"unmitigated" poems
ah, enslave without compassion
bound ancestors you must impale
go seek and show no mercy
let those who escape carry the tale
all the sufferers bearing witness
to their ministers spilling their blood
staggered screeches from bleak recesses
regicide plotters bend to the dust
with unmitigated conquest and **********
trample them under your tyranny
slimy enshrinement brings into question
what's divinely lamented for
scatter populations with ruthlessness
let them choose sycophancy or sword
reappoint difficult commanders
for instigation unbroken awaits
kept in frenzy, they whisper confusion
never quite sure of their fate
with unmitigated conquest and **********
trample them under your tyranny
let the cowardly unlock the gates for you
to heroically claim what's inside
crowds you abhor kneeling in wonder
all the world is your ****** bride
punctuate the roads with tollgates
***** monuments to broadcast your name
all your banquet's guests are your enemies
entertain them with one another's shame
with unmitigated conquest and **********
trample them under your tyranny
with unmitigated conquest and **********
trample them under your tyranny
under your tyranny
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 2:32 AM UTC
Don't ever ask me what am I, an ancient story
of a battle lost to remain in the realm of the sublime,
unmitigated grief that visits, again and again,
reminding the journey of pain though galaxies,
far of yore to the days of present.
In a moments of desperation I discover the bard,it could
be rather told thus, he meets me at last, as was his wont
Bard, celestial lover, before my eyes you appear thus:
I see you holding in your hands a magic lyre, so rare.
that goes on strumming non- stop, to bring birds, the tunes,
that lives in far parts of the universe,even unknown to most,
they do vary,have colored feathers;memories living in
different layers of my consciousness,always buzzing like a beehive.
I am the single, magic , potent, word, a mantra
that in it's kernel carries the , seeds of eternal, "I am that"
I hear the speakings of the words,that brings to life
experiences of different kinds,on their beaks some one
carries ripe fruits, the result of long days of sweat and tears.
Each fruit has a flavor distinct,each word carries a seed
that will grow to be a mighty tree,many birds would roost.
Bard you are a wonder,tying past and future with one string
of a lyre converging in the heart beat of the ebullient present,
you easily transcend the three, and every other dimension
of time that mingles in your heady brew,unrivaled it stands.
Nov 21, 2015
Nov 21, 2015 at 11:00 AM UTC
"One may have a blazing hearth in one's soul and yet no one ever came to sit by it. Passers-by see only a wisp of smoke from the chimney and continue on their way."
-Vincent van Gogh in a letter to his younger brother Theo van Gogh in July of 1880"
I've taken the straight razor
to my ear like a third-rate
van Gogh.
Impressionism bleeding
into Expressionism.
Mania trickling into
an unmitigated need
to find the beauty
and grace he only
found with a paintbrush.
Blood clinging to the
horse hair bristles
like the blood splattered
in the margins of every
page I've ever filled.
Each line and brush
stroke choking out
a futile cry for help
as the wheat fields burn
and the sunflowers wither.
Sep 23, 2012
Sep 23, 2012 at 6:21 AM UTC
Happenstance to the melancholic gives leave the sin of pride.
Inbound reconnaissance tells not the bearer of influence.
Squeamish at first: a foreshadowing of calamitous bonding.
A space between the mark of corporeal and the ethereal; a stringent hiatus
That which rattles the concrete foundation of morality is scarcely a malleable recourse.
Regret stains the unfounded soul: an enigma of ephemeral perforations.
A separation of the unmitigated humanities; misandry topples the writhing snake.
Impact; a cleansing of the maker's flaws integrated solemnly.
Complacency arrests the administration of the abhorred; unbridled is the autonomy of a guru.
Ambivalent giftedness burdens the reliant and haughty.
A flick of the tongue brings forth the cinema mortem.
Castaway: alone to wade in the sea of obscenities.
A temporal causality allows no mourning to abscond.
Negligence is not the enemy, but indulgent wrath.
Hesitant: a stroke of qualia begets the end of a maiden.
Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 11:13 AM UTC
Tailored suit, Turkish smokes in a fancy silver case
Gold buttons, collar straight, black tie neatly pressed in place.
Who is he? Well, you must make a deal to learn.
Give me two cents for my trouble,
And a cigarette to burn.
A man made up of shadows and illusions black and gray;
He's a quaint manifestation of the muse you've thrown away.
All of your escaped emotions,
All your unmitigated strife,
Packaged up in flesh and bone and given dusky life.
He breaks apart unfinished thoughts without regard to you,
And uses them to flesh out patchwork dreams of rosy hue.
