"stranglehold" poems
**The band starts playing at a ***** and crowded backyard.
Rebellious youth gather to cast their vote with the stomping of their doc martin boots.
Beer cans everywhere, everyone's trying to let loose the raw stranglehold their society has produced.
The guitars go off and the ritual begins.
First they assemble in the heart of the pit.
In the center individual tragedies bring fourth the wrath of a God's army.
Anarchy you call it, Ha! I call it reassurance, reassurance that this anger is surely communal.
I never saw it more clearer, the youth's power to resist: If the government wont hear us, we will create our own sound even under the batons of fascism, we spit on your rule, your control of our art.
We wont bow down to a law with our names written all over it, while another politician walks free from corruption.
While another officer guns down an un armed child and calls it self-defense.
While suspicious mass shootings continue to occur and mass cameras grow in recording.
While you send more people off to war for another countries resources.
These thoughts explode out of me into shoves, screams, ****** cuts, reckless behavior, and then finally release. Pure psychiatric release.**
Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 5:36 AM UTC
**** me, ***** beasts!
Ravage my mountains
And drain them
—a million mosquitoes on my skin;
Burn me, wooden hearts!
Watch me as I am consumed
By toxic fire
—a million ashes in my eyes;
Choke me, my children!
Rob me of the air of my lungs
With your stranglehold
—a million claws on my neck;
And when you are done
And tired from your ***********
I shall cover you in the darkness of your making
And you—
Like a forgotten dream
—shall perish.
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 4:35 AM UTC
Through the darkest of turbulent times
A simple touch can spark a flame
A flame of hope
that grows into
a fire of unyielding will
A fire that burns eternally
turning to ash
the dangers that stand
in my way
A simple touch of skin
a brush of care
ignites an infinite
of passions
to destroy the might
the stranglehold
of the surrounding
darkness
One touch
that's all I need
A simple touch
A delicate brush
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 9:40 AM UTC
Impregnate your old crock squirtin'
Papier—mâché blackball on the *****
Oglin' for upshot
And whatever frigs our orifice
Yeah Ducky **** **** it bud
Milk the meatiness in a snog stranglehold
****** all of your bazookas at once
And unclench into ventilator
I like dung and tinsel
Shandy ****** fuss
Breedin' with the puke
And the Weltanschauung that I'm in statu pupillari
Yeah Ducky **** **** it bud
Milk the meatiness in a snog stranglehold
****** all of your bazookas at once
And unclench into ventilator
Like a punctilious Zeitgeist's nincompoop
We were born, born to be unstatesmanlike
We can spirt so penetrating
I never wanna croak
Born to be unstatesmanlike
Born to be unstatesmanlike
Mar 28, 2010
Mar 28, 2010 at 5:05 PM UTC
Galileo Galilei--
Physicist, mathematician,
Astronomer, philosopher--
You angered the Roman Inquisition
And later the Pope and Jesuits as well.
Your scientific observation
That the earth moves around the sun
Was deemed a heretical revelation!
Spreading ideas "contrary to scripture"--
A risky endeavor and path to take--
Guaranteed life imprisonment
Or a gruesome burning at the stake.
Under pressure you recanted:
"The earth doesn't move around the sun."
They say that under your breath you muttered,
"And yet it moves." You lost, yet won.
Though you lived under house arrest
For years until the day you died,
Your scientific contributions
To benefit mankind cannot be denied.
It's sad when dogma and ignorance attempt
To force dissenters into compliance.
It's sadder yet that in this century
Too many people still ignore science.
Our thoughts aren't shaped from cookie cutters;
Beliefs don't all fit the same mold.
Praise to the thinkers who soar to great heights
And break authority's stranglehold.
Praise to those who dare to defy
Petrified positions or views--
Who challenge our mind-set and open our eyes
To truth and awareness, despite jeers and boos.
- by Bob B
Oct 15, 2016
Oct 15, 2016 at 8:55 AM UTC
Silenced
by a two-tongued tyrant
Who condemns with one flick
and licks the hand of hate
with the other
I shall never love
or find sister or brother
in the valley of silk scarves
wrapped around the root of creation
Deliver us Shiva
from the servants of dread Kali
Who don the mantle of civilization
but **** the faithful in the shadows
Oh foul deity of negativity
just once
please
show us who you are
Because your mask of kindness is broken
and the anger of your spirit
seeps out like a stealthy virus
Not bold and righteous
like the noble villain
But with a sheeps skin draped
over his foul devouring maw
If evil lurks and strikes
in the guise of the holy
Then you are greater than evil
A horror beyond the bounds
of acceptable wickedness.
Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 11:55 PM UTC
The power's out, I see them now;
They're lighting up the sky.
An hour 'bout, I don't know how,
Has quickly passed us by.
Those kids will shout, but they will learn,
And hopefully their parents yearn
For wealth to crumble up and burn
While staring at this starry sky.
The businesses' sarcophagi
Has no more stranglehold
On us for now, though soon it's nigh
To lose ourselves in bold-
ened signs that tell us what to do
And what to buy and who to sue.
But let's not worry, let's renew
While staring at this starry sky.
Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 11:52 PM UTC
*Skim milk masquerades as cream
Wolves self-ordain themselves as custodians
Of the “good” of sheep and that they’re a team
In the quest for universal good, poor proletarians.
A fattened up emaciation
That derails the pursuit for accountability
Paving way for many a loophole
A stranglehold on emancipation
The sheep simply merely sign a treaty
With fate to elongate their back breaking life before taking a stroll
In either heaven or hell, that’s if an afterlife exists.
The wolf menace is thus a malignant cyst
To “body politic”
Posing mind boggling potential harm, worth incisive critique.*
Feb 1, 2014
Feb 1, 2014 at 5:02 AM UTC
the devil in the details
retain the written
cast off the spoken
like the table scraps from
some dark kings feast
his richly clad hands gripping the meat
with stranglehold
the other clutching the spilled wine
his rages echo in stone hall
pronouncements of beheadings
and tax collectors greedy hand
poor king john and the riddles three
poor king john and his bride to be
poor king john and the fate he did not foresee
it was a bright kingdom
long ago
its glory days faded but still it shone brightly
rich in its fair folk and fertile lands
sit down here by the fire
take your ease
let me spin you a tale
let me weave you a storybook kingdoms dark fall
drink up your wine and steel your heart
for its a tale of a king
of love and lust
betrayal and blood
its a cautionary tale
of a young princess and the bright hopes
that blinded her
to the terrible man she loved
poor king john and the riddles three
poor king john and his bride to be
poor king john and the fate he did not foresee
she had come across the channel waters
in fine sailing ships
stood in the deck expectant eye to the distant shore
in her lace and silks and jewels a three
her hair flowing like a river of dark chocolate
her eyes of crisp blue
she was the finest of maidens
a princess caring and true
the kindest heart and the wisest mind
she thought she was destined to be a queen
but fate has terrible twists cruel and careless
cry now for this sweet princess
poor king john and the riddles three
poor king john and his bride to be
poor king john and the fate he did not foresee
all these years later it is a tale had to speak
so sit yourself down here by the warmth of the fire
gather the courage of your heart
for this is a tale to test the strongest not to break to tears
this is the tale
of king john and the kingdom of the forest
poor king john and the riddles three
poor king john and his bride to be
poor king john and the fate he did not foresee
Feb 1, 2014
Feb 1, 2014 at 2:09 PM UTC
Lucifer just said I'm two-faced;
But the reality is I wear many faces
Each one a mask
Picking a bouquet of oopsie-daises
Unabashedly lashing out at you
I eviscerate; wielding a scalpel
Then I pounce; scalped him,
Pelt dangling from my ***** pack
**Went Kerouac on ***** ***
Surprise, surprise
Palpable attack
Thumbing tacks into your eyes
Lame as a bad sitcom
Band-wagon careening off the laugh-track
Everybody loves disarray
**** Vamoose!
Underlying interloper
Feel the allusion in high resolution;
Little tike on the *****
Anne frankly I'm that Führer fomenting furor
Have you lost your marbles?
Inaudibly garbling warbled garbage
Mauled to death
**I **** narwhals**
Convoluted revolution
I revel in it
Elusive illusion
Testify, I bring the excellence in electrocution
I'm the executioner
Putting the fun in funeral
Like a neurotic necrotizing narcotic
A lobotomy to the temporal
I dreamt the demented torment of descent
Cascading like a torrential waterfall
Ghoulish delight
Primeval upheavaler
With hopes to elope, many fold
Mic bold, but I suspect she's hitting the slopes;
Ice cold
Evoking emotion but a hopeless show
marionette in a stranglehold
Mar 1, 2014
Mar 1, 2014 at 9:01 AM UTC
*Ever since time immemorial
Even before the existence of now defunct phenomenon
Society’s had a stranglehold on “goodness”, a fact not entirely circumstantial.
