"remorselessly" poems
So I'm writing a fiction novel
Cool, what's It about?
Well, it's set in a dystopian society.
So not very cheerful. Tell me about the society.
There are multiple different governments that disagree with each other, millions die everyday, people are tortured, some people are even killing themselves because of diseases of the mind, sometimes people hurt each other bad enough emotionally they traumatize them. People still judge each other based on things they can't change and your beliefs can get you killed. People shoot other people for no reason and there are always nuclear weapons pointed at each other. Crazy people and worse, some sane people ****** people remorselessly and so many people hate each other.
Sounds awful, what's it called?
Reality.
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 11:20 AM UTC
This is how it goes
your hands will be proxy for mine
my hands will be proxy for yours
your fingers my fingers
and my fingers yours
what I describe, you enact
told in detail so exact
Just to begin
I squeeze your *******
knead and pinch
tweak a ******
give it a tug
Stroke your tummy
work over your thighs
move up the inner
where skin is smooth
circle around, moving in
till soft contours are caressed
through pants that burn
to be removed
that pain you to wear
and I see in my mind
as you describe
the spreading, darkening patch
that fills the gusset
Now they're pulled down
removed quickly, completely
and you are revealed
spread, opened, shameless
Gentle fingertips tease
dance in circles, barely touching
yet the fire within grows
back and forth, round and round
dance the fingertips
as both reciprocate
with growing pace
and firmer touch
I hear you gasp down the line
and your breathing quickens
as you hear mine
as your excitement fuels mine
as mine fuels yours
in our feedback loop of lust
And I tell you how
my fingertip would give way
to tonguetip if I could
that I can taste you
in my imagination
fragrant, salty sweetness
with musky undertones
the tip of my tongue now circling
then flicking back and forth
beating out the rhythm
that you best harmonise with
bringing forth your moans
Then darting down, back
between wet, glistening folds
exploring each ridge and valley
working remorselessly
Breathing faster now
with animal grunts and moans
directions of pleasure gasped
breathless down the phone
As fingers again
take the lead
find the opening
slip readily within
probe, explore, ****
find that place
on your front wall
yes, just that spot
that's a little rougher
and feels sooo goood
Add a second finger
working and *******
licking and rubbing
moaning and gasping
barely intelligible now
...yess...more...yess...ohhh
are all that have meaning
Finger three joins one and two
then the pressure builds
demanding release
and shaking and thrusting
grows to shuddering
and...yes...yesss...sooo clooose
******* faster furiously
till we both explode
hearing each other's
voicing of our ecstasy
in language intelligible
only in this one context
Brains and voices return
as we bask in the afterglow
and what passes between us then
in those moments
is the deepest intimacy of all
Cynthia Pauline Jones 01/02/2014
Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 7:31 AM UTC
you and me -
we were like a train wreck waiting to happen
like watching animal planet by yourself late at night
about a lion stalking young gazelle in the sahara
and trying to turn your head
when he goes in for the ****
but you can't
you always told me,
"hey, love is pain"
but this kind of pain hurt so bad
it felt good
i liked it when you ripped my heart out
so swiftly and remorselessly
i was your conquest,
and you,
my conquerer
the lines you told me
the last day we spoke
i now have so religiously memorized
and i play on repeat
over,
and over,
and over again
and ever since
i haven't wanted to wait for another train wreck to happen again
Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 11:13 PM UTC
Blasphemous black cloud, though robust in look, just vapor proud,
You borrow belligerence from swirling west wind's boldness,
Remorselessly you prevent the Sun's extent of rule by limitless light,
You are malevolent to the world to whom sun is the only visible God,
Benevolently ruling the earth, synchronizing the cycles with his moves,
You only have a life too short, not fully aware of your own limits
Or taking in to account, the effulgence of the sun sustaining all,
Why rebel, ever thought about the result of such an impulsive act?
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 10:23 AM UTC
The sad thing is
I could have justified my instruction
with the simplest of reasons.
I would not have asked
a harmful or a wicked task of him
and I could have explained that
with perfect clarity.
But in the instant that he asked 'Why?'
my patience failed
and I said, 'Because I told you to.'
The implied threat was sufficient
and the task was done, satisfactorily.
If I had only known
that I would become one in a long line
planting furrow after furrow of bitter seeds
in this young man's head,
each of which would grow
into the toxic blossom of blind obedience
I would have checked myself that day.
But I did not.
