"pestilent" poems
A populace filled with totalitarian tranquility
The supposition that the world is in a harmonic homeostasis
Blissful ignorance that leads to careless calamity
Amid the uproar of the most populated of places
Therein lies the seed of humanity’s deceptive destruction
A solitary host housing a virulent virus
Infectious disease that proceeds crisis and corruption
Hope only stands with the powerful and pious
Prognosis describes communicable cannibalism
Rabid outbursts show signs of voracious violence
The harrowing pandemic leads to ceaseless cataclysm
Cities and towns suspended in systemic silence
Habitations riddled with gratuitous gore
Hope fades in the wake of the crimson carnage
The pestilent hoard feeds to a glutton’s galore
The Author of humanity publishes the final page
The closing verse rains down a rapturous recompense
The high cost of a dense population paid at humanity’s existential expense
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 11:06 PM UTC
The roses of Love glad the garden of life,
Though nurtur’d ’mid weeds dropping pestilent dew,
Till Time crops the leaves with unmerciful knife,
Or prunes them for ever, in Love’s last adieu!
In vain, with endearments, we soothe the sad heart,
In vain do we vow for an age to be true;
The chance of an hour may command us to part,
Or Death disunite us, in Love’s last adieu!
Still Hope, breathing peace, through the grief-swollen breast,
Will whisper, “Our meeting we yet may renew:”
With this dream of deceit, half our sorrow’s represt,
Nor taste we the poison, of Love’s last adieu!
Oh! mark you yon pair, in the sunshine of youth,
Love twin’d round their childhood his flow’rs as they grew;
They flourish awhile, in the season of truth,
Till chill’d by the winter of Love’s last adieu!
Sweet lady! why thus doth a tear steal its way,
Down a cheek which outrivals thy ***** in hue?
Yet why do I ask?—to distraction a prey,
Thy reason has perish’d, with Love’s last adieu!
Oh! who is yon Misanthrope, shunning mankind?
From cities to caves of the forest he flew:
There, raving, he howls his complaint to the wind;
The mountains reverberate Love’s last adieu!
Now Hate rules a heart which in Love’s easy chains,
Once Passion’s tumultuous blandishments knew;
Despair now inflames the dark tide of his veins,
He ponders, in frenzy, on Love’s last adieu!
How he envies the wretch, with a soul wrapt in steel!
His pleasures are scarce, yet his troubles are few,
Who laughs at the pang that he never can feel,
And dreads not the anguish of Love’s last adieu!
Youth flies, life decays, even hope is o’ercast;
No more, with Love’s former devotion, we sue:
He spreads his young wing, he retires with the blast;
The shroud of affection is Love’s last adieu!
In this life of probation, for rapture divine,
Astrea declares that some penance is due;
From him, who has worshipp’d at Love’s gentle shrine,
The atonement is ample, in Love’s last adieu!
Who kneels to the God, on his altar of light
Must myrtle and cypress alternately strew:
His myrtle, an emblem of purest delight,
His cypress, the garland of Love’s last adieu!
3.7k
Control
Like love
Is indifferent
To race, color or age
I see upright monkeys
With honed, lunatic, pestilent
Expressions
Around endless corners
living out-
and hosing down somberly-
Frequency dreams
Battery life sputter drains
that whip with sardonic torment-
Beat with blood-bathed smiles
Laughing to slow vertiginous rhythm
in captivating faces
Take, take, take-
To receive such
an empty promise
And I've lost interest
in this silent war
We've constructed
so dizzily
Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 4:22 PM UTC
I pulled back the thicket
Brambles and thorns
Bordering my mind
Inch by inch
To let you slip inside
Hi
I hope you don't mind
The pestilent storm of neuroses
The angry winds whipping around
Eroding my cognition
(They all say
I ought to stop overthinking
They don't know the half of it)
Pardon the mess
The litter of apprehensions
Flotsam and jetsam of rumination
Tangles of tangents
Smog of chimeric thoughts
Sticky rambles festering in the corner
Acidic drizzle
Of obstinate wayward tunes
Insecurity and fear
Eating into the pillars and foundations
If you don't mind terribly
The clatter of sleet
The noisome fumes
The skittering vermin
The sheer clutter
That would make packrats shake their heads
If you don't mind
At all
Would you stay?
