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Hidden Secrets May 2015
You tame me
the same way the moon tames the Sun as they embrace each other during an eclipse
And the world watches in awe
admiring their beauty

You tame me
the same way the shore tames the ocean
because even though the ocean barks
crashing against itself like a wild beast
it becomes gentle as a mother
cradling her newborn
creeping in for a kiss
slow and delicate

You tame me
like a tigress being tamed by the king of the jungle
she dares not defy him
because if she does punishment is soon to follow
fierce
yet sensual

You tame me
Like a dominant taking control of his submissive
Making sure she knows who's in charge

You tame me
By battling my demons with your own

I allow you to tame me
Because I love you
Violet Rose Feb 2015
My dear lover, why did they put me here?
Reckless in authority
     Pushing, pulling, straining, taming
Trying to *tame
me
     Tame you, tame us, tame them!
Would someone please try to tame them?
     Save them, save me, save us, love
They did it because of a love
     What's so wrong about love?
Whipping, striking, beating, bleeding
     One hit, two hits, three hits, four
     Five knocks me to the floor
Sit up! Stand up! See your ****** mother cry!
     I'm sorry brother for lusting lies
Lies told and lies seen
     Lies for things which you define me
Kick the chair from beneath my feet
     A noose hangs loose from this old tree
As my neck strains against these strings
     Last thoughts wonder to Adam & Eve
Who ate the fruit which planted these seeds
     The poisoned fruits are *you and me
February 12, 2015 - 14:12
Ira Aug 2018
The bird of the Hermes is my name,
And I eat my own wing to keep myself tame.

Through hellfire and fury, your armies are dead,
Becoming slaves of my hellish dread.

Yet the blood flows deep into the ground,
And I, the vampire lord, will absorb it with glee and proud!

The bird of the Hermes is my name,
And I eat my own wing to keep myself tame.

The jackal and casual, instruments of my cleansing light
All burn with there masters own hellish spite.

And the monsters of  kin, vampire and demon,
All meet the same end of hellfire as I once did, all to be seen as heathens by god and real men.

For the bird of the Hermes is my name,
And I eat my own wing to keep myself tame!
HELLSING *****!! Best anime, Alucard is the best character from the Seinen scene. And just in general. So here's a poem that  is taken from his perspective
You're watching, judging, and assuming
You don't understand why I do what I do. 
Why I obsess over little things.
So stop trying to
The world is my oyster
But without the beautiful pearl
Just a plain old shell, in a plain old world

It's a shame you'll never know the brilliance
All you're capable to understand is the madness.
Insane, sane
Heart, or brain
Ferocious , tame
Take two breaths and stop breathing all together.
Turn your self to useless energy, forever.

Welcome to mind of the mad.
The queen of the asylum
A dapper old castle in the brain of a girl.
Who is tortured yet pampered in her own little world.
Wide Eyes Sep 2016
(Part 1: http://hellopoetry.com/poem/738250/almond-eyes/)

Come spring, she leaped across the grassy dune.
In her ageing almond eyes, fresh wisdom strewn.
Unthought of now- he who had once been her all.
In a forbidden forest, a smiling lean buck stood tall.

Come summer, standing afar she did quietly spy;
Studying his ways from the curious corner of her eye-
How chilled he liked his water, how green his grass…
A polite little nod if ever he happened to pass.

Come monsoon, away she cast the lessons of the past.
Throughout their graze, on him her gaze.
Playful fights they feign; adorable moments in the rain.
She’d fallen tame; her clumsy hooves not to blame.

Come winter, cold truths in the icy winds blew her way.
Her lean, smiling buck wasn’t really hers per se.
He smiled much the same at myriad doe and antelope,
Yet, in her shivering heart flickered the scantiest of hope.

Come fall, she finally forsake her futile trail.
Turned her back with a swish of her bushy tail.
Beaming with sheer joy, she hummed a halcyon tune twice over.
For bucks would come and bucks would go, but the river’d go on forever.
A sequel.
Amir Jun 2010
i think about
a lot of things
and most of them
don't stay for long
but if i had to
sum it up,
for you,
i think i'd try.

i think about my memories
and replay laughs
and lessons, kisses
and the first time seeing
people who i now know well.

i think about the near future
and try to tame expectations
and try to focus on the now
but sometimes it
gets tough.

i often feel like
dipping in and
out of life like
something rolling
back and forth
along the wave break
resting now and then.

but mostly i just
think of that
which is before me
like a map or
flower or a shadow
or whatever form i find.

so when you asked me
what i think
it at first seemed
a riddle, for
i'm not sure
that i think at all
now that i
think
about it.
Amir 2010
The secrets of the night are in this breath of mine
They have come to quench your thirst
Can you see their gentle aching here defined
Caressed by love in a mist
Unrehearsed

Can you tame the shadows in this lovely mist
Drink the secret’s dew
It lies here infinitely my eyes insist
The spirit of our past
Waits anew

Listen to the harmony each breath holds within
As you taste the secrets of the night
Here together, our elsewhere is forgotten
The spirit of our future
Is in sight

The secrets of the night lie in our breath entwined
Caressing our souls unrehearsed
You can feel their gentle aching here defined
When you tame the shadows
Of your thirst
Copyright *Neva Flores @2010
www.changefulstormpoetry.blogspot.com
www.stumbleupon.com/stumbler/Changefulstorm
Mikayla May 2015
Can you hear her voice?
It shakes her surroundings.
So much pain so much anger.
No one can tame the beast inside.
For she has been lost,
for far too long.
She has been beaten and battered.
It had gone on for far too long.
Can you see the slashes on her wrist?
The scars that dwindle among her body?
The scars that are there,
but are hidden?
Do not let her fool you,
for she has been lost for so long.
She will fight until she dies.
She will not be broken,
again.
She has lost so much inside.
The scars on her heart,
that only she alone can feel and see.
Her lover was lost out at war.
Her child taken from her bare arms,
and slaughtered.
She no longer waits for death.
She wishes for it,
every night.
No one can tame the beast inside.
sara Jul 2018
I wipe marker off the board, and
I have a painful tendency of quickly growing bored.
I can't erase the ink-spots lingering
in high-up corners;
to spare the self-defeat, I teach myself how to ignore them.

Ignore the marks, and stains, and pains
pretend I'm wiped clean, all the same
with little left to lose or gain:
I leave them; growth is self-restraint.

Perfection is a non-existent notion,
so they say;
yet, unobtainability is all I can create.
For in my mind, these false ideals make tame desires stray,
and self-destructive pleasure is my antidote to pain.

