"recourse" poems
Lucifer, save us; come up from Hell—
take a good look at the place that we dwell.
You were right all along
to refuse to bow down
to Adam and Eve
and their limitless throng.
And how could you have known that the apple you gave her
would plant seeds of pollution, destruction and terror?
You thought that we’d only use knowledge for good.
I know that you’d take it all back if you could.
Lucifer, we aren't angels like you.
We joined your rebellion, and soon we’ll be through.
Now the recourse from the wreckage that is,
is to bring on the foreshadowed Apocalypse.
So come on, Luci, don’t hesitate:
The Four Horsemen are pacing; why delay Fate.
After the End, there will be a new start,
perhaps without humans; we’ll bow and depart.
Apr 28, 2018
Apr 28, 2018 at 10:09 PM UTC
* **HIM
Hello love, ya I just got into town
Well I just thought, you know
If you were going to be round....**
HER
The lover of my dark desire just calls.
He beckons with a smile.
"Come hither." whispers husky voice
alluring me with guile.
My heart compels me to comply.
My brain says "This is wrong."
And yet, I find my feet move toward
the magnet of his song.
**HIM
Did he ever wonder, about that one time
Does he know that those were mine
You know she would surely die
If I ever left her high and dry...**
HER
Shhh ... a finger on his urgent lips,
"the rest let's just forget"
I'm aroused by heated passion
igniting lust within ... I'm wet
**HIM
No one can know what tomorrow will bring
But for tonight my love, it's you for me
Behind the gas station I just couldn't wait
I put her up against wall in trance like state**
HER
Penned against the wall with parted lips
A kiss to potent to breathe
Not nearly private enough, still
my legs part, spread with his knee
**HIM
So willing as I pulled up her dress
Gasping for lust with erratic breaths
No need to be bashful when freaking at night
Three moons were shining vividly bright**
HER
I surrender. I give up.
Release me from the spell.
No recourse now exists for me
but succumbing to ecstasy, as well.
**HIM
Such passion for life
Breeds a hunger for lust
Fulfilling and satisfying
Yet I can't get enough
Her smell on my fingers
As I take to the road
Another memory
Worn into flesh and bone**
HER
{CODA}
A chill descends upon my heart
as I watch him drive away.
And as I've done so oft' before,
I wish for him to stay
And though I know he must go
back to his life there.
I close my eyes and smell his scent
dreaming of all we shared.
by
Traveler Tim
&
Cné*
Jul 6, 2017
Jul 6, 2017 at 4:26 PM UTC
See the emblem waving
Proudly, touted in the sky.
We walk among our brethren.
We recourse, resource the reason why.
All, in trepidation...
We cry out for separation.
Could it be our own downfall,
Equality, but not for all -
But, not for all?
Citizens of the nation,
Before humanitarians,
First comes clicks of locking doors.
Equality does not endure.
A man of any land should be my brother.
The whole earth, to us, our mother.
Could it be our own downfall,
Equality, but not for all -
But, not for all?
See the burden being carried
High upon laden backs,
Tautly stretched, with shoulders bending.
Each fear the other will attack.
The words have been the same,
But for intent that's not their own.
For too long, have we been believed.
Equality is just for some -
Is just for some.
Freedom is only for the free.
The lines that keep the captives buckling,
The doors that keep them let them go.
They have no where to escape.
Always there is tyranny
For the landless refugee.
He is no man as worthy as you.
Equality is just for some -
Is just for some.
All the lessons that teach us to love
The home of brave and free
Are based on notions that could not be true,
If all are not the same as you.
And, are they not the same as we,
Who are decorating for our holidays.
Living in our plentitude,
Singing songs of charity and caring -
Charity and Caring?
Gifts are given and received.
Do we remember the lessons taught
About the kind of men we are,
When another is in need?
Do they not rate the same concern
As the presents and the tree,
As we pray in Holy Spirit,
Singing songs of charity and caring -
Charity and caring?
See the emblem waving
Proudly, touted in the sky.
We walk among our brethren.
We recourse, resource the reason why.
All, in trepidation...
We cry out for separation.
Could it be our own downfall,
Equality, but not for all -
But, not for all?
Nov 25, 2015
Nov 25, 2015 at 12:45 AM UTC
Happenstance to the melancholic gives leave the sin of pride.
Inbound reconnaissance tells not the bearer of influence.
Squeamish at first: a foreshadowing of calamitous bonding.
A space between the mark of corporeal and the ethereal; a stringent hiatus
That which rattles the concrete foundation of morality is scarcely a malleable recourse.
Regret stains the unfounded soul: an enigma of ephemeral perforations.
