12:51 AM UTC
her body a sack of tubes
open wounds
like wet braided mouths
muttering thunder tunnels
she watching Friday night frights
of a cruel image,
a man; with sledge hammer genitals
looking at her through a shivered mirror
desire holds her transfixed
like a blink less eye staring
at a pinned butterfly
her hunger panged tongue
locomotes side to side
in fidget spirals
brewing red lipped bubbles
like gagged
weeping cuneiform tears
imagining
an immortal portrait of lusts tribe
while downy mists of dancing worms
eat scattered apples
with love that moves destiny
disobediently grinning
like a jeering peninsula
she imagined a coil of swollen barbs
a sea of *****
rapturous arched tongues
licking ******** urethra tornados
and flooding night music
like witches whistle through cat bones
Feb 3, 2019
Feb 3, 2019 at 3:31 PM UTC
life went unbridled
from one corner to another
in the busiest cities
full of activities
for luxuries
however
in a dilapidated
untidy
unkept
broken
room
close to a place
where people sang hymns
in service of god
behind the curtain
of tatters
the hunger wrestled
with three daughters
bit by bit
while the avarice
panged
the poor
in those cities
where digital world
shines
abreast
the Moon
beyond Mars.
( Indeed, I felt pained for death of three daughters with hunger in Delhi.)
Narinder Bhangu.
Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 2:07 PM UTC
I almost sold you out for a fake smile
For moments thoughts, I mean reasoning mourned my neglect of her like a lover mourning the lose of her prince charming on their first honeymoon night.
It wasn't the first, but the second glance that ensnared my conscience into thinking it could compare to the radiance that greets me into sunrise every morning.
I wonder...
Did you feel a strangeness in your eyes, or a sudden contraction of betrayal on your face?
Because I did.
I felt the coldness of emptiness caressing my conscience like white on rice, guilt was all over me
But wait...
It was just a smile, I thought to myself, how harmful could that be?
I almost sold you out for a cheap kiss
Yes.... My second glance made it look and feel too fine and sweet to miss.
The clasping of our lips panged heavy on my confidence
Voice of reason in me grew from still small to a roaring rebuke...
Stop please stop, you're too much for this.
Stop please stop, you must not insist
But like a river determined to flow into the sea I kept on in that path and in real time, paving way of exit for my conscience whenever that voice of reason spoke.
It is just a kiss, who would fall for this?
Who would get carried away by a simple act such as that?
It was strange, the taste of something new, the taste of a sensation that didn't come from you.
I felt the coldness of emptiness caressing my conscience like white on rice, guilt was all over me
But wait...
It was just a kiss, I thought, who would ever fall for this?
I almost sold you out for a one night stand
So ashamed,
Like, "what was I thinking?"
How could I not smell a fowl play when the temporal promised a more lasting fulfilment than the eternal?
It seemed as if life had me set up and all of the odds placed against me...
But wait...
It wasn't life that made me look back
It wasn't fate that dragged my body into this unhealthy Union where I now stand with my conscience, desperately in need of a re-circumsision...
It wasn't destiny that led me to give away my dignity for some momentary pleasure at the expense of purity
I guess it has been me all the way
Setting up the trap and turning back to take the bait
What now?
Waking up from the illusion with half my senses in the right place and acknowledging the one thing that makes the difference between what I almost thought to be life what void your presence had filled...
Bottom line is..
You actually saved me even when I almost sold you out.
Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 6:24 PM UTC
In the wee hour of a chilly night,
Sleep had totally escaped my eye lid,
On the scary cooing of the gnomish owl,
Outside my house, in the canopy of native flora,
Was the owl, officially on duty of harbingering death
A short message alarm rang on my cell phone,
Idly lying at the head side of my wooden bed,
Fear and eerie had numbed my nerves
Not knowing to move and take the phone or not,
As the owlish humming of fateful music
Again is often interrupted by the mew of the cat,
A transmogrified Night-runner in perfection of evil art,
But rationality washed me sober and clear minded,
I picked the phone and viewed the message,
I came face to face with a menacing piece of literature;
‘’Dear uncle, your sister Judith is dead,
She now lies in a morgue at city hospital,
She died laughing and laughing,
Laughing away the stupid pangs,
Of cervical cancer, the master killer
Of the beautifu, the bold and the bright’’
I was discombobulated beyond chance of recombobulation,
Pains panged my heart with the fangs of self uselenessness,
All else became valueless apart from spark of disillusionment
In the pearl that; O death! O death! Why are you ever un-timely?