I think I'm like a little plant
of stunted growth, just seeds to start,
my plantpot made from breaking hearts:
before I grow, I say I can't.
Before we accept something we must first wholeheartedly reject it.
/////
like England winning the world cup lol

////
Joking, I just use humor to mask my emotions x
Holly Salvatore Jul 2014
Let us both pretend we can tame each other.
Let us both pretend we're not mountains,
but people who fit quietly inside houses
Let us both pretend that our water runs
slow and thick like blood, instead of
unchecked and tenebrous as oceans
Let us both pretend we take tea like humans
in the afternoons
we are not deer, and we are not running,
we are not hawks, and we've never felt
the squirm of rodents in our claws
we've never felt the lift of a sudden wind

Let us both pretend we can tame each other
with nothing more than our will
That we're not lightning, or tall trees,
or echoes in canyons
older than time
*We are storms and we are breaking
somewhere over to the West
Elephant seals
gross and flabby
ignorant of protocol
ponderously scratch.

Uniformed unicorns
importune
tame peacocks
wearing pink petticoats.

Fluted columns fade
at twilight
into the secrecy
of a passing thought.

Toy soldiers
on parade
fragile, glittering
lost.
Don't think to control me
I dare you, think again
You want a gentle lover?
I'm sorry, I am the fury

Never attempt to tame me
Because my flames will burn
I'll strip away at your soul
Careful for what you yearn

I'm no gentleman from books
This beast will tear you apart
This lust can never be stopped
Because it will take you, hard

If you're looking for sweet love
I apologise, that's not what I give
For my punishment will be harsh
I'll give you a lesson, on how to live

Don't think to control me
I dare you, think again
You want a gentle lover?
I'm sorry, I am the fury
Copyright © Chris Smith 2015
One day I will depart the train at a station without a name,
Pull emergency cord and take the plunge thru parted doors.
I'll pack no suitcase or bindle, in my head young, free and single,
I will be a living swindle - wherefore art prat poet of before?
New job doing something I've shown no interest in before,
Change my name to 'Neville Moore'.

I'll do a Reginald Perrin, leave red herring threads at Sherring-
ham, then dice-rolled palookaville of new self I shall explore.
When Palookas call me Neville, they won't see this wasted rebel,
But numpty Neville, on the level, who misplaced his wasted days of yore.
Amnesiac clerk stoical over mist-shrouded days of yore.
Only knew my name was Neville Moore.

Neville will moonlight at night-school, pick up a trade that's practical,
In minimalist digs post-dossing on unforeseen saviour's floor.
Time's sandstorm obscures lyrics, John Doe-penned hieroglyphics
- lost soul Lysander's from Norwich. His mind shut like a shoved closed drawer
To Poesy's Pandora's box of ******* in indigo iron drawer
In Norwich. No bones to Neville Moore.

Neville will be a straight arrow, nice chap whose mind is narrow,
Tepid tryer temping at call-centre, lockjaw forevermore.
The blandest of mystery men, what was Neville's name again?
Man with no memories blends in; my dead ringer, stunky, strong-jawed.
Eye-witness testimony of 36 years will gladly be abjured
- done myself good deed poll: Neville Moore.

I'll  abscond so left Lysander might be eternal loose end, the
Inner poltergeist confined to an indigo iron drawer.
Tomorrow I'll do a John Stonehouse bog-snorkelling, a grandiose
loser who fled being infamous in his own dinnerhour, a bore
Unto myself.  I'll abandon ship,  then life will be less of a bore,
Being much more boring Neville Moore.

And I'll meet a girl called Sybil, Palookashire an idyll,
Where a man with no past can just wash up upon the shore.
For if child is father of the man, Neville'll be an upbeat orphan!
Labels torn off the clothes from Oxfam what Memory's Outlaw wore,
Newfoundhometownbound Mister X such clueless clothes wore,
Clean the pockets of Neville Moore.

Sybil won't be the type to probe, at night she'll pop her Zopiclone,
Cuddle up to normal Neville, earnest the embrace of average amour.
We will rent a little bedsit and expend a lotta effort
To make our place seem white-picket-fenced, tho'  we resided on 3rd floor.
Down updrafts of Fate, untempted to faceplant from the 3rd floor
Is plain ol' sane ol' Neville Moore. 

No temptation, but something racing, the unexplained midnight pacing,
And murmurs in Nev's sleep there's reams in an indigo iron drawer.
But in daylight we'll have daughter, from nowhere the name 'Cobania'
(Nev wouldn't dig Nirvana, fin de siecle scream's aural chore,
nihilistening not for Neville in zen of playful household chores).
Shrug-a-lugs of numb Neville Moore.

Neville wouldn't get promotion, Neville doesn't have much gumption.
Frankenstein's **** domesticus by design, Nev's a swollen snore.
Lice would have mocked, 'Call this living?' Lice is dead, would always give in
To windmills' wheeling withering, watched like a raven, set no store
In what life we have worth living, which is what life life has in store
For unquestioning Neville Moore. 

Neville, don't be snarling slave to snafus by another self made,
Be complete now the only piece is the missing piece of the jigsaw.
Radio receives no 'roger', they won't see Cobania as a toddler,
But for famalam, there's succour: lines left in indigo iron drawer.
For Lice did leave literally living will in indigo iron drawer:
Poem entitled Neville Moore.

Nev and Sybil will have ups and downs, in facades cracks gouge frowns;
Castaway's fury in his eyes curdles Florida coleslaw.
I don't need Sybil's mithering, I mean 'Nev' dint, thinking about writing
- did we do Jack Nicholson in 'The Shining', too nuts too soon in Neville Moore?
Polter-Lice rattling in indigo iron liar's den re Neville Moore's 
Writer's shock swan-song for Neville Moore.

And sweet phantom Cobania, I hope she ends up saner
than her Canoe Man old man, sent reeling by subconscious southpaw
Of split personality punch-ups,  one-man-band fight clubs,
punchdrunk on bad self burps, tho' he burped Cobania with awe.
Pneumatically patting doting dad, errant soon so overawed
By humdrum Heaven, Neville Moore's.

Witness protection program to hide me from self-hate's hitman,
But Miltonic Satan's heart held Hell, for killer within is law
Unto himself. Thus phoenix photo album of my alter ego
To ***-end before Year Zero was burnt down, act of soul at war.
Greener grass scorched earth, everyman Eden sacked by selves at war,
Lysander negging out Neville Moore.

His ship's sailed ment'lly down the toilet - can't see the dream, it's ultraviolet!
Sybil wagging her finger with ****** of a fishwives' wappenshaw.
Cobania's cantankerous tween, Nev hears fin de siecle scream
- call the toilet 'Kurt', it's flushing the dream! Behold:  tombstone beneath 
                                                        ­    a sycamore,
Man from nowhere nowhere now beneath suicide's sycamore.
Quoth the engraving, 'Neville Moore'.