A separation of the unmitigated humanities; misandry topples the writhing snake.
Impact; a cleansing of the maker's flaws integrated solemnly.
Complacency arrests the administration of the abhorred; unbridled is the autonomy of a guru.
Ambivalent giftedness burdens the reliant and haughty.
A flick of the tongue brings forth the cinema mortem.
Castaway: alone to wade in the sea of obscenities.
A temporal causality allows no mourning to abscond.
Negligence is not the enemy, but indulgent wrath.
Hesitant: a stroke of qualia begets the end of a maiden.
Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 11:13 AM UTC
maybe I should encourage violence within conformity and seek to end impressionism or maybe NOT!- create perversions within a song split-ting hairs of the long dead being found at a youthful age washed ashore no longer breeding nor bleeding ceased of breathing to be now an exact science- scaled back models of when it was brave to be bold but hidden from news cameras for leftover caveats - I wanna go else-where and find redemption to shout **** you - desktop plants dried out from foul air and aspirin bottles ******** clad in old skin next to a banana peel- no remorse no recourse no answers for in my brain
prescribed lies conjunct with irreversible truth complexity.
Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 11:44 AM UTC
Born in these hills, taken away
when I was three.
Son of a coal miner who took
my mother, my brother, and me.
Drove west to the ocean, Pacific.
The kids there called me "hillbilly" and "hick."
Said I talked funny. Punched me, kicked me,
generally tried their best to make sure
I knew I didn’t belong there.
And I did not.
Eventually, though,
I learned to speak like them,
dress like them, act as if I was not
from Kentucky, my daddy
was not Appalachian, that
these mountains had no part of me.
My only recourse was
after the pledge of allegiance…
I never sang the “Oregon” song.
I sang, "Kentucky."
But, my father, he wouldn’t change.
He was proud of his heritage.
He played banjo; he played mandolin;
he went fishing, a lot.
Grew the best garden in the county,
ate soup beans and cornbread.
He did not give a hang for their Yankee ways.
I hated him. I hated my father.
until I returned to these hills.
Now I see them,
I see him,
in me.
Feb 15, 2010
Feb 15, 2010 at 6:53 AM UTC
#*Worship is the soul’s feasting upon that which it believes will fill it up
and we perpetually worship whatever we deem most worthy
of our attention and affection and sacrifice.
It is so firmly set in our very nature that at all times
we will be worshiping something
for the soul knows no other recourse.
There is only One worthy of such devotion
but if we aren't continually looking to and bowing down
to this One Who alone has the power to satisfy, heal and free us
we will automatically default to worshiping created things that then
have the power only to disappoint, damage and enslave us.*#
Nov 15, 2015
Nov 15, 2015 at 10:40 AM UTC
You're an inspirational exciting jolt
Like an invitational lightning bolt
I'm suddenly shocked by the results
When I am blocked by your revolt
You have my beating heart in your hand
Holding me hostage where I silently stand
Staring at your ****** butcher's cleaver
That morphs me into a landlocked ******
You're a two-hander
Like a sledgehammer
Or a radar jammer
I start to stutter and stammer
When I see your weekly planner
And the lack of my presence
Because I'm incessant
You hold a pencil and an eraser
You delete when I become a tracer
And start to draw a better replacer
You hold the scales of justice
Though I claim you're unfit
You say add that to the list
From the throne where you sit
And there's no avenue for any recourse
When your other hand holds so much force
I must deal with your actions
So I can stay in your faction
For my heart's attraction
I am never right
So we never fight
And we never might
Understand each other
When we're taking cover
From exposing vulnerability
An exploding soul is filling me
Because the cold mist killing steam
Between us until you are only a dream
And my mind starts bursting at the seams
Until there's a monster barely mentally caged
But the bars shake when it is constantly enraged
When your saccharine emotions are cynically staged
My bustling brain will unfortunately always be plagued
By your neutral reactions which I'll never be able to gauge
You hold two hands behind your back
Will it be an attack?
Our two hands should meet
Instead I'm trampled by feet
Nov 23, 2017
Nov 23, 2017 at 5:00 AM UTC
Son of a Snitch
My daddy was an informer to the FBI,
got caught selling drugs to this undercover guy,
his only recourse was to tell what he knew,
but people found out and gave him the *****
they even took it out on me, I'm Mitch,
and rubbed it in my face, call me son-of-a-snitch
came home from work the other day,
looked for my ******* and my can of starch spray,
magazine was gone could not find it at all,
I said hey, who took my friggin book off the wall,
wife looked at me and with nary a hitch,
she said why you ask me you son-of-a-snitch
went to the super to get me some cheese,
beans and beer and bread if you please,
wanted a streak but the cost was to high,
asked man behind counter I say hey old guy,
why this price so high is this some glitch,
he say don't ask me you son-of-a-snitch
everywhere I go I get the same old crap,
a punch in the gut, a facefull of slap,
just because daddy bought his way out of debt,
this is the kind of treatment I always get,
I plead my case give it my best pitch,
quit that whining you son-of-a-snitch
Gomer LePoet...
