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"scorcher" poems
We're at the point of almost melting Hellish heatwave is most sweltering All of us getting an absolute baking Thermostats are all upwardly rising Abundant solar activity is happening Skin on our faces akin to pork crackling Copious amount of water we're drinking Our sweaty brows are in need of mopping Relief from the heat we're always seeking Cool locales like long verandah shading Hades is where us folks are now dwelling Endless hours of excessively high temperatures Reductions in these would be such a pleasure
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Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 7:06 PM UTC
What A Scorcher (Acrostic Poem)
I deal in Ultimatums I am the Scorcher of the Sky By any other name God My Dreams sway the movement of the People Crowned Eternal for all to See In My right hand , the World My left, Reality I conquered the saviors of the People I've fed on the Blood of Sin's Virginity I gave them fire and Greed then showed them how to deconstruct the Seas these Sacrificial heads roll just for me I am the Sultan of the Sand from me Spawned the most decadent brand bombs and ticks, clocks and rickets are merely the Product of my Seed I made the Sun weep blood I made the Stars shine in ecstasy I built upon Avalon I broke the Roman Siege no Empire on this Earth will stand against me creation and destruction is my creed I Am Ego Bow Before Me
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Oct 20, 2010
Oct 20, 2010 at 8:26 PM UTC
Rickets
Tickle torture, Pillow fight, Midnight scorcher, Summer night. Lighting bugs, Croaking frogs, Loving hugs, Burning logs. Scary stories, Nervous laughter, Starry glories, Shortly after. Heaven's floor, Billion lights, Living for, Summer nights.
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Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 2:04 AM UTC
Tickle Torture
SUMMER stinking hot weather no respite from the scorcher toasting everything AUTUMN/FALL the Maple branches dressed in copper tones during those March days WINTER bitter cold winds blow o'er the mountain landscape cruelly they do bite SPRING lambkins by the score born in spring a time of year where new life begins
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Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 5:23 PM UTC
Seasonal Haiku's
Knives aren't meant for playing Hands aren't meant for hitting But tonight I have no limits If pain was a person then I'd be its scorcher Put flames in my veins I consent to this torture Beat me if you want, it'll take much for me to cry I'll show my enjoyment, I have no reason to lie Never been scared of blood That's including my own And they'll never know I'm addicted I lock the door to my room Just me and all my weapons of choice They give me love so good that I lose my voice ~Corona Harris~
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Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 5:47 PM UTC
*********
Acting like an accident waiting to happen. They unprotected me and left me for dead while I was napping. Torchered by their lies. I can see through their hip disguise. Again they act like the lying cheats they are. It is to bad they have beaten up old car. Trying to help them act to torcher. In the heat another scorcher. For *** lies, and video tape. They can go on “Gilbert’s” grape. My neighbors lie and so they act self righteous. Then they then act to destroy my life with no bias. No one will help. I am here alone with the enemy about to melt. That is all I can say. Maybe one day they will pay!
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Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 3:34 PM UTC
Acting Liars
I gave him eighteen years, thousands in gas money, and more music than he deserved, and all I got in return was a subscription to Fox News– which, by the way, is a complete ******** “thank you” gift because you can fool yourself into believing anything. "You know what's going to happen tomorrow? Rain!" when in fact I'm certain its going to be a scorcher. He sits bedside, making horrible jokes and bringing up remember-that-times. When will he ever pay the rent? Even though he doesn’t sleep here– he never sleeps– he should at least pay me in something other than beheading-dreams. And in the shower we review ****** flaws, and in the mirror we recount all the mean things I ever said or did to him for being such an insufferable ******* “Stop it.” He looks uncomfortable, not as sure of himself. He ponders what I meant for a while, opens his mouth to rebut and gets another stop it. “Stop it. Get a job.” Because he contributes nothing. “But you should…” “Stop it. Get a job, because all I’m gaining from us right now is a bunch of lies. Quit watching Fox News.” “Listen here, ****** “Stop it. Get a job. Quit watching Fox News.” And he leaves for a couple hours. He knocks. “Stop it.” The knocking stops.
