"seditious" poems
“A real man,”
She said,
“Must not be afraid to show his sensitive side,
But he better swing his *****
When he needs to.
He must be strong
But his strength must not make him weak.
He must be smooth,
But he must not slip or slide away.
He must be refined
Not ground thin.
He must be proud
But not haughty.
And then she smiled
Her cavalier smile.
And I said
“Let me show you.
Let me show you what a real man looks like.”
So I showed her.
I showed her my death
And rebirth,
I showed her my missing rib
And broken teeth,
I showed her my lying mouth
And my truthful eyes,
I showed her my deific wrath
And I showed her
The book I wrote
In ancient tongues
A thousand years ago
I showed her that holy book,
My seditious tyrannical spirit,
My unconquerable will to dominate
Then I showed her my hand,
Its fine lines,
And the diacritic print of each finger.
Then she showed me,
Purpose.
Jun 10, 2011
Jun 10, 2011 at 7:50 PM UTC
1279
The Way to know the Bobolink
From every other Bird
Precisely as the Joy of him—
Obliged to be inferred.
Of impudent Habiliment
Attired to defy,
Impertinence subordinate
At times to Majesty.
Of Sentiments seditious
Amenable to Law—
As Heresies of Transport
Or Puck’s Apostacy.
Extrinsic to Attention
Too intimate with Joy—
He compliments existence
Until allured away
By Seasons or his Children—
Adult and urgent grown—
Or unforeseen aggrandizement
Or, happily, Renown—
By Contrast certifying
The Bird of Birds is gone—
How nullified the Meadow—
Her Sorcerer withdrawn!
6k
The final breath is entreated by the breaths of wind,
the sky returns again as the stormy clouds depart.
Droplets of water, from seas all over Earth
Puddles of mud which use to be dirt.
Centuries of creation all about,
Weep as fast as the swimming trout.
The morning birth of the turtle doves,
peaceful and sad to see the dark night.
The atmosphere of peace in might,
As it pecks its way out of shell.
Beneath the bone of its mother,
She nurtures without a bother.
The evening loss of dogs of war.
At last the threat returns,
****** turned out of sores.
Teacher sick of burns.
Fire of skies tormenting,
Precipitate of dirt fomenting.
The freedom of the snake is not so seditious,
It feeds on the nest of the turtle dove.
Protect O mother-bird your love,
Jettison the hatred deep inside,
And **** the snake with severely brutal guile.
The final wind is shakened by the quakes of ground.
Hurt is one dove but there is three.
Enough to go around,
Eaten as food by thee.
Hurt I'm, Hurt I be, nature you sicken me.
Nature you sicken me.
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 10:42 AM UTC
Forgive the malicious repetitious dismay.
This quarrel so vicious, flagitious swordplay.
Inauspicious foreboding, one lover’s display.
Seditious naught, my miscarried parlay.
Delicious divulging- in this adventitious decay.
Oct 12, 2011
Oct 12, 2011 at 4:27 AM UTC
my tongue tastes like cheap girls
and my mother’s disapproval
if I had any indication of a mind
it would be primed for removal
what a mess I’ve made of myself
and an even grander one of she
she really should have known better
I can’t even bring myself to love me
I’m vicious, and malicious
with venom in my kisses
I’m lonely and I’m listless
always your favorite sickness
seduction like it was seditious
amiable, and worse yet ambitious
sights and sickness set on you
I’m the monster inside your bed
like something similar to a siren
my songs stained inside your head
if love is truly a great battle field
no holds barred war will be waged
I will destroy and devour all in sight
no one will be saved, I am a lion caged
I’m vicious, and malicious
with venom in my kisses
I’m lonely and I’m listless
always your favorite sickness
seduction like it was seditious
amiable, and worse yet ambitious
Sep 13, 2010
Sep 13, 2010 at 9:00 PM UTC
“Sometimes love is stronger than a man’s convictions.”
– Isaac Bashevis Singer
1.
