"savaging" poems
I once found that,
Elusive, 'silent blip',
It was deep inside,
Hiding all the time,
Lying in my mind,
As I lie to myself,
What a fool I am.
On realization,
It pops, vanishes,
The feeling remains,
Demons, those emotions,
Haunting, wracking, savaging,
Biting at the soul,
Hacking me to death.
Please, give it back,
That inner-silence,
I’m sorry, so sorry,
I was young, stupid,
Welcomed seduction,
Now though, older,
Wisdom exposes truth.
No going back,
Nope, one bite only,
When passion screams,
We hear nothing else,
We choose not to hear,
I once found that,
Elusive, 'silent blip'.
Goodbye everybody.
© Paul Chafer 2014
Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 6:36 AM UTC
I am a woman , I should be timid - They say
I am a human , I know no limit - I say,
My existence is not meant for your judgment
Crushing me is not a sign of your triumphant,
My love for you has always been abundant
Why am I the one to make all the adjustments,
Look into my eyes , you'll see a twinkle
Savaging it , is so sinful,
My demand for freedom makes you reluctant
Clothed in societal norms , I have to bear its repercussion,
How are the governing laws so different for Both
What makes you so nervous of my growth,
Why do I have to fight for what is my right
Why do you enjoy my plight,
Being submissive is declared my attire
No one hears what my heart desires,
I am not the one to dance on your note
I am a volcano that erupts on my own,
I don't demand anything extraordinary
All I seek is equality,
Equality to Breathe without fear
Equality to be safe my dear!!!!!
Aug 3, 2017
Aug 3, 2017 at 3:36 AM UTC
Our love was beautifully vapid
The evanescence of it; pure misery
But I could not stop to wait for you
Because you were a virgin-the most innocent of the pure
And corruption trickled out my veins
it was melted wax
I saw you-holding the unlit cigarette to your mouth-never inhaling
but the temptation
it empaled you like a thorn
Your parents. Your highly respected reputation, will you burn it?
Will you **** her?
Will you **** me?
Can you withstand the allure of the forbidden fruit?
Salvation; you want to be saved
You want **** the lust that veils you
And I want to preserve it
But it slips from my grip like a drunken bottle of whiskey
And you return to your savaging chasteness
And I can no longer wait for the day your loosened morals
Protrude like a needle
Nov 22, 2013
Nov 22, 2013 at 11:55 AM UTC
Loving you loving me
Is this a dream?
I have you here
But I can tell you want to be there.
You savaging soul
Just go.
But I'll still be here
Loving you loving me
Wishing this was just a dream.
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 7:10 PM UTC
The Ice Of Poetry
the ice of poetry,
glassine smooth
but
charged hardness,
hits you, ****** you,
unexpected snowball in the face,
the fire of poetry,
cherished phrase, a patois,
comfort food when
whole winter skies
swallow you bleak
mutual contradictions of poetry
savaging the soothed ego,
revealing the raging id
what's in a word anyway?
Jun 16, 2013
Jun 16, 2013 at 8:39 AM UTC
the ice of poetry,
glassine smooth
but
charged hardness,
hits you, ****** you,
the unexpected snowball in the face,
the fire of poetry,
cherished phrase, a patois,
comfort food when
whole winter skies
swallow you bleak
mutual contradictions of poetry
savaging the soothed ego,
revealing the raging id
what's in a word anyway?
quite a lot, quite a lot...
Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 9:43 AM UTC
She decorated her soul with dreams:
the kind that can't be stolen,
not even by the inexorable march of age
which eventually robs you of yourself.
Her love was a massacre;
savaging everything in it's path,
but with a beauty that you forgave her
before she apologized.