Beneath me to quote Ocean Colour Scene, beneath sycamore willow-leaned,
But day I caught train derailed: no malaise of glory, Anon no more.
Cobania in black with ***** highlights will grieve Daddy on the quiet;
Sybil indignant that the senseless,  existential eyesore
Option all her lost-and-found, found-and-lost, haunted hubbie saw.
Quoth the engraving, 'Neville Moore'.

Nev won't see Cobania grow up: she doesn't exist - s' good job!   
Yet I'll miss driving lessons and wedding, even if shaggy dog's dewclaw
Scratched itself out, vestigial scythe: Neville was never alive.
But this 2.4, 2.0 narrative smelted indigo iron drawer.
Cenotaph recast as mask, new visage's vista dark as in a drawer
Now quoth the engraving, 'Neville Moore'.

After Poe's misnomer, well, misnumbered: one short, 17 stanzas  
Ironically encode birthday of old dud cub who overroars
Last-ditch striped leopard, tame un-me. Lord Lucan, he WAS lucky
-  there's freedom in fake ID! But Neville grew sick, sick of me no more
Now as one two selves expire, same sigh of relief 'low sallow sycamore:
Thank **** Lice is nevermore.
My birthday is 17/05.
Rachael Taylor Apr 2016
I can’t beat these instincts
So many things I’ve lost
In this bittersweet hell
Can someone help me through this struggle
I can’t manage myself

So what if you see the wildest side of me?
Don’t hope that you can alter this devil, so long subdued
Please persuade me, it’s an illusion
Can somebody help me tame this demon
(This devil, this devil)

Can’t beat this devil
So many times I’ve tried
It is out of control
Can someone help me through this struggle
I can’t manage myself

So what if you can see the wildest side of me?
Don’t hope that you can alter this devil, so long subdued
Please persuade me, it’s an illusion
Can somebody help me tame the devil I released
Please persuade me, it’s an illusion
Can somebody help me tame this demon

Can someone get me through this struggle
I can’t manage myself
Can someone help me through this struggle
I can’t beat these instincts

So what if you can see the wildest side of me?
Don’t hope that you can alter this devil, so long subdued
Please persuade me, it’s an illusion
Can somebody help me tame the devil I released
Please persuade me, it’s an illusion
Can somebody help me tame this demon

The devil I released
chuckae Aug 2015
Tame my wild heart,
this violent beast
beating through me.
Encaged in my ribs,
it threatens to beat
right out of me.
I stopped living
in my dreams,
the day that I woke up,
but my wild heart
raced away the
heart break.
And left me
with a whole
in my ribcage,
were the notorious
creature used
to be.
Alexander Klein Oct 2013
I

In eras weird with old mythology,
As if asleep the fabled country lay:
Her wave-like hills and faerie forests dense,
Her thorny brambles budding curling claws,
And ivy circling all the woodsey way --
The far swan's cry came soft and woke them not.
Forlorn, that selfsame call upon the gates
Did break; those gates of Britain's long-lost keep.
She too slept fast, the weary weathered stones
Of fairest Caerleon. O pulsing stream,
Thou vein of life in woods a-slumber, Usk!
Alone are you in knowing castle's face,
From years of timeless burbling at her feet.
What tales are told by water over stone?
What lark or wren can sing of sadness come?
Aye, answers are the beach-wet sand, yet hark!
Rejoicings spilled, proud hails, from Caerleon:
They cheered the ****-frost's melting with the Spring;
The holy Gwyl Fair y Canhwyllau
Had come at last, in foliage of dawn.

Within, their goblets sailed, wassailed, and crashed
Like growling Jove, their boasts and toasts like wine --
They drank it spiced and over-strong. Indeed,
Some stretched exaggerations: 'twas Sir Bors,
That spotless sheet, who tried to contradict.
He quoted purifying texts and spurned
The wine that nature raised and crafted sweet.
Yet "Loosen up!" uproared the host to him.
"The time has come to celebrate," said Kay,
Beloved knight, step-brother to the King,
"Aloft thy wine, below thy gills! Drink! Laugh!
Your stomach is a falsehood-spewing fool,
It must be drowned for you to feel a lord.
I speak a sooth, you need wine's fleeting bliss!
Know thee that man's tomorrows bleed him dry:
A wade through death and depths as sure as pain
That shall tomorrow light your brow. Laugh! Drink!"
Bold cheering spread with Kay's advice, though yet
To no surprise Bors turned aside the drink,
Unblemished bore, so celebrates alone.
Weep not for him, for soon he'll find a cup
More suited to his strange of chaste and grace.
And none to waste: his share was drunk by all.

Engaged in feast Owain ap Urien,
Engaged in tale now Bedwyr and Kay,
And Lancelot made eyes at Gwenevere.
It was a feast of great success and joy
As fitting of the season's robust gleam,
Yet two there were with shallow-rooted smiles.
Prince Mordred one, though ever-somber he:
Accursed spawn with bone in place of heart
And dreaded incantations for his blood;
His brooding perched like crow on him. Alas:
The other joy-bled man had beard aflame,
A bear-skin drape, and crystal eyes, the Lord
He was of Caerleon and Mordred both.
'Twas not the gleam in lover's gaze that vexed
Though it was seen; he had no heart in him
To chain his Queen as if in dungeon steel,
For Arthur lived believing to be fair
Was paramount, to even paramour.
It wreaked its toll, yet caused small grief this day.
Not even serpent son gave cause to mourn
That greater was than missing nephew's spot
Among the feast. His chair was naked bare
Returned though he should be from faerie quest.
At Calan Gaeaf they expected him
When winter storms had racked their shoddy hall,
Yet since, the months had rolled to Gwyl Fair
The milder season come, but not his kin.
The image of his maiméd corpse did taunt
And haunt the agéd mind of Arthur, King,
His phantom nephew slain anon by knight
That of no flesh was made. In year that died
This green-mailed knight arrived a guest and called
Infernal challenge. Trick it seemed to them
And trick it was, for subsequent the blow,
This seaweed knight did lift his severed head
And from dead lips he cried "Well struck! Now come,
Fulfill me of my game. The year to come
Shall see thee in my home, and as agreed
My turn 'twil be to answer with my axe."