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Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 12:34 AM UTC
CBT
I tried crawling out mind Eyes following the morning wrens But that ****** screaming They are so cheerful, hopping along the fence Why are thoughts so loud today? Run to the shade little birds, today's a scorcher Heat stroke, but its only May! Scatter now, fly away with any tune. A cool glass of water, I do feel better. Sing away, 10 wings flutter, the harmony Something still doesn't seem quite right. Shadows in the wind, feathered friends.
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May 1, 2017
May 1, 2017 at 11:54 PM UTC
May
scorcher irreverent cocky fire ******* such luminosity defying expectations suscitavit a canibus they dominated you feral pack left you no scraps rescued via one whom recused not up to the task cannot fill in the gaps teach you the facts but some teachers trespass broke free from their fold swallowed them whole insoluble intolerable Yet such luminosity Wit Generosity Unfiltered curiosity Deprived of the basics A need to know basis Survival instinct Relationships Extinct In some fashion An artists Rendition Creative spark Nuclear fission Compassionate Empathetic For all you will listen Except for yourself A struggle Willful prohibition
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Mar 10, 2016
Mar 10, 2016 at 10:55 PM UTC
Sirius A
so effing hot today my skin melting fat crackling muscles sizzling flesh evaporating bones cracking skeleton crumbling burning down to glowing embers even my ashes echoing lamenting the heat
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Sep 24, 2018
Sep 24, 2018 at 10:42 PM UTC
Another Scorcher
I dare not look at god's scintillating scorcher of an eye only the bold would walk forward into hell concrete callings beckon to the place where at least the prince knows the blood is on your hands fire take me now no one could teach me to see the devil for what he is smoke wheels manifest from the fog oozing from the forsaken ground of crying corpses I am lost, I am lost in the month of hollow hearts if I close my eyes I see the shard of heaven in your chest don't dare look away I have always killed for you
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Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 11:36 AM UTC
spirit rising
I wish I could navigate the minefield of my mind Its corners dark and undefined. One step too far, it all explodes It explodes, my being erodes. I walk through slowly with a hopeful face Behind me, anxiety soon gives chase. Anxiety stabs me, sanity's scorcher And as I weep, I'm ****** to self torture. Cut in the heart by worries future to past I'm paralyzed to think this day is my last. I break the mirror, shouting at my appearance Meandering in camouflage is my only clearance. I'm comforted by brief moments of peace But it's back to the minefield as those cease. I sit and smile as I amputate In this personal hell I create. And I shudder to think of an eternity bound To this forsaken battleground.
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Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 12:33 AM UTC
Mindfield
When a newborn comes around, Or someone is having troubles, They say: Welcome to reality Well, here's a wake-up to reality Look around: You proud of our Earth? A decade ago, cowboys used to roam on horseback, And put up with the heat Now they wipe the sweat off of their brows, Aussie blokes say, "Boy, today's a scorcher" Wanna know why? Coz we're all blinded by greed and laziness Too lazy to invest in a car That doesn't heat up the Earth Too blinded by pretentious leadership Where politicians know the facts, but do **** all Ever seen the pollution cloud above Mexico City? It's ****** disgusting What are we doing to our world We only have one, one chance One hope to not **** up, Wipe ourselves out In our own vile gases Yet look around Too corrupt to care, Too lazy to do anything Blinded by falsities As we choke on the fumes Of mankind's stupidity Welcome to reality Welcome to the Wastelands
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Nov 28, 2015
Nov 28, 2015 at 5:43 AM UTC
Wastelands
When I am with you, you shall find I undoubtably lose my mind I hate my life, I thrash, you sneer You do this to me every year! The pain is like a tearing scorcher You subject me to such deadly torture I will not stand it. I cannot. I must not get another shot.