Her eyes were lilly pads,
and her voice
was the crunch of snow underfoot,
and while you couldn't believe that she could be hurt
you knew from the moment you met her
that you'd be her unneeded Don Quixote
Jun 27, 2017
Jun 27, 2017 at 2:21 AM UTC
Dear shattered moon
Let your pieces drag the sun
Shooting stars forming rainbows
Untill the dawn has begun
Jigsaws in formations
Millions of dreams to explore
Basking in the rays of you
Reflecting the waves on shore
Towers leaning, obtaining
The warm décor
Flowers on the open air
The smiles painted under a dusty floor
Little whispers of art
Black holes in empty rooms
Constellations in the moon
Loves evaporating fumes
To be not one with ones self
Half and half inside your coffee cup
A difference between
Six feet under and a million miles up
Never disturbing
The content of the beast
The savaging lust
The constant of the feast
Patient of a rendering love
Picture frames holding foreign lands
I could only roam in silent days
When darkness and light came hand in hand
Drown not just the stars
But the strings attached
Puppets of a sinner
The bridge collapsed
Mighty hands are the only hands
That could build the moon again
Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 1:18 AM UTC
As his eyes bled the pain from out his ribs, cracked by my words harsher than the wind biting his wet cheeks, I smiled at the image of my face reflected in his tears.
As he walked away, his feet scraped the gutter as the knife still in between his bones, left to rest until his mother's warmth has melted the steel, her spirit embosomed it with millions of breaths reviving his flesh.
I watched him go, my body shivering as my mouth preparing chants of scorns meant to burn every broken heart passing by my wicked tongue Glowing, glowing as the God it believed it had become.
In bed, I stuck the knife into my own soul, my body trembling at the scent of my blood drained before my eyes
Sobbing, sobbing at the sight of my ribs never healing in the absence of my mother's arms.
I yelled to the roof staring back in silence, clanging out the pain stuffed in the son of my sorrow,
the son,
my throat,
exhaling every raging letter ever thrown in my face by fellow men,
by friends,
by a world,
savaging my soul before I had time to realize it was mine.
Why, I ask the shadow laughing from the floor,
why are we raised to believe that words like knives will save our minds while wonders and beautiful nights will destroy our lives? That only hard skin and harder tongues can survive in the concrete sky, kindness only leading to an early grave where no one will wish you farewell for your heavenly stay.
The shadow laughed.
The roof kept quiet.
I left the knife where it belonged, shoved through bones into a broken heart,
hoping it's tears made up for his lost blood. The stone will remain in of the son of my sorrow until my tongue's wickedness turns to dust in the beautiful night.
I will keep crying, until the mouth reflected in my tears turns into a smile.
I will keep silent, until I learn how to pronounce kindness.
Mar 10, 2013
Mar 10, 2013 at 1:20 PM UTC
My mind is blank
This is the third piece of paper
That I crumpled.
I don't know what to think.
I used to have faith in things
In humanity, in love.
But **** life stings
I'm burning my trust in the stove.
I used to breathe slowly
Enjoying the fresh air
But now pollutants are killing me softly
The atmosphere's their lair.
Mother Earth is dying
Humans savaging
Doesn't anyone realize the link
If she dies, she'll bring along everything?
I used to feel young and free
Without hate, without despair.
But the world worries me
How long until we all start to care?
Jul 26, 2016
Jul 26, 2016 at 10:07 PM UTC
we were the best of friends
always together amidst our relationships
music ringing in our minds
from childhood till now,highness fills me when I'm with you
but what lurks within (everyone's) my dark side,
a monster so horrible and and full of lust and malice
i savaged thee while you begged for me to release thy body
and almost killed you when suddenly you spat me with wood
i woke up with my memory ,
lacerated with what happened last night
you were scared but you told me
i ran from you, ashamed and lost dignity to live
i told myself,
I'm a monster, a selfish and evil kind
even though you forgave me with what happened
my feeling is suicidal, and forget that we knew each other
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 1:11 AM UTC
let me rant awhile
for what good it may do
to open the valve
if only briefly
for as one wave
after another
of sheer indignity
is reported
survivor guilt
courses through me
yet even this
was not mine to choose
for I don't happen to
have been born
Jewish
or black -
and that doesn't make me
more -
or less -
worthy of dignity
but I can observe closely
what it is like
to be pilloried
and persecuted
for one's peaceful contacts
and communications
holding personal beliefs
at odds with a regime
and a rage
courses through me
on contemplating
'man's inhumanity to man' -
though written long ago
that the world would be so,
where hatred would replace
kindness, love, empathy
I deplore the way
an ideology
of one disturbed,
possessed person
can lead to millions
donning a uniform,
henceforth labelling
one sector of humankind
'persona non grata'
to be mercilessly pursued
in legitimized genocide,
even savaging
little children
frightened lads
caught on the run
made to hold arms
for food
mamas with babes in arms
forced to watch them
dashed to pieces
then buried alive underground
their infant cries still heard
while their mothers were ***** -
as beleaguered, beautiful Estonia
was brought to it's knees...
