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Robert Guerrero Nov 2012
The homeless,
The weak,
The poor,
The sick,
The dying,
The old,
The wise,
The young,
The stupid,
The rageful,
The pained,
The distraught,
The broken,
The suicidal,
The empty,
This is for you all
A toast
Another shot of whiskey
Another hit of ****
Just because we survived
SALUD!!!
Mahesh Hegde Jan 2014
The Hour Glass represents us. Confused how.. Let me elaborate it to you.
You do see the sand that is seeping slowly off the orifice between the two bowls..
That sand shows the flow of love from ur heart to mine. But wen the flow stops. U just have to revert the glass and u vl see that Ur love is not just taken in, it is adored, processed, felt. Its warmth and the care that is hidden in it is scrutinized. And then it flows back into u.
This is the way we are. Due to this our love always wins from our fights.
U widout any selfishness and greed give me all that u ve got inside u, planting banyan trees of love to make it live for years.
And here, Its me, trying to provide the carbon dioxide and water for helping the tree to grow and feel the fresh oxygen, extracting each amount and inhaling it wid full greed. This greed, Which Comes like a reflex only fr u, is not a devil's one but a Loving one. How can it be possible to share u wid anyone else in the whole world. I cant help it. I cant share u. And I am proud of being greedy fr u.

This sand which keeps on seeping consists of all memories stored in it about us.
All of them, Staring wild eyes with the rays of Innocent Infatuation, Then the seed of frndship that we planted (Actually u planted), And then My extravagant feelings converting that seed of frndship directly into a plant of love, Then the rains and the hot sun that the plant faced between these paceful yrs we were together, Then the Era of wisdom that attacked me and made me construct a good shelter to protect this plant from heavy rains and hot burning rays of rageful sun..
All these memories. That we lived together. Which we now remember and smile, sometyms cry and sometyms even laugh after crying. And I promise to give u more, good, to be confident, fresh and best memories in this lyf ahead so that while taking our last breath these wud give u the best smile u ever had in ur lyf.
And if this hourglass, ever, accidently or unfortunately breaks, dont be sad. cuz these memories are stored in every pinch of the sand it contains not the outer body that consists it.
Love You
Max Neumann Jun 2021
back in the days, tales from lauderdale...

yakuzzi gang from oakland park, 308
nightly waves flowin' thru brain channels
the traitor of my memories will judge me
no other day, 38ers, toni der assi, stoogie

two existences, eager brothers at arms
shake em the shake, rip and run, zippas
platin zippos, trip-apache, brave bear
the tents of the past remain as debris

as long as doom's grace feeds us lust
struggle on, lights out, turn me on, baby
shivering is the silver sun at dusk here
and gangsta poets speedin' thru alleys

fat **** frank oversees all oceans, inc.
friends at the thames, partners in crime
the green shining, ultra fresh scent, yeah
bodegas are useful for distribution

nevah, tho', enter these places at night
brooklyn heights, floor 64, 65 & 66 locked
merciless fred, sumptuous leather jacket
cuban necklace jeezy boostah, spiderman

dead blueline pitbulls, ****** cages,
rageful is the age of ours, my friends
sunday's dawn opposes my design
in the corner of my room, hidden
*** GANGSTAPOETRY ***  
        *** 48 SOULS ***
    ***  CREATION 96  ***
Sjr1000 Jan 2018
I taste death
in every food I eat
I see beauty
in every face I meet

It all once lived
before it died
One day maybe
nothing will need to die
for mankind to survive

I see beauty
in the face of every  person I meet

The public world
of shopping malls
Supermarkets
Working's pall

Inside while primitive
fantasies
still reside
Rageful tides
Spiderwebs blowing down hillsides

Carrying  on a private conversation
in a public gathering
"a little privy please"
There are no walls
in the outhouse
The outhouse is lined
with mirrors and windows

The rules are the rules
even for desire
tho sometimes we all do
a mashpit at the opera

Everything has a taste
Internal
External
make a mistake
it's back to the wild
Food for fodder
fodder for thought

Still seeing beauty
in every face I meet
Tasting death
in every food I eat

Makes water in
the desert
so so sweet.
Grace Feb 2021
The destructive daughter
and the delicate one.

The blunt daughter,
and the passive one.

The rageful daughter
and the sad one.

The out burst daughter
and the collapse-in-on-itself one.

The always apologizing daughter
and the always receiving them one.

The destructive daughter
and the delicate one.
destructive - me
delicate - her

she is the moon and I the sun. And every month I leave her and run. That is why she becomes the new moon.
Lyrical Dream Apr 2023
As I speak these words, may the dead borrow my tongue and tell their stories from the grave. I no longer lust to lie by them. I want to live and live loudly— let my voice linger as I leave, if not from my tired throat, than from the ink of my pen. I may be rotting but my words are immortal.

I am alive.

If the sun can shine so shamelessly, then so should I. And I, as she, shan’t somber to save your eye.

I am blinding.

A rose, draped in her dainty dress, can make a man bleed— thorns sharp beneath her scarlet skirt tail, his fingertips dripping to match it.

I am brutal.

I have seen the sea swallow strangers whole—suffocate them beneath her shimmering surface. She roars. She rages. She’s rough. And if she can reap her revenge with her gentle waters rippling with sapphire; if she can balance anger and allure, then so can I. Her grace is violent—her beauty fatal.

I am soft, but I am rageful. I am calm, but I burn with hellfire beneath my skin. I am silent, but my throat is raw—my voice tearing it red, ripping its way to freedom.
Lyrical Dream Dec 2023
I never felt loved. I remind myself it’s not because I wasn’t lovable, but because I was made to hate everyone who loved me and loathe everything I’ve ever loved. You had to purge me of love to assure you were its only source.

I looked for love in a golden page— learned quickly what it was to feel imprisoned by flesh-– learned quickly I’m meant to feel so tightly wound it’s as if  barbed wire snakes  my skin. I’ve yet to come undone. The serpent is starved for its prey and I let it swallow me whole.
I know I was born to listen— born to obey. The word “yes” was burned on my tongue from the moment I could speak it, recited like a scripture, scorched into my subconscious by a “saint’s” shallow sermon.

Love was never patient, nor was she kind. Love struck without warning. She consumed me whole as the serpent does and spit me out when she was full. To this day, I starve.

Love was pompous. I was nothing but she was the world. No pride of God could measure to that of the saint who loved me.

Love dishonored me with every slice from her tongue. Love was selfish. Love was rageful. She shattered with the lightest touch. She was wicked— a liar. She claimed to keep me safe but my fear of hell was nothing compared to my fear of her. I was the only thing love hated more than herself.

Love recited my wrongs more than my name.

