"raged" poems
There were some Mountains.
Storms raged.
Stone split.
Time wore on.
And there great heights,
were reduced to tiny Grains.
Millions of tiny Grains.
Heat and air.
And then Glass.
So much beauty.
From such beauty as before it.
And in reflection of the beauty it is gifted to.
You.
Jun 8, 2014
Jun 8, 2014 at 9:31 PM UTC
What luxury to get mad
about last night's basketball loss
and watch the full moon descending
at the speed the earth turns.
Things could get worse
personally and for the community.
Bombings, killings, anomie
boiling frogs and witches cursing.
The changing climate,
typhoons in the Philippines,
volcanoes and tsunamis, WWII which I missed,
Thanksgiving nor'easter, Easter twister.
What abundance to fast or feast,
your choice, stay inside by the stove
or go outside, climb the mountainside.
Live in a city or small town.
So I raged at the coaches
for their lazy zone defense
like an alien in the bleachers
unable to affect the outcome.
When my sons came home
I yelled at them too. What opulence
to be angry about nothing of consequence
neither stopped by the cops nor slipped on the ice.
Nov 7, 2017
Nov 7, 2017 at 6:13 AM UTC
when i was a boy,
i collected seashells.
i had the most beautiful collection
when i was a boy.
i dreamt of seashells
and what i dreamt was beside
me every morning of everday
when i was a boy.
i had red ones and blue ones
white ones and rounds ones
ones of beauty and of majesty
when i was a boy.
the world marvelled at my collection
the world coveted my collection
i had the most beautiful seashell collection
when i was a boy.
one day i looked out through a window
and saw a boy walking along the beach
he picked up the plainest of seashells
and smiled
i raged and raged and raged
for forty days and forty nights
i raged
when i was a boy.
Jun 19, 2010
Jun 19, 2010 at 6:41 PM UTC
i have sunk into a slow numbness,
perhaps because something broke over me
the second i saw you again.
i realized,
it's better to be in full-blown sorrow
than in a fragile happiness,
forever staving off the blackness.
but instead, i have sunk into a slow numbness.
perhaps because you look away from me now
the exact same way that i look away from you.
your aversion gives me numbness.
don't you see it?
that's all this ever was. a fear of the numbness. a fear of the pain.
your indifference gives me numbness
because who wants to feel it
when the ripping apart begins.
i have smoked to numbness.
i have cried to numbness.
i have raged to numbness.
i have laughed to numbness.
i have embraced the numbness.
i have dug myself into numbness
but you gave me the shovel.
you gave me the numbness.
and i feel absolutely fine. i feel nothing at all.
Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 6:08 PM UTC
Lost Love
He remembers that day
many sad years ago
it was sunny out,
but soon a storm raged.
He returned home early
from work,
eager
to rest and nurse a cold.
Eager
to see his gorgeous wife
fix him a delicious soup
and give loving care,
a remedy not.
He caught a surprise.
Was it then a hallucination?
To see her ex's car
in front of their house,
fanning the flames in his heart?
Or to imagine the house shaking,
or to hear love noises howling
from the rafters of contempt,
as her fireplace warmed tempest.
He sure hoped then... it had been a misfire
it wasn't.
He slowly opened the front door,
walking decrepit and sad,
like he was in hospice care.
He could see the final script
playing out,
more so the tragic ending
the trail of clothes,
her ex-boyfriend's scent,
calamity,
and approaching closer
the devil speaking louder.
He opened the bedroom door
to their parts caught in honey jars
and scarlet red on his tainted wife
over bed sheets of shame.
Their eyes catch,
both flush, and tearful,
as breathing stopped,
his melancholy eyes asking why?
Why?
What about the future lily pods,
our family, house, kids
... and you sell out.
What about being fresh
out of college with our dreams,
passion and honor...us.
What about the bonds,
pinky swears, pricking of blood
marital vows.
Her eyes had no answers.
She cried, loudest
as her ex-boyfriend bolted
not before passing the mill.
He closed her door for good
that mournful day,
dismissing darkness,
opening his wrath for her
in his mind, yet
what words or light can be exchanged?
Uprooted and lost, he walked
scarred over and over
by her promise and lost love.