So rapt in recollecting, Arthur missed
The growing clamor that beset his hall.
His ******* cleared the grief from him with taunt,
To bring him into grief. "What say thee, Dad,"
Dripped venom from his mouth, "No love for us?
Your hail we called, but disapprove your eyes.
Methinks that far away thou seest a dream
That visits oft the elderly: a place
Thou knewst when in thy prime, with love
Now filled to burst. Yet fear us not, away!
To land of youth far more beloved than we
Whose happiness with thine own heart is twined."
"My fellow, soft!" the King began, distressed,
Yet Lancelot rose to his feet and spake
"Blackguard is he who mocks our Lord to face!
Thou palest hide, thou Mordred, sit thee down!
This sniveling craven knight should be replaced."
A sounding of the table met his speech,
Again was hailed his toast, and Arthur glad,
Though burdened to his breaking point, and sad.

"Blackguard is he who mocks our Lord to face,"
Had spake his bravest champion and friend
With no regard to Blackguard wrapped in stealth.
See how his roughspun fingers coil in hers
And how some sweetened whisper 'scapes her lips?
The beams of color-stainéd light slip down
To play upon their blissful sin almost
As if King Arthur's King approved on high.
Sovereignty is ruthless, Arthur thought,
Well-wishings of my God grow ever-faint.
I must believe in good though I am ill,
Just as I find my countrymen displeased
Though I did calculate my every breath
To see that it did stand with God's own will
To help my common people from their murk.
I fear I am not what I wished to be,
And now my only solace peaceful death.
If up to me, I'd wish it in my bed.

What horn's blare? Hark! King Arthur roused from thought.
Court gatekeeper Glewlwyd Gafaelfawr,
Dressed plain in brown, took down the horn from lips
And loud as elk called to the hall "Have cheer!
Sirs, drink another beer and wreath your brow
With springtime blooms, for lost knight fair is found!"
Old Arthur trusted not his feeble ears,
But came a hush and Lancelot confirmed:
"What **," he boomed, "our brother has returned!
'Tis grey Gawaine, aye, Gwalchmai! Drink his hail!"
The uproar was enourmous: "Gwalchmai! Cheers!"
Was like to wake the sleeping wilderness
That hung suspended in the myth and mist.

II

Astonishment had come like breaking wave
Upon the thirsty sands of monarch's face
So long consigned to reap the low-tide's grief.
When Arthur's ursine hand clenched round his cup
And hailed his nephew's presence with a roar
Long lost to hibernation's hoary spell,
The hearts that beat in armor under him
Did swell to find their lord with cheer at last;
The toast they drank so hearty as to give
Sweet Dionysus pause against excess.
Though only two there were who did not drink,
And one of these were Bors, a sadness fell
Once more as tangible as any wrong
That chose to haunt a hall. 'Twas Gwalchmai grey,
The conqueror now home from quest to rest
Who would not lift his eyes to meet the King's.

"Has cheer so fled from you? Your life remains!
What black has inked you in?" the King did ask,
And silence overtook the hall to hear.
How strongly then did Gwalchmai wish to leave,
To blend once more his form to root or branch
Or soaring river. Wind, the songbird's muse,
Had been his fast companion on the road,
For known to him were many things. He was,
They say, some god that stalked the minds of man
In young enchanted places of the world
Though all his magic helped him not at court:
His shyness was a leaf obscured by rain.
Yet even gods of silence know to speak
When words of pain encircle heavy hearts.
He let them fly, birds in the sky, he said
"I failed. My quest was long and arduous,
The seasons changed while I in heather lost,
The moon its phases shed as fen-frogs called,
I floated through the endless cloying mist
That flows, a ghostly sea wrapped round our isle.
The path had nearly drowned me when I found
The chapel green enough to spell my doom.
When entered I, methought "It cannot be!"
So kind and courteous a host met me
That would have been disgrace to call him green.
He feasted me, and warmed my wounded bones,
Yet I betrayed him in the end; I failed.
I stayed his guest, and friend, and swore to him
That for his hospitality I'd share
Each thing I won while underneath his roof.
And all was well -- I'd rest, he'd hunt -- until
His wife played hearts with me. I did refuse,
But by her final trick was tempted and --
So lost all knightly honor and renoun.
Her lusts I spurned three times, but on the third
She offered me that which my heart desired,
Instead of love she begged me take her boon:
A silken girdle sewn with charms, and green,
Deceit I should have seen. She said the spells
Would keep me safe from harm and spare my life...
When on my rugged journey all I'd feared
Was twisting face of death that loomed so near.
I could not help myself, it seemed so tame,
Yet when the time had come I could not share
That gift, or else expose the husband's wife.
Beneath my armor tied when left that place,
My secret wore me down upon the bog.
It seemed the mist grew thicker, wind grew swift,
I now know under spell was I, but then
It seemed some vengence coming to a head.
My tale grows long, and past the point am I.
The Green Knight and my host were one in fraud:
An airy insect's dream. His "wife," a witch,
Had formed him out of acrid moorland soil:
Homunculus to carry out her scheme.
The blow he owed me carried little force,
Though still this scratch is plain upon my nape.
And so you see my folly plain as oak:
For though I kept the life I feared to lose
My lie grows in me like a cancer bloom
That in the span of time shall **** me sure.
I failed; I'm gone; to revelry return."
The silence, vast again, gripped all the knights
And king too dry to cry, who drowned his heart.

