"seethed" poems
Nature teaches us our tongue again
And the swift sentences came pat. I came
Into cool night rescued from rainy dawn.
And I seethed with language - Henry at
Harfleur and Agincourt came apt for war
In Ireland and the Middle East. Here was
The riddling and right tongue, the feeling words
Solid and dutiful. Aspiring hope
Met purpose in "advantages" and "He
That fights with me today shall be my brother."
Say this is patriotic, out of date.
But you are wrong. It never is too late
For nights of stars and feet that move to an
Iambic measure; all who clapped were linked,
The theatre is our treasury and too,
Our study, school-room, house where mercy is
Dispensed with justice. Shakespeare has the mood
And draws the music from the dullest heart.
This is our birthright, speeches for the dumb
And unaccomplished. Henry has the words
For grief and we learn how to tell of death
With dignity. "All was as cold" she said
"As any stone" and so, we who lacked scope
For big or little deaths, increase, grow up
To purposes and means to face events
Of cruelty, stupidity. I walked
Fast under stars. The Avon wandered on
"Tomorrow and tomorrow". Words aren't worn
Out in this place but can renew our tongue,
Flesh out our feeling, make us apt for life.
3.4k
The Circus gongs excite the Throngs in nighttime Never Land –
They swarm to see the destiny of Freaks at their command,
While Acrobats step pitapat above the shifting sands
And Lady Fat sits down to chat and oozes charm unplanned.
The Dwarfs in suits, so small and cute when marching with the Band,
Ask crimson Clowns with frozen frowns, to hold a mutant hand,
While Tamers’ whips with withered tips, throughout the winter land,
Lure Cats entranced through hoops enhanced with flames of fires fanned.
White Elephants in big-top tents boast black-tusk contraband
To regiments of Sycophants who overflow the stands,
But No One sees anomalies, and No One understands.
At night’s demise, the dither dies, the lonesome Crowd disbands,
Down dead-end streets the Horde retreats, their tattered rags in strands,
And Janes and Joes reweave their woes, for thoughts of change are banned.
To play a part in Three-Ring Art, I thought I’d try my hand –
I mastered skills, I felt the thrills, I breathed and seethed firsthand –
But destiny denied to me to taste a lifetime spanned
With tightrope walks and trapeze chalks ... excepting second-hand...
For alcohol provoked a fall, as if a reprimand,
And now, a heap, I sometimes keep the ticket office manned...
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 10:57 AM UTC
Washed ashore
By the angry ebb
Of lost Atlantis,
The ocean brims
In liquid Jade
And grains of gold.
The sun won't sleep
Under the blanket
Of the vast horizon,
But dances with
The velvet moon
At heaven's feet.
Divine rays pierce
The prismic clouds
Bleeding spectrum,
Rain that seethed
At the apex
Of nature's bossom.
They gushed forth
Like raging horses
To a thirsty basin,
That slithered down
The silver rivers
And shallow streams.
Neon vines
Creep in the floor
Of the sleeping forest
Cradled by the songs
Of Mockingjays
And willow dryads.
The zephyr hums
A joyful song
In the laughing thickets
As flowers bloom
Like newborn stars
In the undergrowth.
In the mellow heart
Of the deep forest
A vixen's cry
Echoed woes
Of the hidden land
And its deadly curse.
Jun 17, 2013
Jun 17, 2013 at 8:03 AM UTC
The match struck and I ignited,
My heart melted like strong cheddar cheese
Bubbling,
with juvenile hope.
You taught me how to nurture my smile -
Let it run free.
You were the guide who helped me relocate
my laugh that got lost somewhere
on the left side of my brain
Now,
Every time my smile tries to fade,
Like comfort food seeping
through my punctured happiness,
Your fondue jokes take me back to that day,
like the burning cheese
that seethed into love.
Aug 5, 2013
Aug 5, 2013 at 5:21 PM UTC
I tore it down
All of it
Everything that resembled Mr. Brown
His clothes are in trash bags
The decor in pieces
Desecrated all of his flags
"Mr. Brown, don't ever show your face around,
or I'll put you in a coffin." I said
He looked confused as I pronounced Bob Marley lyrics in a way profound
" I do not blame you, but myself,
for the day you came in
I put my soul on a shelf"
"You are contorted and misconstrued
there is nothing but darkness
in the life around you"
He seethed with fury.