That was thirty years ago
and he still walks with her
ghosts, and it still pains.
LR-5/4/17
May 4, 2017
May 4, 2017 at 11:31 PM UTC
My little deer
Is that you
peeking between the trees
peering at the stag
but your heart's
still not at ease
... time ago
a short time
a stray cupid's arrow
shot the night air
splitting your spirit in two
frightened you took off
from the foreboding
hiding in a lea
there was sun
and cloudless skies
but not really
as your insides
raged
in a storm
in a hourglass
with sand pebbles fighting
to heal
for the best
now as you peer
between the trees
of salvation
do you hear
birds singing near a brook
... songs sung
so beautiful
in concerto
with the chipmunks, ***** crickets
then, as you take
that step forward
so lion hearted
peering
between those
branches
of redemption
my little deer
are there rays
of sunshine
peeking back
LR-4/23/17
Apr 23, 2017
Apr 23, 2017 at 11:46 AM UTC
You were my sunshine,
even as the storm raged on.
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 9:41 PM UTC
I hear the carve of oars,
I see your palms enfold the wood,
as shards of stars shred
a black and glistening wave.
I hear the carve of oars,
the shore is breached,
we reach dank granite stairs, climb
a tower in moon gritty light.
I hear the carve of oars,
you speak, your turgid cheek
blue-steel-gray, your gaze grates,
my salt raged eyes summon waves and stars.
I hear the carve of oars,
waves rattle a candle's flame,
chill the bed frame, the wet stony room ––
the door closes, it scrapes.
I hear the carve of oars.
I know your lurching gate,
the clank as oar lock’s turn.
You slip the shore.
I hear the carve of oars
Copyright © 2002 Gary Brocks
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 8:47 PM UTC
He fought, he raged through that dark, dark, night.
They fled before his fiury, his crimsom rage,
He searched ad searched, to find who made him feel, like he was in a cage.
He walked back amd forth, yet found not him,
Then he finaly realized, on that cold, bitter night, that the Enemy was not outside, but inside.
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 10:52 PM UTC
I am thankful for the mountains
I am thankful for the music that comes from the mountains
I am thankful for every fire that is lit by nothing more than the embers of a fire that raged before it
Only these fires can truly comprehend what it is like to suffer and be born again
I am thankful for the knowledge that every human being has in them a true spark
Only some don't care or are too busy
Or let their dreams be squashed or didn't have the fuel to burn in the first place
I am thankful for the holy beat poets
Kerouac and Ginsberg
I am thankful for the poet saints
Rimbaud and Lorca
And I am thankful for my saints of folk music
Bob Dylan and Woody Guthrie shaped me long before any of this
But all in all I am thankful for the holy ghost of Carl Sandburg
Without him I would not be writing this poem or any
I am thankful that these poems allow me to say what I need to
I don't expect my words to be recited at weddings or funerals
But I don't mind because both atmospheres depress me just the same
I am thankful for every trail I have walked
I am thankful for every breath of Rocky or Appalachian air ever to enter my tragic lungs
I am thankful for the bonfires I have lit
I am thankful for the sticks that snap in my hands and leave scrapes that bleed only enough to remind me that I'm alive
I do not need such reminders but it's always a nice thing to have
I am thankful for every lost love
Whether I disappointed them or ****** them off is no matter
All that matters is that there is humility
I am thankful for the fact that these lost loves are leading
Completely happy lives with or without me
Knowing someone's happiness is dependent on me is a responsibility I cannot bear
I am thankful for this typewriter
It was my grandfather's when he was my age
He passed away two years ago on the week of Thanksgiving
He was born that week too
And it isn't pilgrims or stuffing that help me to feel thankful
It's the people like him
Nov 29, 2015
Nov 29, 2015 at 2:19 AM UTC
I have watched you suffer
While the battle raged on
Though i nearly died
For once i was never alone
You did not desert me
My brothers in arms
There are so many different worlds
And in all may we triumph
As we did once before
Let our blood
Water the trees of liberty
May the moon howl our names
Across mountains and seas
Let our tales be told
By the children unborn
It's a life we have to live
Until we no more do
It hurts us badly though
Everyone has to die