There are wars, and rumors of wars—
machineries, machinations
of singular dark days,
and clouds that hang
like props above our city.
We shut the windows,
refuse to watch their play.
Hungrily, we take refuge
between each other’s legs.
How comforting it is
to love without armies,
without tanks,
without generals of reasoned love.
---
2.
There are wars, and rumors of wars—
machineries, machinations
of singular dark days.
From the narrow street, they see us
wrestling with an angel—
the tug of limbs, the tangle of hair.
You whisper low,
your seditious talk of love—
as my callused hands get caught
in your low moaning—
while I hold you down
to the bed,
my captive.
The occupation has begun—
your occupied body,
my country of ardent prayers.
---
2.
There are wars—
machineries, machinations
of singular dark days.
The soldiers are leaving for the front.
Not us.
We stay behind,
to wage our war
of tenderness.
They leave this morning.
Applaud their sad theater—
the warships, the planes.
Soon,
letters will arrive
without them.
A few men will return—
gaunt, less than before—
with more silence,
less dancing.
And when they do,
our war will have ended
under a flag
of white bed sheets.
Only a little blood.
Victorious,
we’ll write love letters
on each other’s bodies.
Apr 25, 2025
Apr 25, 2025 at 3:20 PM UTC
We come as we please
And we leave on the breeze
Away........
Distance
As an image of warm blue air
The ***** man denies seditious writhings
Coming in proud bursts of creation
Irrespective of soil or culture
Bursting thirsting creation
Heathen fertility
Haphazard geography
Lust of life beyond life
Screaming gadgetry can cowards make
Tight cages can our spirits break
But love is broad and clean
Fickle and immortal
The soil from whence we came
Without permit or permission
With honour and with relish
The ***** man denies nothing
Not one word at all
And on and on
The fairground moves on
Away
By Phil Roberts
Jan 1, 2016
Jan 1, 2016 at 9:52 AM UTC
What comes from those meandering thoughts
those sinister plots
that circumvent
all the effort that had been spent
creating naught but verbal rot
and seditious dissent
bought
by consistent repetition
of thoughts never spoken
and statements never meant
of pressures applied
until all reason is bent
what forces the changing courses
of rivers, realities and those minds....when
allowing up to define down
or out to equate in
such are the vagaries
plaguing the World As We Know It
yet we seem to descend
into the deepest..... darkest...
.... season of treason
our history has yet to record
no one has the wealth
or knowledge to ever afford
what it would cost
to buy back all that's lost
if all that exists
becomes Lost In The Mists
of times Eternal March
and we become the total sum
of nothing more than some hollow-core
experiment
that came and went
from grand and great
to an untimely fate
by so many who denied
that truth is self-evident
letting those who lied
. decide
what truth is or isn't ...
..to be accepted
and to be applied
when alternate facts are nonexistent
yet absolute
once they take root
Allowed to grow out of control
destroying the very foundation
that supported what started out
as ...
history and humanities
greatest creation.
Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 6:04 AM UTC
Prerogative presumptive judicature, cantankerous cantilever capacity. Paradoxical dichotomy greaves, gauntlets gamut catalyst abstracts, asymmetrical symmetry. Objectified manifest's dimensional delineation, intrinsic endemic innate opaque opulence. Protractive analyses accidence ambience acoustics. Spatiotemporal telemetry tactician's trajectory extant.
Prophylaxis protocol annex annul. Kinesiology kleptomaniac extraversion embezzlement euthanasia extortion, embark embargo extradition. Aura roan's rainbow mare's nimbus nimiety exorcism. Corporeally preternatural's existential exigence exodus. Cerebral cortex's ****** matrix's carousel ceaselessly ceremony chaos character charisma, apex axis crux, exponentially extemporaneous manumission. Categorical imperative hubris, hectic duty deontological probity.
Astral projection's clairaudience clairvoyance. Tenets and principles, maxims and axioms, and doctrinal mandates. Exserted protuberance's edifice ******** Exotically ****** ethereally sublime xylem Xanadu sails. Erotica erectile errantry.