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 7:24 AM UTC
No, do dread my glance ,im Helen.
im the purest creature of rage ****
a lapse glance alas , a doom .
a dream of Luth's sealed gloom.
sinister glare of Gomorrah bright.
soured sight of sere flower blight.
im venomous kiss of sweetest lips.
deadliest breath of daughter of Rappicini.
come fair son of light and beauty.
date me with naive lurking desire.
receive my poisonous breath satire .
i will sail thee near a pestilent fountain.
im the sinister Titania and Bottom and more i contain.
behold you not with my innocent beauty .
perverse is my nature intend but my name holy.
dost cross the path to purity on mount Sinai.
cause i shall rule and Helen the offspring of my ****
is lure untamed fiend,feed her she behold with leech.
no, one of my breath is a blast to thy life to leash.
my glare is illuminated like azure Vegas.
my nectar Pompeii larva of past .
my beauty is heaven flame it charms .
come; rich, beauty ,savant and fame.
for thou dost not behold with immortal Ichor.
sip deep my breath.
and meddle you with my luring glare.
im Titania i hang over my head a dagger.
upon which thy blood stream to the Bottom.
thou thinkest to entwine me ?
no,lo King Cophetua and the beggar maid.
and my judgement hell fire .
Thebes is in rout but Capaneus bid dust.
what dost thou want ,thou Sophist ?
no the sojourn of thee is Zeus Kirma.
beset for worst as the writ Apocrypha.
come thee savant ,come thee poet.
bekneel before the sacred attire .
heaven bow before the holy Dionysus.
for we beset you with frenzy ,ecstasy, and drama.
all behold the same destiny.
but elixir yonder in Kimmerian trinity.
try not you for eternal bloom .
cause error at Achille right heel.
but Maqueros, Lazarus , and Leviticus.
all will queenly glance at our Caduceus.
behold you not my beauty.
but behold you with our Pow wow.
behold you ! say Amen RA.
Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 3:00 PM UTC
Never finding expectation to exist beyond the last known blip of the past, projected through my back, in tackled grounds, bound, in the banter of spectators, speculating the specifications of specialised weaponry, silencing the empathy, and seducing my enemies in the isolated idolatry of their stupidity that i sculpted from the scrutiny, that was wished to have eluded me but soothed my playful solidarity to my sickly game called reap and sow instead.
We are all dead, all dead inside, residing in thriving wounds.
Left unsaid in rhymes etched in tombs.
In the lies of old bafoons
I shall not fight, myself, as they do, nor shall i defy whats right just to eat tonight.
I will fight until I am mine and sleep.
Cradled in my shrine of thoughts amiss, in the frost of loss vs reward.
I am torn, between torture and a vultures wait of the prize to pedal the pestilent pettiness to the edges of my testaments, in the truth of youth-less suicide, slicing social structures into cylinders to swing in circles around the room.
Swooning, in my looming threat of self immolation to warm the heart with shopping carts of satire, killing the sad away.
Delaying the the decay of hope.
A stay of patience in my irrelevance,never hesitant in my clever projections of nothing.
I feed you nothing
But emptiness
Shuttering in the sultry shade of my suffering and loving every moment of it.
Saying nothing too much in things of such insignificance.
Spilling the mizpellings and settling for wordlessness after a good ***** of belligerent arrogance.
Im tempted to quit but my wick is lit and to submit now, would just put the fire out and i want to watch the burn.