Love says I’m a liar. She says I am cursed like her. Deep down, I think it’s true. Love was fruit grown from a poison vine. Deep down I know there’s cancer at my roots. Deep down I know I rot.

Love only wants me when I’m small. When I’m afraid. When I’m alone. When I’m malleable. Love loves me when she is the only thing I have to love.

The love I know is violent. She is brutal and unforgiving. Love killed me with her first touch.
Hermes Varini Jul 2020
Once across a Caledonia dreary, whose Echo,
Amid the Jötnar, was MAN, I wandered hurt and weary,
Until yon Glare, with deadly Rage flaming,
Lo! I beheld, next to the Iron Gates
Of a long-forgotten Ruin named still
After incorruptible Titanium.

A noble, finely engraved feudal Vest,
Under a Luminary invisible, implacable,
Shone thither with a Glare fiercer, methought,
Than that of the rubies at warlike Valhalla,
Amid Walls time-eaten, kingly Banners, and proud Towers,
And dwelt there in melting Titanium.

Deep memories of martial Woe
Like an arrow piercing my *****, and aimed
Thro' the Night with lethal Glare,
No barrier was there to be found
Between my Past yielding and this conquering Robe
With Runes marked deep in Titanium.

Thus I remembered having once graved,
In revered silence and solitary anger,
Into the Glare, within the Hills, upon the Dust,
The Emblem of the OVERMAN,
Which thou may again now see gleaming,
With pride Superhuman, o'er this garb of Titanium.

My Enemy Wraith haunting me no more,
Into a most profane dying hour,
I walked forth, to wear of the Armour of the Glare the worth,
And felt, intensely, from the Zenith of a most fiery Heaven,
The Rays from the Stars imbuing my Very Gore
With blinding, rageful Titanium.

Hereupon, with Cuirass thus worn, I bethought me of boldly ascending,
With heavy Claymore drawn, in a Guard of the Hawk,
At Ultima Thule, of the Bluish Glare, the Hidden Rock,
And at its scorching Crest, with Blade o'er me flashing, widened my gathering Breast,
The Largest Mirror, the Highest Beacon, aye,
Before the wild Blaze molten down in Titanium.
Of this narrative-philosophical poem of mine, as focusing on the dichotomy between man and the antithetical Overman, a semiotic variant exists. The narrator meets at length with a surpassing mirroring force.
ryann Aug 2014
How could one not crave
the kind of truth that makes
trust skip a beat
and fall
amidst wisteria storms
when the rageful season
swarms
and sneers, shamelessly
infesting the senses?
g Nov 2013
Your arms gave my demons a home since the afternoon of February 16th, and I knew your ocean eyes could drown them and free me from their grasp. Who knew those eyes would drown me entirely?

But eventually I could feel the darkness bite at the wires in your brain. They rearranged every night and I think you forgot who I was, because once August 24th rolled around, we had confused love and lust as we rolled around in between sheets, and that was the start of months of confusion.

You had changed the codes on every alarm starting September 13th, (or had our distance made me forget?)

By November 24th, I had lost the key and the spare was no longer under the mat. I still wonder how many had forgotten to wipe their feet while I was gone, so I gave up on praying that Venus would save us.

December 13th, my suspicions of your unscared touch every morning had been confirmed. I remember you begging for one more lustful grasp, and I wish I had said no, because when you told me you didn't love me I could barely stop my rageful fits on the bathroom rug.

Your walls came crumbiling down the following February 10th, when you begged me to come back home. But I knew your chest cavity was no longer warm and I felt no safety in the way you looked at me.

I loved you so much, but the calender is my only friend and this calender never lied, but you always will.
Lappel du vide Jan 2014
ma vie a vivre.*
scream it into the empty night
with your roaring voice
clawing at your throat
ma vie a vivre.
yell it loud into the
black abyss
with the silent sounds of white
noise as a backdrop;
crickets,
4 a.m. freeway trucks,
your feet pattering, slashing the pavement.
ma vie a vivre.
yell it when you're drunk
with lips that taste like
spirits
summer
and orange cream popsicles,
whisper it in the roiling
and plotting storms,
bags under eyes hanging heavy with rain.
ma vie a vivre.
say it softly with
moist lips,
into the ears of a
boy with
hands like the husks of coconuts.
ma vie a vivre.
say it in a hushed
strangled
voice
at a mothers twisted face,
in the air that echoes with a
rageful slap.
ma vie a vivre.

this is my life to live.
AE Sep 2023
This language, everblooming
It has so easily poisoned us
But you dust off those empty phrases
Washing stains out of rageful exchanges
This white flag is half in your hand
And half in mine
A haphazard grocery list
Stopped at tomatoes
Continued as a list of those “we would never go there" words
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry,
Written like punctuation in the spills
Now I'm picking up dinner plates off the walls
So many weapons were thrown and old secrets hashed
A mess left with us drowning in the aftermath
I think the salad is now dressed in curses and ill wishes
But despite all that
I think it's your silence that will **** me
Hermes Varini Feb 2022
ÆFRE SWĀ DÆGES, ĪSERNUM-BORDHREÓÐUM
GRYRELÉOÐ OND HLÉOÞCWIDE SWĀ! 
FÉÐEWÍGUM SĒ EFTCYME! SWĀ SĒ WIELM BLŌD!

Thae Verra Wordis o' Battle Auld! an' Verra Prelude War-Hye o' mine! 
Tae ye a' ageyne tell Ah! afor yondir Forgotten Myrk Whunstane!
Fore cannae ye a' see? frae ma Verra Vision, Thais Immortal Battle-Landis, 
Fore let mee Thais War-Sange, ne'er tae e'er, wi'in Anie Quiet Loch, wane!
Nowe ageyne, weall! thro' Hye-Boilin' Steel-Bluid Eternal Ȝell:

Cauld an' Feudal Battle-Yeir, Sacral o' mine A.D. MXVII hynne! 
Let mee weall, weall! stick-an-stowe intae Thais Deep Past Bluid-Fyre, 
O'er Thais Hoat Airn, ma Guid Auld Swaird Feathfull! 
Ays a Distinct War-Vision Ah nowe stylle see! unco radiatin', 
Dogydder wae Thad Bygane Shower o' Arrows nowe ay War-Invisible:

MĪN HEAÐUWÆD!

An' afore Thae Hye Lowes! ma Stane-Hearth, nowe hynne remember, 
Fore ageyne! ay maun nowe Thais Bluid-Vision o' mine tallid unco Ah! 
Ays Supreme Fyre-Wylle! o'er an' 'yont th' Cauld Lang Hame, 
Meanie Feudal Towmonts ago, hynne, wae ma Airn-Wame, 
An' th' War-Mask o'er ma Swaird-Cut Cheek Bane
Unco haiwin', a Feudal Rebel an' Wulde Brooch-Wearer, Ah!