The kind I had when I was a child
He spoke shortly, yet with a dramatic flurry.
" You may send me away," he spat
I tried to contain my fear
"But you know as well as I do, I'll return and it won't be for a chat"
A sudden calm washed over me.
And I said with a devious smile
"Last time I let you. The next time I won't let be"
His coal black eyes perfectly matched his mouth; agape
as he stood stunned. A painting of disbelief.
I escorted him to the exit and sealed it with duct tape
because duct tape fixes everything
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 12:19 AM UTC
those who observed me while i was dormant
marveled at my majesty
unaware of the volatility that i barely kept contained
i was roped off, labeled with a tidy wooden sign that told me and others
what i was
a stoic monument and stable mountain
while at my core i seethed, i did my best to be what i needed to be in order to be witnessed
inevitably i erupted, frightening the gathered onlookers with a blazing rain of lava and a suffocating cloud of ash
the sky grew dark and it felt like the end of the world
but i needed to scream and i didn't mean to hurt anyone
i've had far fewer visitors since that day
i was fenced off, labeled with a rusting metal sign that told me and others what i was
a volcanic monster and volatile menace
i wonder
as i quietly crumble into the sea
if i will be remembered by humanity
and if so
will it be as the mountain
or the monster?
in the end
i think i would prefer to be forgotten
Dec 4, 2023
Dec 4, 2023 at 2:28 PM UTC
Your impassioned ****** blabber, a primordial prompt,
the seed, swelled,seethed feverishly for a while, sprouted
then surged in to a sea of love with all the intensity mustered
we drowned in that flood; there was only the sea of bliss.
Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 8:00 AM UTC
The sky was ablaze like glass in the church;
recumbent on stone floors / we had knocked out
the windows to let in only the blind light,
the blind arches that pointed heavenward, now yawning
narcoleptic houses of God grasping at sky and god
somehow / we captured daylight in our hands / we were
yearning for ourselves again between long hours of waiting
we believed in gods that breathed that great sky, we believed
in the breadth of cosmos more dazzling
than the church doors that we blew asunder
in that latter architecture where we decided the height
& breadth of the pillars in their proportions like
the proportions of man, exhausted & exaggerated,
man exalted, exaudi, exaudi, voca meam quam olim Abrahim
praises to all our lords on high, we sang in drunk
communion hailing, our communion with one another,
all of us there on the stone flags, hands in hands
we beat at the chests of each other, the eyes of each other
(we were just kids beating off to one thing or another)
and it was *** and chaos between those stone walls, it captured
us, bewildered us, those yawning heavens under the church ceiling,
the one that blazed with the dazzling color of windows
covered in dust like our skin the way it crept along the stone
and we craved it and the way that it seemed to creep,
the sky seemed to creep above us, seethed with light
some days we didn’t know which way was light, up
or lower down, it was usually easy to tell after you came
but we exhausted our voices, exaudi exaudi orationem meam
believing that something would hear us—we heard ourselves
more clearly in the throes of ****** nothing was more alive
more human, than anything, than anything that sang like that blazing
sky/ so we tossed ourselves forward into lightward, lightness
dazzling ourselves with light / it was the summer of everything closing /
the bewildering truth of our own god in cells and precious molecules
we made god in the throes of ****** worshipping in the dazzling sky
we had to propel ourselves forward, it was our stunning captivation
with that dazzling maze of flesh on the yearning sky, hands
searching inscrutably for hands, for god in the feverish sky, god
who doesn’t live in the sky, the god who climbs
with us, the god who screams in our ****** with us,
exaudi, exaudi, orationem meam, ad te omnes caro veniet…
Jan 8, 2012
Jan 8, 2012 at 11:46 AM UTC
I loved you once,
Although I never had you.
I suppose that's why I wanted you.
As I fly over the Rockies, I can't help but wonder what mountain you and your board caressed.
I saw you there last week in photos.
I know your love for flying with the snow.
As I look down over the land the topography brings me back to our conversation,
You know the one we had in the aisle of best buy in front of the speakers.