But happy dreams are wrought of love,
And though Wolf vainly tries,
Internal nightmares oft bleed through and mar his cheerful lies.
He takes your lost sincerities and shapes them up like clay,
Gives them form and simple purpose,
In a rhythmic, pleasing way.
The Wolf is but a poet, his goal you mustn't misconstrue
For he will tear apart your soul
And smiling, give it back to you.
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 9:13 PM UTC
Ah here sits the stone on the ground
The shrub on the hill. A
Natural state of affairs if you will.
Retched Earth, abominable stone
Why the nerve of the rag tag tree
To perch ones self in stark relief
Blocking the skyline, space invader.
Thief.
Why the unmitigated gall.
Of the rain to fall on withered
Pate..
Tis the empty barrel that rumbles profusely.
The shallow stream that muddles at the bottom.
Pyramid craniums, issues forth babble.
Slackjawd mouth-breather.
Knee **** Buffoon.
Perched in perpetuity,howling
at the moon.
The my way or the Highwayman, astride a cocked horse.
The cant see the beauty of the Forrest for the treeman.
Bull headed, Ram goat Salty old ******
Failure to Communicate.
Rush to excommunicate
Monolythic seer
Cotton eyed joe
Constipated thinker.
Oh the comfort and surety
of riding in the ruts.
.
Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 12:13 PM UTC
red blue
reptiles reptiles
white russian ****** mary
puritan pride puritan pride
freemason freemason
where the good, old days at? where the odd. good days at?
conspiracy conspiracy
deep fake deep fake
trump has a wooden leg biden has a wooden leg
aliens aliens
wars wars
china china
abortion abortion
manifest destiny manifest destiny
lobbyists lobbyists
fox nbc
sovereign citizen version
hey!
get the hell out of america!
your title makes no sense
if you're a citizen of the world, then move to that world
who do you think you are? God or something?
(as it appears on https://www.merriam-webster(no lie)
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sov·er·eign | \ ˈsä-v(ə-)rən
, -vərn also ˈsə- \
variants: or less commonly sovran
Definition of sovereign
(Entry 1 of 2)
1a : one possessing or held to possess supreme political power or sovereignty
b : one that exercises supreme authority within a limited sphere
c : an acknowledged leader : arbiter
2 : any of various gold coins of the United Kingdom
sovereign adjective
sov·er·eign | \ ˈsä-v(ə-)rən
, -vərn also ˈsə- \
variants: or less commonly sovran
Definition of sovereign (Entry 2 of 2)
1a : superlative in quality
b : of the most exalted kind : supreme sovereign virtue
c : having generalized curative powers a sovereign remedy
d : of an unqualified nature : unmitigated sovereign contempt
e : having undisputed ascendancy : paramount
2a : possessed of supreme power a sovereign ruler
b : unlimited in extent : absolute
c : enjoying autonomy : independent sovereign states
3 : relating to, characteristic of, or befitting a supreme ruler : royal a sovereign right
Nov 2, 2021
Nov 2, 2021 at 12:08 AM UTC
Foaming sunlight makes love
with the tender purple leaves of mango trees,
light crafts a crust of luminescence,
over the profusion of yellow and blue blooms,
avenue trees vie with each other to hold forth
their flowers on sun's water fall of light to bath.
Evening doesn't show any sign of waning
the ebullience the day had sowed in the world,
"ANANDA" though unspoken as a word, aloud
is heard by inner being, making everyone rejoice,
living and nonliving seamlessly join in,
and swim in the swelling waters of force of life.
past invisible floats gently to the present
flows towards a sea of tranquility crossing nights.
Nov 5, 2015
Nov 5, 2015 at 12:24 PM UTC
A trilogy of love: bared, shared, pared
Lust's shallow wave: crests, cascades, crashes
Deeper, emotive swells: rise, rumble, release
Conflicting currents form rip tide: tugging, tossing, tearing
Amor's undulating rhythms pulsate
Low tide, latent fantasies surface ego to ingratiate
High tide, a endless churning of desires our longing cannot satiate
Libidinous breakers scour lecherous bottom; a brackish foam doth emanate
In the deeper recesses of our minds, a rational connection percolates
From the depths, a heart-felt ****** rises; a growing bond initiates
Two, constant minds mutually sharing space; each hope, dream resonates
Surface tension increases; two hearts mount each obstacle, common course navigates
Nearing balmy shore, strong winds of indifference blow
Into eroding channels untested lovers unwittingly row
Selfish goals drag the unstable pair into the undertow
Corrosive fears, unmitigated doubts sever trust placing love in escrow
Sep 16, 2011
Sep 16, 2011 at 4:58 AM UTC
I realize
I have real eyes
That see real lies—
~Nearsighted
(rule of law)
~Farsighted
(rule of lies)
~The "ayes" have it
(hidden agenda)
~The "ayes" have it
(secret addenda)
~The "ayes" have it
(hate crimes)
~The "ayes" have it
(critical times)
~Undocumented truth
(entombed)
~Unmitigated lies
(exhumed)
I realize
I have real eyes
That see real lies—
~As the world cries
Dec 13, 2019
Dec 13, 2019 at 5:06 PM UTC
Why is it you?