Apr 15, 2010
Apr 15, 2010 at 7:51 PM UTC
You talk and you talk
so many lies
It cut so deep
I guess you felt it to
I saw inside Pandora's box
then you did it
you walked away
Left without a thought
for my life
a memory I can’t hold onto
It cut so deep
And now I’m moving on
from the pain that pounded my soul
I’m starting to recover
from what you did to me
By facing the deceit
where the truth lies beneath
With extraordinary support
and understanding
The cut not so deep anymore
Knowing I have legal recourse
I can fight back
I am fighting back
Knowing I have protection
from the lies
that the truth will be told
I am regaining my life
The cut not so deep anymore
Apr 18, 2013
Apr 18, 2013 at 3:33 PM UTC
We shall make
A recourse to the gun,
If for election we run
Devoid of ideas,
Sell which we can,
We could hardly win
The heart of a single fan.
Also labelled
"Corrupts,atavists
And narrow nationalists"
They can
Put on us a ban
So that sinks on us
The Sun.
Climbing into
A political ivory tower
Is not for us,
Let us beat
The drum of war
To garner
And to monger to power.
.
Jan 5, 2019
Jan 5, 2019 at 3:13 AM UTC
We as the United States generate hate
by overstepping our bounds
moving our military into other nations
The real root cause to drill oil in the ground
Cause we need oil to move
our economy - so we ignore
other countries rights to autonomy
Because we're America bringing freedom
to the world - yes please understand
We'll help out Libya and Iraq but
not Rwanda or Sudan - its the American plan -
We bring freedom if you've got something for us
So please adore us, give us
your natural resources - then we'll
destroy your country and be its only
recourse - we use force to get
what we need even if it means
making more die and bleed -
so cut the real TV feed and let
the American media propaganda proceed
Feb 11, 2014
Feb 11, 2014 at 9:22 PM UTC
I was enriched, not casting after marvels,
But as one walking in a usual place,
Without desert but common eyes and ears,
No recourse but to hear, power but to see,
Got to love you of grace.
Subtle musicians, that could body wind,
Or contrive strings to anguish, in conceit
Random and artless strung a branch with bells,
Fixed in one silver whim, which at a touch
Shook and were sweet.
And you, you lovely and unpurchased note,
One run distraught, and vexing hot and cold
To give to the heart’s poor confusion tongue,
By chance caught you, and henceforth all unlearned
Repeats you gold.
2.9k
I lied in bed and hit send
While she waited at the beach
The lesson that I wanted to teach
Through an email to my girlfriend
A coward's way to break a heart
Revenge provides the best of fuels
And in this way broke all my rules
And into depression I did depart
There is no closure for our souls
Perhaps I'll fall into remorse
While she into another's recourse
Or just maybe not, no one knows
Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 5:02 AM UTC
She walks at night likes passion's grace
Through nebulous fields of dream landscapes
Wild Morpheus her footsteps guides
She’s lust’s impassioned wile incarnate
Her will like swirling ocean currents
Endows the night with wanton purpose
Sent from heaven's pearly gates
To make men ponder mortal fortune
Tempting spirits will to sate
Demanding accolades of prowess
To satisfy her primal needs
Traverse her treacherous terrain
Her visage of immortal love
Like honey dripping from the comb
Inspires reckless heart's abandon
Dawn comes like coitus interruptus
Narcotic wisps of contention fade
A thrall with no earthly recourse
Apr 25, 2018
Apr 25, 2018 at 3:37 PM UTC
Distant clouds lining the endless horizon hurtling back in waves,
rugged trees on the blue-barren shore, courtyard of this palace-
prison: the world shrinks, receding softly like
the last light of the evening sun:
Neither Odysseus King of Ithaca, nor a captive prisoner of
my own deeds, now, the world drops from me, in this
deep night I really am no-man, now, I am merely
the awareness of nothingness.
New worlds emerge: where I ride flying elephants, a hero I am
who won without recourse to a decoy horse, where Achilles
lives and Laodamia grieves not, where I rejoice
at my home the year after we won:
Fair Queen, worlds as real as my prism-world at dawn, where
the sea-nymph reigns; Many pasts converge and onward
to many futures from this present-point, I am really
ever just the silent witness.