DOLHWUND OND BORDRANDE, 
EFT WLWULF SWIÞE WÆS IC!

Intae CARHAM'S BATTLE MAYHEM AULD! an' th' Scyld-Horror
Ne'er, IT! thro' th' Murky Moorlan Nicht tae unco wane! 
Wae ITS Open Jaws, an' Het Braith, an' Whyte Teeth Dazzlin', 
Thro' Thoosan Cries Norland an' Clashes Micht hynne! 
Frae Thoosan Battle-Scheldes unco Wooden-Colorful Thay A'!

BORDWUDA MĪN HRÍÐ,

Across yondir Scyld-Wauch found masell hynne Ah! 
Verra, Verra Guid Vision! Verra, Verra Guid Wunner!

NORÐÞUNRES SCIELDWEALL,

An' th' Steel-Spirit, verra Gleamin' IT unco haiwin'
Thad deep thro' ma Battle-Veins in Deep Moorlan Gore, 
Yondir! o'er Thae Blacklyn Hylles, wae ma Guid Claymore-Lore:

LĪEĠÞRACUM NÆGLING!

Ays a Storne Micht! Þenne an' nowe stylle unco flowed, 
Hwenne, IT! Great Þunor's an' Bauds' Warlike Orrah! 
Th' Daye-Luminarie at ITS Zenith-Trune Sacral, 
Verra, Verra Hye IT! waes, wae Rid Lowes Invincible
In nae, nae hynne! Hye Skye-Agony dwellin':

ĒACEN DÆGSCIELD,

Invisible, IT! intae Thae Deep Cauld Norland Skyes
Whare Thais Sunne! allwayes unco owre Wee, 
O'er Thais Horizon Harsh an' Warlike an' Dreary
Wae Fiery Skye-Dignity Primordial unco rules, 
Hwenne, IT! weall, weall Ah nowe stylle in Fyre Thad see!

STĪELENE GLYDERING,

Great Kvaysir's Orrah! th' Swaird-Hurt Schawdu! 
HYS Ghastly Apparition o'er Whin-Rock devastatingly makyt
Wae HYS Bluid Mirk! downe, downe! descendin', 
Hwenne, IT! ****** Hel's Guid Battle Orrah! 
Th' Enraged Ocean spake nae, nae IT laanger!

OFERȲÞUM BRIMRAD,

Wae HYS Whispered Woirds o' War intae HYS Storne Rageful, 
Hwenne hynne, at length IT! Airn an' Guid Thundir's Orrah! 
Th' Gore Sacrificial o' thoosan enemies o' mine! 
Quhame faced a' Ah! th' Lone Wolf-Feeder! ay nae Age-Worn! 
Wae ma War-Blade Dearest, THOROLF GIED called:

DYNGES BEADULÉOMA!

Red-Boilin' IT becam! an' frae Cauld Horizon tae Cauld Horizon extendin', 
An' Þenne a Vortex Feudal o' Coagulatin' Energy Micht! 
Indistinguishable frae thais Battle-Mass frae Auld Carham,

A LONE CRIMSON WAR-FIGURE UNCO MICHT
WAE THAIS BOILIN' BLUID BATTLE-SACRIFICIAL
UNCO! IN WAR-GORE PERENNIAL MAKYT! 
FRAE THAIS CAULD PROWID BATTLE-LANDIS
O'ER A'! TAE TH' WOUNDED SKYES HYE SOARIN'
WHA'S FEUDAL NAIM GORY, TH' OWAR-MANN! 
AYS WYLLE O' MINE BLUID-INCARNATED! 
FRAE DEEP TH' BYGANE, TOWARDIS YONDIR FUTURE, 
NOWE AFORE MINE SCARS O' WAR WAES
O'ER AN' O'ER, GUID BRUNANBURH'S ORRAH! 
TAE MEE! WAE MA SOLITARYE VISION
WAR-BLINDED UNCO RETURNIN',

Weall Ah hynne remember! An' nowe play mair, mair for mee! 
Yer Steel-Lyre Auld Wise! Fore Ah e'en mair distinctly see! 
Thro' Wreaths o' Bluid-Vapor Sacrificial, th' Heat o' th' Strywe! 
Theare cam forth, Ah say, an' TH' THYNGE! soared, unco free,

HEAHÞRYM OND DRĒOR-HÉAHSÆ,

O'er Thais Swaird-Encounter an' a' th' fallen afore mine eyes, 
Bye wha's Naim neither Ullr in Airn Enraged hynne, 
Nor Kvaysir Micht! nor Auld Vargs Unda gleamin'
Nor o' Hôm Loga Himna Hye! waes IT called, 
An' IT swayed nae, o'er th' Battle-Mass Gory!

CAMPWÍGES CWEALMDRÉOR,

Nor thro' HYS Feudal Bluid soarin', IT spake in any Battle-Ȝell, 
An' theare IT unco remained! o'er Thais Perennial o' mine Swaird-Hel:

MĪN GEMYNDIG GIET ÞUNRODE!

Wha's HYS ROUND SCYLD O' WAR held hye! towardis th' Sunne! 
A Continual Lowe o' Dense Fyre hynne a' gatherin', an' a
Luminous Rain frae th' Zenith-Sunne Invisible, thad waes IT

WAE REASON THUNDIR-FORCE A' STEERIN', 
DAZZLIN' LIGHTNIN' PERENNIAL A' CONQUERIN', 
TAE TH' INFINITE ITS WAR-BLUID INCREASIN', 
O'ER TH' SCYLD O' TH' OWAR-MANN
AYS A FYRE-RAY AN' MICHT STAR FLASHIN', 
AN' IN FEUDAL AIRN DWELLIN',

Hwenne! HYS Substance frae Bluid Sacrificial intae Gleamin' Steel turned, 
Thro' Loud Cries frae th' Battle thad stylle heard Ah:

WULFUM BEARHTM!

Stylle Liquid Metal o' War Dazzlin'! Feudal Wapin Formidable! 
Weaponized Airn-Soul Fetch'in-Micht o' mine! 
Wha's naim, in loud cries stylle! ays a BLINDIN' STAR O' WAR SUPREME,

HEOFONSTEORRA-GEBYLD,

Frae th' Remote Zone Mirk o' th' Luminous Skye nowe appearin'
Waes! Þenne Distinct a Titan Steel-Colossal IT becam, 
Whileas Thae Auld Woirds o' War Whispered Thay!