Of all people to have the ability to ruin me
why is it you? Bryan?
You're awkward and too tall
on top unmitigated gall
you're plain rude.
So why do I want you?
Bryan?
In my mind there's a collection
of every time you've shown affection
and
The slightest inclination
only heightens my determination
to trip you.
I want you to fall hard
for me. Bryan.
With every facebooked text
it's been my only request
for the whole year.
Did you notice?
Bryan?
When the smallest appreciation
left my pupils dilated
it's so degrading
When my faith in you is fading
more praise is awaiting
I am stuck in this net.
What's so unfair
is that you're not even aware
of what you do to me.
If I told you, would you love me?
Bryan?
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 9:47 PM UTC
I can savor
The taste of fear
Riding upon the wind
As turbulently
As your troubled mind
Seeks desperately
To understand the mortality of this moment
The life and death mechanics of reality
The realization
That we are to die
As evident of the staccato pant
Of your futile labour
Frivolous at best
Arouses a sense
Of ******* justice
Hard truths
Brought to bear witness of
Your infidelities
Your betrayal
Lies
Aborning of arsenic
Sputters froth
From your womb
Searing traces of bitterness
Cascades a corrupted truth
Transformed into an ugliness
That has become us
Two hearts that once beat as one
Cast fervently
Into a cold war
Unrelenting hatred
Reciprocated
Ricochet
Unmitigated threats
Wounds
That cannot be reprieved
How did we get here?
Do you even care-
To ponder the thought?
How
I once loved thee
A dream shattered
By the realization of now
But
The now I can live with
The thought of losing you I cannot
**** this relationship
Endure
I must
For the taste of you
Is the sake of me
My sustenance
I close my eyes
In perusal of happier times
When life was bearable
Abruptly
I'm jolted out of my reverie
By hilt of your scorn
Protruding from my chest
Animately
I touch
As if to confirm its legitimacy
A reason for its being
Overwhelmed by solemn peace
I collapse in passive supplication
And as she turns and walk away
Contemptuous
Of the final utterance
To flee my lips
I forgive you
I ponder
If she ever
Loved me at all
Aug 3, 2016
Aug 3, 2016 at 12:20 PM UTC
I've always been the kid in the hall
Outside the office door of some metaphorical "principal"
Donning a dunce cap, back to the wall
Anticipation spikes in general
This time it's special
When waiting for the next hypothetical, often hypocritical, shoe to fall I make it a double
Dribble and drop the ball
Taking on the challenge of life was a bad call
The order's too tall, don't try it y'all
What I've been given to work with is abysmal
Can't rely on it being factual at all
A criminally out of date owners manual
A For Dummies series appealing to a low level criminal
Vaguely creating, and/or aiding, this failure ritual
Oh the unmitigated gall
Scheduling my burial service to take place before the funeral
Fuucking brutal
I hate it and it seems the feelings mutual
The line stepping is habitual
The backward motion is perpetual
Not sure any of this is avoidable
But, what do I know...
...everything and nothing is impossibly possible
©2023
Dec 20, 2023
Dec 20, 2023 at 3:00 PM UTC
We are a bad design
For example;
A vain person disgusted with the same person in every reflection
What insane being had the unmitigated gall to be insertin' that complication into a person
Self-deprivation an infection of a mind nurtured from inception
Do I even need to mention the who, what, where, why and when of my formation
...I've heard it said over and over again...
It's the creator of all creation, although I don't know where they're getting their information
I've read Genesis through Revolutions over and over again, no revelation
A costly salvation, so much rejection for every little infraction
Never seen an open invitation with so much expectation
...not a single one of us are getting in...
We're designed to sin due to his lust for "discipline" lookin' down at the chaos with a menacing grin
A master of manipulation, the "do what I say not what I do" origin
If he's who we're based on then he's who the worst of you see in your reflection
"God is good" should be turned into a question though I understand the hesitation
...I know the fear it's based in...