Oct 11, 2012
Oct 11, 2012 at 9:53 PM UTC
She walks at night likes passion's grace
Through nebulous fields of dream landscapes
Wild Morpheus her footsteps guides
She’s lust’s impassioned wile incarnate
Her will like swirling ocean currents
Endows the night with wanton purpose
Sent from heaven's pearly gates
To make men ponder mortal fortune
Tempting spirits will to sate
Demanding accolades of prowess
To satisfy her primal needs
Traverse her treacherous terrain
Her visage of immortal love
Like honey dripping from the comb
Inspires reckless heart's abandon
Dawn comes like coitus interruptus
Narcotic wisps of contention fade
A thrall with no earthly recourse
Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 3:18 AM UTC
Drifting like a feather in the wind,
Being carried here and there,
In love's windstorm, around I'm spun,
Just a prisoner of the air
Floating and tumbling in turbulence,
Once more being turned around,
At any time expecting love
To cruelly dash me to the ground
Dancing like a feather in the wind
With no solid ground to tread;
While floating over restless waves,
It's the cross current that I dread
A feather.... just floating.... in the wind,
How I fear the hurricane!
The raging winds of love's deceit
That would see my hopes and dreams slain
Twisting and turning, out of control,
Surrender the sole recourse;
Let the winds of love have their way,
Blustering with their awesome force!
Just a feather carried by the wind,
Sanity becomes a blur;
I rise, then I fall helplessly
While begging the wind not to stir!
Mar 23, 2017
Mar 23, 2017 at 12:58 PM UTC
my dad was a workin man
mud on his boots and rust colored hands
cigarette in his mouth and Carhart pants
covered in sawdust from the projects he'd sand
we were family but how he saw us I'll never understand
and there was always my mother so he always needed another plan
we were technically a family, the few of us just us three
in a house like a boxing ring the loving was left up to me
four poor walls held together by two wedding rings begrudgingly
you could starve to death there if you were the one hungry for sympathy
my mom was a violent woman, a true fighter
hot tempered and her temper would start hot fires
at a young age I was inspired to learn to fight back because I was tired
of the beatings, of the yelling, of fake apologies, of the mire
we were a family but how she handled us I will never admire
she wanted us forever but the fates conspired
we were a family through all of the calls to the police
we were a family through the jealousy, the paranoia, and the deepening grief
we were a family that went to war and ignored peace
we were a sick body on it's knees that knew only disease and no relief
then of course we were a sailing ship forced on it's inevitable course
divorce
then us three became him, and her, and me, the source
now I have no recourse to heal those old sores
my dad was a boxer and my mom was a volatile pyre
fourteen years on that noose and fears are all I acquired
what transpired has made me hollow and lonely and scared of today because of the prior
and whoever tells you that you could survive that unscarred is the worst kind of liar
Sep 19, 2012
Sep 19, 2012 at 9:47 PM UTC
Deare God, preserve the innocent
For they have put their trust in thee
They follow nature without recourse
Thou art their Lord, so protect them
They have not harmed anyone
Their sorrows multiply from the
Minds of Men that thou created
Their inheritance is a portion of thy creation
They suffer now without need
Preserve Them, O God: for in thee
They put their last symbol of faith
They have nothing to bargain with
They cannot pay to escape chaos
They would sell their daughters to
Feed their families, with holy tears
For so little freedom is granted the poor
Therefore my heart would be glad
If you spared a few of the poor
The pure, the self-sacrificed, the down-trodden
Remember them too, while nature inherits
The wicked, the industrious, the hoarders
Those profiteers know nothing about you
God, if there is such a thing as a hell
As a punishment for sin, let it be seen
Let the Nations that do wrong be punished
And let their children bear the weight of the stain.
