"superciliousness" poems

“SHAME ON YOU” By: F. Panerio Shame on you! Charlatan Shame on you! Phony Shame on you! Hoax Shame on you! Larceny Shame on you! Debauched Shame on you! Mendacious Shame on You! Superciliousness Shame on You! Snootiness Shame on You! Scoundrel Shame on you! And shame on me! If we both alike!

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Jun 24, 2010

Jun 24, 2010 at 6:56 PM UTC

ferdinand-panerio

SHAME ON YOU

“SHAME ON YOU” By: F. Panerio Shame on you! Charlatan Shame on you! Phony Shame on you! Hoax Shame on you! Larceny Shame on you! Debauched Shame on you! Mendacious Shame on You! Superciliousness Shame on You! Snootiness Shame on You! Scoundrel Shame on you! And shame on me! If we both alike!

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Dear Magenta, I hope this letter finds you in better spirits than I. It has only been three days since I was allowed pen and ink. I have spent the last two days trying to decide what it was that I wanted to convey in this message. Once I decided, I spent most of today locked in my room beginning and destroying this letter. The floor is littered with scraps of paper, upended preludes. There is so much to tell you; beginning is near impossible. We will do our best, I suppose. I want you to know foremost that I have never hated you. I want you to know that I only wanted to see our project to it’s inevitable end. I wanted to be done with you, I wanted you to leave me to my own devices for a while, I wanted to be able to refresh myself and renew my spirit. You, my antagonist, should have allowed it. Alas, you’ve always seemed to be ignorant of my need, or to have other plans altogether. It is a clever ruse that you have put together. You would speak to me of my own betterment. You would tell me that you were only trying to strengthen my resolve, to make me somehow improved. And how I believed you! How I wanted it to be unfeigned! And, I do wish ever so that your efforts were pure. But, where you see me, you see a buffoon, no doubt! What a folly you have made. I am aware of you now. My eyes are open and my mind fairly screams with indignation. I need you to know that I will not bend to your supplanted misgivings. You will not continue as you have these recent months. My confidence is returning and no anxiousness shall impede it. I know now, and have always known, that I am capable, and intelligent. You may find me unconventional, perhaps even unsavory, but I know that my intentions are pure and my efforts are honest and more importantly, well received! Now, you must also know that I know what to expect! When the time comes and you are confronted with my malcontented behaviors; you will project a moue and cry foul. I can almost see it in my mind’s eye! And, honestly, I’m looking forward to it. But, please do try to maintain a level of composure that is redolent of your years on this planet. With an unfortunate level of superciliousness, Obsidian -JBClaywell © P&ZPublications

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Dec 7, 2016

Dec 7, 2016 at 10:16 PM UTC

jay-claywell

Letter #1 (Red & Black)

Dear Magenta, I hope this letter finds you in better spirits than I. It has only been three days since I was allowed pen and ink. I have spent the last two days trying to decide what it was that I wanted to convey in this message. Once I decided, I spent most of today locked in my room beginning and destroying this letter. The floor is littered with scraps of paper, upended preludes. There is so much to tell you; beginning is near impossible. We will do our best, I suppose. I want you to know foremost that I have never hated you. I want you to know that I only wanted to see our project to it’s inevitable end. I wanted to be done with you, I wanted you to leave me to my own devices for a while, I wanted to be able to refresh myself and renew my spirit. You, my antagonist, should have allowed it. Alas, you’ve always seemed to be ignorant of my need, or to have other plans altogether. It is a clever ruse that you have put together. You would speak to me of my own betterment. You would tell me that you were only trying to strengthen my resolve, to make me somehow improved. And how I believed you! How I wanted it to be unfeigned! And, I do wish ever so that your efforts were pure. But, where you see me, you see a buffoon, no doubt! What a folly you have made. I am aware of you now. My eyes are open and my mind fairly screams with indignation. I need you to know that I will not bend to your supplanted misgivings. You will not continue as you have these recent months. My confidence is returning and no anxiousness shall impede it. I know now, and have always known, that I am capable, and intelligent. You may find me unconventional, perhaps even unsavory, but I know that my intentions are pure and my efforts are honest and more importantly, well received! Now, you must also know that I know what to expect! When the time comes and you are confronted with my malcontented behaviors; you will project a moue and cry foul. I can almost see it in my mind’s eye! And, honestly, I’m looking forward to it. But, please do try to maintain a level of composure that is redolent of your years on this planet. With an unfortunate level of superciliousness, Obsidian -JBClaywell © P&ZPublications

17

An angel flew past from where I stood today Her wings spanned so wide she covered the sky Casting a tender shadow above my head Protecting me from the sun’s vindictive rays For a moment, for that moment I found succor I found solace from underneath an angel’s wings. Gazing at my own flesh I discovered scars Scars from whence their nails had perforated my hands I found scars from whither their shackles of deception were secured… On my hands and ankles Daggers, stained with my blood still ***** in my back Where with superciliousness they stabbed An angel flew past from where I stood today…. My body a canvas of pain as blemishes of their whips titivates my skin For every laugh shared is nothing but a lash of wicked whips Blood clotting on my sliced wrists from when they opened their mouths Their razor sharp tongues sliced through every nerve and every vessel Finger nails pulled out to test my loyalty towards these masters My locks pulled out strand by strand to make sacrifices to my living “gods” An angel flew past from where I stood today Her wings gently caressing my soul Her touch a cure to my aching heart She whispered in my ear bringing relief to my over exerted mind Said she couldn’t take away the pain nor heal the scars Said my pain was a book of wisdom and the scars the illustrations Said it was my guide, a map I had to take where ever I went….least I got lost Sayamo Dikana

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Jul 3, 2016

Jul 3, 2016 at 5:06 PM UTC

sayamo-dikana

Least I got lost

An angel flew past from where I stood today Her wings spanned so wide she covered the sky Casting a tender shadow above my head Protecting me from the sun’s vindictive rays For a moment, for that moment I found succor I found solace from underneath an angel’s wings. Gazing at my own flesh I discovered scars Scars from whence their nails had perforated my hands I found scars from whither their shackles of deception were secured… On my hands and ankles Daggers, stained with my blood still ***** in my back Where with superciliousness they stabbed An angel flew past from where I stood today…. My body a canvas of pain as blemishes of their whips titivates my skin For every laugh shared is nothing but a lash of wicked whips Blood clotting on my sliced wrists from when they opened their mouths Their razor sharp tongues sliced through every nerve and every vessel Finger nails pulled out to test my loyalty towards these masters My locks pulled out strand by strand to make sacrifices to my living “gods” An angel flew past from where I stood today Her wings gently caressing my soul Her touch a cure to my aching heart She whispered in my ear bringing relief to my over exerted mind Said she couldn’t take away the pain nor heal the scars Said my pain was a book of wisdom and the scars the illustrations Said it was my guide, a map I had to take where ever I went….least I got lost Sayamo Dikana

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