Not even a good god adaptation, parts of old religion taken and added to your own doctrine
Each page of "his words" a contradiction of the last no matter the translation
It's always been, it's not just now going through a mutation
Under face value it's basic power retention, not somethin' they'll be changin'
...you're in for a rude awakenin'...
Be smart, search your mind not your heart, that's only for circulation
It's lifespan based on repetition, same mission as the Reverend and fellow brethren
This whole things a set up, a con, a lie that people won't stop spreadin'
And if the threat of eternal damnation is the only thing keepin' you from sinnin' then listen
...those morals are set by an immoral faction...
©2023
Dec 29, 2023
Dec 29, 2023 at 2:47 PM UTC
the terror your eyes make me feel,
is unmatched by any physical danger.
no height nor fire could make me shake and drip like you do
and I suppose it's not your fault,
but I sleep in oceans and mediate on dancing.
your smile makes me fear for my life
and your touch makes me want to die
but please don't blame yourself baby
for you can't be held responsible for the tempest, she follows me
and this fleeting kiss has been an unmitigated dream.
but lastly that voice
oh that voice,
the one i could listen to for years
is but a siren song
leading me to the rocks where i am foreordained to capsize
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 1:28 AM UTC
I find myself reaching for heights greater than my own
Scaling obstacles, like the decaying crumble of buildings
every inch of me searching for something to hold on to
Some sort of purchase to bring my tumble to an ending
and give me a moment to pick up the pieces
I am Striving
To be the man you once imagined I would
Trying hard to dress the part of your eyes reflection
To improve upon that young girls idea of what it meant to be a man
To stand a little taller in hopes of procuring the stars
I am Striving
To turn back time
To climb on to that roof where whispered words were exchanged from trembling lips while the summer stars hung bright above the trees and
Listen
Listen to the sharp intake of breath as we both suddenly realized how far we’d fallen
Not knowing that we had climbed so high...
Never knowing what it meant to hit the ground
Our impact shook the world
I am Surviving
The earthquake that cracked our foundation
The unmitigated mess I’ve made of our moments
Me left staring at my fragmented reflection, wondering how I got so far off track
I am Surviving
One day at a time
One foot above the next
Climbing over shattered summer rooftops
Trying to clear the pieces of the home we built
Searching for where my road begins
Still not knowing what it meant to fall so hard
Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 5:12 AM UTC
Poets make lousy friends because eventually they’ll skewer you with their poison pen; their insulting writ of relentless invective and opprobrious apoplectic venom. The naked foist of un-allayed aggression as art-form whereby the vitriol of familiarity slices like a knife and digs in like a dagger. The very nature of chumminess turns adversarial. Like acid in the eyes the sneering contemptible retch could cobble out words with a disgustingly exquisite though execrable precision. A quirk, an idiosyncrasy, a malevolent adherence so committed to unmitigated truth that it is as a fist to the face, a shocking starkness of incivility justified by a requisite expedience hastened by the anxious need to blow one off forthwith. He was a veritable torrent of abject invectives.
Oct 12, 2013
Oct 12, 2013 at 3:53 PM UTC
I am the water that trickles down your throat
With each gulp you drink into me-I satiate
I am the air your lungs breathe in and out
Filling each breath only to be expelled consistently
I am the empty space between your blinks
The lacuna that widens your range of sight
I am the sun that beats down on your
coat
Nourishing your cold bones- becoming emaciate
I am the moon pulling the ocean in and out
Mystifying your unmitigated thought
persistently
I am the matter surrounding all you
think
Which must cause you quite the horrid fright
Love breathes into life;
Without life, love dies.
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 2:36 AM UTC
Swimming **** in the river,
a forgotten art since childhood;
he and she redeemed it,
during their love's fervour,
tasting fire.
Fire and water, they played with,
after every dive, her gleaming lips,
met his sun blazed pair,
a subdued thunder
exquisitely shook their bodies
uncontrollably for moments
right from the deepest root.
Giddy with pleasure,
her eyes tightly remained closed,
but lips drank sun
from his lips avidly
without stop.
She felt her body taut,
like guitar strings,
ready to sing.
What he thought was this:
*my girl is a red hibiscus flower,
that would bloom, fold by fold,
when tantalizing fingers of desire,
caress the buds,
gently first and then passion's currents
sow goosebumps all over.*
She is a vine,
that gets him entangled,
her hands emits sparks.