BLÓDWRACU,

Wee, ewyre-remembered, an' nae at a' Damnable Thay! 
Thad winna Thay a' ne'er, ne'er fade awa! stylle
Wi'in ear o' mine thro' th' Whooshin' Wynde
An' o'er th' whole Kintra rulin', stick-an'-stowe felt Ah:

ENDELĒAS MANFULTUM OND MÆGENÞISE
MĪN GEWILL ÆT SĒ ŌFER-MANN BIÞ, 
FORWEARD OND ÆGHWÆR STÍELE SWĀ, 
ÞA ÍSENWYRHTAN SĒ ŌFER-MANN,

Th' Frame! The Verra Frame o' Hye Conquerin' Steel-Feudal! 
Frae yondir Norþan-hymbre auld an' verra colorful! 
Wae th' War-Blade Bleezan intae deep Thais Battle-Storne, 
Th' Scarred in th' Cheek! th' Lone Scyld-Fighter:

BORDHREÓÐAN SCEADUGENGA OND WRECEND!

Nowe unco! Great Orrah! o' Soarin' War-Airn Empowered! 
Wi'in Thoosan Hye Skye-Clashes! Wi'in Thoosan Onslaughts, A' Rairan o' mine! 
Tae nowe in Airn schawe ye a'! HYE HEL:

EFTWYRD-GEWILL OND ÆLÍFES GEWIDERE, 
MĪN HEOFONFYRE WÆPENÞRACU! 
NU LÍGETSLIEHTUM SĒ ÞEGN, 
SWĀ STÍELE ĒACEN SĒ ŌFER-MANN,

Frae th' Bygane ays allwayis a Blank intae th' Gore dabbed, 
Towardis th' Future ays allwayis a Dangerus Landis! 
Whare th' cowardly enemies allwayis lurk an' await:

BEADOLEÓMAN UNWEORÐE!

Th' same wae TH' WYLLE TAE TH' HYE OVERMAN waes! 
Richte Nowe! Thais Steel-Titan Micht afore mine eyes
O'er th' corpses o' th' fallen an' intae th' Core-Fyre Sacrificial
Thad HYS SOLAR SCYLD held hye! stylle receivin' IT waes:

AHWÆR OND BALDLICE, 
EFT HEAÐUSIGLES ÁNWÍG,

Fore willin' th' Bygane ays IT haes bin in th' Overman Hye! 
Th' future ays empowered in HYS Feudal Person waes tae, 
Fore Willin' waes, IT! willin' th' Person o' Overman alone! 
Lyke a Verra Destination Tangible o' mine, IT! 
Intae thais Colossus o' Battle-Gore boilin' ays Cast Steel, Thad Wylle!

ÞYRSUM HEAÐUWÆD,

Thad th' Rational Firey Ah say, Continuum o' Lowes waes IT haudin! 
Wpon th' Scyld o'er an' o'er Flashin' IT, hynne Steel-Crucial! 
Increasin' IT! ITS Force Micht an' the Ray! tae th' Endless Skye! 
An' th' Frame! Th' Verra Noble Frame IRONCLAD-FEUDAL!

AD ALTA SIDERA INVICTO METALLO
NUPER SUPREMUM ARTIFICIUM BELLI
FLAMMISQUE CORPUS EXTRAMUNDANUM
QUOD GEWILL OVERMAN NUNC NOMINATUR
ERIT FERRO MAGNO SANGUINEQUE ET SCUTO
IN PROELIO APUD CAMPUM CARHAM
RUBRA VEXILLA REDITUS IGNEA SPIRAQUE
INVICTO METALLO VOLUNTAS MEA,

Fore, ageyne! Beguid Great, Great Orrah! 
Th' willin' Ane Thynge waes! wae Thais Steel-Titan O'erhuman! 
Thad GEWILL OVERMAN o'er Carham's Gory Landis waes IT called Auld:

SWEOLUNGA OND ÆLINGUM SWIÞE SWĀ! 
ÞÆR MĪN GLOWENDE-ÆDREGEARD ĀRĀS,

Fore, ageyne! Great Glamis' Wae Orrah! 
Willin' backiewards th' Bygane ays IT allwayis in Gore haes bin, 
Waes IT! willin'th' Overman ays nae laanger a Blank an' a War-Cauld:

HEÁFODWYLME OND SWEOLOÐAN HLEO!

Fore, ageyne! Þunores Fair an' Wounded Orrah! 
Willin' th' Bygane ays Want o' Pow'r waes willin' th' future ays Pow'r, 
Intae th' Verra Steel-Person o' Thais O'erhuman Steel-Avenger untold:

SĒ ĪSERN-HEREWÆÐA,

Fore, ageyne! Dagur's Guid Orrah o' mine! 
Willin' backiewards intae th' Tyme Irreversible, hynne unco Unforgivin' IT! 
Waes IT! willin' th' future ays Skye-Empowered nowe! 
Intae th' Person o' th' Overman Thais Steel-Titan o'er th' Scyld-Wa Micht, 
Thro' th' Spiral-Continuum thad Becomin' ays Increase in Pow'r waes: 

TH' SEL-RETURNIN' RAY CONDENSATIN' FYRE-JOYFUL:
FULLMÆGENES BRYNELEÓMA,
WPON TH' COLOSSAL SCYLD HELD IT, wae th' arm VERRA HYE! 

Fore ageyne! Devastatin' frae Cauld Thule Orrah! 
Th' bygane intae th' Airn-Person o' th' Overman ays IT haes bin! 
Must be IT willed! Fore thus different IT shall agyne be! 
Ays empow'red intae th' Central an' unco Firey-Abysmal IT, 
An' wae Rid Lowes hynne Rid! Return o' Pow'r Event:

BÆLÞRACE WUDUROSE!

Firm Thynge! an' Verra Core wi'in continual Becomin' ays Pow'r, 
Fore, ageyne! Thoosan Thundirs' Skye-Orrah! 
Tae affirm Lyife tae affirm th' OVERMAN nesisarie IT waes! 
Ays Wylle Superior, hynne True Wylle IT provin'! 
Ma Final Inner Strength! Ma Ultimate Inner Vision!

ÞUNORUM OND BEADWE GRYRELÉOÐE, 
MĪN WIGSIGOR-GESIHÐNES HLÍFEDE!

Thad ainlie Thais Steel-Jǫtunn o' War cannae, wi'in Battle-Lowes Hye! 
Across Auld Carham's Colorful, verra Colorful Scyld Wa Micht nae be! 

BREIÐØX-DRENGR ÆN ATGANGA!

Frae th' Past allwayis bleedin'! intae th' Future allwayis Dangerus! 
An' nae for a' wi'in th' Great Spiral o' Strife, o'er th' Battlefield
Ah nowe stylle see, Thais Steel-Spirit unco waes!