III

"Is there some madness come to roost herein?
Thy folly is ridiculous," said Kay.
"I valued mine own life past honor's flame,
A sin of selfishness, and blame, and wrong.
What of the world, if all would act as such?"
A weeping noise he made, but choked it back
And turned to leave in shame, and might have done
Had not the stout Sir Kay gripped Gwalchmai's arm.
He raised it in the air and shouted thus:
"Percieve our stunning champion stands nigh!
Though of a frail ennobled heart, we know
Thou art absolved. This trinket given free
To aid in quest I wager was for thee.
And as for sacred broken vows, this man --
You said yourself -- was conjured from a bug.
You owe him no alleigance Gwalchmai, sit!
This serious you need to be for wine:
Come sit with brothers now! We drink to thee!"
"Dispel the failure all you can, it stays
As weighty on my brain. It was a sign
To signify the kind of soul I am,
To me it showed my grimy ills and plain
Did tell my shaping, shape, and shape-to-be."
King Arthur to this nephew spake: "My child,
Is there no antidote to questing's woes?
What has become of jousts and silver swords?"
The anguish in the old man's eyes so keen
To those who knew him. Gwalchmai did reply
"Your majesty, there's not a grief can ****
My bird-like love of questing through the trees,
For only questing can redeem my shape."
"Then let us have this quest!" cried Kay beside
Him at the table, deep in drink he swore.
"Come with me, brother-knight, to clear thy mood!
You do you wrong blaspheming at yourself."
The wine was quaffed by Gwalchmai, yet he said
"I first shall stay, I need to rest my ills."
"Your ills are that which keep you ill, good knight.
I bid you come and we shall quest as birds
Who savor springtime berries in the mist."
"I shall not go, I seek my quietude."
"In sunlight you and I must bask. Comply,
Or else I challenge you by burnished blade."
All eyes on Gwalchmai, under pressure cracked
Into a grin and downed his kykeon.
"In stubborness persisting, Kay, you've won,
A river such as I could not keep stead
Against a boulder. When shall we away?
When come the summer blossoms, fair and red?
Or else not til the saps have lost their leaves?
Departure yours to choose, my brother-knight."
Kay beat upon the table and their ears
When called triumphantly "This very day,
This very hour! To help those who need aid
On holy days shall surely fix your heart.
No time to wallow in the swamp that's gone,
We now away, to break our swords with day!"
"You mock me or you heard me not, Sir Kay,
I wish not to away, I wish to rest!"
The fairest Guenevere, like silver bells,
Chimed in "You must forgive your heart's despair,
Or emanations of its guilt will plague
Your mind. I have a lunar garden if
You wish to sit in soothing calm and think."
"My queen is holy," Gwalchmai spoke in grace,
But Kay had cut him off with "Hear her not!
She will ensorce your mind to not explore,
To sit and think and mold with lunacy;
Beneath the sun we'll tred. It's known on quests
I favor Bedwyr, 'tis true, yet you
My fairest Gwalchmai, keep your wits -- and arms --
Two things in need of we shall be.
I mean you no offense, dear Bedwyr,
But I and Gwalchmai share a severed soul
And shall succeed; two sides of selfsame coin.
So come my cousin grey, to right our wrongs
We must away, to break our swords and say
'My heart is glad I did not stay at home!'
Consume your drink! We go," he trumpet-called.
Thus Gwalchmai was convinced, and so was forced
To nod politely to his Queen and stand,
Declaring to the court "I shall away,
This gloomy mood is dried beneath the sun
Though dearly do I wish some lunar grace
To lose myself in mysteries anew.
To bear this flesh is weighty, yet I've found
The strain to be rewarding in its way.
Think nothing of my former woes, they've passed
Like summer storm or wisp of misty cloud."
The hall at large did drink his hail, and then
Did thrice more drink for quest to which they went.
And Mordred scowled and drank the foulest wine
For his monsoon and fog would last his life.

So summoned then Glewlwyd Gafaelfawr
To hearken unto birds, as was his gift.
He said to all, "I shall now call my friends
And see what worthy tales of quests they bring!"
"There may be naught on Gwyl Fair," said Bors,
"A holy day, all wove with peace. Nor Gods
Nor men would stir their strife this day of days."
"We all shall see," the gatekeeper replied.
Beside his King upon the dais came
And played a serenade upon his horn
That rang throughout the keep and lands beyond.
A time did pass with no response recieved --
Slain silent was the raptness of the court --
But then through open pain in stainéd glass
A thrush did bob and weave in melody,
On finger of the Queen he briefly perched
Before he flit away upon the air.
His song so sweet, but then - what fright! No more!
A hawk had entered, just the same, and swooped,
And now the thrush was silent in his claws.
The cabinet of augers all took note
And sketched their calculations into books,
Though none, in this, more wise than Gafaelfawr
To whom the hawk said "Hail, you man of rank
Who speaks the tongue of wing-in-air. Now hark!
'Twas not in hunger slew this thrush, but fear
That what I have to tell might go unheard.
My family, we roost near Cornwall's sea
And late, the noises off the coast grew strange
As if some evil kraken raged at love.
My chicks; my wife and I; we're simple hawks.
We eat and some of us are eaten, yet
Beware the thing that slouched from out the waves.
His shape is something like a boar, but huge,
He dwarfs his kin, and hill, and oak,
This hall is large, yet he'd be stuck inside.
He does not eat what he has killed, instead
He smears the bloodied flesh on stones and trees,
What man could face a fear that bears this face?
If you could hear the rutting squeals he makes!
I swear this sooth by wind and waving plumes:
You men who craft with metal, hark!
Destroy the beast!" And then he flew away
Still calling after him "Destroy the beast!"

The court at large had heard the warbling hawk
But did not know the tongue, so only watched
Glewlwyd's unease upon his face
Until with stiff and rasping voice relayed
The content of the predatory news.
Unease began to show among the knights,
For many there recalled a beast so shaped
And all the blood and guile he took to drown
The first time. Arthur, grim, forbade Sir Kay
And Gwalchmai face these perils by themselves,
But recommended regiment of steel
To bolster ranks against the fearsome boar.
"I know this foe from days of old," he said,
His years of rule etched rough across his face,
"And so do most of you, though many gone
And this monstrosity not even slain."
But Gwalchmai said "'Twas hard indeed to win
Those relics that he bore. Remember I
That Trwyth was the name he chose, and we
Shall best him fair. Though not for trinkets now,
But with the zeal of mother guarding young:
This foe, Twrch Trwyth shall not raze the land
Nor wage a war against some peaceful ilk
While rounded table can beco
Artic killer Mar 2015
Masters are cruel
Mine is kind
Masters use us as tools
I'm useful, he'll find

Masters are violent
Mine is just playing a game
Masters are tyrants
Mine is Self tame.

Masters are greedy,
Mine rewards
Masters are ugly
Mine is something to look towards

Masters have slaves
Mine has a servant who loves these days.
Just about my master
He Pa'amon Aug 2018
"And in a funny way, the shaving of my, uh, head has been a liberation from, uh, a lot of, uh, stupid vanities really. Uh, it has simplified everything for me, it has opened a lot of doors maybe." - Stephen Malkmus, Jo Jo's Jacket

the first layer of skin i shed
was the bra

rid of the foreign metal sculptor producing a deep rift between skin
my third eye, swallowing gazes

rid of my **** , my ***** , my rack
replaced with sacks of fat and nerve and milk ducts
hanging, existing, for no one else
not even myself

the second layer of skin was the painting of the face
the concealing and erasing of imperfections, the lines of laughter of sorrow of life
redirecting attention and importance to the bow and symmetry of the lip

no longer did i have to put myself on in the morning
i woke up as i was, as i needed to be,
bare and uninhibited

my skin now breathed, and for no one else
not even myself

and then i grew another layer of skin,
made of dank tangles to protect my age,
i stopped shaving the years i'd walked this earth, shedding my womanhood

the skin grew to my armpits, little tufts of sweaty, odorous mother nature dozing in a fleshy convex nest

and to my legs, were the tangles wrapped around my ankles
preventing the spreading of the legs for every life
for not every life wanted what was not tame
and what was not tame no longer wanted to be.

my body did not conform,
for it was not brought into this world to be consumed for the pleasure of others

it exists for no one else,
not even myself

and as i was engulfed in this hairy wonder of my own body
i shed the last layer,
the shaving of the head

my brain, my being breathed
porous and exposed
vulnerable to weather and whispers

but i was all at once naked and calm,
having finally peeled away the layers of ***** over-sexualization and constrained femininity that had molded this meat sack that serves me,
a bundle of circuitry and solution balancing and bobbing on the neck

for i exist for no one else,
only myself
inspired by the song Jo Jo's Jacket by Stephen Malkmus
Lizzy May 2015
Fabricated.
Fictitious.
A fake floating feeling
Falls short
Of my fleeting fantasy.