And any inquest worth its salt
would line me up beside him,
beside parents, teachers, priests,
drill sergeants, generals, presidents
A line of dominoes
aimed remorselessly
at a smiling young woman with a placard
in a park, in Istanbul.
Jun 6, 2013
Jun 6, 2013 at 8:25 AM UTC
All of my life has been a search
For things I could not see
For matters founding in my heart
For things that I could be
I sold my home and life
For principiality
But everything was worth the price
And Im remorselessly
Yet I wonder now and then
Whenever I am asked again
What I have answered once
Though I walked freely down that path
And there is no regret
and yet
I wonder what I felt inside
What caused my mind to set
This way along the past
What craving caused my vast
Amount of ruthlessness
I lost my time, with no remorse,
And all of my appeal
The breaking clocks may have been worse
But still, I could'nt feel
Nor understand
what Ive been searching for
And when I carried on my way
I lost myself in forlorn days
Where I found something new
I never had been searching for
And yet I felt that something grew
Inside of me
That let me fear
The things about to come
For I got lost,
found by someone,
Something that changed my mind
I didnt want to lose that fast
Nor leave it all behind
And for the first time I did fight
I changed the clockwork of my mind
I chose a place, a time a side
And wonder about all my life
About decisions, thoughts and creeds
I owned in future pasts
For any deed
I would regret
And yet
I wonder
What have happened
to my heart
Sep 15, 2019
Sep 15, 2019 at 11:17 AM UTC
*Do you see my exterior and marvel
at its ability to capture the weak pupil?
If my skin is but a blanket to cover
you on your lonely nights of desire
then leave my presence.
Look at me and desire to
dissect my brain to find my most horrid
memories that I cannot face alone, and
walk me through the eerie graveyard (my mind) with
your hand in mine whispering “It’s okay”.
Look at me and desire to
open the doorknob where my eyes used to
lie on my face, wanting to enter the world
of perilous ghosts that have lingered in
my soul, and sleigh the hungry monsters
relentlessly pulling me in their darkness.
Look at me and desire to
remove my ribs to reach my fragile beating
heart full of dark secrets, fear and uncertainty.
Place upon it a healing kiss that will render
it impervious to all that tries to break it.
Look at me and desire to
stay by my hopeless side when I begin to drown
in melancholic oceans, as life will have overwhelmed
my delicate being.
Look at me and desire to
kiss my mouth much ardently and never feign
your love for me, for I will always be true.
Look at me and desire to
accept all about my being that I wish to replace
with something greater. Love me when my demons
begin to claw at my vision, leaving the world in my
perception to be horrifying and empty.
Look at me and desire to
tell me that I am Enough and all that you need
and could ever want when I look at my sorrowful
reflection and begin to believe otherwise.
Please, I ask of you
(whomever shall be bewitched by my presence)
do not desire my exterior until you have fully
dissected my interior because I can assure you
my darkness will remorselessly swallow you whole.*
Nov 30, 2013
Nov 30, 2013 at 9:21 AM UTC
Behold me, in my chiffon, gauze, and tinsel,
Flitting out of the shadow into the spotlight,
And into the shadow again, without a whisper!--
Firefly's my name, I am evanescent.
Firefly's your name. You are evanescent.
But I follow you as remorselessly as darkness,
And shut you in and enclose you, at last, and always,
Till you are lost,--as a voice is lost in silence.
Till I am lost, as a voice is lost in silence. . .
Are you the one who would close so cool about me?
My fire sheds into and through you and beyond you:
How can your fingers hold me? I am elusive.
How can my fingers hold you? You are elusive?
Yes, you are flame, but I surround and love you,
Always extend beyond you, cool, eternal,
To take you into my heart's great void of silence.
You shut me into your heart's great void of silence. . .
O sweet and soothing end for a life of whirling!
Now I am still, whose life was mazed with motion.
Now I sink into you, for love of sleep.
1k
Light breeds shadow
In the form of fear
Consuming my immortality bit by bit
Creating a fiend
That guzzle up my happiness
Till the deepest core of my conscience
Remorselessly
Piecemeal
I am dying from my own trepidation
That agitates me
Whether to choose malevolence
That is sweet and warming
Or to choose benevolence
That is pain and suffering
Only the saint's heart will find its way
With the least tainted loopholes
Gifted by the brute to the paradise god has created
Destitute and feeling obselete
Failed to be absolute
I seclude myself
To a silence so deafening
And the temperature is dropping
While the loneliness is creeping
In fetal position
On this oversize king bed
With blue bed shed
But no blanket
Vainer, i thought.
Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 10:29 AM UTC
Behold me, in my chiffon, gauze, and tinsel,
Flitting out of the shadow into the spotlight,
And into the shadow again, without a whisper!-
Firefly's my name, I am evanescent.
Firefly's your name. You are evanescent.
But I follow you as remorselessly as darkness,
And shut you in and enclose you, at last, and always,
Till you are lost,-as a voice is lost in silence.
Till I am lost, as a voice is lost in silence. . .
Are you the one who would close so cool about me?
My fire sheds into and through you and beyond you:
How can your fingers hold me? I am elusive.
How can my fingers hold you? You are elusive?
Yes, you are flame, but I surround and love you,
Always extend beyond you, cool, eternal,
To take you into my heart's great void of silence.
You shut me into your heart's great void of silence. . .
O sweet and soothing end for a life of whirling!
Now I am still, whose life was mazed with motion.
Now I sink into you, for love of sleep.
801
the bitters of winter
visited this very day
upon tender shoots of grass
its coldness did lay
an icy unpleasantness
which remorselessly kills
whatever lies under
its acrid chill
winter will reign over
these parts for many days
and its frosty cover
will have its willful way
the warming feel of summer
gone for a while
replaced by winter's
harsh freezing bile
Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 7:37 AM UTC
What's greater than spoken words,
Yet poets flip them seamlessly?
What's Sharper than a Samurai's swords,
Yet great warriors used them bravely?
What's better than a woman's tender body,
Yet some men abuse them repeatedly?
What's purest than the tears she sheds
Yet it flows when she sobs quietly?
What's better than a mother's love
Yet she gives it so unconditionally?
What's more precious than a human life,
Yet many men live ever so carelessly?
What's more disappointing than Donald Trump,
Yet some Americans love him dearly?
Who came up with the idea of slavery,
Yet the world refuses to apologize openly?
Who invented the deadly assault rifles,
That people ****** innocent kids with remorselessly?
Who actually built the pyramids
That to this day, stands rigidly?
What's the function of the U.N,
Why are nations warring perpetually?
Why is it so impossible for mankind
To have peace, live and love harmoniously?
Where's justice for my queen mother
And the innocent people killed senselessly?
Why don't we appreciate the creation of this beautiful earth,
Why do we continue to destroy and mismanage it simultaneously?
Who came up with the concept of religion,
How did God Almighty become
A part of the prosperity Gospel industry?
Why do Rastafarians
Call him Jah,
Who are the true Christians,
Why do Muslims call him Allah?
Who named the Lord Jesus,
And why do priests proclaim
Peace unto us?
Who are Hindus,
What is the story about krishna?
Why do others worship
Budha?
Why do witch doctors
call him Babba,
Why do others believe
In no God,
But pray to the universe?
Why don"t they honor his word,
Yet from the bible quote a verse,
And when things falls apart,
They cry in his name?
What really is that?
Oh what a contradiction
And a big shame!
IvanBrooksPoetry©
7/6/2018
Jun 8, 2018
Jun 8, 2018 at 4:13 AM UTC
Candlelight dancing off the rippling bathwater,
The steam rising off it with an aroma
So sweet,
From the herbs steeped in it,
I’m a goddess,
An empress,
And my nectar is the red wine
Chilled to my preference,
The delicate stem dangling from my fingertips
And I watch.
As the coolness drifts off the glass in lazy tendrils,
Dancing over the surface of the heated water.
I part my lips and exhale gently onto the curve of it
Until the twirling fingers of cold opposing the heat
Swirl desperately,
My breath is the master,
The air the puppet,
And I tilt my head at the first notes of a song that draws me back,
Back to a liason in the dark
With an exotic lover,
The French words slipping over my skin
As silkily as his lips did,
Each verse reminding me of how we celebrated those verses then,
Raucously
Remorselessly
Hedonistically,
Almost as I do now,
With my ambrosia and my rose petals dancing among sprigs of herbs on the water,
With an orchestra hailing my memory,
All by the light of countless,
Flickering
flames.
Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 10:45 AM UTC
Deep in the forest
Fed by the soil
Nourished by the sun and rain
It etched itself onto the sky.