ÁGLÆCAN WUNDORSÉON, HĀL! 
NU MĪN FEORHBOLD BRǢDEÞ SWIÞE, 
RANDWÍGA WÆS IC! SĒ BISENE WRECEND! 
SWURD ON HANDA! HEORU-DRĒORE NACOD! 
HILDE-GRĪMAN! RÝNE STÍELE OND CRÆFTUM
BEADU WÆPEN, BRYNEWELMES STÁNTORR, 
HEAÐUWYLME OND STIELE SWĀ, 
GEWILL ÆT SĒ ŌFER-MANN HÂTEN,

Þenne, och! Great Guid Orrah! Tae nae mere War-Legend nowe fullefylle! 
Let mee ma Vision lastly recollect! THRIE SKYE-GLOBES O' SKYE-FYRE Fwlle! 
Tae ma Battle-Scarred Sight appeared out-owre th' Conquerin' Sunne! 
Intimately blended Thay A'! intae Thais Soarin' Metal-Fusion Gleamin' stylle: 
TH' OVERMAN! AN' TH' BEIN' AYS POW'R, unco Magnificent Thynge! 
AN' TH' RETURN AYS INCREASE IN POW'R! a Reingȝe formin' o'er yondir Hylle! 
Flashin' A' Thay! wae Thais STEEL-TITAN ays hynne ma Verra Guid Battle-Wylle!

GEGYLDEN HRINCG GEWILLE!
This composition of mine, or rather brief saga, mainly in archaic Scottish alongside Anglo-Saxon, Classical Latin and Old Norse, focuses on my own philosophical notion of will (“gewill” in Anglo-Saxon). The scene takes place during and after the Battle of Carham in about 1017 A.D. A giant steel mass emanates from the bloodshed as a sheer historical act, and then towers as the Person of the Overman itself, staring at the sun and holding a shield, thus signifying an ultimate embodiment of will, both in individual (as experienced by the narrator) and then collective (historical) terms. A physical-metaphysical Energy under a historical garb is accordingly involved, as well as thus a Hegelian influence. Other central philosophical notions of mine appear, like the Return of Power event, an overcoming, in terms of essence of recurrence, of the classical Eternal Return, visually evoked at the end as forming within the sky one of the "Three Globes of Fire" ("THRIE SKYE-GLOBES O’ SKYE-FYRE"). "ĒACEN DÆGSCIELD" (Anglo-Saxon) reads "The Mighty Shield of the Day (Sun)" and "ÞYRSUM HEAÐUWÆD" "The Battle Blood of the Demons". The word "WIGSIGOR-GESIHÐNES" (Anglo-Saxon) is a kenning, as it is "War-Mask" for "helmet" and "Scyld-Horror" for "close combat".
SøułSurvivør Jul 2015
---/'''\/\,,,/\/\/""---/\/\,,,/---

emotions toss
both you and me
we are all
on fortune's knee
the forest is
a single tree
in the
glass menagerie

we are heated
we are shaped
there's no way
we can escape
the unruly
rageful ape

there's nowhere
that we can hide
from the lion
in his pride

love's a bird
within a snare
a fox within
its secret lair
hate's a wounded
grizzly bear
of this we
have had our share

jealousy's
a monkey's paw
envy's
a tiger's jagged maw
pain's meat is red
its meat is raw
its voice a crow
to creek and caw

sorrow seldom
hunts alone
grief will gnaw
upon the bone
fear will
turn a beast to stone

happiness
a red, red rose
joy is like
a puppy's nose
where are these things
do you suppose?
the
bird of paradise
still grows

we are all
caught up, you see
there's no way we can
break free
caged in the

*GLASS MENAGERIE
An extension of
my poem "emotions"

I might combine them both (?)
Hermes Varini Nov 2022
Feudal, an’ Deep Swaird Scar-Faced Ah,

Th’ Lone Skye-Horror

Thad heare Ah once gleamingly wore,
Nowe! intae Theis Abysmal ay Past Fyre-Lore,
Ye a’ Skellums, see! Theis Rage o’ mine thad Ah bore
Heare! wae mah Thundir-Airn tirlin’, nae a Woe,
Taukin’ nowe Ah! wae th’ Wynde-Tone O’erhuman, fore
Abön th’ Skye-Storne wæs ay yondir Friendly Shore,
Wae a Pause wi’in mah strugglin’, nae ay any more,
Th’ Scyld Ah haudin’ unco glowin’, ‘yont th’ Castle Dore,
Whatna! Theis Airn-Wame o’ mine, Rageful ays nae afore,
Thro’ th’ Skye-Pruid ay Lightnings, an’ e’en skye-more,
*** ay standin’, ‘yont th’ Drakkar Ablaze, wae th’ Burnan Ore,
Thus Ðhunder-Imbued, Bluish Fyre becam mah flowin’ Gore,
O’er th’ Rid Rock soarin’, wrapped in th’ Auld taukin’ Lowe,
Revenge oan th’ Dust, wi’in theis Hill graven! stick-an-stowe,
Quhain! th’ Ocean abowt mah Person, th’ Gale intae twa it tore,
Quhain! th’ Return o’ Pow’r gaed tae its Guid Hel o’ Yore,
Quhain! a Firey Ember wæs mah Rubye Brooch ay hynne nowe,
‘Yont th’ Seven-Headed Beast Winged, wha Grim He swore,
Mah Frame Axe-Wounded, Rays emittin’ frae ilka pore,
Deep intae theis ay Norland Janwar’s bitin’ owre Frore,
An’ a Mirror appeared! thro’ th’ Thunderbolts, nae thair Chore,
Nae Gode bit th’ Owar-Mann! mah Steel-Ghaist, nae tae adore,
Quher! mah Battle-Scars Rid wur stylle thais unco a Soare,
Quher! th’ Cauld theare wæs tae mah Throat aye smore,
Quher! mah Sel-Reflection dazzlin’ it wæs, thro’ th’ Aurore,
Togiddir wae mah Chain Mail flashin’, tae th’ Whyte Core!

ŌFER-MANNES BEADULÉOMAN WÆLGRYRE,
NIHTES HRÍÐUM SĊĒAWERE OND WÆPENÞRACUM
UNDER HERE-GRĪMAN OÞÍEWEDE SE DWIMOR,
HWÆR SWĀ MISGEWIDERE ECGÞRACU MAÞELODE,

SIGRSÆLL EK AFSKRÆMI-LIGA MIS-YRKI,
ÞÁ EN GINSTAN MEÐ MJÖK FRÆKNLIGA
VIND-ǪLD ÞVÍ NÆST ALMÁTTIGR ALFÖÐR,

QVA RE

ALTO A SEPTENTRIONE VINTICTÆ CVM FVLMINE

DEVS RVBRA FEVDORVM SECVRE THOR NOMINE MEORVM
SPECVLO CHALIBE SIVE SCVTO MEO SOLISQVE POLITISSIMO
RVBRO IN TEMPLO CVM ILLE NVNC AIT MIHI ALTOQVE
MEA REX SIVE BELLATOR OVERMAN NOMINE SPATHA
VT INGNEVS SIT MAXIME HOC TONITRVO MEVS VIGOR
AC FVGIENDA FVLMINE ESSE CÆRVLEO HIC VMBRA
ET INTRA FLAMMAS AC RVBRA EX FEODALE VLTIONE
ALBO HIC FVLMINE AC HYDRA SEPTEM CAPITIBVS RVBRA
LIVIDO EX IGNE GRÆCO PROFVNDE HIC FACETE DICTO