On the high pedestal of “moral high ground” it’s stood, a loose canon
At the behest of “moralists” and “immoralists” alike
Malleable to all manner of situational conundrums
Rubber-stamping all manner of questionable theatrics with lord like
Patronage, this artistic fashioned manner of duplicity detailed in compendiums
Of information passed down from generation to generation
“For posterity’s own good”
Rhetoric construed
To imply the wellbeing of every individual born.
Subject to the above I implore society to effective immediately
File for moral bankruptcy in the court of public opinion, humbly.*
Sep 26, 2014
Sep 26, 2014 at 4:34 AM UTC
The colour of addiction,
Transparent,
Translucent,
Visual in ***** dreamers,
Black minute slivers,
Black graphite,
Waxy as moon rises,
Poisonous,
She's a lush,
One on one,
She's out to steal your heart,
Corrupt you,
She's all out to catch you,
Hook line and sinker,
Product of a clever thinker,
Wants to make a buck,
**** some b****er with his muck,
Such evil *****
Mischievous tinker,
I met her on my way,
Played just once in steep stupidity,
She was lovely,
Delicious head fodder,
Chasing on as dragon dancers spewed their guts,
I was sensible,
Tried her once,on one occasion,
First was last,
Then I forgot her!
Never ever,
No more to dabble,
With her heart so fetching,
As such effect 'Smack' has!
She'll leave you wretched,
Retching,
While strolling on air,
Your feet ,
Well, the floor's not touching,
Head floats imperially,
Impervious to her stranglehold,
She is cruel,
Don't visit her,
Be not a fool,
****** in any guise,
She's so f**King uncool!
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
May 13, 2013
May 13, 2013 at 4:34 PM UTC
A hand springs forth
from the dredges of the pit.
A hand failing to knowledge its worth
with a will to deny it.
The blinding light of things to come
bright in its possibility
Chemical baths render sludge undone
clearing the way for eyes to see.
The weight of the land has tipped the scales
orbiting in its gravity
Quickening the mind that hails
and objects the dark's depravity.
Realize the void is important
yet small in its relevance
A calmness to lay dormant
for freedom is the recompense.
The stranglehold on the soul
will be released only when
you forgive yourself
for not being able to fill the hole.
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 2:29 PM UTC
reminiscing you—
back to the dawn when you unclothed all of the petals
so you can see what kind of love
he's made of & if he can
make the same love with you;
he would want to feel anytime again every touch
that scorched his skin that gave him
the wintry chill of fire
when you breathed him in it felt like an undaunted caress
of sea breeze to his soul & he carelessly
opened to your stranglehold
unafraid to die but also unafraid
that it was how it feels to be alive
like a sea on full tide
you love to drown whatever is on your hands;
wildflowers blossomed in the silent breaking of dawn
when he surrendered to you
by the rural seaside where
you plucked him
into stenchless strips that you laid on his palms when you were ready to leave with feelings he can't keep
& give,
strips you can never put back
once you unclothe a flower
of everything;
𝑫𝒊𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒕, you asked him with a gaze that
would make him want to be with you
but wildflowers don't belong to the sea
𝑨𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒘, you held his hand
& he's suddenly desperate to fall in love
that before you could ask, he lets you go;
this time by the seaside, it's sunny without you; with eyes closed
he stares into the blue
wondering where would he be now
—if he hadn't said no.
Feb 25, 2021
Feb 25, 2021 at 12:19 PM UTC
Do you remember the melody
of a sweetly sang blue silk symphony?
of my sharp breaths and moaning singing?
of cracks in my ****** expressions?
the ones typically tempered to turn my passion into passivity?
Do you remember when the accompanying
string snapped?
I went quiet, cold
couldn't sing for my stranglehold on my
selfishness and...lust? Yes. Lust.
Do you remember the difference?
The dissonance?
I feel like a **** and it's
so far from ridiculous
I don't feel like i deserve your forgiveness
guess what i'm trying to say is
I'm sorry and
though i don't know if it will happen again
because i'm new at singing this song
I don't want it ti
I need to know
all i need to know
is the harmony of the first night of the blue silk symphony
still echoes strong
(in the background, in the background)
and i just can't hear it because
lack of forgiveness ...whether my own for myself, or yours for me right now
( is such a loud sound)
( loud sound)
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 9:03 PM UTC
You are adrift.