Dec 13, 2012
Dec 13, 2012 at 11:41 PM UTC
Righteous Isis,
priceless queen, rife with green
vines winding between her lungs,
around her tongue, crowned with beams
of the ancient sun, power of Ra
beneath her thumb, life-giving wife,
wild child of reptiles, pride of the Nile--
righteous Isis,
she who gives birth to heaven and earth,
sovereign sorceress, steward of words,
my ancestress, blessed with flesh, this
bright protectress, next to death with
theft of her name, maimed by insane fanatics
grasping semi-automatics aimed at
righteous Isis,
spliced into terrorist crisis
situations, sacred name on a
radical federation, used for devastation,
appropriation of my divine mother,
brothers-in-arms killing the culture
of their own nations, of past generations, of
righteous Isis,
torn from her temple by
scorned fundamentalists,
prayers to her used to take
insurgent censuses
now when i bow to my goddess,
my empress, the powers suspect I'm a member of
rightist ISIS,
who crosses off competition
with crucifixion,
lays foundations for jurisdiction
with immolation, with detonation,
decapitation of journalists, their
murderous fists taking nations,
rightist ISIS,
whose power rests on the shoulders of dread,
men obsessed with erasing the names
of every goddess we hold close, of every man
who knows Mohammed did not preach death,
of every Buddhist, every Jew, every pagan, every Hindu,
choking the breath from those who don’t believe what they do--
rightist ISIS,
you think you own the sun but not this one,
not this pristine queen who tears the thunder from the skies,
and she will strike you down with pestilent blight
she'll smite you with a blistering light,
she'll drown you and ignite the tide,
and you will die with the second rise of
righteous Isis,
whose hand rocked the cradle of civilization,
whose shrines make the sacral heart of nations,
whose each breath gives divine illumination,
who shakes off the wasted shame
and patiently waits as we chant her names--
all ten thousand in glorification.
Oct 20, 2014
Oct 20, 2014 at 12:44 AM UTC
Laying there,
Almost asleep.
Silent, Rustling thoughts.
Reach out for my friend,
...The Heavens stamp upon my weakened chest,
My relentless, petrified trembling.
Is this my becoming?
No.
I am Stronger than This.
~
Let the beast trod his energy asunder until he trods his last.
And there I stand.
I labor these embrittled bones to rise.
I stand here.
I bleed all I have and more,
as I stare into your pestilent eyes,
and I say,
I.
Am.
Strong.
You will not take this from me,
I fear you not.
No matter how many times you crush my heart,
I will rise.
Again.
And Again.
Until the day I rise above you and I can finally...
give you my thanks.
This endless torrent of pain that pours from my heart feeds the earth within which my roots are planted.
I grow stronger with each drop.
You cannot take from me what you've never known.
But,
I forgive you...
because I am strong.
I am.
~Robert van Lingen
Dec 18, 2018
Dec 18, 2018 at 12:51 PM UTC
If you are defeated,
Fall victim to desideratum;
You should achieve. Together
We can consummate your
Greatest accomplishments as
We take account of others' deeds.
If you are lonely,
Find yourself forlorn;
You can find company in me
To be not so lonesome.
Together we will be where we belong.
If you are ill,
Stricken with disease;
We can cope with the mortal glow
of your grin as pestilent germs
Infect our infectious yearning.
If you are hungry,
Starved with empty and lack;
You should eat.
And if you are tired,
You should sleep.
Mar 20, 2013
Mar 20, 2013 at 1:01 PM UTC
In the beginning there were no words
for there was no call for words,
neither was there knowledge,
for there was nothing to know.
All was sublime wordless ignorance,
everything simply - was.
It was at this time, the time of everything,
that Utopia reigned.
All things raised themselves up to the sky
from the rich fertile soil,
from the clear waters,
and from beneath the weight of great boulders.
All things in harmony reaching towards
the brightness of a Utopian sky.
And it came to pass, that beasts
came to dwell in that land.
And the beasts became Man and
Man became the beast.
It was a great time of change.
And Man spewed forth words from his mouth
saying:
"Blessed is this land, for it hath many resources.
I will make claim to it and bring it to order."
And with these words came Knowledge.
Henceforth,
all that raised itself was cut down,
the fertile land defiled,
the clear waters made corrupt.
Great boulders were rent asunder in order to build
marble palaces and statues ornamented with
gold and silver, paying homage to Man.
Time passed,
and there came upon that land a great famine.
The fertile land became barren.
Fishes floated in the pestilent waters.