ENΘΔE KAI ΔE ETI
AΦΘONΩΣ Ω OVERMAN

OΛΩΣ ΔE ΠΟΚΑΤΑΣΤΑΣIΣ ΠANTH
KAI ΔYNAMIΣ ΓE KAI AΛHΘEIA TEΩΣ
NYN ΔOΞA KAI ΔE KAI ΔAIMΩN

STAT DEMVM ILLE HIC NOMINE REX I

QVA RE

FERRO AMICTVS FEODALE IMMORTALIQVE TOTALITER EGO CVM SPATHA
VBI LIVIDA MEA SPECVLI REFLECTIONE AC VESTE CONCREVERVNT CHALYBIS FVLMINA

QVOAD

AD INFINITVM PERPETVO RECVRRENS POTENTIÆ INCREMENTO SICVT IGNEA ROTA HÆC IMAGO
FEODALIS SIVE O ΔΑIΜΩΝ GRÆCO VERBO MEA EX FVLMINIBVS IN SPECVLO LIVIDA
AC POST DE BRVNANBVRH PROELIVM ASSIDVE DE OVERMAN CRVORE POTENTIOR IGNEA

QVIA

VENIT RECVRSV POTENTIÆ HOC IDVLVM IVGITER SIVE TO EIΔΩΛON EXTRAMVNDANVM MIHI
AC HÆ SVNT LEX RATIOQVE DE OVERMAN INVIOLABILITER HAC IN LAPIDE INSCRIPTÆ

QVOMODO

FVLGORIS NATVRA OVERMAN SIVE ENAPXIKH TPIAΣ EXCELLENTIA ESSENTIÆ
HOC FVLMINORVM INCREMENTO SINE FINE AC SINE INITIO HVIVS TEMPESTATIS MAGNI AC IRÆ MEÆ

QVAQVMQVE

SVMMA EST IN SCVTO SIVE SPECVLO CONTINVATIONEM ILLE GENERANS ET VLTOR
AC MVTATIONIS INCREMENTVM TONITRVO SICVT ΔEYPO TΩ EMΩ AIMATI PERSEVERANS

QVONIAM

SIT DENVO GRÆCA CVM VOCE AC TONITRVO EX SANGVINE MEO IGNEO
FEODALE HORVM FVLMINORVM METALLICO CORPORE MEA VINDICTA SICVT

ΜOΝΗ EΣTI ΚΑΙ ΠΡOΟΔΟΣ ΚΑI ΔH ΚΑI ΕΠΙΣΤΡΟΦH
EΝ ΤΩ ΧΡOΝΩ ΦΑΣΜΑΤΑ

QVONDAM

ΤA ΠAΝΤΑ AEI ΚOΣΜΟΣ-ΛOΓΟΣ ΚΑΙ ΜEΤΡΟΝ
ΤO ΓΕ ΝYΝ ΓΝΩΣΙΣ

AC RELVCENTEM MAGNVMQVE IN SPECVLO LAVDO ET CANO VINDICEM
ET PERGITE RVBRA HAC IN ALTISSIMA RVPE HVIVS HIEMIS FVLMINA

AD QVEM

IRA CVM EXTRAMVNDANA MEA ET FEODALE CORPORE

LOCVM  FERRO AMICTVS SPATHA SCVTOQVE PERVENIEBAM NATANS
INTRA OCEANVM AD VERGENTIS OCCASVM CALEDONIÆ REGNI SICVT

OVERMAN ECGÞRACU.
Set after the Battle of Brunanburh in A.D. 937, this composition of mine, or rather brief epic, in archaic Scots, Classical Latin, Anglo-Saxon, Old Norse and ancient Greek, tells of a lone warrior, severely wounded after the battle, whose blood turns into fire and lightnings, as attracted by his armor, when a mirror appears before him as formed by thunderbolts themselves ("VBI LIVIDA MEA SPECVLI REFLECTIONE AC VESTE CONCREVERVNT CHALYBIS FVLMINA"), at the top of a soaring rock off the coast of western Scotland ("INTRA OCEANVM AD VERGENTIS OCCASVM CALEDONIÆ REGNI"), during a storm, therein obtaining immortality, upon his own reflected self, that is, the Overman himself, recurring over and over more powerful to the infinite as one person ("AD INFINITVM PERPETVO RECVRRENS POTENTIÆ INCREMENTO SICVT IGNEA ROTA HÆC IMAGO"). My own Return of Power event thus surfaces. How he was able to reach this rock, in his own bleeding condition, and in a heavy iron vest with sword and shield while swimming, I leave it undefined, hence to the interpretation of the reader. The title reads “The Overman through the Onrush of Swords”. “Ah” is “I”, "wae" is "with", and "stick-an-stowe", "totally", "altogether".
Beautiful                  Ordinary
Gorgeous                 Ugly
Extraordinary          Dull
Lovely                       Boring

Brooding                  Flighty
Overbearing            Naive
Monstrous               Caring
Wicked                     Innocent

Blossoming            Dying
Sultry                       Clumsy
Exceptional            Lifeless
Intoxicating           Repulsive

Revolting                Exquisite
Vengeful                 Loving
Grotesque              Radiant
Rageful                   Endearing
Anais Vionet Feb 2022
Everyone’s getting covid. It’s become serious.
And pretty much everyone here is triple vaxxed.
1 in 17 at Yale have it now. One of my roommates got it.
I’m hoping I get it - if I get it - before finals.
‘cause I doubt Yale professors would give extensions.
“You’re dying? Did you not read the syllabus? NO extensions”

“What were you like as a kid?“ He asked.
Umm, “naïve..,” “boyish.. obsessive.” I answered, thoughtfully.
And how would you describe yourself now? He follows-up.
Umm, “less naïve..” “boyish.. obsessive.,” we laughed.

2006: Taylor Swift releases her first album. I was three years old.
I grew up with her - every breakup, every turns-out-gay boyfriend.
She’s brilliant - don’t get me wrong - no doubt in the universe,
but she’s not the underdog any more - not an outsider - she’s FAB rich, royalty, no, better than royalty. And she has the Taylor army.
Why is she always threatening physical violence?
Taylor is candid, she’s gay and straight, she’s republican, rageful, ****** and complex and I want to believe she actually ran someone down aka a Gatsby
She’s the Alexander Pope of our generation.
I’m just questioning the Taylor Swift breakup-industrial-complex.

