"revenged" poems
Never what you wanted
Always in the way
Your words so haunted
By abuse and pain
Tainted with knives
The scars still stain
Weak and rejected
Limpness of a soul
Demolished and confused
Torture so cruel
Like a light in a fire
You spread through my heart
You created a monster
One forever dark
Determination through hate
No one more to despise
These demons eyes
No comprimise
Now it shall be done
Nothing left to be said
I'll paint your life red
Jun 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2015 at 4:12 PM UTC
This is the story of a world at war
From ‘39 to ‘45
The second world storm
It all occurred with Germany
Japan was there, the world was scared
To storm the beach of Normandy
Power struggle with no regrets
Imperialist japan with minor fits
Lashing out to focus on three
“America, China, and the Soviet please”
This led to begin in a new world war
With 2K killed at pearl harbor
The holocaust powered even more
To be ****** to death, until ‘44
June 9th, and yards to go
200 stretched from land to coast
10,000 men that made the march
Across the beach, into the marsh
A revenge that tastes so bitter and sweet
For the surprise attack, on the pearl harbor fleet
The event that took our country to war
It paid with bloodshed, 10,000 hearts torn
And when D-day ceased, and the smoke parted clear
We dropped upon 2 cities
Our own 2 tears
That revenged the fallen
And vanquished the feared
The axis fleet, now defeated and gone
They dispersed their union
For ****** was wrong
And what of Japan?
Well they restored their towns
From their cities destructed…
A full 2 miles around
And to this very day
We weep for the wept
That adopted our tears
And ended up dead
296 billion in debts
At least in today’s dollars and cents
For a country whose heart
Was torn to bits
60 million…
If that’s what it takes…
To conquer the axis…
Their lives, they gave…
...And the war, they won…
...And won from their grave…
And on opposing sides?
To win or to die
Japan, Germany, and Italy reside
With 16 million casualties
They pounded on Poland
The sacked the Soviet
They fought the French
And got all the way to Greece even
They never left the Netherlands
They were the bane of Belgium
They never gave up Norway
Or the liquidation of Luxemburg’s location
They caused a sort of havoc
Everywhere they went
They threatened the world
With everything they sent
They tried to take the Jewish and the handicapped
To hell
And ended up bringing on themselves
A hellish, brutish, world
This is the story of a world at war
From ‘39 to ‘45
The second world storm
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 10:23 AM UTC
Everyday, A New Person
Stop! Lest you think,
This is some poem, of a nature serious
I warn you with supercilious contempt
This is a mischance, a contretemps,
This is a dumb poem, like Suntan Lotion^
Inspired by that silliness's Broadway success,
About how everyday, I awake,
A New Person,
With a new designer hair styling
O Yeah, I gotta grip the sink counter,
When I see how my pillow friends^^
Have revenged themselves the night prior,
Upon awakening, I contemplate suicide by pills
But more labor saving for the undertaker I usually choose
Setting One's Hair On Fire
It be awful, it be ridiculous
That my hair defies gravity
Standing straight up,
After a night of lying down,
This is the product of rocking out to the
Hardest of hard rock n' roll.
Now I am a man,
Re hair and grooming I ain't usually
Prioritizing and swooning,
But get this,
It takes a tube daily,
Of alcoholic gel,
To get my pop,
To do the 'lie flat down flop'
When my woman strokes my hair,
She doesn't think I notice,
How she subtle slides her hand down my shirted arm,
To dispose of the newly acquired kitchen grease,
I sometimes, on really bad hair days,
Need to employ to encapture my Grayed Fleece
No faking joke, my mind out strokes
When I look at what handiwork
Has worked me over,
Multi-directional, punk sensational,
I swear it also has changed colors!
No unrequited love, just requited hate
For my torqued, drugged, twisted hairy fate,
Two minutes to write this idiotic ditty,
Ten minutes to nerve to open my eyes to look twice
At what the hairie fairies mischievously hath wrought,
Is unbalanced, demand a recount, a fair fight sought
Soon it will be clear, if you think this poem amusing,
Be in readiness for an Ode to the Haircut upcoming,
Be in readiness for an opera, entitled naturally,
Get Thee To The Barber of First Avenue
As soon as I get the nerve to leave the bedroom.