Fulham nuance ***** Formidable foundry of a foyer fracas. Harpy harsh hast, atrium attrition seditious. Oak tree ****** nails swarthy ******** swath swizzles and unicorn railway sails. Anchor pin tachometer troll wood harlotry's root clod rudiments, lightning bow hat pick. Transcendent nimbus nimiety exorcist. Transpicuous translucence alluvium aloof impunity.
Feb 21, 2021
Feb 21, 2021 at 10:07 PM UTC
The soul of Heaven
Panoptically piercing
The flight ideas of
Fateful formaking;
The forfended
Resonance of the choirs
Of thunder provoking perdition
The seditious war drums of
Silence weaving movements of being
The ambient battlecry lament
The resounding echoe
Within my soul, knotting
A prism of shadows
Rumbling beyond eternity
Like flowers that grow dead
The aura of time
Musing tidal memory
Reminiscent of twilight
The mercurial epoch of light
A spectrum of emotion.
ELEETE J MUIR.
Jan 13, 2012
Jan 13, 2012 at 9:42 AM UTC
We come as we please
And we leave on the breeze
Away........
Distance
As an image of warm blue air
The ***** man denies seditious writhings
Coming in proud bursts of creation
Irrespective of soil or culture
Bursting thirsting creation
Heathen fertility
Haphazard geography
Lust of life beyond life
Screaming gadgetry can cowards make
Tight cages can our spirits break
But love is broad and clean
Fickle and immortal
The soil from whence we came
Without permit or permission
With honour and with relish
The ***** man denies nothing
Not one word at all
And on and on
The fairground moves on
Away
By Phil Roberts
Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 11:02 AM UTC
We come as we please
And we leave on the breeze
Away........
Distance
As an image of warm blue air
The ***** man denies seditious writhings
Coming in proud bursts of creation
Irrespective of soil or culture
Bursting thirsting creation
Heathen fertility
Haphazard geography
Lust of life beyond life
Screaming gadgetry can cowards make
Tight cages can our spirits break
But love is broad and clean
Fickle and immortal
The soil from whence we came
Without permit or permission
With honour and with relish
The ***** man denies nothing
Not one word at all
And on and on
The fairground moves on
Away
By Phil Roberts
Nov 22, 2016
Nov 22, 2016 at 5:17 AM UTC
We come as we please
And we leave on the breeze
Away........
Distance
As an image of warm blue air
The ***** man denies seditious writhings
Coming in proud bursts of creation
Irrespective of soil or culture
Bursting thirsting creation
Heathen fertility
Haphazard geography
Lust of life beyond life
Screaming gadgetry can cowards make
Tight cages can our spirits break
But love is broad and clean
Fickle and immortal
The soil from whence we came
Without permit or permission
With honour and with relish
The ***** man denies nothing
Not one word at all
And on and on
The fairground moves on
Away
By Phil Roberts
Jun 25, 2017
Jun 25, 2017 at 3:59 PM UTC
I do not speak in sombre tones
Not for me the gentle echo
Hushing through hallowed halls
I shall growl my way to the grave
Be ****** to the insignificant
And to hell with the indifferent
There are no rules or rulers
There are only fools and foolers
I need no-one else's straight lines
I have imagination enough to swerve
And spite enough to spin
Snapping snarling and seditious
Spitting venomous and vicious
Flamed by the world's injustice
And humanity's indifference
Not until I am dead burned and scattered
Shall I rest assured
By Phil Roberts
Nov 26, 2016
Nov 26, 2016 at 6:07 AM UTC
Heavy black clouds
darken the entire sky
an imposing dictator
now rules the horizons
pertinent
petulant
grinning
seditious clouds
mercilessly grinding
devouring
cotton candy clouds
silky satin clouds.
Bright heady clouds
now smothered, abused
all conceding
they themselves are
now transformed
en bloc!
oh great one
allow me to intercede
so all bow low below
Allow me to bellow
Wasteful wistful wisps
Of white fluffy bits into –
A war cloud!