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Dec 24, 2018
Dec 24, 2018 at 2:49 AM UTC
"What Hurts Most"
Feeling a tightened crush to your veins Feeling a drop of happiness fall from your wish Knowing if you look down, your heart will be in chains And hearing the tension inside my mind if I listen Feeling anger rise from your blood Feeling a shake in resisting thoughts Knowing your tears hit the floor into a flood And sensing a confusion that is stuck in knots Feeling the darkened soothing torture Feeling as if nothing could be a fix Knowing the flames hurt your feelings like a scorcher And all the emotions that come with time is a trick
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Mar 8, 2017
Mar 8, 2017 at 11:20 AM UTC
Frustration
(whistle).. chirp chirp, I know the night has slipped away- when i hear the birds words. the room starts to illuminate- the windows curtains, don't work. i'm not ready for the suns harsh rays- seeking darkness, the light hurts. but a selfish horus starts his day- the jays and i, suffer. silently, not once a **** apology- with no remorse, the birds burn. Always found it kinda funny, we assume birds are always singing- melodies of fresh starts, new hope. At dawn a roosters caw, signals new beginnings, sounds more like they're hung from rope. Maybe the cardinals hate the light, maybe they are screaming? when that fireball in the sky flaunts his glow maybe the ravens hope they are but dreaming, Or maybe this time it won't show. Can't wake up from this nightmare, vulture- yes, this is all real. sometimes the heat just can't be bared, torture- i know just how you feel. it can be easy to get scared, scorcher- sometimes you cannot deal. so yell to the demon in the air, forger- one day he may just kneel. Gather the eagles, gather the hawks- riot! revolution! act against the evil, no time for squawk- find it, resolution. gather on the steeple, form solid as rock- binded, may confuse him. together you are lethal, invincible, this flock- fly high. retribution -bb
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Aug 25, 2017
Aug 25, 2017 at 6:00 AM UTC
The Bird & The Star
driving nevada 562 passing sunset park the air is a scorcher. desert mountains surround this dusted valley. your radio plays AM stations in your old '46 as the motor roars and my hair blows wild in the wind. similar to when you raised me, but now twice my old age. the air is a scorcher and I'll be here only two days. I put my head on your shoulder and you tell me we turned the wrong way. my protector, you've seen me grow - "but for the grace of God, there go I."
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Aug 29, 2014
Aug 29, 2014 at 8:43 AM UTC
Mad Mike
Where I met allure she was my craft inured that round my futon when her neck was born ready her an all nighter with vita relinquished uproariously keen in swelter but really resurrected platitude a scorcher for sure and dreams whetted with desire while attire was crumpling here round my dumpling the weather most attested her rap that I'd relish her bare much than sympathy again always tile her spree.
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Mar 29, 2017
Mar 29, 2017 at 7:43 AM UTC
Ä Spree
Fleeting flashes, crashes, of a desperate end entwined into the fibers of my mind, the essence of my blood, of my mere being. Tiles blinding, the grin of a mindless maniac upon the greedy grasp of the grim death, yanked into the oblivion of eternity. Melted crystals, flowing, bubbling, calling my name, so attractive, a sultry dessert, in a way a sweet ending to a melancholy before. Take a chance, dip a foot, gamble with fate a sea of possibilities it is not, in the end of the day, it is a pocket within it a knife. Fabric as satin to a human's touch, the feel of basking in the brightness and hotness of the scorcher, but I ask how, then, could the silky smooth, upon the call, unveil a thing so sharp, morbidly used? The graveness and grim of a place quite dimly lit the pallor of the pretty porcelain stark against the ripples of transparent silk afloat; inviting. The satiny tub awaits so patient and kind as the river's waves morbidly sharp sway me into a merry wager, hand the despair for a shiny-wrapped contraire, attractive. Perhaps shall I dare for a taste, the thrill but before, slimy tendrils curl around me limbs encircled in a ruse of freedom. How could I be a fool, enough to believe then allow myself to fall into a bush of these luscious roses, rusted, singed petals and daggers for thorns underneath the surface of a sublime promise and statuesque? And thus I drown, and drown, and drown, into a stormy ocean full of prickly briers and as time crosses into the realm of nothingness, vacuum, the truth sinks in; the emptiness spans endlessly, and I will forever float, eternally exist, nowhere else, only in the screaming white, alone.