This insidious infirmity
Isn't what I intended.
I've been inflicted
With internal indisposition.
In need of an ideal identity.

Who am I without
This ****** to make me whole?
How do I heave my heart
Away from this hole?
Have you seen how hard this is?

But it's been short of a year,
Of believing I can simply be.
And before I break
Bleed me of my bane.
And for me, bear no malice.

Tightly take me
Away from my terible tempest.
Time tells me it's time to stop.
Too long I've tortured my tenemet.
Tame the tantrum tearing through me.

Sober seems strong,
But it's systematic survival.
Stopping the surrender
To something stimulating.
Learning to stand sedated.

No I'm no longer numb.
No longer neglecting me need
For new novcane.
Knowing I'll never need
This vaccine again.

You are all my ambition.
Dispelling my ailments
And afflictions.
I am hard to adore, I know.
You are my new addiction.

You have me dreaming,
Praying we are real.
Made me feel.
Don't decieve my brittle belief.
Keep me, don't leave.

I'm not the kind to fly.
For you i'd try to dive.
Unafraid I might die.
I don't hide from the night.
This is what I've been trying to find.
Sam Bowden Dec 2018
Shucking oysters is a dangerous task.
Only skilled, determined hands may apply.
Why so dangerous a task you ask?
Well, let’s see?
There’s the salt, the grit, the unforgiving need...
the slips, the stabs, the you and the me.
Our boats rock along a forlorn sea.

Sitting on the dock of my mind,
the sun's rays slap me sober,
as it refuses to set for seven hundred thousand nights...

Patiently present in the moment, I am, totally attuned to the task at hand.

She's anything but simple,
this complexly succulent woman I've stumbled upon,
Unearthed I have, with my bare hands.
Rugged exterior, jagged edges,
a clear warning for all to see.
But a gorgeous glory awaits the determined, the brave, the patient,
I have faith...

I have faith in such a glory beyond legend,
in such beauty beyond reason.
Just because something feels like a miracle,
doesn’t mean it’s impossible.
For if jade kissed a pearl as it slipped into the sea,
it still wouldn't rival her beauty.

We are a meeting of minds that could unfurl for all time.
As she lines her eyes in paint,
and stains her lips like crimson art.
She's always ready for war,
launching a thousand ships in my heart.

Like the Greek Odysseus,
I've sailed upon contentment's shore,
sipping your wine and eating your grapes,
now I only want more.
Eros, the bittersweetness, is clawing at my door.
I want to live with you in the gap,
between consumption and desire,
between winter's ice and between summer's fire.

Unknowingly I have,
peeled the wall paper from her frame,
where ancient tapestries shown from beneath,
a secret no man could keep.
The scars cut deep into the fabric,
marks of carelessness in love.
The family ties that tear,
the tears of lovers once here,
now there.

Warmth gives way to wind,
and fire gives way to need.
She pulls me close,
then pushes me back,
rocking along a forlorn sea.

And like the sea,
she breathes life into me.
A great roiling tempest of the heart,
with a fury that blows reason from the mind.

Tame, tame, squeeze...    l e t   g o.
Give it...       t i m e.

Still though,
questions fray at the edges of her mind,
and yet,
with the passage of time,
the sea will settle,
the tide will recede.
I have faith in love.
And faith in me.   

Sure footed I am, even as we,
not yet a "we",
dodging rain drops,
dashing through the city,
hand-in-hand, we don't slip.
I think thoughts, but bite my lip.

And while I sip, I think;
“She's anything but simple,
this dandelion seed,
floating in the wind.
Walls up, head down,
a determined doctor,
a surgeon steeled for the journey,
thawing beneath me she is...”

“The most beautiful immigrant I've ever seen;
On the platform of her mind,
she longs for a home, leagues from her homeland,
while I scratch at the dirt of my own.
Do I belong here?
Does she? Do we?
Where is home? Security? Acceptance? Belonging?
Who knows what the futures holds?
Allahu alam, not you or me.”

Uncertain of answers,
is this a mirage or a dream?
I can’t know for sure,
So I take heart in the Unseen.

I crack the oyster open,
and swallow it inside.
I sip life's ambrosia,
and breathe in the sky.

I'll crack The Pearl of Persia,
one kiss at a time.
An ode to patience in love.
Styles Nov 2019
I want to do anything you want to
cause I am open to anything that will get me closer to you
and just let my warm breath
caress you from your neck
to your breast
until the sensation
steals your breath from ever crevice
and when I'm finished
you won't forget
I engrained
in your vein
memory
burned
in your brain
you will never
be the same
We'll make this country great again!
I'll build that wall up high.

Climate change? Economy!
It's great! Don't wonder why.

I'll take care of all your needs and get you jobs you'll love.
Raise your right hand for the pledge and pray to God above!

Do your duty as a man and grab her nice and tight!
It's OK if she fights back, they like it rough, alright?

Civil liberties, really, who needs 'em?
Burn the flag? I'll just hang you for treason!

This country is first. To protect it is best!
Whose up for a fun little nuclear arms test?

Capitalism? Yeah, I'm the money master!
Pipelines! Who cares about ecological disaster?

Gays? Girls? Abortion? WOE!
If they want that, send em' down to Mexico!

I'll rule with blood and honor too!
I'll tame this crazy, jobless zoo!

I'll fight for you and family rights!
(Mostly for rich and mostly for whites!)

Minorities? No, I'm not a racist.
It's an alternate fact: Totally baseless!

America the great. America the free!
Put a bigger pair of **** on old Lady Liberty.

Goodbye all you immigrants!
All you do is steal and loot.
Leave a couple of 'em behind:
Someone's gotta pick our fruit!

Thank you all for choosing me!

This is very great and swell.

Prove that you will follow now:
Let's all go straight to-

Heil!
Ben Ditmars Jul 2014
lightning never
sees its fire burning
the trees

absent and forlorn
as love can be.

I can feel your
thunder on the
mountainside.

we will tame
the ashes, fan the flames,
and the pray the sky
returns to calm
forgetful sleep.

© Ben Ditmars 2014
Inspired by Ed Sheeran
You will not tame this sea
either by humility or rapture.
But you can laugh
in its face.