and I weep and rant
feel knives in my gut
blood pulsing swift -
then take hold of myself
seek to understand,
if that be possible,
even a smidgen
of such distorted thinking
to delve into the mind
of a hateful deviate
for but a moment
and remain intact
so I scan his written mantra
and come to see that
all deeply held convictions
must have at its core
RESPECT
lest it attract the weak
and easily led,
or those forced into submission
seeking to simply stay alive
and they find themselves
taking part
in a forest fire
of polluted propaganda
a flood of merciless
devastation,
while their deluded leader
continues to spout forth venom
in the distorted notion
that they would actually
be acting in society's
best interests
or worse still:
'in the name of God'
(Acts 5:39;
Hosea 4:1-3)
Feb 16, 2019
Feb 16, 2019 at 5:30 AM UTC
Which is my church with its green leaves, brown grass
and pine’s bark, all foresting in one motion.
I shall forest rituals of sacrifice,
but without Catholicizing faces drawn
from dark Crusading and my exiling.
Annaling to mark the sun’s solstice for Eastering
and holying days, the dew
coalescing upon the darkening and browning grass
at midnight and cooling air
arching constellations
and the mooning of the night: the cue
to lying for rest
by the small pool in this placing or
to strike, savaging at prey.
Owling as it does, darting as it does,
from a bed of branches, crying,
soundlessly shooting at a forest mouse, leaves
rustling for this night’s Nativity,
this one lifts its butterflying wings
like the soul’s silhouette
taken by an angeling force to heaven.
After owling, angeling, butterflying,
one must create Jesus as a verb.
Having witnessing these things,
limits are paining, as are knowings and doings.
The mouse must have been distracting
this owl from its offspring, thus it was Christing:
sacrificing itself for its children, thus fathering.
Seeing angels fluttering under the moonlight,
Hairshirting is my Church after living here,
after travelling through East of Eden in daylight.
Simplifying the Word---so heartwrenching---near
dawn or dusk, being as a penumbra’s cusp
I am Giotto’s halo in human form, keeper
of the haze, smoke, storm, and most of all, cup
from my own despairing.
Always there more to God than pain.
Churching myself is my work, thus by expressing
this foresting, owling, angeling, butterflying,
I narrate my life’s kingdom.
Only beautiful words for my Beatrice, Florence,
and re-Edening.
Jul 5, 2016
Jul 5, 2016 at 7:33 PM UTC
War makes its’ wicked artistry
Upon the flesh of humanity
Tearing skin
Inversing flesh
Transposing bone and skin
Organs and eyeballs
Such a sickening alchemy
And even when
The flesh remains
Untainted by such warring ways
The soul destruction reigns
Savaging mortal wits
Breaking stern hearts
And turning gentle folk
Into to mad man made monsters
All who come and go
And even those
Who come no more
Are disfigured by the
Horrors of war
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 8:40 AM UTC
Where did you come from and why would you come here.
Why would you come here. Poisonious secretions of enemy leakers, savaging weeds behind true eyes. In a nation where angels die.