I was on my hands and knees and you were looking down at me.
Oh how your gaze would melt my heart.
Those eyes that seethed into my soul with understanding and mutual oldness.
I told you about the topography of the land and its similarity to the structure in our own bodies.
The rivers are our veins, the water our blood.
We find these veins in leaves, in intricate patterns in the mountains, in sediment run off and in lightening.
I tried to make you see what I see,
That we are not separate from nature, but in fact we are nature in a complex and beautiful form.
Intelligent and loving.
I thought I could make you happy,
But you didn't agree.
I'm still so sorry that you never had me.
L.Cole
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 11:15 PM UTC
I was foolish
To believe you
I was foolish
To befriend you
You played me
Emotions and lust
You betrayed me
With lies alone
I had cared
With honest reason
You didn't see
You didn't care
I was angered
I was hurt
My temper released
Why to me
A good "friend"
Did I deserve
This cruel stabbing
You laughed and
Said **** you"
"Gladly, good riddance"
I seethed back
Aching through strength
Suffering through dreams
That was then
This is now
I am stronger
I am better
You will regret
That one day
You lost me
Maybe not today
Maybe not tomorrow
But one day
You will soon
Remember that I
Was the one
Who stuck around
Because I truly
Deeply, sincerely, cared
When that happens
I won't hesitate
To show you
That I am
Better than you
Sep 9, 2013
Sep 9, 2013 at 3:55 AM UTC
Through the half-opened door, I watched you dissolved yourself in the thousand places and hundred years in your book. The sun hadn’t gone out today, like yesterday. As you flipped the pages and contain love between your fingers, the cat beside you remained uninterested to the benign indifference of the world.
Your coffee had gone cold, cream flared indiscreetly like those letters I have written and never sent, torn to pieces, all bits screaming your name. I can hear the sound of your tongue licking your lips – you always do that, before you form your words. After I disappear with you.
The sound of my footfalls echoed and I watched it wrapped the wall, covered the hinges of the door, up on the roof, and then dripped on its edges, fell like rain, kissed the pavement madly, then broke irrevocably like hearts. In our sheer vulnerability, this is how we encompassed the world.
I moved closer and you disappeared in your secret self, again. Roughness seethed my palm as I invade the space you have fenced. I wonder if this curtain had ever questioned how long has it been since you last summoned infinity, with me.
In this dungeon.
That night.
When the stars were disarrayed.
When immortality was defied.
When heat was lingering on the wall, in the atmosphere.
When I dismembered the universe just to melt with you while the entire space is screaming at me to run.
You must have heard my plea, my open mouth just above your ear. You should have heard me, to never stop your lips from measuring the length of my neck, to never chain your hands set wild between my legs, to let me bury your hair strands between my fingers, to always encompass me in your scorching breath.
And then eventually,
To burn me away.
Apr 14, 2013
Apr 14, 2013 at 5:37 AM UTC
My sister said she felt as though she had been *****
although neither of us had been
and yet both of us were
We each manifested it in our own ways
and in the same ways
The PTSD so characteristic of crimes against
those of our kind
She steered the little blue vehicle
while I charted the course
I argued in favor of what we had become
Through our inner battles our need to have built nuclear bunkers
in our hearts
our fine tuned herd instincts and our prey-like reflexes
Stronger I said, Stronger women we have become
Eyes fixed on the road she seethed
"I am a freak in isolation (as a tea kettle she would have boiled over)
I reach out but cannot, do not, will not touch
do not have the knowledge
to kiss?
to kiss another's lips...
I flinch I shutter, turn away from and flee
The upper air not clear yet
my heart's bunker I do not leave
forced there, forced there by so many years of wear and tear
I Stay in my dragons keep"
as we on the road drive to the dragon lair
My sister steers
and I, baby sister,
in our noble steed of a powered blue;
I guide us there
- To my sister:
Know that this is just a snapshot in time, a photograph that we will later burn.
That we will soon move on and you my sister. You will always be my guiding Sun.
Nov 24, 2012
Nov 24, 2012 at 7:39 PM UTC
The machine's coldness seethed my hair
as the world sat on my shoulder
that made it surrender
like curtains on a steaming afternoon
sighing questions
and endless uncertainty.