Laughter
was invented by those
who live briefly
as a burst of laughter.

The eternal sea
will never learn to laugh.
Noel Oct 2013
The Circle of the Mushroom Ring:
Apocalyptic Sanctification

Feasting I wonder when the crumble will begin?
Alas we wait with our circle like friend.
Darkness entwined the vines where I sit
This shall be a night we gnomes won't forget.

History, mystery they all fall down
The human like creatures know nothing in town
for when we feast from this beautiful ring
all us gnomes will dance and sing.

Singing of terror in shadows they fall
creeping through forests watching them all.
I feel the time it grows too near
my senses feel nothing but their unwelcome fear.
Burn...

Fire to fire and dust to dust
Burn the village with pleasant disgust
Reap what you sow and scream what you plead
Ashes they fall, ashes they bleed.

Our minds are tuned with the ring of fate
We are the gods we create.
A mindless journey to tame the souls
to fill our empty heart-seeking holes.

Chanting and dancing we cheer through the streets
the wind of fire such a beautiful beat.
The cries of the children echo in flame
as I mock there howls with laughter of pain.

Steady I walk designing it all
Flooded by voices of the gnomes violent call.
Releasing the rage, spear-stick in my hand
right through the head, bold where I stand.

The village simmers but we do not
Tearing apart what we feel should rot.
The ground is no place for the blood of men
ashes to ashes amen to amend
The cravings wont stop, or my eyes will bleed.
for the fate of mankind is the mushroom ring.

-Do not forgive us for we have not sinned
We bless mother earth through our beautiful wind.-
Dream Caster Sep 2014
You have nice teeth he said
Yeah, I replied. I've got these
thoughts in my head that I
never get sick, that I'm big
and strong and that my life
will be long.

Yeah, you know just what
to do. You've got the wolf in
you. Your friend is different.
He's not the same,
kind of meek and tame...
And I've seen the trolls,
some that are big.
Looked at their feet, tried to
touch 'em and I almost did.
But you know many things and
smart are you too.
You've got the wolf in you.
Rikiana Jun 2014
No doctor, I said
Watching his eyes flick,
From pity to surprise,
I am not bipolar,
I am an oxymoron.

I am a calm hurricane,
Making a mess everywhere I go,
and doing it with absolute grace.
A beautiful monster,
The girl you'd like to have around,
But can never tame.
An angel in agony,
With a heart of gold yet  hard to love.

Yes doctor, I explained,
It is the ultimate coaster ride.
When I am up, the view is great,
I throw my hands up high,
I live, I conquer.
When I drop,
I take the pain of the fall,
and turn it into art.

There's no need for pills dear doctor,
Why would you want to change,
This painfully shy extrovert,
The life of the party and the buzzkill,
The friend you hate,
The enemy you love.
This is who I am,
Perfectly flawed.

So no doctor,
I am not bipolar,
I am the soul in a robotic world,
A rainbow in a black and white film,
I am an oxymoron.
silent Dec 2013
angry is an easy emotion
it's easy to feel
easy to describe
easy to tame.
aggravation is an easy emotion
easy to feel
easy to describe
easy to tame.
annoyance is an easy emotion
easy to feel
easy to describe
easy to tame.
it's sadness that's the hardest
it's not easy to feel
when bed seems like the only place you're accepted
or when the simple task of breathing is daunting
how could that be easy?
it's not easy to describe
how do you tell someone you're dying inside
when you've been laughing all day?
how do you tell someone the sobs that attack your body
during the darkness & silence of the night?
how could it be easy to describe?
it's not easy to tame
how do you overcome the yearning for sleep? for death?
how do you overcome the blanket of numb that threatens everything
whether it be your movements or your process of thought?
how do you overcome something with so much influence?
how could it be easy to overcome?
Amitav Radiance Mar 2015
Inside the concept of time
World within this world
At the core, I realized
No relevance of beginning or end
Much we try to tame it
Time is our imagination
Past, present and future, transient
Concept of being there
When we change time after time
too many people taken by sharks, immmmmmm, we need to get the coastguards to guard

every beach on the ocean immmmmmmm please give these people who lose loved ones through

shark attacks, counselling immmmmmm help stop the sharks from attacking immmmmm STOP STOP STOP

calm the sharks, immmmmmmm try and discipline these australians, from getting eaten alive by sharks immmmmmm

please tame sharks, immmmmmm please tame sharks, immmmmmm please tame sharks

too many people are eaten alive by s h a r k s, immmmmmmm eaten alive eaten alive immmmmmmmmmm

please save people, have more boats on the water ummmmmmmm  to tame each shark ummmmmmmmm

help the people get saved by sharks in the ocean ummmmmmmm save each other lifeguards look after us ummmmmmm

THE SHARKS ARE DESTROYING OUR COUNTRIES POPULATION

THE SHARKS ARE DESTROYING OUR COUNTRIES POPULATION

THE SHARKS ARE DESTROYING OUR COUNTRIES POPULATION

ummmmmmmmmmm     ummmmmmmmmmm      ummmmmmmmmm ummmmmmmmmm
BarelyABard Oct 2013
Run your lips across my cheek
and whisper all the wild things that you seek.
The wants of those who rarely sleep
leave remnants that can make us
weak.

...and in these wants I taste your skin
and hear your longing sigh.
I grin at what they think is sin
and run my fingers up your thigh...

Within the spot beneath my sheets,
there hangs a spot I'd like to show;
where maps and seconds don't exist
and burning's all I wish to show...


The latitude
the longitude
will stop
as I dive into you.

The
tick
tick
tick,
The
tock
tock
tock
Will vanish as I smash the clock.

I'll pull you close and say your name,
and then without an ounce of shame,
become the man you cannot tame.
Gabrielle H Apr 2014
I can still remember my lover's name
because it sits on my tongue impatiently;
my heart shouts for joy, too happy to be tame.

The world moves together, all the same,
until my reality shifts, and takes me.
I seem to remember my lover's name.

Now I sit with a body gone lame.
And the rain outside is all I can see;
my heart whispers, too defiant to be tame.

Days bleed into each other - who's to blame?
I recall dry corn husks, and feel just as empty;
I try to remember my lover's name.

"Friends" come to visit, calling me by name,
but I lie and say they're slowing recovery.
My heart hides, too uncertain to be tame.