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 7:33 PM UTC
processing power, no delays, high octane fury, filtered through a glorious glass hole, gaze and wonder with me, I'm somewhere that seems to be..further away, it was all allowed to happen, I took control of it, or let it go? Honestly that thought perplexes me, I don't know, a whirl wind, I'm on a spaceship, reading to roosters, letting them give their crow,, allowing them to breath in deeply and cough when needed, its connecting on a stream, and the stream is nice and easy, It understands what it has control over and what it doesn't, gives In sometimes, but it lets the mind be deceiving for a second, then flows back in
Imagine the miccrochorsims, exploring their own roots deeply chaotic, deeply beyond, anything, I, don’t understand…..
Come with me on my digging adventure
Care to have a think? I thinking not, thoughts through fixations
flick a cigarette and lick a split, you savaging ***** sensitivity of a ****
Come wardrobed with me in Narnia, waking with fixed hats, Wonderland, Haunted by petty notes, humorous haunting, actually amusing
slaving over the machines, slaving over the rides,
I ensure you, I know how to have a good time
Raging with rambunctious rugrats, pleasant and fun, consuming hours, forgotten hours, fantasies are magic, to forget is perfect
love of saggatarius? love of Scorpio? Jupider and Mars? your words that you thought meant something burn up in the wind, after a long bonfire, burn the ones we thought were vain, it all came from the same well, frame them all,
frame all of them, in my haunted fantasy
love your point? I love it too, I sign and I go with you, Love your thesis? I thought it was interesting, lets come up with some counter arguments and I’ll let your string pull me towards you
Love your praxis? your objective? your target audience? let them hear your rapsody, and hopefully they will live in a new way, their new truth that will get them through the day, their belief, that will hold their prayers, and loosen, affirm
Love your richeousness? have, have it, and lay in the grass and look at the sky, wonder with reason, come up with a solution, emerge and go back to work
frame it all, I will frame it for you, then laugh and light my cigar, that’s what I’ll do, in my haunted fantsasy, come with me! I’ll show you
FRAME IT ALL, FRAME IT ALL, FRAME IT ALL
Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 8:33 PM UTC
Care to have a think? I thinking not, thoughts through fixations
flick a cigarette and lick a split, you savaging ***** sensitivity of a ****
Come wardrobed with me in Narnia, waking with fixed hats, Wonderland, Haunted by petty notes, humorous haunting, actually amusing
slaving over the machines, slaving over the rides,
I ensure you, I know how to have a good time
Raging with rambunctious rugrats, pleasant and fun, consuming hours, forgotten hours, fantasies are magic, to forget is perfect
love of saggatarius? love of Scorpio? Jupider and Mars? your words that you thought meant something burn up in the wind, after a long bonfire, burn the ones we thought were vain, it all came from the same well, frame them all,
frame all of them, in my haunted fantasy
Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 3:57 PM UTC
In words
she works
her dangerous tongue
shaping the
desires that were,
are, and yet to ***
Viper eyes
of Egyptian fire
surge towards me
purging any urge
I have to resist
the demon’s lips
that ache to kiss
my tired flesh
to death.
It has been far too long.
Rain never looming.
My eyes always averted,
hands working out
****** frustration,
but when I face her
I yearn to bend
to her whims.
She commands me
to crawl
and I do.
She demands
that I beg
and I do.
Then she tells me
to devour her flesh
as she devours me
and my tongue
whips viciously
savaging
her moist lips.
Legs parting,
heart thumping,
she demands
all that I am
as a man.
I become hers
and give in
pumping
with a passionate fury.
We howl,
growl,
and nip.
The wet sounds
of desire’s fulfillment
fills the room.
We are consumed
in such a sweet
****** tempest.
Till we part,
only temporarily satisfied
animals waiting to refresh
so, we can feed the lust
again, and again.
Nov 26, 2017
Nov 26, 2017 at 11:22 AM UTC
God look I am bleeding
is this to show
what else do you want
more blood
Oh do I love the cramps
feels like dogs are savaging my guts
is this my burden
to have my pups
So I do show
my hands red
my bed covered in blood
just for you to show
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 7:24 AM UTC