Now i bid you farewell
My brothers in arms
As we journey into the life
Beyond and after
May we stand together
Forever as brothers in arms
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 12:44 PM UTC
I wish I believe it when people say they'll never leave,
But I still taste the salty tears of the goodbye note you wrote,
The lullabies of heartfelt cries,
An those times I was to good at say goodbye,
Behind my pain-filled eyes,
I see a girl I use to recognize,
A healing heart,
On a open battlefield,
A little girl trying to believe the bedtime story she told,
But being told by her soul the real world,
One where princess have to wait for there Prince Charming,
One where the frog kisses the wrong princess,
One where the fairy godmother is to late,
And one where she broke her shoe,
her carriage has become a cage,
When her hair as faded from every page turn,
The war that has been raged inside her,
Because she afraid to believe in one day,
She afraid to believe the nevers and the forevers,
Because she seen everyday turn to parades of the same fake forces daze,
To never forget that life to short to trust salt,
That was confused for sugar,
That being nice with only take you so far,
And that one day,
You wake up feeling the same,
You'll flap our wings one more time,
And sing your fairytale song,
And your true love will sing along,
You’ll remember what it like to dream,
And believe it could be a happily ever after,
And wake up in a world,
Of your own,
And those goodbyes,
Will turn to mournful cries from forgotten peoples eyes,
Because just than they will realize,
There boring lives,
As she thrives,
She survives,
And now truly now,
She good at goodbyes,
And hardly recognized,
For the rest of her life
Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 12:35 AM UTC
Battles raged on for
the cold, iron throne.
Kings were slaughtered
of origins, unknown.
Misery and death,
that’s what it bred.
That throne, so cold,
to destruction, it led.
Rebels had risen
to claim the throne
whose kingdom from hatred
had slowly grown.
The hunger for power,
the thirst to rule.
The throne turned
the wisest, into a fool.
The land was soaked
with blood that was shed.
That throne, so cold,
to destruction, it led.
In a kingdom built of hate,
with pillars of lies,
stands the cold, iron throne
as it’s glorious prize.
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 6:08 AM UTC
Swept in on the sixth of the first
Icy winds sluiced on dripping fleecy snow showers
I saw a raging storm coming with vile foreboding nursed
Staple in peace in love in goodwill laid a fitting banquet for all hours
Rewards for toil and strive in minds attuned and goodness versed
I knelt supplicant before my Lord
Laid my just heart bare and without fear or dread
laid a ringing vow as in warmth or bellowing thundering cold
I rest in the forethought I am girded to sail sun's flames un thread
For no blooded being can justly state I harmed or injured in my fold
I will walk this vale of tears
Meet with demons and the ****** of the outer worlds
Face the volcanoes in hell and shame blazing red lava ingots
I will not cower before deadly serpents or baulk at icy frozen walls
If I fall I will stand again an again till God's time uneaten by maggots
I implored my Faithful Lord
Take me down grind and cast me asunder and bereft
If this be ordained that an innocent soul pays an unjust price
The darkest storm has raged wild and furious a depraved joy theft
My God upholds me and holds that truths and honesty never a vice
[email protected].
Sep 30, 2018
Sep 30, 2018 at 5:34 PM UTC
Loudly it sounded,
The horns message clear,
The gods had been warned,
The giants were near.
From Jotunheim to Midgard
To Asgard they came,
Their intent was clear,
Their purpose the same.
Loudly they shouted,
They yelled, and they raged,
The gods and the giants
Were battle engaged.
Thor with his hammer
and Vidar with shoe,
One would think battle
Was all that they knew.
Tyr with one hand
And Frey with no sword,
They should have stayed back,
But of their own accord
Into battle they leapt,
Into battle they ran,
Against the giants
To make their stand.
The moon and the sun,
Luna and Sol,
Went into the bellies
of Hati and Skoll.
Tidal waves crashed
all over the world,
Out of the oceans came
The serpent of Midgard.
Thor ran at the beast,
The great Fenrir Wolf,
But he was soon
In snakes coils engulfed.
Thor pounded away,
He hammered the snake,
But he did no damage,
No dent did he make.
The great Fenrir Wolf
Rushed at Odin,
The god stabbed with his spear,
But the great wolf did win.