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Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 7:31 AM UTC
Silky Briers
Fleeting flashes, crashes, of a desperate end entwined into the fibers of my mind, the essence of my blood, of my mere being. Tiles blinding, the grin of a mindless maniac upon the greedy grasp of the grim death, yanked into the oblivion of eternity. Melted crystals, flowing, bubbling, calling my name, so attractive, a sultry dessert, in a way a sweet ending to a melancholy before. Take a chance, dip a foot, gamble with fate a sea of possibilities it is not, in the end of the day, it is a pocket within it a knife. Fabric as satin to a human's touch, the feel of basking in the brightness and hotness of the scorcher, but I ask how, then, could the silky smooth, upon the call, unveil a thing so sharp, morbidly used? The graveness and grim of a place quite dimly lit the pallor of the pretty porcelain stark against the ripples of transparent silk afloat; inviting. The satiny tub awaits so patient and kind as the river's waves morbidly sharp sway me into a merry wager, hand the despair for a shiny-wrapped contraire, attractive. Perhaps shall I dare for a taste, the thrill but before, slimy tendrils curl around me limbs encircled in a ruse of freedom. How could I be a fool, enough to believe then allow myself to fall into a bush of these luscious roses, rusted, singed petals and daggers for thorns underneath the surface of a sublime promise and statuesque? And thus I drown, and drown, and drown, into a stormy ocean full of prickly briers and as time crosses into the realm of nothingness, vacuum, the truth sinks in; the emptiness spans endlessly, and I will forever float, eternally exist, nowhere else, only in the screaming white, alone.
Continue reading...
43
My soul is blistering I'm tired of going down this road I feel like I am filled with nitroglycerine And I am about to explode I am so filled with hate I'm an angel that fell I am ready to face my fate Drag me to hell Flay my skin Cut my from within I want to be able to feel My skin as it peels Let me experience the fiery scorcher My screams you will conjure With the sick and twisted torture My soul you will conquer I want pain you can not measure Blended in with pleasure I want to explorer Ever single horror I want pain in every nerve Because this is what I deserve **** me time and time again Make me say Amen
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Dec 21, 2016
Dec 21, 2016 at 8:26 AM UTC
Drag Me To Hell
A hundred and seventeen by day Cools to ninety overnight No relief but the shower stall. Humidity at sixty-five Mixed with sweat for a nasty soup. Cold water from the tap is warm. The shade no cooler than the sun. Trapped in Air Conditioned caves, It’s hunker down and find a way To forge a path though ninety days. Why does anybody even try To live in this forsaken place. Bcause it’s lovely in the Winter. The gorgeous skies are like no other With clouds that tumble into billows Of fantastic size and shape. The Craggy mountains circle round In jagged homage to the sky, And sunrise is excelled by none. In March wildflowers explode in bloom. Along the streets and in the fields Where little bunnies hide in bushes. And tiny lizards scurry by. The air is clean and brisk and new And snowbirds make their yearly trek Infusing new and different views. That’s the Yang to scorching Yin That keeps us here, content to be. ljm
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Sep 12, 2019
Sep 12, 2019 at 8:59 AM UTC
SCORCHER
The land where I sleep, is the land where I weep The sounds in my dreams are blood-chilling screams When I take a snooze, all the goblins and ghouls Seek out and find my tired haunted mind. They drive me insane, assaulting my brain Night after night I'm scared outta my ***** I can never unwind they have twisted with my mind I try to stay awake for sanity’s sake. For those wild-eyed horrors are the most evil explorers Sent from the devil and told to dishevel Any semblance of normality with the upmost brutality And leave me in a heap, so afraid of sleep. I know who to blame, I can tell you his name And creature quite charming making deals so harming I sold my soul to Beelzebub, a drunken bet in a pub I didn’t ask for a lot, just a shiny new yacht. Well I got my bright vessel but for my soul I must wrestle When I catch forty winks, The Dark Lord he thinks: Let’s go play in his head, make him wish he was dead, And the gamble regret, praying instead for death Like a poor mouse that, is caught by the cat I know that I'm trapped but my mind has not snapped I hear hell is a scorcher so after all of the torture It’ll be straight down below for eternity I’ll go. Nightmares I can dismiss, as well as eternity in the abyss Because He’s done worse already; my boat is moored in a jetty If you should happen to see it, you will exclaim ‘HOLY **** Oh Satan you’re an awful fellow, that yacht is a most horrible yellow’.
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Jun 20, 2020
Jun 20, 2020 at 3:44 AM UTC
The Devil Deals...