Is Pete Davidson hot? I can’t decide.
He looks sort of gangly and awkward.
He’s dating Kim Kardashian.
I mean it’s not like Kanye is hot.
She’s obviously not looking for THAT.
BLT word of the day challenge: Candor : "unreserved, honest, or sincere expression."
mumbo jumbo
Pinkbun17 Oct 2016
I can't stand this reflection
Because I'm reminded of all the tension
I could barely breathe,
when I saw my soul leave

Bones rattled in loneliness
I became defenseless,
while you were rageful and senseless
You relished in my fears
and the dejectedness of my tears

I was your enemy,
and eventually we learned
My heart innocently yearned,
but instead your hate intensely BURNED

I should have found it shocking,
when I found out you were lying
Your grin exposed it all
You were going to make me fall

I simply waited-even as you slashed me
I craved to be free
Inside, all my depression-spilled out in screams and tears
For a second, your eyes reflected fears

You left me, clinging to life and bleeding...
Was your heart still human-and beating...?

I allowed myself to be merely defeated by you.
Written 2009, 2011, and 1/14/15
Adam Holmstrom Sep 2017
It felt like I wore an armoured vest.
I was guarded from my sins
even if I didn't believe in sin.
The mind's power knows no bounds
in it's ability to forget
and it's hope to be forgiven.
It justified every action,
every tasteless thought
and every lustful litany
of divine misdemeanor.

I felt invincible, then I met you,
and I learned you could hurt me.
Your defiance did pierce me,
a flame headed arrow
through my chain mail chest.
My love just mere cloth
that you slashed quickly through.

The stronger the pain
came the greater intrigue.
Why were you so rageful
and in protest of my admiration?
You may have hurt me,
but you are more broken than me.
Perhaps you were just what I needed.
A selfless deed as a soul to be saved.
Someone to be cared for
as I've ignored many before.
Someone to love with no love back,
someone to give joy while I cry.
If you ride off into the sunset
while I still lay wounded,
you will have left me moral gold
to forge my armour back.
A weird and effective form of therapy is to tell yourself you deserve this suffering if you've made someone suffer before. But it's never to late to right said suffering by selflessly making a difference in someone's life. Notes to myself.
Wordfreak May 2016
Join us.
Walks amongst the killers.
The muggers, the criminals, the monsters.
Those with no fear,
Those with no conscience.
Walk amongst those who understand loss.
We take from the world,
Because it has taken from us.
Unfortunately, we feel pain.
And we become more rageful because of it.
We feel no love, though we crave to.
We feel no guilt.
I'm a ******, though not in the usual way.
My words force themselves through your eyelids.
Making you want to believe them,
To read more.
But that's a talent.
I use it, and I don't apologize.
-Mike
Creepstar May 2016
The thought of fathering another life
Has got me smiling
I know the impending strife
Mother of first child will be whiling

I mean if I can't buy a pack of cards
Without being told I have to pay her tax and rent
I know she'll go full hulk
In an angry rageful vent
Living with these demons in me,
these monsters keep on haunting me,
they go by many names, and wear
many faces as they try and test me.
They want to try and get the best
of me, they competing for my soul,
like it were a game of chess,
but this one ghoul, he just
likes to rage and roar and
ravage and rake me across the coals,
and he calls himself the Rage.

In my dreams, I seen him barking,
something like a man, but something
more still. He's tall as hell,
skin red like the raging fire,
eyes burning with rageful desire.
The fiend, he emanates heat from
every pore, just being around him
was like walking in an oven.

In this dream or maybe a vision,
I watched him for a while, before
he spotted me. He stood still like
a stone statue, not making a sound
or moving a muscle, but I could feel.
I could feel and sense that anger boiling,
like a dormant volcano rumbling, or
a teapot steaming about to blow over.

As far as I could tell, nothing had
made him angry, hell, he was just
standing there like a *****.
Just looking at him was making me
angry too. Something in his face,
the way of his gait, or something.
I couldn't begin to explain it,
but trust me, when I say I wanted
to give him something to be mad about.

I guess the anger got the best of me,
cause without even thinking, I just did,
my muscles clenched, and my teeth did grind,
and that was all that he needed to spot me.
Quicker than a neck snap, his head turned
back as he finally saw me staring him down.

For a minute, he just looked at me
and I looked back at him, both of
us with an expression that colored us red.

Then. He screamed.

He screamed an awful, abominable scream
that rang in my ears and made me recoil,
holding my head in my hands, something
so ugly uttered out of his mouth.
I could hardly look or hear or even think
straight anymore, but I barely saw the
Rage coming for me, running wildly.

Something was keeping my feet grounded,
like some kind of mental quicksand,
I couldn't run or fight or defend,
all I could was scream from within.
I screamed, as he was screaming, and
then something hit me right as he was
about to.

I woke up screaming, but soon stopped.
My skin was sweating, but not in cold ones,
just hot and grimy and smelly, like
I had just ran a marathon or something.
It didn't make no sense, I had just
been sleeping in my bed, but then.

I realized it. The Rage lived within
me. He was me, just another me that
made the me up that you all see.
Every flash of anger, every urge to hurt
every time I wanted to choke or punch
or kick or slap or yell or scream
someone or something, that was The Rage.
Even those days when I could hardly feel
a thing, that demon was still deep in me,
dormant yet dooming and downing me still.

I didn't sleep for the rest of the night.
Starlight Sep 2018
You ask me
why am I so loud

why does the sound boil
broil and thunder in my chest
rise up like the wave
vibrate in the soiled earth
pull up and out
strands of melancholy
rageful sound falling listlessly
in heavy breaths
why do my eyes widen
as the screams
leave my lips
and the suffocating noise
burns at your ears
why do my hands shake
my knees tremble under my own
inevitable fall, the weight
the heave
the haul
why do I shake so
why do my lips quiver
like the aching strings
of an odious and
thrumming violin
why does my heart pound
so loud
in sync with my voice

and when the sound drops away
and the room falls silent
and the penny drops
with a clatter
that disrupts the tension
why does the quiet fall so easily
and the blame so succinctly
and why does the shaking
stop
and the numbness
cloud over my eyes
and lips
like mists engulfing the
echo of the
waterfalls crash
against hell or high water
the pale flush of the drained noise
of the quiet within the storm
beckoned by the aching lightning that
holds no sound
and only sharp flashes
why do I sit so poised
legs curled elegantly
eyes half lidded as I let
it wash over you
the crusted horses of that
frothing tide
how can I be so serene
when the walls have trembled
in the wake of my
shaking shouts
in the corruption of my
dark and heady
complexion