Jun 23, 2013
Jun 23, 2013 at 9:09 AM UTC
poetry masquerades under too much
freedom of ineffective
politics, which it does not which to
engage with, namely it's own:
far-left mummification,
the far left mummified its heroes,
the far right cremated theirs...
one took the route to
Prometheus absence as subsequent
lack of camp-fire eagerly hell-bent;
what truth is woman? the woman worthy
of socio-political affairs, or affairs
of paranoid idealism signature sentenced
as counter-argument with haircut stylistics
and tattooing? a healthy visible status,
rather than an unhealthy counter, status
or no status, one ascribed the guillotine phobia,
the second a necessary Buddhist heroism -
both left reward-lost: dream of troll maidens,
dream of perfected bedroom antics with
so much **** reducing acting to naught
and theatre to desperation with the ignited
insignia of bureaucracy rather than
bored harpsichord rebels hash tagging
emily davison for bets and awareness in having
monopoly - of her beauty i'll speak but little,
am i the shopkeeper, the merchant,
easier under the Niqab than for her fancy of ******
taking place... dreadlocks un-kept,
and three signatures on lips that made kissing
a pain... removed, thus revenged...
if i knew woman i'd have kept one...
but since i know none, i kept cats, bypassing women
and imagining children; and all the better
for my liking, such that the world shrunk
to the size of Lichtenstein - oh but the few
buttered friendships are there to be spoken off
in old age... the few that remain have already leveraged you
to bite the worm closest to the heart,
in times when educating yourself equated itself to being shamed;
when education became shame and trivia quizzing,
when education became Latin bulimia
and even that didn't fertilise the earth to spawn
the awaiting, unearthed root for what came to be
known as the chattering colour: as death stood,
in its wintry palace, jokingly mannequin.
Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 8:31 PM UTC
A person sits and cries
Knees together, holding her face
Lips quiver, and tears leak from cracks
Hide from the world
Not just a girl
But full grown
A woman, long
A clock clicks
Wordless in the night
It's not the precision preferred
Everything is not all right
It's face so pretty
Decorated with scrolls
Beautiful in architecture
It tells the time
But cannot really see inside
It's mind isn't shattered
It's still beautiful
Cogs, levers, springs and gears
It can only look at others
Knows something is wrong
It sees the world, all the other faces
Clocks themselves, faces hiding minds
Only hears the tick, click and tock
Sometimes it rains, humidity brings
Another tock, and knows it's off
Just one more tick
Make it work
One has to look past the face
See it's mind, complete
Not the pretty, but
Admire the precision
Mechanical beauty
Revenged emotional
Struggling time
Always trying so hard
Get through the hours
Minutes in seconds
Maybe it's ok, a little slow
A little fast, time makes time
Looking at clocks
Feeling only wrong
But it's the slow and fast
Moments between
When someday, it seems
That ticks and tocks
Patchwork healing
Shrugging, painful seconds
Keep perfect time
The other clocks
Faces hiding broken minds
Look to that grand Ol' tock
See only that it goes
Not its struggle
So in her hands
Tears slide down
Her woman's cheeks
All red, eyes puffy
A mind restrained
She hides her face, not
So all the other clocks
Can all go tick, tock
Click, whir
She only knows her
Ignoring the fact that
Her time is perfect
For everything he needs
Because the beauty of
Elegance is precession
His sense is timeless
Wonder not measured
For hours, creep
Minutes, tick
Seconds, wander
But altogether
She is everything
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 6:14 AM UTC
we miss the mark by blaming modern haste
for all the losses that the old declare
since time's the one thing that we cannot waste
why bother waiting when the one abased
will be revenged when none is left to care
we miss the mark by blaming modern taste
instead of noting that the old displaced
was most unkind and never was quite fair
since time's the one thing that we cannot waste
you ought to leave at once before the taste
of anger drives our guardians all spare
we miss the mark by blaming modern taste
for those disasters that our kind have faced
the ***** magics came on unaware
since time's the one thing that we cannot waste
burning our feet showing our gems were paste
leaving behind only a haze in air
we miss the mark by blaming modern haste
since time's the one thing that we cannot waste
Jun 12, 2010
Jun 12, 2010 at 2:32 PM UTC
When festivals are in town
I certainly feel down
I too want to flaunt
But memories haunt
Avoiding to socialise
Stay away from noise
Choose to be alone
In my way own
Once life of a party
It is all now history
I wish i could mingle
But still remain single
Unexplained rejections
Shocking deceptions
Friends turned back biter
One lone fighter
Embarrassing moments
Negative judgments
Their unkind acts
Willful neglects
Loss of self esteem
Intentional demean
Turn the spirits off
Made me cut off
Couldn't fill the void
Hence the festivals i avoid
Although I never revenged
But now i am changed!
Sep 26, 2017
Sep 26, 2017 at 11:22 PM UTC
Watching the beach
Wander away
Wishing for more,
Than this silence
Only the waves
One by one
On grains of sand
Erasing everything away
How does the sun?
Horrific in stained sky
Honey canvases dreams
Drifting across skies
Romeo saw the truth
Revenged upon his soul
Rattling cans down stairs
Falling, tumbling down, ever
Indigo, reds, all bruised
Into full sails, storming
Ink stained finger tips
Pushing little ships
Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 11:09 AM UTC
"What in the world happened!"
An innocent cliche,
We hear it every day,
At work, at home, at play.
"You don't say!"
A congenial comment?
Perhaps,
but...
Be careful what you say.
It could add to the maelstrom
That's becomes unfriendly fire.