As it receded from the ground
Its wings mourning the upward drift
Retained the earthbound bond
Passed the sky’s nectar into the soil,
Showering gratitude by casting its shadow
For all down below to soothe their weary frames,
Sheltering the potent ones from ravages up
So they like it one day grow into a behemoth.
Once clothed mankind’s nudeness
Now remorselessly denuded by the axe of progress
Twisted gnarled deformed at man’s pleasure,
Wizened mummy, in our room a showpiece furniture!
Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 6:05 AM UTC
A mothers love is like nothing else in this world
they keep you safe, they love you till the end
you are a part of them
A mothers love knows no law
it knows no pity
her love will never leave you to be alone
A mothers love remorselessly knocks down all that stand in its path
they will protect you, for you are their soul
she will go though hell and back for you
if this is so..... then why do some leave
why are some mothers not there to protect,
to love,
to be there for you...
Oct 9, 2012
Oct 9, 2012 at 2:20 AM UTC
I saw a man who calls himself a man of God
He stand on towers and preaches to hundreds
Forever in his coat pocket is a Bible tucked in good
Staunch man of the community with no bare threads
But he couldn't look me in the eye even if he easily could
For he knows that I know he now carries a burdensome dread
Conscienceless and remorselessly he sold his soul to Satan's hood
Yet to be a sham and testify before Yahweh whose true blood bled
This man of 'God' came like others to cast a stone
Robed as scribes he pontificated in Temples scolding sinners
Grace himself as Righteous and spoke in revered gentle tones
In secret he was Iscariots aided by his Eve to dine with evil planners
Callously he sat in judgement deceiving truth and vilifying thrones
Whence he could in pious wisdom as Pilate dissent in fitting
manners
What man of God delights with ravenous hordes to devour bare
bones
My God preaches loving your neighbours not becoming Hate
fanners
I saw a man of God today but he couldn't look me in the eyes
Dec 24, 2018
Dec 24, 2018 at 1:07 PM UTC
MUNIYA
One Summer day of May
Gulmohar, bright and gay
Red blossoms hugging her
Embracing the tiny visitor
Feathered, brown coloured
Small sized, sparkling eyed
Gregarious and melodious
Muniya, the bird vivacious.
She merrily flew in and out
With twigs, figs in her snout
Framing her cosy little nest
By putting in the very best
She laid eggs, pearly white
Sentiments intensely bright
Mystic Muniya motivated
Elated, she daily incubated.
That noon, warm oppressively
All birds screamed aggresively
Slender satan climbed devilishly
Muniya fought back vigourously
Birds pecked the foe ferociously
Serpent slithered surreptitiously
Gulping the eggs remorselessly
All unborn perished noiselessly.
Muniya wailed loudly, bitterly
Her world shattered suddenly
Pain, loss penetrating the soul
Depressing, difficult to console
Emotions enveloping the avian
Her unborn drifted into oblivion
Misty eyed, she fled mournfully
Misty eyed, I prayed soulfully.
One fine bright summer day of May
To my surprise on my verandah lay
Muniya, her eggs in salubrious nest
Fervent feelings felt, of fest, of zest
Venturing in and out gregariously
Savouring sprouts, seeds ravenously
Muniya nourishing new beginnings
Making new innings, new winnings.
@ Preeti Pathak
Apr 27, 2023
Apr 27, 2023 at 2:23 AM UTC
while you are
on the road to
somewhere-far-away-from-here
i am barely awake
on my bedroom
floor
watching my ceiling fan
dizzy itself
trying not to think
of you.
i really really
*******
miss your
voice,
(but it's ok,
i didn't deserve it
in the first
place.)
Sep 21, 2015
Sep 21, 2015 at 3:50 PM UTC
*How can I simplify these
ineffable words
imprisoned in my heart?
How can I gift wrap these
profound emotions
and place them your hands?
How can I find the valor
in my brittle spine
to tell you that I crave you
(want you; need you)?
How can I keep the image of
my mundane face
in your eccentric mind?
How will I know that when I return
I will be able to drown
in the entirety of your existence?
I need to know that what I feel
isn't simply for naught.
I’m reaching for one last glance
(touch; kiss).
I will be waiting (for you)
to unravel this uncertainty
and have what life so remorselessly
threw at me in the smallest of quantities.
darling, wait for me.*
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 7:03 PM UTC
Connecting with the Umma
In space and time,
Prostrate in prayer
Contained and comforted
By the mosque’s sanguine light,
The ordered lines of acolytes
In reverential rows.