Flames on her lips,
seek downward path,
and lights the unmitigated
embers of *****
Jul 25, 2012
Jul 25, 2012 at 7:47 AM UTC
Dense and deep, the darkness
finds us at the table
with the leftovers of the day
still scattered around.
Quiet.
Silence is garrulous.
Eyes glued to nothnig.
Mind ever-moving.
Timeless images.
Pictures in black and white
clipped, disconnected.
The soul insensible to tears.
Perishing is unmitigated pain.
Aug 23, 2013
Aug 23, 2013 at 7:37 AM UTC
Some poets make lousy friends
they'll eventually skewer you with their poison pen
their insulting writ of relentless nasty venom
like some twisted performance-art-form
naked foist of un-allayed aggression
the dilettante's vitriol of familiarity slices like a knife
the very nature of chumminess segues into adversity
a quirk, an idiosyncrasy, a malevolent adherence
so affixed are poets to the unmitigated truth that it is as a fist to the face
a horrendous starkness of civility
justified by a requisite needy urgency of expedience
contemptuousness brought on by an anxious desire to blow you off -ASAP
they'll turn on you like a feral cat
Jun 7, 2013
Jun 7, 2013 at 12:17 AM UTC
The window is rolled down halfway
so I can let the ash off my cigarette.
The music, which holds special
meaning to us and faceless others
who have been touched by it,
blares from the dying speakers.
The yellow lines snake ever onward,
winding parallel to each other.
Forever yearning to meet and always
being denied.
The sun went down so long ago
that it is daring us to watch it rise.
We are six cans of monster, two packs
of Red 100's and eight hours past
caring what the fickle thing decides to do.
We are also two days past the desire to
sleep at all.
We tell jokes, poking fun of the things
we don't dare in polite company.
Enjoying the kind of monsters we can
only be around each other.
We share tales of our ****** deviations,
more candid than we've ever been to
anyone else. The lesser experienced,
namely me, blush profusely at the
notion of where parts of us have been.
We lament lost love, unmitigated failure,
wasted potential and the million little
white lie excuses for why we've yet to
become the icons we dreamed ourselves.
When finally sleep begins to win the
battle for control of our eye lids
we take turns behind the wheel.
The window is never rolled up, although
I'm the only smoker aboard.
It's constant noise a reassurance that we
are still moving.
Though in what direction is anyone's guess.
We'll know our destination when we
get there. We'll know when our bodies
cry for food, or ***** or our girlfriends
cry for us to come home.
Mostly we'll know when we can't
go any farther. When we have to turn
around.
I'll always remember our late night
“adventures”.
I'll be an old man, waiting on the
final stroke of any clock I'll ever
hear, and I'll still be listening for
the reassuring sound of wind rushing
past my half open window.
Still feel the cold in my fingertips.
Still feel the warmth and laughter
in my heart.
That has been your gift to me, my friends.
I cherish it always.
Nov 13, 2010
Nov 13, 2010 at 8:37 PM UTC
My melancholy,disquite muse,was the one
Who taught me to empathize with,beats of
Waves, moon lit nights, mermaid songs
Whale whistles of lovelorn moments,
Heartbreaks ending failed love affairs
That haunts the hearts like unmitigated thirsts.
She walks me through the garden path,
Taking my cold shivering hands
....in her warm trembling palm...
I see the young blooms fallen from
The lap of the vine, that held them close,
Fondled with such affection, showered for a lifetime.
I see all of them,trampled over,crumpled in the dust.
The withered flowers on bushes we pass,one by one,
They look lackluster in the crushing
Harsh sun, my muse who refused to speak all along,
Now has teardrops rolling down her eyes.
She makes my crusted ice cap collapse, I melt
Not being able to look at my heart broken by beloved.
I look around for a bud or a sprout extolling hope
A young shoot softly whispers,"Life is here, in wait"
Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 12:53 PM UTC
Pull me in
Envelope me
In your scarlet embrace
Let me show you unmitigated love
Let me be your true experience of deep passion
Jun 15, 2014
Jun 15, 2014 at 8:19 AM UTC
We
were kings
in the realm
of distorted things
Indulging in unmitigated lust that it brings.
She
was queen
A pillar
of strength incarnate
busy pillaging the futures of lesser beings.
The moments I lied
the dreams
the spies
tongues untied
The kingdom crumbled.
Walls I built
Accounts
the cries
threats of love
and roots upended.
Spirals speak before they're worded.
Now the future is in the rear-view.
Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 12:23 PM UTC