Arguments in... arguments out.
Trash in, trash comes out.
That shouldn't surprise us.
The unseen whisperers make silent decisions,
Unheard among the raging shouts.
Who understands
How it went wrong.
The Why is easy.
But How.
How in the world did it happen?
I can't say.
High School doesn't seem to be enough.
Men feel threatened.
Not enough black hats are being unhorsed.
Women do very well
Walking over coals and broken glass,
In stilettos, clogs, mules,
Bare footed.
They will be revenged.
How in God's name did this happen?
Such unwarranted blasphemy.
Oct 8, 2024
Oct 8, 2024 at 6:49 PM UTC
My thoughts were divided,
myself were made into two.
I don't know what happened
between me and you.
I cling on you like I was a child,
longing for a mother's love.
I can't deny what I feel inside,
'coz I really think you are my love.
My life was shattered
when I remembered my past
My memories that were scattered
were returned to me at last!
When I came to you, I was hurt,
I was slapped by the truth.
That you can't remember me
No matter what I do.
My heart was crushed.
All I think about is you.
And I know it is rushed,
but I want you to acknowledged me too
If this is revenged, so be it
But remember, I don't want to quit
If I loose myself for you to remember, so be it
Afterall, being forgotten hurts a little bit.
---shakazaqui 11-27-17
Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 9:11 PM UTC
Self made beast I smiled you smiled back looked away you stabbed me I loved you you cheated I forgave you you revenged I wept bitterly sought comfort you used me fragile empty heart betrayed murdered inside I wish I can move on your words dance in my head memories too cold days too bitter a beast I shall become your head my lunch.
Oct 16, 2015
Oct 16, 2015 at 5:38 PM UTC
loving before
marriage
made with a
good intention
was still, a bad decision
Coz
in love
only Good is practiced
and bad is forgiven….
in marriage
good is taken for granted
bad is revenged…
Jun 28, 2016
Jun 28, 2016 at 9:56 PM UTC
I can feel it,
Muscles pulling at my mouth,
My smile is lit,
I have my old mouth,
It smiles, it jokes, it breathes,
I am back,
Revenged my thieves,
Found their shack,
And killed them,
Strangled their necks,
Drained them,
Now I know what’s next,
To win back what was mine,
I’m not fearful to walk this line.
-May 1st 2013
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 11:43 PM UTC
Re words:
rejoint my conscious self,
reiterate, as it is late, I am old,
reread
my prior poems, rewrite them, indeed,
rebuild them, redo them in their entirety,
so you can resell them and be rediscovered!
retake them, rekindle & rearrange in new combinations,
rewarmed, you are re-rewarded in their reassembly,
again reabsorb the moment from wells beneath your skin tissue,
recall the prescient exactitude of what you were then feeling,
readjusted for today’s new filters, recalculate the cost,
replace the cast with renewed images, refreshed faces,
new alpha dogs.
if you can resell them, they will rebuy them, no one the wiser,
thus, regain the old glory, redemption, no need to repent,
just rejoice and sleep another hundred years.
revenged.
Aug 17 2022 11:01 PM
Nov 5, 2022
Nov 5, 2022 at 8:59 AM UTC
Over my deepest flesh
There is something I hide behind my smile
Ever since my sufferings started...
At First its too hard to pretend
that everything's alright and I taught that
if I can't manage to keep these thing inside
everything will be remain miserable...
My faith,hope,love or even everything I own
will eventually void by these thing and
turn everything in to guilt and hatred that I never ever wanted to feel...
Because I already done with that side... But its keeps pursuing behind...
I've to resist these darkest side
Before its turn my way again to its glide...
The Side that I hated most....
Is always inside trying a countless attempts
to bring me in the bottomless hole....
Just like a cave that's has no escape...
Or an illness that's has no cure...
It's always there waiting to your weakest days....
When everyone turning back on you... When everyone judge you...
And when everyone blame you...
The Calling of that Dark side you always tried to blur... That's Whispering "Revenged"...
Mar 27, 2018
Mar 27, 2018 at 3:56 PM UTC
...After fire
In mirror I saw
Bandaged face
Looked raw
You seemed sickened
For what you saw
A pretty face
Not anymore
The fire revenged
And let my skin tore
I was same inside
An ugly fame
You left me outside
Cause of shame
With bald head
Withered skin shed
Lashes and brows
All damaged dead
A state of blank
When you left
On a verge of
Crazy and crank
Days past, months
Then years
Doctors tried best
On my appearance
Finally after years
I walk without fear
But these eyes fill up
With uncontrollable tear
I am new,
But not forgotten
You left me saying
My face was rotten
You judged me
By my appearance
Which in years has
Drowned in disappearance
I have long hair,
Beautiful brows and lashes
With you gone, left me with flashes
My life now, with unfilled dashes...
©sim
Jan 15, 2018
Jan 15, 2018 at 4:44 AM UTC