There was no more reaching towards the sky.
In Man's greed Utopia had been dethroned.
Chaos reigned in its place.
All became worthless.
And Man wrestled uneasily with his conscience
knowing he had lost Utopia forever.
copyright © Caroline Grace 2011
Dec 15, 2011
Dec 15, 2011 at 12:39 PM UTC
A gentle vision, that,
The girl who stabbed me with a stiletto-
Half lucid entangle, enforced, but not pleaded,
Such expense at the offer of a lude game conceded.
Tense hours wandering, unlaundered and restless,
to the ripe desert fruit, found snared and defenseless;
felled by the brute who enforced vanity.
The frigid and harmless might stand to agree.
Now rigid in darkness, at the face of your palm-
two islands are bridged. Awaken embalmed!
Silence, abridged like the unclaimed draw sweat
splattered in the fallout of our budding duet.
A matter, devout; raconteur be concise.
But no pestilent drawrings of a frail soul suffice.
Nov 14, 2011
Nov 14, 2011 at 3:07 AM UTC
Catapult cherry bomb metaphors
Like pestilent adolescent authenticity
No sharper then dull is the witless then before
Yet we ignore constant facts that lack congruency
Purely a jest to elements of a vicious nature shown
A lead lined carpet with no broom large enough
Hiding only chucks of self that fade to dust
Pyrex houses have shorter lives when granite flies
Dec 24, 2013
Dec 24, 2013 at 11:30 PM UTC
the craters of the moon
carve out a fiercely
illuminated face
cheekbones of
rouge and twinkling eyes
beckoning between
the rose bushes
and the purple ivy
climbing up the rooftops
to reach over gothic spirals
an undoing of night.
the red burn of craze
quickens the twitching
of a pestilent ache
within the knuckles
to crack and spill out the silence of
the world
within them
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 2:10 AM UTC
Once upon a twilight tingle, under the moonlit stars' twinkle
Such a foul fowl, 'tis only a foul owl
"What brings you here on this most auspacious night of nights?" I asked
The task it brought, I knew not, I merely cowered, as it did growl
I, with my guitar in hand, hastely jumped upon the warm sand, tipping, and tripping upon my towel,
As the Owl, with it's luminous eyes, began to tread the now seemingly still and chilled soil,
The ocean's roar slowly died down
t'was not the only sound that began to silence itself
even the pestilent winds around us fell idle to the ground
My reverberating heartbeat now the only audible sound
Fear finally finding sanctum in thoughts of logic
Think my man, think strategic, for this is what you now can do
Afright, now simple curiousity
No necessity was it, t'was a simple question i began to skew,
"what is your name, you obnoxious creature you?"
The now appearing invisible predator corraled the picture on the back of my guitar and flew, cawwing merely once calmly "Who are you?"
Feb 15, 2010
Feb 15, 2010 at 12:51 PM UTC
I do not have a picture of you
except the gray one drifting in my head
I will feebly tell the world about you
and your three walls
the grated window does allow the morning light
to shine upon the graffiti prophets’ words
a scratched and scrolled novella
on the ancient cold bricks
the indelible tales they tell
hang above the pocked porcelain pools
where the unclean
were scrubbed by the unholy
who thought them unworthy
of their sacred soil
some would scream during the rituals
not at the pain of the brush
or the eye sting of the careless lye,
their rabid cries
came from the vacant eyes
of their captors
who did not see them
in their naked splendor,
speak their forgotten names
in the dead morning air, or
even hear them,
when they cried to their gods for mercy,
to be released from their pestilent past
and to be made blind
to the servant’s silent suffering
only they could see
Dec 26, 2012
Dec 26, 2012 at 1:47 PM UTC
*O Destructive Entity!*
You Make Your Presence Felt,
By Being So Destructive,
Globally & Locally.
*O Creator Entity!*
I Feel Your Presence Everywhere,
In The Trees-The Rain & Seas,
The Calamities & Disease.
*O Insecure Entity!*
You Make The Mankind Fight,
Against Each Other & You,
Presenting Greed & Death.