Like a brilliant green leaf that forsakes its branch and floats on the air,
Intricate and carefree.
The winds change, and you travel the world.
You flit from flower to sky, twist and dance.
You don't know where you're going.
You don't need to.
And me...
Well, I'm a river.
I press the ground.
I know where I am, and I know where I will be.
Nothing stops my course unless it is
Catastrophic,
Cataclysmic.
Nothing sways or bends me
Unless it is a force of Nature.
I am heavy- I bore into the earth,
Carve a path agonizingly deep and slow,
But I rush along it even though I know it leads to more of the same.
Many things pass me,
Many things touch me.
But when they touch, they stay.
They are swallowed up inside me,
Drowned at the bottom of my passion,
Swept into me and carried forevermore.
For although it takes a lightning strike to change my course,
It takes only the lightest caress to change my anatomy
And make me new.
My bones are in the riverbed,
Cold and clear, my veins rush and eddy, stretching their fingers to tangle in the treeroots,
And if you but touch me for a moment,
You are in my blood.
You scare me, because we are different.
I feel the wind when it picks up,
It kisses my face and I kiss back,
But I always stand my ground,
Even when I might desire the freedom of surrender.
It is my way:
I am a river.
Seeing you wheeling in the sky,
I am afraid.
If you follow an errant gust or passing draft
Far away from me
And over the green hills,
I cannot yank my skeleton from the ground
And uproot my veins from their stranglehold on the dirt
To follow you in your flight.
I can only watch, gouged into the soil,
As you float closer and farther away,
Land upon my rushing pulse and leave ripples that reverberate
Long after you have peeled away to investigate some new breeze.
You spin away again, here and gone,
Close and distant,
And I remain, here in the ground, pounding with the pulse of permanence.
Oct 18, 2013
Oct 18, 2013 at 1:37 PM UTC
she gets nervous when a steady rain breaks out
he eyes jet across the grey sky
as her fingers grip a stranglehold on her
lace dreams
the rain cools the summer day
releasing its wet magics
to pool in the shallows
quiet in her revere she mumbles madness at the
sharp edge of afternoon
forlorn she wails in silent apocalypse
at the torn things that could have been
at the tattered flag of empire
which she grew up believing in
her sorrow knows no bounds
as her kinship to the trespassing moon knows no love
she will wait out the rain
hoping to heal
but knowing that only time passes
all else waits to be resolved in the crucible of dreams
the rain begins to ease
its liquid sound kissing the ear
as she moves into the remains of sunlight
she will survive
and so will her tears
Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 1:01 PM UTC
Let the illusion of loving take me
I am stronger than the oak
Let the stranglehold of hatred tempt me
I am slipping from it's grasp
Let mortality escape with those around me
I am understanding of life
Let misery abduct the heart of hearts
I am quick to recover
Let their lust rip the soul of the inner child
I am spotless resilience
Let life play keep away with my dreams
I am tenacious
Let enduring sleep try for me
I am chosen
Let the contention of family destroy the man
I am the phoenix
Let the struggles be many
I am not dissuaded
Let the enemy fill my heart with lies
I am believing
I am myself
I am all that I am become
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 6:51 PM UTC
what started as a touch,
became a stranglehold.
a distorted reality on the opposing side
of a clouded shield.
stripped of inhibitions,
and covered in loneliness.
a gentle graze, an eager smile,
and two glasses of deception
were the ingredients to a recipe
for sweet catastrophe.
as smooth as sandpaper,
contact would inevitably wear down
the other surface
to be as fine as sands of an hourglass
draining until the glass is empty.
Oct 31, 2010
Oct 31, 2010 at 6:59 PM UTC
Birth from a new mother
Excruciating pain like no other
Don't worry
It'll be well worth the fight
Imagine the love shared,
you'll heal
A young child falls on concrete
Scrapes and cuts cover their knees
Don't worry
A bandage and kiss make it alright
Its gonna be ok I swear
you'll heal
Now a thirteen emotional and mean
Father died a honorable marine
Don't worry
One day again you'll feel serene
Talk, confide, it's ok to share
you'll heal
4 years later give all your love to a player
Caught kissing another, what a manipulator
Don't worry
Your future holds someone far greater
Even though it's not fair,
you'll heal
Now 22 with some freinds taking shroooms
Feelings of doom, hallucinations of your tomb
Don't worry
Could be helpful all things you may exhume
As you become more aware,
you'll heal.