I punched the buttom
wrecked number 3
that bled Espresso
which in this another night
of your absence
would keep me awake
as I intensively unstitch the truth
about your pathetically sewn inventions
and attack the facts
about the abnormality of your society
and irrationality of your culture.
I swear I ******* hate you.
And someday you will die,
*******
Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 5:51 PM UTC
I know why I could only choke out “thank you”, instead of letting the “I love you”s that seethed in the pit of my stomach overflow through my useless mouth.
I know why I bit my tongue before I could allow my quivering lips to part and sing an aria of "forever"s dedicated to you. I would chew my cheeks to shreds until the taste of blood I yearned for coated the walls of my mouth. I savored the crimson slush, eagerly waiting for you to acknowledge me, your pet.
And when we finally kissed, you could taste the copper tinge on my tongue and the juice that lined my insides. It was a reminder that you’re holding something living. That I’m alive. That other human beings have feelings, and that this insignificant body, clinging to you like a newborn, was bursting with feelings for you.
I don’t know if I should be mad at you for leaving, or at myself for thinking that it would end any other way.
I don’t know how to tango, but I let you guide me with your two left feet for over two years. Now I’m stuck dancing the waltz of forgetting with your ghost. Our casual sways leave space for your name to linger, and every time his phantom hands twirl me around, your scent envelops me.
And I don’t know how I’m still in love with you when you’re in love with her.
I can’t turn that into poetry.
I don’t know how to make it beautiful.
Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 8:56 PM UTC
He sat in the strangest places,
always at the back
of the mahogany slide,
floated in the nicotine-cloud,
wore permanent shades
to hide his killer disease.
One look from him
could rip testicles off,
he foamed at the mouth,
sinned constantly
& sported scars
like racetracks
on his fractured arms.
Gold doubloons filled
the holes
in his rotten
teeth,
he seethed.
Only the fools
made him smile,
& they saw their end
come sooner
than they wanted,
'cause he loved
a great death.
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 8:36 PM UTC
You could be an antidote,
a place to hide during the summer solstice,
a pair of closed eyelids during nightmares,
you could be the sweater I wore last Christmas,
a frozen hand to hold in the Sahara,
the smell of the ocean at six in the morning,
you could be the overture of a play,
a love seat in a nearby cafe,
the gradient of colours of a twilight,
you could be the sugar in my tea,
the sound of the pouring rain,
a poetry that lasted for ages,
you,
my gruff voiced wallflower,
this I want you to know;
some love seethed,
some stay placid for years.
some lost their spark,
some still felt like their first day.
but we both know love is a test of fidelity,
a voyage that knows no bound,
so take my hand,
take your paddle,
if you'll row with me until sundown,
let us see where the seas will take us.
Mar 3, 2017
Mar 3, 2017 at 9:58 AM UTC
A carrion swarm had descended upon the desecrated ground by the time he had woken from his trance. In his wake stood withering flora, and the tenebrous scent of decay still lingered in the air. Cloaked bodies riddled the floor around him, and the pools of blood beneath had begun to sate the thirst of the soil. As he made his way toward his scythe, his footfalls singed the earth with a hiss. Never again would his path be untainted, but that was a price he was willing to pay. He found his scythe in the same place he last remembered losing consciousness, lodged in the chest of the final shadow high priest he had remembered slaying. The obsidian blade had run through the priest completely, embedding itself into the stone construct behind his lifeless corpse. With a stern grunt, he dislodged his weapon from stone and flesh, and swung it over his shoulder. It grows heavier the more blood it spills. Torment seethed with malice, and the runes glowing along its snath emanated a murderous aura. In ancient books it was said the scythe was called the Herald Of Fallen Stars, for it was known that those who wield it soon fall from grace. This did not dissuade him from making the blade his own.