am I truly there
to speak
or was it only
in the gallows
of my treacherous mind
to dream up such
madness
that I

girl of quiet

could speak up.
sandra wyllie Jan 2019
Something Beautiful

you took and put your own ugliness on it. You painted it
black with your fears and insecurities. You punished it
for being kind, for loving you. You pushed it away
and then screamed ****** ****** when it did not

call. You tested its strength every day to see how far it would go, how long it would hang on. It drove you to madness,
its perfection. You had to find a flaw. You drove it to madness
by breaking it down into decimals. And still you didn’t get

the point. You hung it outside in the freezing cold until
it was stiff. Didn’t you get rageful when it didn’t thaw as
quick as it used to. It wouldn’t snap back into place this
time. It was your second biopsy. You remember

it like yesterday. It felt like this time you pushed it
all the way into the black hole. You found something else
to fill the cavity, something that wasn’t sweet. Nothing would taste that sweet again.
Mejia Jul 2022
I want to know you in the worst way
The face you make when you first wake up
Shocked by the alarm that goes off in the dark

Not the paper daisies spray-painted pink that you post

Your breath after a night of drinking
Your beaded forehead and sticky hair

Not the smooth skin I’ve used to weave my fantasies

I want to know you in the worst way
The uncontained, rageful vengeance you feel
When you’ve started the same sentence again

Not the voice of reason you’ve been lip-syncing with

The you that shouts unforgivables and cruelties
The you that begs for forgiveness for your cruelty

Not the stone that sits in the garden, forever the same

I want to know you in the worst way
The way someone used to love you
The one you tried your best with

Not the bridges you doused with gas out of “courtesy”

The you that dances alone in your room
By the spotlight of a cheap lamp you thrifted

Not the performer who’s comfortable on the daily stage

The you that floats like a paper daisy on the river
Can I ask you if
You would have done it to me
If I wasn't weak

No, I guess the real question is this...
How does it really feel
to be in love with me

Am I a joke a being
Or maybe some playing thing
to fill some empty reels

Have I ever being....
taken seriously
Or maybe the words I speak....
are just some fallacy

Is that why you flee
and leave silently

Have you ever think...
That this shattered part of me
will ever bind to its piece

Do you even believe
That this rageful heart I keep
will ever find its peace

I thought we were the king and Queen
That this love kingdom needs
I the petals and you' the bees
to produce ah honey sweet

Do you feel I'm a kid
or maybe a thoughtless being
living in fantasy
For writing this poetry

Why'd you keep me in shack
And let pain bleed me dry
When you leave me behind

Whyd you feed me to sharks
And then you leave me to cry
even if it would lead me blind

All I know is this
I will continue to keep
this rages I nurture within
Till you come set them free

I hope one day you will...
maybe come back to be
my ever-blazing peace

And if it never come to be
I'll brace myself and script...
beautiful poetry
under the autumn tree 🌳
Happy New months poetry lovers
sandra wyllie Aug 2019
is not this always
I must remember that
in the sad times
the frightful
anguish times
the rageful times
the times in pain
and suffering
and some happy moments
that find themselves
filtering in and out

This me is a moment
in my history
so is this you
there’s more to us than
what we are now
there’s what we were
and there’s
what we can be
Neither of us knowing
what we’re capable of
only time will be showing us
But I should be careful
because it will affect me later
So, I better think it over
now
sandra wyllie Mar 2022
of hollow bodies with no souls
heartless men in mocked-up roles
It’s hard to take a cleansing breath
the fact of this life's death
of war, surfeit, and poverty
sickness and countries under seize
polluted beaches and acid rain
every day is filled with pain
closed minds and deaf ears
blind eyes and lost tears
hands clenched in rageful fists
drug dealers and slashed wrists
underage *** and violence
cut my tongue
have me silenced
but I can't face another day
swimming in this sea of pain
Alex McQuate Dec 2022
Looking around,
Pit-Pat Paddy-Wack,
Heart bat-batting to an electronic beat,
Morale swinging like a grandfather clock,
Tick-Tick-Tocking,
One moment serene like a Sholin Monk,
The next rageful like Kublai Khan,
Sweat running like rivulets like some kind of Gatorade commercial,
Vision a-tunneling,
Fists a-tightening.

This inner monster jumpin,
Like a monkey on the bed,
While the outer demon is swayin,
Like a reed in the breeze,
Duality being duplicitous,
And clarity illusive like a cloud in the fog.
Hands Mar 2011
I live a life of constant motion
though sprinkled with mental rest
and constant failure.
I am a disappointment,
a freak,
a ***** ****** waiting to die
at the hands of an angry,
repressed and repressive
white mob.
I hate everything about myself,
my nose, my ears, my eyes,
my lips, my cheeks, my eyebrows,
my pores, my flesh, my motions,
my mannerisms, my personality,
all of the wide gullies of my mind
and the imploding center of soul.
I like to whine,
though I realize it does no good
as I never quite win.
There is no one to hold me
and sway me in the dark,
nobody to be the ocean
under my boat -like body.
The world is rosy and I
am disgusting,
yellowed and rotting
in color and in character.
I'm jealous of the love everyone else
can receive, of the unsuppressed
acceptance to which all are subjugated.
I have no great love,
no beautiful story to wow you with,
only my hatred,
my anger,
the boiling
the seething
the slow and complete
rageful roasting of my pillars
and my temple to lay at your feet.
I am a constant failure.
I am addicted to various
mind altering substances.
My mind has been altered.
I am an alien
a subterranean beast
come to destroy this
terrestrial world
as there is no muscled and toned
Adonis to love--
no,
it is much worse--
not even a greasy *******
to comfort me in my
swelling and rising
self-consciousness.
Self aware
of my situation,
my insecurities climb
upon my arched back,
mounting me,
my failure ****** me
in the only way I recognize
affection: force.
I wanted a mob
but I guess I can destroy myself,
too.
I have about 5 poems undeveloped and crammed into one, here. Haven't written in a while and losing my mind.
sandra wyllie Apr 2020
I’m in love. I’m looking
at myself through the spots on
the glass. The streaks of emptiness
have passed. The silhouette is

sliding toward the door. He flicks
the switch before he steps on the
boards. I anticipate the light that cuts
through the darkness in the room. The only

thing to separates us is the piece of
wood. It’s the ritual of Tuesday afternoons
that makes me want to say, “just wait.”
It’s knowing that in this moment I’ll feel

great. It replaces the dullness of Wednesday
for sure. It takes the sadness of Thursday
away. It drills a hole in the anguished Fridays. It
leaves the rageful Saturdays burned. And panicked

Sundays are long ago returned. The dreams of
Monday are still turning on the spit. Which brings
me to Tuesday afternoon. It’s worth the long
and arduous trip.

— The End —