*O Pestilent Entity!*
You Make Me Think,
Wonder about the concepts,
Of Life & Time.
*O Detrimental Entity!*
Sorry For Being So Skeptic,
You Or Me Could Do Nothing About,
My Mind & The Thoughts.
Dec 30, 2012
Dec 30, 2012 at 9:51 PM UTC
Irked by the stale life I am in
A bland dish seeking ample spice
The intersection of our roads was exhilarating
A new-born daredevil shall not think twice
Perilous was the color of your eyes
The way your gaze froze me in place
Flames previously nonexistent began to rise
And desires now asked to feel my embrace
Dangerous was the shade of your plump lips
When you speak, the way they curve
Electric bolts pierced through my fingertips
Then infiltrated my every vein, every nerve
Treacherous was the sound of your voice
The way curses became a pleasing melody
A single syllable balked all perturbing noise
Enticing me into your wicked sorcery
Lethal was how you skillfully kiss
The way it sets ablaze the surface it meets
My formation of thoughts have gone amiss
The settling insanity is now who greets
Murderous was your hand's every touch
The way your fingers danced on my skin
Dull-looking blades were deemed to do not much
But yours were sharp enough to slice my soul within
Pestilent was how you wrapped yourself around my body
The way your frame is fitted to mine
Tremendous waves devour me completely
And I drown, though not in brine
Deadly was how you wanted to play
The way you wanted to love me
From my ever-so-monotonous life, I have gone astray
My life is the price; I'll pay it fully
Jul 13, 2014
Jul 13, 2014 at 7:44 AM UTC
You're the condition to my malicious mission,
The vulnerable variables subject to my evil intention,
The unknowing lab rats of my malignant invention,
The objects of my intensely pestilent tension,
Stuck in your habitual greed
Stuck craving things you don't need
For this many will starve despite having plenty of seed,
In spite of your delusions of grandeur you're no more heaven worthy than an ant,
You want heaven? You want to ascend? Too bad, you can't,
So feel free to end your little chant
My message was tainted by the picture your pathetic minds painted,
You think I'm proud of what I created? Wow your egos are inflated,
little do you know you're actually hated,
and the afterlife is just the pain of existence perpetuated with all shades of happiness faded,
Slathered in sin
If there was a heaven none of you would make it in,
Your toxin will remain in your coffin with your rotting skin
Made weak and divided by barriers I provided
Dumb and broken by travesty I invited
Wrong by nature and I've ensured your inferiority won't be righted
Your happiness is permanently temporary,
Your minds are filled with false clarity and your creation wasn't the product of charity,
It was entertainment.
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 1:13 AM UTC
Awaken By no recollectionGone astrayAs I question her intentionsMaking a mockery of me As my mind becomes a blunderEnjoying the orchestra, I cannot sit wellDue to a pestilent womanNoticing a ticketOn my evening jacketHow did it get there?She murmursAs I exit to safetyShe follows and waitsOutside Running for dear lifeI fell For a split secondFinding myselfTotally wrapped in bandagesWith her presence near As she holds me With a musical ticket of misery
Nov 21, 2009
Nov 21, 2009 at 11:54 PM UTC
I walk amongst the beautiful people
hide my face within the shadows around,
with lungs of rubber and skin that's latex
they drift about our world without a sound
[so deliciously dark
twisted and vile
they grin from faces ghastly
rotting and puerile]
formerly they were perfect humans
whose selfishness strived for more,
so they re-constructed their bodies and faces
using skin harvested from the dead and poor
[bullet wounds
gunshot holes
maggots and lice thriving
between fleshy folds]
organs replaced with mechanical components
immortality sewn together with surgical stitches,
greed and jealousy bloomed inside our narrow minds
thus we began practicing the work of witches
but the stolen skin rotted upon their ancient bodies
leaving their yellowing, pestilent, bones bare -
to defy death plastic and rubber were used as replacements
but of mortality they were now forever aware
[clumpy fingers, bloodshot eyes
midnight dreams plagued with their shrieking cries]
for upon the pursuit of immortal living
we lost the people we once used to be -
now I flee their hungry gazes and grabbing fingers
living only with empty shadows for bittersweet company.