Vidar rushed at the beast
With his big heavy shoe,
Kicked in the jaw,
The Fenrir Wolf flew
Away from the battle,
away from the fray,
In the depths of space
The Fenrir Wolf stays.
The gods and the giants,
The battle they fought,
And in the end
it was all for naught.
They destroyed each other,
Each and every one,
And out of the darkness
Came a new sun.
In the sun’s warmth,
A great green was spread,
The great land had died,
And was back from the dead.
Two gods were left,
The young sons of Thor,
They were spared because
they were good and pure.
The gods met with two humans
Who had lived through the strife,
And together they planned
a new and better life.
And for this reason,
The Norse people say,
The gods stay in Asgard
To this very day.
But if in the future
The giants attack,
The gods will come to Midgard,
And they will attack.
Aug 30, 2012
Aug 30, 2012 at 11:50 AM UTC
My heathen greeting for I am old now
Wildfowl whispered on marshland like maidens around burning fires,
The Norse winds breathing in my soul ‘Odin doth call’
Blood is the sweat of this iron sword; proud are war smiths
I watch the coal biter musing in blood damp earth,
Before a fire and smoke of tallow he dreams of war
Fill these horns to brim, for I shall drink to Odin’s law
And eat I this meal of bread oyster and mussel shell
I see heavens stained blood red clouds as we cross the rainbow crystal bridge, we shall enter Valhalla victorious once more,
Lo shall they bleed at shores blooded by iron the Saxons fall,
Raged fires shall consume their roof as thunder of north comes forth
You call us ****** that which pierces dark shadows,
We blow our horn in assembly before Odin warriors of the north
Settings suns shone red as quiet falls, serene I see Valhalla
the goat and mead hall, roasting beef and herring
I no longer fear drowning suns for the Valkyries sweet song I do hear
Freyja shall breathe my new reign at dawn
The old wars are over but our fight shall ne’er end,
─ Lo I see my father
ASPAR (Arnay Rumens) © 2013
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 7:40 AM UTC
And their hearts were pure diamond
For they would always be
Tolerant,
Noble,
Sympathetic
To the needs of those around,
But they were susceptible
To the weakness of those
That were
Fragile
Flesh
Human
Emotion would taint the pure,
What was once solid changed
With each transgression
The heart changed
Ruby
Raged upon those around
Uncontrollable cracks did show
Emerald
Eyes ignited by the wanting of others
Love, belongings, tainted colours showed.
Amber
They could not take the emotion
Confusion
Frustration
Depression
Was the end of many, on to the
"Shards of tears"
Would many then fall
Torn to pebbles, now resting beneath
They were once pure heart
Diamond,
"Shone through"
But once the seed planted it grew,
"Then the inevitable"
The sins turned a heart to stone
Frozen with emotion,
Erased just cold rock now stood
A frozen moment,
Life,
Stillness,
Corruption
Had taken another ancient
For one day all would be but rock,
Those that helped the beginnings of a species
Now all is corrupted by the taint that is man..
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 7:29 PM UTC
She was a raging inferno,
Touch her and perish,
A roaring inferno,
Burns your soul to ashes.
As she raged against the dying light,
Crazy, I craved only for her,
Praying she would go gentle in the night,
My eyes blazed for her like a meteor.
Within me, her anger raised sensual emotions,
With my gentle love, I desired to tame her,
That was my firm resolution,
And one day,on her lava soil would bloom our little flower.
Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 6:10 AM UTC
The raged little blue eyed girl had so many years
from her past she has cried many tears
sitting on a bench with her dog Spot at her side
hair not comb wearing cuffed up hole's in my farmer jeans
Mother yelling, hold still for the picture or you know what I mean.
I sat very still with Spot at my side
knowing she was not happy nor satisfied
Please Mamma, why can't I have a pretty dress?
and look like a little girl like all the rest
I jumped off the bench with Spot at my side
The picture wasn't taken and again unjustified
I was punished and locked in the shed
Spot was laying out side the door
we were both looking through the crack in the floor
I could see him he could see me,
Felt like I was lock there for eternity,
If Spot was only human he could set me free
I'm locked up like a animal and he could be me
Laying cold on the old wooden floor,
Spot don't leave me, don't leave me no more
When I get older I'm going to run away some day
Take spot and find a home far away
Oct 26, 2013
Oct 26, 2013 at 10:50 AM UTC
You told me I was beautiful,
A cigarette between your teeth.
