"seediest" poems - Hello Poetry

I had gone looking for trouble. I found it. I had awoke in a sour mood. Very unlike myself at all. I am usually, always in good cheer. Almost, always. I was spoiling for a fight. The need radiated from me. Even Crystal could sense the difference in my demeanor. The flea bitten, sweet, craven coward. After donning my new Peacock blue cloak, with the black pipping and carrying my gold tipped, lions head walking stick. I left straight away. I walked for miles. Ending up in the seediest part of the city. The Docks. I aimlessly wandered the filth strewn, cobbled streets. Passing many an Ale House. Finally, my preternatural hearing found the sounds of a fight. Why, it was an all out riot. Off I flew to join in. Fists flying. Daggers plunging. Walking stick cracking skulls. (that would be me) What fun! I held back from using my immortal strength. I wanted to feel each time my fist met flesh. To have to Pick teeth out of my knuckles. One chap actually caught me a rather right smart jab to my chiseled chin. Exhausted, the men crumpled to a heap. Only I remained standing....and the fifteen or so Policemen watching the fray from a respectable distance. I have always prided myself on being a law abiding, upstanding citizen. As it were. So, when they started gathering up everyone and loading them into the Jail Wagon. I went along, as a lark. What a buffet! By the time we reached Central Station, I had sipped upon many a fine blood. When the Police opened the rear doors of the wagon, I jumped down to the ground, tipped my hat to them and simply (to his eyes) vanished. Preternatural speed can be so amusing, when used correctly. By now, my description will be bandied about. A well dressed gentleman ghost. A polite wraith. A handsome demon. I like that. A Handsome Demon...very apt. I am in a much better spirit now. ~Lord Kellington

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Oct 29, 2010

Oct 29, 2010 at 5:33 PM UTC

paula-swanson

The Diary Of Lord Kellington (16)

I had gone looking for trouble. I found it. I had awoke in a sour mood. Very unlike myself at all. I am usually, always in good cheer. Almost, always. I was spoiling for a fight. The need radiated from me. Even Crystal could sense the difference in my demeanor. The flea bitten, sweet, craven coward. After donning my new Peacock blue cloak, with the black pipping and carrying my gold tipped, lions head walking stick. I left straight away. I walked for miles. Ending up in the seediest part of the city. The Docks. I aimlessly wandered the filth strewn, cobbled streets. Passing many an Ale House. Finally, my preternatural hearing found the sounds of a fight. Why, it was an all out riot. Off I flew to join in. Fists flying. Daggers plunging. Walking stick cracking skulls. (that would be me) What fun! I held back from using my immortal strength. I wanted to feel each time my fist met flesh. To have to Pick teeth out of my knuckles. One chap actually caught me a rather right smart jab to my chiseled chin. Exhausted, the men crumpled to a heap. Only I remained standing....and the fifteen or so Policemen watching the fray from a respectable distance. I have always prided myself on being a law abiding, upstanding citizen. As it were. So, when they started gathering up everyone and loading them into the Jail Wagon. I went along, as a lark. What a buffet! By the time we reached Central Station, I had sipped upon many a fine blood. When the Police opened the rear doors of the wagon, I jumped down to the ground, tipped my hat to them and simply (to his eyes) vanished. Preternatural speed can be so amusing, when used correctly. By now, my description will be bandied about. A well dressed gentleman ghost. A polite wraith. A handsome demon. I like that. A Handsome Demon...very apt. I am in a much better spirit now. ~Lord Kellington

31

No heaven When I was just eleven I signed a contract with the devil In blood I would be for him his **** My grave would be early dug I could not ask for forgiveness of my sins There was no meaning to the ends No making a mends with the big man above Could he still have some love Always followed by two black crows never a white dove The seediest of places I had my den Living in the city of sin Stripe clubs was my neighborhood pub Anything other I would snub ******* It really did not matter to me where I would dine on my line Ironic my favorite liquor was called Heaven Hill used as a chaser after all the pills Always in court one appeal after the other appeal The Devil was always by my side and would always make some kind of deal Never going to jail So never had to come up with bail I know I ain't going to heaven I sure will be going to hell Want matter before I die If I should ask for forgiveness for all my sins He kept me tied to his path for him I could not fail So I will See you all in HELL !!