Dawn was nearing its breaking point. He stalked towards the alter, ignoring the monolithic stone serpent with its eyes glowing red in the rising light. Those eyes have witnessed my sin, but before my time is done they shall see me turn this wretched land to cinders. In front of him a fountain stood, overflowing with malignant liquids. At its base sat a dark chalice. The scorched red crystals embedded into the cup seemed to scream heresy. He lifted the chalice and dipped it in the fountain, only stopping once the cup was full. Then he drank, allowing no drop to go wasted. A sharp pain struck his left arm, and before his eyes he witnessed it begin to steam, then catch fire. In a searing blaze, a single ring of fire bloomed and surrounded his forearm in flames. Through the initial pain he found himself empowered. The fire did not subside, nor would it ever, so long as he still breathed. He looked at his arm with a sense of malevolent triumph, and a cruel grin crept across his face. This marks the beginning of my ascension, and those who stand in my way shall know nothing but blood and agony.
Aug 26, 2013
Aug 26, 2013 at 4:53 PM UTC
You were the only grandmother I knew
who kept her hair long:
grey-white and slicked back
in a tight knot against your skull
with one black streak above your ear.
During your last visit the bun broke loose,
mane toppling down your spine.
My seven-year-old self peeked behind you,
expecting to see spiders
creeping out of the hoary webbing,
awaiting your command to crawl
into the tv set
my pillowcase
the toilet bowl,
hatching spider babies
until their army seized the whole house
and drove me out.
But instead,
it was your legs walking toward me,
your fingers clawing up my arm,
your lipstick-smudged mouth invading,
fogging my glasses,
whisper-growling:
*Don’t look at me like that!
You’re lucky your mother’s upstairs
or I’d put the paddle on ya.*
I think I would have preferred
the spiders.
Later, you took your cigarettes outside
and sat beneath the window.
Smoke drifted up the pane,
and I imagined you stirring it forth
from a gurgling cauldron
that sparked and seethed–
its smoky potion scent
of cobra venom and boiled hearts
lingering in your
witch’s locks.
Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 3:51 PM UTC
You say,
I'm not,
A keeper.
No,
I just escaped,
Your trap.
You say,
I'll always,
Leave her,
Please,
Just cut,
The crap.
I escaped,
The bear,
Claw,
By gnawing,
Off,
My leg.
Breaking,
All the,
Laws,
You forced,
Me,
To say.
I hopped,
Away,
Alone,
With no,
Hope for,
This stray.
Bleeding,
To,
The bone,
Going out,
Of my,
Own way.
Pain,
Stricken,
Face,
Sweat,
Down to,
My chin.
My shadow,
Asked for,
A race,
And I,
Let him,
Win.
I fell,
Face,
First,
Into,
A pile,
Of past.
Seethed,
Through the,
Worst,
For a,
Love that,
Will last.
Mar 26, 2012
Mar 26, 2012 at 6:44 AM UTC
We all laughed at her in her seamless white gown
As it folded around her on a barstool in a crowded club
She regarded us with the solemn eyes of a brooding child
Her hair curling and twisting down to her waist
Frail opaque hands holding her chin upon the wooden counter
An untouched apple martini right under her nose
Soft opalescent wings unsettled among writhing bodies
Brushing past her crushing her feathers
We called her a fool for walking into a place like this
Ignorant of the taste of desire and the sweetness of alcohol
She glanced at her foreign reflection waving in the red liquid
Her lips moistened as her fingertips sought the chill of the glass
There was no more laughter as we observed her in an anxious silence
Not fully aware of this pinnacle point in time
The first drop of apple seethed into her tongue
Her wings shivered violently and beautifully as they burst into steam
Her unconscious fingers tore the thread around her thighs
The dress now translucent and sensual, clinging to her curves
With the last sip of that poisonous apple her ruby lips curved into a tempting smile
A strange luster came into her hooded eyes as wisdom became her
She had welcomed the forbidden fruit
Feb 13, 2011
Feb 13, 2011 at 2:03 PM UTC
they drip from your lips
roll off of your tongue
fatal to my heart
just like a gun
you spit them in my face
like poison or venom
they twist and distort
no truth to mention
talking bout lies
i trusted you completely
until they came along
now they are your melody
flowing like a song
more intricate than spiders webs weaved
growing and mutliplying
becoming fermented and seethed
talking bout lies
they sting and burn
slowly wounding my soul
my heart now shattered, jagged
never again to be whole
they will all crash down
catch you up one day
for all the wrong, all the hurt
you soon will repay
Jan 24, 2012
Jan 24, 2012 at 1:19 PM UTC