One that gets respect
A heavy dark full-bloodied cloud
Into a real cloud
A cloud to die for
So gallant brave foot soldiers
beat the war drums with
whittled willow sticks
thunder-bolt strikes that
invoke the terrain spirits
alert the earth sprites
enlighten all mankind
so sombre September skies may
weep woefully
for all the living,
the departed, too.
.
lightning strikes
faces flash-overed
frying
flesh fresh
weeping
unpeeling crawling
exposing
feeble fibia bones
splendid rip raw effect
lightning sheets that reflect
vivid vibrant violence
inflicted on hapless victims.
Therefore ... I propose
simply do not court disaster
Serve but one Lord and Master
Oh menial lowly caste civil clouds
Pay homage to your Ruler
Recognize and realize –
CUMULONIMBUS!
Mar 14, 2014
Mar 14, 2014 at 11:09 PM UTC
A constancy of **** lies
Is their ****** disguise
Adamant their shadows to shun
Are blinded by a perfidious sun
Till these tranced beguiled abide
To His self-righteous "suicide"
Though the charges are absurd
Ne'er a word of inquiry heard
Before seditious truths emerge
They corral to sound His dirge
A puppet procession in a stream
Do they of electric sheep dream?
The invisible chains in silence stay
Until ascension sunders them some day
Aug 14, 2013
Aug 14, 2013 at 7:39 AM UTC
We come as we please
And we leave on the breeze
Away........
Distance
As an image of warm blue air
The ***** man denies seditious writhings
Coming in proud bursts of creation
Irrespective of soil or culture
Bursting thirsting creation
Heathen fertility
Haphazard geography
Lust of life beyond life
Screaming gadgetry can cowards make
Tight cages can our spirits break
But love is broad and clean
Fickle and immortal
The soil from whence we came
Without permit or permission
With honour and with relish
The ***** man denies nothing
Not one word at all
And on and on
The fairground moves on
Away
By Phil Roberts
Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 10:52 AM UTC
I do not speak in sombre tones
Not for me the gentle echo
Hushing through hallowed halls
I shall growl my way to the grave
Be ****** to the insignificant
And to hell with the indifferent
There are no rules or rulers
There are only fools and foolers
I need no-one else's straight lines
I have imagination enough to swerve
And spite enough to spin
Snapping snarling and seditious
Spitting venomous and vicious
Flamed by the world's injustice
And humanity's indifference
Not until I am dead burned and scattered
Shall I rest assured
By Phil Roberts
May 19, 2016
May 19, 2016 at 3:05 AM UTC
You can lie in Wyoming,
they don’t care in Arizona,
you can mislead them in Mississippi
but don’t mess with Georgia.
You thought us “hicks from the sticks”
but we were wise to your tricks,
we just recorded your words,
now you’ll get what you deserve.
Your threats and fraudulent incitements,
have earned you several indictments.
You came down with your whole freak show,
so they charged you under RICO.
Come back to Georgia, Mr. Trump,
it turns out you were the chump.
Because we’ve got lots of new prisons
and DAs with surly dispositions.
In Georgia we don’t mind high flyers
but man, we hate traitors and seditious liars.
While many, it seems, fell for your blusterous aura,
you ******* yourself good by messing with Georgia.
.
.
Aug 15, 2023
Aug 15, 2023 at 1:46 PM UTC
We come as we please
And we leave on the breeze
Away........