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Sep 11, 2015

Sep 11, 2015 at 11:31 PM UTC

mark-tilford

Going to hell

No heaven When I was just eleven I signed a contract with the devil In blood I would be for him his **** My grave would be early dug I could not ask for forgiveness of my sins There was no meaning to the ends No making a mends with the big man above Could he still have some love Always followed by two black crows never a white dove The seediest of places I had my den Living in the city of sin Stripe clubs was my neighborhood pub Anything other I would snub ******* It really did not matter to me where I would dine on my line Ironic my favorite liquor was called Heaven Hill used as a chaser after all the pills Always in court one appeal after the other appeal The Devil was always by my side and would always make some kind of deal Never going to jail So never had to come up with bail I know I ain't going to heaven I sure will be going to hell Want matter before I die If I should ask for forgiveness for all my sins He kept me tied to his path for him I could not fail So I will See you all in HELL !!

36

The seediest part of the seediest place in town. A place where dreams go to die. A place where all relationships are transactional and all are doomed to last less than a night.There's a special type of misery here. A specific sadness that is at once heartbreaking but also insanely addictive. Tens of people seated in a dingy noisy sorry excuse for a bar sharing an experience called loss. Maybe the loss of a loved one, maybe the loss of innocence. More likely the loss of something of financial value. Human nature is such that we loathe and crave company. We wish to be alone but are painfully drawn towards each other. Hating that we are but unable to separate ourselves from a deep dark primeval fear... The fear of loneliness. For as evolution has taught us, think hundreds of bespectacled scientists, many speaking with the current prestige accent of our respective languages, are fond of telling us, it's because back in the day when were stuck in t' savannah, the last one left behind was often prey to t'lions, leopards or sabertooth tigers. There's some truth in this... But as much as we would like to think everything can be magicked away by science and evolution, life is rarely that simple. More likely as alluded to, there's something invisible inside us all that draws us to each other. Sometimes like souls to like souls, other times opposites attract. Maybe it's our innate hopefulness that there's someone out there who understands you or in the luckier cases loves you. A little voice that drives you to keep going. What happens when you finally shut out that voice? What will be left keeping you going?

0

Jul 24, 2019

Jul 24, 2019 at 10:41 AM UTC

Modus_Opp

What does life mean?

The seediest part of the seediest place in town. A place where dreams go to die. A place where all relationships are transactional and all are doomed to last less than a night.There's a special type of misery here. A specific sadness that is at once heartbreaking but also insanely addictive. Tens of people seated in a dingy noisy sorry excuse for a bar sharing an experience called loss. Maybe the loss of a loved one, maybe the loss of innocence. More likely the loss of something of financial value. Human nature is such that we loathe and crave company. We wish to be alone but are painfully drawn towards each other. Hating that we are but unable to separate ourselves from a deep dark primeval fear... The fear of loneliness. For as evolution has taught us, think hundreds of bespectacled scientists, many speaking with the current prestige accent of our respective languages, are fond of telling us, it's because back in the day when were stuck in t' savannah, the last one left behind was often prey to t'lions, leopards or sabertooth tigers. There's some truth in this... But as much as we would like to think everything can be magicked away by science and evolution, life is rarely that simple. More likely as alluded to, there's something invisible inside us all that draws us to each other. Sometimes like souls to like souls, other times opposites attract. Maybe it's our innate hopefulness that there's someone out there who understands you or in the luckier cases loves you. A little voice that drives you to keep going. What happens when you finally shut out that voice? What will be left keeping you going?

5