All herein was ordered and controlled,
Gender’s appropriately separated,
The air devoid of ****** musk,
All done correctly to dusty text.
Outside, oh outside, is chaos
The kaffir engaged in godless behaviour
Flesh exhibited in defiance of god’s
Thousand clearly expressed rules
Remorselessly recorded within
The rippling shadows of sand.
That unknown form sitting in judgement
In a heavenly court, unseen and oblique,
But remarkably like the courts of men.
Tainted thoughts of the unbeliever-
Intimate touches in the moonlight,
Caresses in the sunlight
Laughing, singing, and drinking,
Unaccustomed to strict religious
Contemplation, the rightful punishments
That occasion neglect.
The serpentine gaiety unravelling his solemn mind.
He held his throbbing
Head as he released himself from prayer;
Walking outside the women’s exposed flesh
Gave him murderous ideas.
Aug 25, 2017
Aug 25, 2017 at 5:06 PM UTC
He worked quite precariously
Plucking, unthreading, tearing
Until the sheer glimmer dimmed
The needle bobbed with rhythm
As he'd untwine multitudinous threads
And mercilessly string them along
Patterns so intricate yet so flawed
The carnal ambivalence stitched
In the lush red silk
Yet tailor beware
As your patterns removed the seams
Of a work so beautiful
That you left remorselessly
In tatters.
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 7:37 PM UTC
Amorphous, dove-form, on rink;
I was once as free as the wind,
and I consider the day’s unremitting reminder:
bent light – falling flat on my dull skin.
Wryly enough, the mornings are pried open,
remorselessly, like a note discovered obsolete in secret
gaps: why would such unopened unraveling
be secret? A persistent memory?
I gaze by the barricade, children fluttering
almost in flight at the city center’s space,
possibly conjuring themselves up as birds
or words freed – such scene requires several audiences,
whereas adjacently crooked, I stare inanimately,
which requires no spectator, possibly dreaming
a shadow, an old man wiping his reading glass clean,
or the squalor of the heart decanted in the heat of transitories;
acute on the night-watch, I will rejoin them
like old haunts finding new-fangled skin to scar.
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 1:50 PM UTC
By Garpal stream the young men came
Decades before the flood
On Garpal field they started the game
Quenching the grass with blood.
Down by the hill, near the copse, they lie,
The first to score was the first to die.
Every year the young men came
Where the roses and dandelions bud
Eager to play the game
Decades before the flood.
Beyond the hedge these young men lie,
The last to score was the last to die.
It rained before Advent, it rained after Lent
The rain fell on pasture and town,
The interminable water did not relent
But poured remorselessly down
By the end of the year, under the thundering light,
The world was a place of night.
A sodden land bereft of men
Garpal field was covered with weeds
As the women waited for the sun again
Spreading a blanket of seeds.
They waited as glorious golden rays
Fell during everlasting unending days.
The sprouting seeds grew tall and thin
Turning slowly into beautiful men
In a country filled to the brim
With cattle, wheat and fruit again.
Beyond Garpal stream where the rushes grew
The youths strolled over the grey diaphanous dew.
By Garpal stream the young men came,
Decades before the flood,
On Garpal field they started the game
Quenching the grass with blood.
Down by the hill, near the copse, they lie,
The first to score was the first to die.
Apr 4, 2017
Apr 4, 2017 at 5:04 PM UTC
*On a fateful day, the ‘Establishment’ sought volunteers
Not wanting to be out done by my vying peers
My hand went up and - all said ‘three cheers’
I thought I’d soon be handsome like Richard Gere.
Thus in the lab began the genetic engineering
A needle here, a chop there and additional gearing
The docs remorselessly toiled on me
Treated me like a zombie I could see.
“Success! Success!” was their sudden shout
I looked down and could see a sprout
I said “what’s this, I am half a tree?”
They said ‘silly’ from human ******* we set you free.
Alas! Instead of ‘Richard Gere’, they left me with roots
As a tree now, I go where I please without boots.*
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 12:09 PM UTC
the bitters of winter
hath called this very day
upon tender shoots of grass
its coldness did lay
an icy unpleasantness
which remorselessly kills
whatever lies under
its acrid chill
winter shall reign over
these parts for many a day
and its frosty cover
shall have its willful way
the warming feel of summer
gone for some while
replaced by winter's
harsh freezing bile
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 7:50 PM UTC