Just turned 25, dumb drunk but still drive
Oak tree & car collide, ejected you took a dive
Don't worry
Not your day to die, god ensured you'd survive
Even after the scare
you'll heal
After another decade, all interaction you evade
Fake is all you see, it's a constant masquerade
Don't worry
Friends come and go, so no need to be afraid
Know good and evil dwells everywhere,
you'll heal
Only been a little while, can't help to feel denial
Every single thought you get is sad & suicidal
Don't worry
Calm down and grab a bible
This life we have is rare
you'll heal
Fast forward 12 months, tenth date over lunch
This may be the one, it's more than a hunch
Don't worry
9 years married with kids, not one but a bunch
Family life can be rough, sit, here's a chair
you'll heal
60 years old, reaper has you in a stranglehold
Life flashes, turning cold, your creator behold
Don't worry
In the end life will force us all to fold
Never again will you feel dispair
you have no need to heal anymore
-Ajm
Sep 6, 2019
Sep 6, 2019 at 1:28 AM UTC
I need someone to hold me near when things inside get too austere.
But, who would want to fill that role when I for one am much too cold?
Some have tried to fix this hole, but all have ended up in my stranglehold.
It seems that the gods enjoy quiet malice when looking down on my calloused gladness.
Why do I seek out love and life, when I tend to cut them loose with a carving knife?
What better way to spend my free time than with rhyming and cursing the time and what's mine.
Jul 2, 2019
Jul 2, 2019 at 8:39 PM UTC
The problem lies
Not in the
Daily Grind
For everything
No matter what
No matter where
No matter how rich
Eventually becomes at some point a
Daily Grind.
It is part of the
Human condition.
How then do we stay
Fresh
Every day?
When we
Accept and embrace
The Daily Grind
Peacefully
As a fact of life
It loses its stranglehold
Over us
And in doing so
We make room
For the Creator
To step in
And transform
Our experience
From one of
Stress and
Struggle
To one of
Joy and
Serenity.
Invite the Creator
To give you
A new perspective
Fresh eyes to see
And
Your life will never
Be the same again.
Life is not about
Overcoming or
Escaping
The Daily Grind.
It is a fact of life.
Life
Is about
Getting a
Fresh perspective
That transforms this
******* into
Freedom!
Feb 14, 2019
Feb 14, 2019 at 3:10 PM UTC
Month by month
Week by week
Day by day
Hour by hour
Minute by minute
Second by second
The pressure builds
The stranglehold tightens
Like the monstrous coils
Of a giant anaconda
That is savagely determined
To squeeze its hapless prey
And ruthlessly quell every ounce of resistance
Until the poor rabbit realises
That it's all over bar the shouting
But I am not a rabbit
I am a mongoose
The mere sight of that ugly serpent
Fills me, not with fear
But instead, with rage
A rage so powerful, and so enduring
That I long to rip the snake
Into a thousand slimy pieces
With my shiny claws
As sharp as daggers
Until and unless Justice is served
We employees are accorded
The respect and dignity we deserve
Our dues are paid on time
And you, the employer
Finally show some transparency and accountability
And empower us with that freedom
Which you keep boasting about
But which we all know, is just a sham
Just like the training sessions you promised
The dedicated office setup
The addition of more employees
And of course, most of the incentives
Sep 20, 2019
Sep 20, 2019 at 12:08 PM UTC
i am so tired
of staring at these four walls
that define my existence
but whenever i leave them
i wish i was
in their stranglehold
embrace.
everyone wants to know
why i won't do this
or why i don't do that
or why i can't sleep
and i always tell them
that there is nothing wrong with me at all
and that would be true
if the small movies
of my childhood
didn't play against my eyelids
every time i try
to rest my tired
spine
daddy,
i am not
fine.
Jul 10, 2013
Jul 10, 2013 at 5:50 PM UTC
He has slain the Dragon
It lies unmoving before him
The light slowly fading from its emerald eyes
Draped over his weary shoulders
Is the dragon's fiery tongue
Its blistering stranglehold easing as it dies
Dragon blood of the purest blue
Splattered across his scorched chest
His valiant heart still beating at the speed of light
Alongside his sword and scabbard
His heavy shield lies shattered
caught by a single deadly dragontail swipe
Patches of its skin and thorny scales
Have covered his battered arms with scars
A forever present reminder of this epic night
He bows his head in solemn regret
To be standing here victorious
He had to take this magnificent life
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 9:18 AM UTC