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 10:41 AM UTC
Anger, discontent
are like a house
after work
some place where you wrap yourself
in a security blanket
of irritability
hungry for touch
but misanthropic
can't taste lust
but for the One Unobtainable
can't help her
can't detach
only recourse, lash out
Anger is like a house
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 1:54 PM UTC
The Acolytes come marching in and out and in, out again
Minds befuddles, rationalities amissing, fully indoctrinated
Pathetic Dogs of Attrition dressed all in white, all in pain
Compulsive obsessives, neurotics primed and oxygenated
Scrappers at the bottom of the barrel wants unlawful gain
By hook or crook is their recourse, to that they are mandated
From rhetorics long gone and ideologies forged in days of rain
Our intrepid Confused and Acolytes are soundly medicated
Just march to left, left, left, left and we will ease all your pain
Recognize that the enemies are those that think and are educated
They all claim domain at the top, with kudos, status and fame
While you languish in closed barrels, your poor lives truncated
Those Bosses are all there because they are all Masonic inclined
Doctors, lawyers and Professionals paid cash for Degrees granted
They did no work or study, rich Daddies just paid so they claim
All those Entrepreneurs are Robbers who bankraid unarrested
Because the Police are all masonic and help/share in all the gain
The Royals are Top Mafiosas, with International links atested
So Dumb Acolytes Know the truths and fall with the wise in line
We must regain Power and march left, left so we're not left in vain
The republic shall live because it's 21 Century and we wake in time
We take all from the Secret Society and cut off all our iron chains
Begin by taunting, tormenting and harassing that ****** Wayne
The ****** Prince is the African Mafia Chief and Exploiter kingpin
Sing with me everybody
Viva la Revolution, viva la Revolution
We are clever, all in our White uniforms
We march to the left left left with our two left feet
We know our brains have left us but we go left left
Viva la Revolution, Viva la Revolution, Viva la Jinbba.
Hey! jinbba, jinbaba, hey! jinbba jinbaba, hey! jinbba jinbba
Sing.........
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 5:09 AM UTC
Realization Alliteration Poem
4/23/2013
Radical reforms
Revealed and revered
Reveled in without reserve
Reject rest until wrongs righted
Resistance looks radiant red like radishes
Recently reequipped with righteousness reacting like radiation
Rowdy crowds race like rabbits to meeting rooms
Rain and rapiers can't quell rampaging rallies without recourse
Reserves have been replicated, ready to razzle and rebuke, revenge
Reclaim rusted roofs of the ruins, wrecked in rural rubble's roots
Reality's reign can't be reversed so remember it, refuse to relive it
Run from its reach, relying on the rare reward you've received, a refuge
Recognize that regimes rotate routinely like roadkill riding on rail-cars drinking with rancid rats
Reach for the receiver, become a redeemer, referee your own rehab, require resolute ripples - realization.
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 3:12 AM UTC
Fallen One that fell from grace
Destiny engulfed you in flames
No other recourse but to change
You who tempted that Nazarene
The One some confuse with Seth or Baʿal
Venus is your place.
Your abode among the archangels
No one could take but Yahweh
The forbidden name
You loved Him more than your beautiful face
When ordered to love us feeble mortals more than the Lord of Hosts
Deign was not in your plate
Your phalangeal joints against the archangel Michael
General of the Heavenly Chariots
Lucifer, you of the Order of Music
The One they say buys souls
Michael took what was rightfully yours
On the Earthly plains your fallen angels
Only thought of empires to make.
Purson you probably do not know
Of the Order of Honor and Virtue once upon a time
Sunday stories that are told
God got old
Rest easy Prince don't sweat Judgement Day
Most of us are bound to Hades anyway.
Apr 22, 2019
Apr 22, 2019 at 7:20 PM UTC
Key and a Lock
do you need me to go....?
well i never told you that i was going to leave
now you're stuck here face to face with me
tonight is the night that you suffer from all the
time it took me to recover. just a face i thought
i knew that became my new lover.
what have i been trying to accomplish?
things get blurry.
you told me you loved me
you told me you need me
you told me that you would never ever leave me
.. well what happened?
now you're stuck here to face the pain
that i kept locked deep inside my chest
in a box with a lock that only you held
the key to.
but where did it go? it was swallowed when
you took him to the room and you locked the door
now this box is here forever to stay
like you stuck deep in this game
i thought it was only you that could
save me from this pain.
but it was you
who enforced
the remourse
on this recourse
to shape a new key
..then maybe that box could be unlocked.
..well i was wrong.
you told me you loved me
you told me you need me
you told me that you would never ever leave me
now you can just sit back and watch
as i toss every photo that we ever took
into an ever lasting flame that will burn
each and every corner of those false
memories.
do you want me gone?
you're bound to this case
you wanted to fame
you came with a chain and wrapped it around my heart
the continuous tug that constricts my heart a little more
with each and every lie your lips told
well tonight is the night that this chain
breaks and i wont have to worry about unlocking the box
to release the pain that has been stored for decades
... was this not really happening?
or was this a way my mind was trying to help me cope
with the pain.
i still wont have to worry about finding a new key
because i already had it.
i look down only to find a few pills in my hand.
no one was here
no one to shape a new key
no one to even try and break the lock
but more importantly you weren't here.
there is only one way to break that lock
what have i left to hold.
i didnt't leave a note,
the door was unlocked.
Sep 19, 2013
Sep 19, 2013 at 3:43 AM UTC