I know it's a Monday when I can reclaim
my place in the world, but unfortunately,
I cannot remember my lover's name
and my heart cries out, too sad to be tame.
Amanda Jean Jul 2018
They say deja vu is a glitch in the matrix
Repeating numbers is a sign from the universe
Angels scream my name from upside down on the ceiling telling me to quit looking at the clock maybe demons maybe I should pay the **** attention
222333444555666777whaaaaaat
That’s not a time
Time ain’t it
Time heals don’t it
But what is stagnant
Sometimes we’re dead
But we move fast
Together
In time
Travel
Through space
Through a line meet your soul face to mine
Hearts beat faster time moves with it that’s the reality so what are you doing
Taking it slow or fast it’s you or pass
Illuminati my life with your eye-seed to the sky can’t remember my thoughts don’t know why I even try
Try to finish a creation pieces of art are never finished close to what I think
Is completion I think I forget how to breathe I’ve got a blemish I cannot see I’m not sure what’s on my lenses sometimes i don’t speak please tell me what the bens is
Keep saying I’m haunted aight
Keep tellling em I’m doing fine
Life’s chaotic but that’s what it’s about
The blends of of the **** around
The hint hang ying yang huh
The freak shows births golds of stone (gh) yeah
But do you even know what the sheets is what if we really going to do da business man **** this **** I don’t know it I already told you I don’t know how to complete this I have no solutions I feel soulless and too much negative too much negative shitnitz my focus my pictures too big I don’t know how to control this I kept saying that I want to relinquish self but what I really need to do is help make a squeal tell em truly how I feel Queen lions roar from the jungles to the shores sideways animals judging their **** from the sidelines
Wasn’t the point making them feel the fire burning in mountain veins but what animals can you truly tame
Cavemen mocking snakes forming fires for the first time killing em with their own tricks man we keep repeating history with our imperialisthe ******* stupidest **** ever
Please excuse my individual
I’ve not much experience with taking over but with my experience we’ll have an experience we’ve never had before and from there our experience will be something to learn from we learn from experiences
I’m opening my mind and my forgiveness forget to forgive I’m all in forgetfulness can we speed to the completion of wishes I beg this from the bottom of my ***** soles to the top of my buzzed head I hear sobriety is the path to success but I can’t create in loneliness I bring pain and sorrow to the art party drown me out with ***** and bring me to my knees in grass prairies in heaven Reaching out for angels bind me in confusion it’s raining in my heart tea parties never breed working brains did they never tell you that in school? Keep teaching myself everyday yeah in the backs of tiny rooms on mountain peaks I breathe in tropical trees blurring all the lines that form all sorts of definition communication of my mind to yours, the shore at the end of the telephone game I lost the rhythm that goes to the flow I dropped the wand that brings flying wings I smacked the lips of the devil I kreeped in hell I’ve been told I’ve always been addicted to pain repeats repeats 444
Softly caress my ears, songs of yesteryear
Making sense of the here and now
When was your sound, you play so well?
Stunned to find you're active now.

Expectation, that song of yours
Makes me feel comfortable with break-ups
Crying my tears dry imagining,
If it ever happened how easy it would be.

If I hung out with you guys, I know
We would be like long lost pals
The music you play is my truth also
Your songs are like inspiration calls.

Vintage sound, yet ultimately timeless
I think you deserved that Grammy
Vampire Weekend, I couldn't care less
Could never imagine your infamy.

Awakened my kundalini for sure
Such a connection to your genius
Your messages loud and pure
Thank you, Tame Impala.
An ode to Grammy nominees Tame Impala. A life inspiration.
Now mind is clear
as a cloudless sky.
Time then to make a
home in wilderness.

What have I done but
wander with my eyes
in the trees? So I
will build:  wife,
family, and seek
for neighbors.

                     Or I
perish of lonesomeness
or want of food or
lightning or the bear
(must tame the hart
and wear the bear).

And maybe make an image
of my wandering, a little
image—shrine by the
roadside to signify
to traveler that I live
here in the wilderness
awake and at home.
Matthew Aug 2014
There was a
girl, girl
dyed her
hair, hair
got
red, red
got every-
where.

Her hair
bled, bled
down the
drain, drain
clogged
up, up
the red came
again.

She tried to
keep, keep
her passion
tame, tame
the
beast, beast,
who always
stained.

But after many
nights, nights
spent al-
one, one
drove her
out, out
of her
home.

She followed
him, him
and his white
shirt, shirt
got red
quick, quick
-ly he was
hurt.

She tried to
flee, flee
so he could
live, live
a happy
life, life
without
strife.

but,

The man
smiled, smiled
a pinkish
grin, grin
-ning because his
hair, hair
was her's
twin, twin
hair was
blue, blue
like the
sea, see
his hair runs
too,
and
two
plus one makes a purple
family.
There is a specific type of poem that has lines that begin and end with the same words. I completely forget what it is called, but this is sorta that sort of thing.
King Panda Feb 2016
the good book says
one to tame
another to handle the whip
and groan at the horses
as they pull the
freedom carriage

freedom from what?

freedom from fields
of wheat and grass
freedom from
dirt and potatoes
freedom from the
bite of the whip
in the sweltering
Georgia pits

lord
this good book isn’t
very good at all
these horses can pull their own
but I am weak
tamed
invisible
I am a pipe cleaner
bent over and over
until it snaps
to quote
I don’t want to live on
this planet anymore
I don’t want to live at all

this is the sun breaking through
this is the vain bee trying to pollinate
this is my rose under glass

quake if you must
earth
I have been shattered already
Jack L Martin Aug 2018
I say unto you with a sniveling snarl,

Will you go on and be friends with an owl?

Why, YES! I said boldly with a pompety grin

My new owl friend will be lucky and win!

He will hoot and toot a most beautiful song

He will win a singing contest and sing all day long

We will take all his winnings and spend it on mead

We'll sing, drink and be merry, indeed!

we'll capture a horse and dress it in tweed

then ride to the sunset on our horse named, "Sardine!"

Sardine might get hungry so we'll feed him some hemp

We'll lay down to rest on a bed that's unkempt

We'll wake in the morning to see Sardine's fate

Sardine has died from starvation this date

The sorrow we feel is so hard to beat

So opon his flesh we started to eat

w'ell pair it with taters all mashed in a pan

we'll eat up our dinner as fast as we can

but hold on a second, how silly are we!

We tripped on some mushrooms we found on a tree!

our minds started swirling and twirling; so dizzy!

my owl friend shrieked and then started to tizzy

he gouged out my eyes and laughed at my pain

I fell to the ground and made peace with my name

for I never did say from whence I came

cause stories like this are not easy to tame

I lay here in misery, my friend's not to blame

It's all in my head, this silly word game
Jordan Fischer May 2015
The purity is mysterious
Questionable at best
Subjective additives aiding the escape from a benign reality. 
Harsh sedatives cloud my body
Instant relief from the mundane
It's flame burns in my veins
This beast, is becoming difficult to tame
Beat it or fall prey, it's really all the same.

— The End —