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 6:24 PM UTC
I will not refrain from making this personal
You have dwelled in me long enough
To force my hand
This hand, that now, won’t stop shaking
Because of you
Scribbling ink upon paper-
Smudged with sweat from my brow
Inside
The fires of your hell,
Outside
The tundra of your stare,
Rattle my brain
And from me you drain
My strength and my patience
I retain only adamancy
To rival your vexation
You, who have crippled me so
I pray you know, how much I loathe
Your pestilent touch
But I beg you still,
To keep my hands,
To keep my head,
To leave me this much.
May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 2:45 PM UTC
I follow poppy flowers down avenues gray and pestilent.
I pass the radiant windows of Avalon while crows perch the ticket stands.
Sidewalk lifeless as frowning clowns droop on their way to another wake.
Fluorescent signs hang from concord wires.
I tire of the tired,
I drain from the drained.
I am the modern death.
School children are made from the same cosmic juice blend as me.
They are the modern death.
Politicians wear my infamous black garb.
The modern death is them, just as well.
Senegal actresses patter on their patchwork paste texture makeup and rose circles, hiding tears illuminated with the truth of tragedy.
There is no doubt they are the modern death.
Faerie potpourri in desolate East Hastings and clairvoyant row enticed by false visions of hallucinated men crouched beneath rotten cement canopies while locusts click and clatter midst their sorrow.
They are buzzing incantations of the modern death.
Tibet is falling hold to corruption while the boyish monks calm in their meditations, are interrupted by agony wept Bhikkus bent in ****** transgressions, even Buddha is the modern death!
China is a communist factory housing too many chimneys clogged with silent sufferings.
Communities hiding in thin dust masks bearing the insignia of the modern death, only seen underneath ultraviolet light.
My role has been diminished in recent generations, I'm growing old and flogged with decay,
same as you, modern death.
We're here for a final round of drinks
cool on our chasm lungs breathing big bang radiation for many years
while the batteries in our clocks begin to fail us and the Hospital calls occur in succession once we get too sick to see the harsh planet we'll all have the privilege of dying in.
I'm the modern death watching pale static reruns of the nature channel in a finely decorated room in some death camp retirement home
waiting on the last day, inevitable.
There's no place here for the modern death,
not anymore.
This is what the poets were talking about!
all the bodies are already skeletons.
Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 3:23 AM UTC
The skilled user of words, the wizard conjurer that provoke your thoughts.
I ought to be sentenced to death.
For an enlightened mind such as mine for the crime of influencing young minds
You see the Government hate visionaries like me, so they call the disciplinary, to disrupt revolutionaries, COINTELPRO, look them up if you don’t know, for all you conspiracy theorist, I am the head of realist **** shot calling
You might as well call me Shon the abolitionist.
When it comes to such a wicked being such as me, they call to question my thought for knowledge and I tell them
As the practitioner of hard knocks, my quest for power is almost pestilent; people say knowledge is power
But what they don’t tell you, is power comes from applying the knowledge
To acknowledge the most dangerous man in the room isn’t the man with the gun nor the thirst for power
But the man in the shrouded darkness waiting to pounce, call me Rockefeller and Rothschild.
I am almost out of time but please forgive me, my mind sits in an higher dimension
My mentality is overpriced that’s why the naïve mind is as common as head lice
As I am the sole provider to the zeitgeist.
Jun 29, 2019
Jun 29, 2019 at 2:28 PM UTC
I see a ransacked carcass
It’s not bleeding or writhing, it doesn’t even disintegrate
It lies
And lies while standing
Allowing itself to be ****** into the dullest void
It’s own life.
There is nothing more pathetic then a blind visionary
With a compass and a map
dumb and pestilent its eyes roll into its head and stare at the GRAY ******* MATTER inside
The mountain is in front of it
but it will never see the view
darkness sets in but it’s morning.
No ones sees the death.
No one rolls their eyes back around.
They all die alone in a forest full of people.
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 1:56 PM UTC