Must the weak fortune be in companionship of the mighty
Fate and death when-ever they both pay visit to humanity?
Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 8:19 AM UTC
I chose to draw you,
pressing hard, etched into paper—
so hard, my hand panged with aches
from the pressure.
Thick, bold lines which accented
those curious eyes
and long, wide strokes for
such smooth dark skin.
My representation so detailed,
I could almost feel you there
on the page.
Anyone could see—
there was love in those contours,
and hope in those highlights;
a pitied soul captured between hand and eye.
You were some version of the
************* Mona Lisa,
belonging to no one and everyone
all at once.
My furiously hated favorite,
hanging high and unfinished
for the world to see.
Understand me when I say
I had to press just as hard to erase
every inch of it.
With swollen knuckles
and blistered palms,
I didn’t blink until it was gone.
I refused to exhale until
there wasn’t anything left
except a few piles of dust
and a faint outline
of a subject that craved
but couldn’t stand
to be the object
of anyone’s admiration.
Aug 25, 2015
Aug 25, 2015 at 12:35 PM UTC
They tell me that you love her a lot
They can see it in your eyes
They can hear it in your voice
I don't need to wonder why
When I heard that it was her
You love a lot, as they told me
My heart panged a little
And I looked towards my feet
But I felt a peace on the inside
Happy that you were in love
Even if it wasn't with me.
Because if you love someone, they must be free
Today I realized that this is love
I can let you go
And love you at the same time
By letting you love her
Like I had hoped you would love me
But by being at peace about it
I want you to be content
I want you to love her
I want you to love life
I want you to love you
A lot
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 8:17 PM UTC
How dare I sulk
over dust which has
slipped between my fingers
when poppies are rattling
in damp air
when daises smile up
beaming at their sun
clover and grass gleam
green and iridescent;
the dust which I lost
panged me so to no
avail until today I saw
this was the food
for early June creation.
Oct 11, 2019
Oct 11, 2019 at 1:08 PM UTC
Swallowed down into these sickening depths,
like a ship too bold for the seas it sailed
before falling, living out hundreds of deaths.
Harrowing, is having a heart that has failed
in so many rights, but still has to beat on
and be beat on like the rocks that waves bewail.
Naive and emboldened you tied your own millstone
and now I can feel it all, your panged breaths.
Shallow and sharp, weak, and like you, all alone.
And there's nothing left of you, nothing to protect
so for what it's worth: You've nothing left to reflect.
Feb 17, 2022
Feb 17, 2022 at 12:50 AM UTC
tired bloodshot eyes panged from the eternal crying and despair
wispy voluptous lips begged to be kissed
silken porcelain skin akin to a century old doll
lost in memories and regret of damnable reincarnations
Jul 12, 2017
Jul 12, 2017 at 1:25 PM UTC
Do you have these too?
Infested. I think. ******
Panged into
something
Pangs haunt
my ***
tomorrow
has its own
pang place
where they lie
in wait
governed by
pangs of
dread
naught ever
pangs
on time
pang pang
you shot me down
pang pang
**** me now
poet with
a head
of steam
panging away
like your heart's
a target
and i found what hurts
you shot me down
what are you
panging
on about?
how has this word
hidden so long
when it its
my state
of pang
pang of the day
panged over you
pang me up against the wall
already
I'm steady on
haltingly
typing while you do
your worst
Copyright@2019 Dennis Willis
Feb 3, 2019
Feb 3, 2019 at 8:55 PM UTC