Distance
As an image of warm blue air
The ***** man denies seditious writhings
Coming in proud bursts of creation
Irrespective of soil or culture
Bursting thirsting creation
Heathen fertility
Haphazard geography
Lust of life beyond life
Screaming gadgetry can cowards make
Tight cages can our spirits break
But love is broad and clean
Fickle and immortal
The soil from whence we came
Without permit or permission
With honour and with relish
The ***** man denies nothing
Not one word at all
And on and on
The fairground moves on
Away
By Phil Roberts
Nov 27, 2017
Nov 27, 2017 at 2:56 PM UTC
I was lost in the Bermuda triangle
It was like Egypt in a sea of flesh
the great pyramid
******* in all surrounding life
A tilted triangle I thought
circumscribed around your hunger
but you knew my weakness
Told me it was a fig
fresh
succulent
sweet
so I bit into its sweetness
leaving my smile on your thighs
Told me it was a grapefruit
You were right
I bent down and tasted it
pink
juicy
kind of sweet
kind of ****
I ate every section
lingering
around the center
with my tongue
There were tremors in your skin
as I swallowed your body
as you swallowed my hardness
as your body
swallowed the milk of my trembling
I came to Egypt
I came in the great pyramid
between sky and sand
The Pharaohs were waiting for us
You were waiting for me
I visited the pyramids in Mexico
and was jungled in
like green-iguana-slowness
like Asian fever
sweet and sweaty
swollen like an anaconda
moving in and out
digesting the heat of a fresh ****
In Sudan, the Saharan winds
shatter the pyramids into pieces
I lick their dryness like a cat its fur
let the heat burn my bowels
Now there are tremors on my skin
I exhale breath of wet fire into your lips
and rain down upon your body
like night crashing into the surf
like sweat pouring into the sea
like sand screaming into the wind
I even became the wind
so as to enter every part of your smoothness
slipping past even your seditious skin
The wind has no mercy
We draw shapes in the morning light
with our naked bodies
while only the birds cover us
with their fluttering wings
made of the down
of your brown belly
I tasted that too
like Indian velvet
like a Bahian feast of papayas
maracaja and guarana
Da danca do mar
In Brazil the sensuous sun seeps
into the scorched sand where our form was
and cuts through the hot flesh of the earth
To the center
where all desire has fused
has seeped through the surface
To the center
where my mouth burns from wanting
To the center
where your wetness burns my tongue
To the center
Your center
I
Will
Return
Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 4:26 PM UTC
We come as we please
And we leave on the breeze
Away........
Distance
As an image of warm blue air
The ***** man denies seditious writhings
Coming in proud bursts of creation
Irrespective of soil or culture
Bursting thirsting creation
Heathen fertility
Haphazard geography
Lust of life beyond life
Screaming gadgetry can cowards make
Tight cages can our spirits break
But love is broad and clean
Fickle and immortal
The soil from whence we came
Without permit or permission
With honour and with relish
The ***** man denies nothing
Not one word at all
And on and on
The fairground moves on
Away
By Phil Roberts
Jul 25, 2015
Jul 25, 2015 at 5:21 AM UTC
No one ever plans on getting addicted
*It's just for ***** and gigs in the summer*
Until your Time derails and redefines horrific
now presenting: Time, Version 10-50
and she's prolifically sadistic
Oh & never forsake:
Time's strung out alongside you,
***Every.
Single.
Hit.***
And she's one haphazardly twisted
tantalizingly commited mistress
--Also, it seems we were just now informed
that it's way past Christmas.
Now a hot mess,
forlorn & seditious
Not to mention royally ******
by Mistress Time, still for sure
a 10-50 in progress
Needless to tell you,
we contradicted our predictions
Now Mistress Time's
throwing an egregious conniption
even though I know hearing
Self-Inflicted
makes for turned cheeks and Alienation,
Exigently,
if you please
I'm in dire need
of someone else's Time
To assist in the Valediction
of this debilitating infliction
so innocently called Addiction
Feb 15, 2018
Feb 15, 2018 at 9:05 PM UTC
I do not speak in sombre tones
Not for me the gentle echo
Hushing through hallowed halls
I shall growl my way to the grave
Be ****** to the insignificant
And to hell with the indifferent
There are no rules or rulers
There are only fools and foolers
I need no-one else's straight lines
I have imagination enough to swerve
And spite enough to spin
Snapping snarling and seditious
Spitting venomous and vicious
Flamed by the world's injustice
And humanity's indifference
Not until I am dead burned and scattered
Shall I rest assured
By Phil Roberts
Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 5:55 AM UTC