I raged at the careless gesture,
You laughed and smiled.
The first meeting,
A beautiful metaphor.
A first kiss,
A shared wish,
And the silent love.
A beautiful metaphor.
Happily Ever After came crashing down,
Our demise up in lights,
You held on 'til the bitter end,
A flickering candle in the dead of night.
A beautiful metaphor.
You'll live forever in me.
Augustus and Hazel,
Okay? Okay.
A beautiful metaphor.
Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 11:18 PM UTC
Fervour tapered lingering
On that ******* precipice
Of alleged possibility
Devoured by the jaws of silence
The soul no longer raged
A nothingness that knew no words
Agony’s cold grip
Winter in December
I knew not what to with these hands
Their weightlessness
Weeping willows drowned out sound
Perfected in my dead
Loosening the grapple on the promise
Of a hazy tomorrow.
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 11:52 AM UTC
The same song looping over and over…
The same suicidal thoughts torturing my sanity…
Repeats accruing on infinite piles of ruble,
Vigorously fighting these thoughts,
These demons of mentality,
A constant cartwheel of emotion…
Always racing…
Not ceasing for a mere second…
Forcing the pill in my mouth,
And then another,
And another…
The only mental painkiller is death…
I feel numb,
Darkness seeps into my vision…
Blurring reality…
The Pain is going away…
I feel alive as I feel myself die…
Emergency Medical Squads break the door down…
I sit there,
Watching them cycle electricity into my body as I blindly stare,
Eyes not moving,
Weak,
You never came.
I want to tell you I love you until it becomes white noise…
Always knowing I love you,
Never doubting yourself again…
I want to make love until we are one…
My body and yours…
Sharing the night, and day…
Filling senses with pleasure and love…
I want to hold you until you are weightless…
A feather in my arms…
Carry you up to a safe place on a dark night…
I want to love you forever…
I want to love you till stone itself evaporates into the air as it boils underneath the red giant sun…
I want to love you when the Universe rebirths or collapses…
I want to love you when the bell tolls,
The bell does not mark the end,
It will never end,
I will love you always,
Forever,
Not stopping even for a supernova…
No matter how lovely, how vivid, how colorful the painting…
Toxic fumes are given off,
The closer you look the more cracks and flaws you’ll find…
No matter how soft the wood, how elaborate the carving,
You can’t even begin to feel all the splinters…
All the cuts,
The closer you get the deeper the grooves…
This rusty drain has grown clogged of emotion and dust…
Wonderful you say…
But that is just for now,
Today.
My past is dark, dead, rotten,
Who knows if the future will be any different.
Today I have a moment of peace,
You,
A bright blue gem shining in the darkness,
So pure it becomes it’s own light-source,
Echoing beauty throughout the blackness,
Illuminating me,
True Commitment,
Warm and sweet Love,
Unquestionable Trust,
Seraphic Beauty,
Everything I need…
I sit here questioning these words…
Thinking of the purest way to put them,
But emotion is not pure,
It’s ***** rough, and raged,
But when I talk to you that emotion turns into something different,
It turns into satisfying warmth that runs through my body…
The past evaporates into the air,
Dispersing and losing its importance,
You are my future,
Not the past.
Dec 29, 2011
Dec 29, 2011 at 2:03 PM UTC
She was both terrifying and beautiful,
A dream and a nightmare.
Music fell from her lips and
Magic came from her fingers.
When she screamed,
The skies shattered and the ocean raged.
And when she sang,
The sea joined her song and
The universe smiled.
For she was their daughter and she was a
Terrible beauty.
Mar 19, 2016
Mar 19, 2016 at 5:51 PM UTC
I used to fear what I could be some day
How I was always locking emotions away
My world view turning darker than gray
Yet, while my heart was encaged
My soul was enraged
Revolted by the world I seen
My spirit raged, fierce and mean
Deserving of judgement, we the unclean
I took everything I had not to Intervene
Oct 5, 2021
Oct 5, 2021 at 2:40 AM UTC