"vexatious" poems
To prolong such an absence of vexatious jove
Denying the will of instinct to arouse elation
Self-inflicted desolation in which we all strove
To create an empty shell like a fronted castration
All the while being comforted by a depressing superiority
As the uniqueness of our struggle blends in with conformity
Yearning for our relations to meet with a tragic end
Anticipating the consequence of a self-appointed woe
Glorifying our character as we passionately pretend
To endure an exclusive emotion that we all undergo
This proclamation of individuality through insipid gloom
Conveys nothing but the relative depiction of what I assume
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 8:40 AM UTC
What an honor
It would be
To inspire someone
Lost and suffering
Trapped in their own mind
Of relentless criticism
Who would have guessed the semicolon
Would hold such symbolism
This desire I have
To change just one life
May not affect the world
But it would ease their strife
Because I know what it’s like to be exhausted
At the end of every day
With no other reason than the constant war
Of keeping my demons at bay
How incredible it would be
To stop measuring my self worth
By judgments and comparisons
With everyone else on earth
To stop unearthing past mistakes
Then uprooting the pleasant memories
And throwing them aside
As a gardener does with vexatious weeds
Constantly tortured by little things
Until it's miserable to survive
Sweetheart don't you realize
It's a privilege to be alive
Why is it we search for happiness
Like its something waiting to be found
When it is only from the inside
That we can turn our thoughts around
My dear, please don't give in
You don't have to feel this way
The demons may be frightening
But you have the final say
No matter what they say to you
It's you who has control
Don't let them turn your soft, kind heart
Into a numb black hole
The numb black hole
I know it well
Then waves of pain
Like an ocean swell
Just as tides come and go
Your darkness will too
As long as you keep fighting
The whole way through
Keep your thoughts positive
It is your mind you must transform
For there are always blue skies
After every storm
Your sorrows may not be gone for good
But you have a bright future ahead
Inspire others to change their thoughts
And dry the tears they’ve shed
Apr 22, 2016
Apr 22, 2016 at 3:25 AM UTC
•
*You are the sole yellow rose that I see,
In the amidst of this wicked and vexatious wilderness,
You've captured my heart,
With your bright, delightful and auspicious hue,
My eyes are affix to your alluring nature,
And a picture of you I keep dearly in my heart.
I walk into the hellacious pathway,
The pathway that draw stripes on me,
I did try to endure all throe and grief,
'Cause after this endeavor,
You'll fill me with beautitude and love,
And my triumph I will lavish upon you as I hold you in my arms.
Now I have succeeded and hold firm grip on you,
All aches been covered up with my overwhelmed soul,
Your thorns I've eliminated and put end to your excruciation,
I hold you so close to me and keep you safe in my chest,
I will never let you go and I'll bathe you with my love,
We will conquer the world together, forever 'til eternity.*
with love <3
© Earl Jane
♥ E.J.C.S.
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 6:55 AM UTC
melancholic
i'm problematic
don't you dare say i'm weak!
full of pain
i'm going insane
who cares if i'm psychedelic?
vexatious slit
agonizing fit
can't anyone notice a bit?
out of my mind
no way to rewind
a lifestyle i'm willing to commit!
my final stage
death coming out of rage
and now you're willing to change?
it's a catastrophic
an annihilation i'm destined to mimic
i will cease in this grave!
and it's something you can't prolong.
-djs
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 2:02 PM UTC
I was unprepared for your lack of self-awareness
and the way you approach life like a
kid running the wrong way with the ball.
Sometimes I feel like your mother
sending you to your room so you can tantrum.
Other times I feel like your daughter
when you lay out my shoes as if I can’t get them myself.
Talking to you is throwing rocks at a land mine;
There is a difference between creativity and indecision.
There is a difference between sensitivity and overreacting.
You have to find who you are, and stop lifting so many lids.
Your anxious energy is clinging to my calm like a parasite
Eventually, you need to find a calm of your own
take your spinning outside inward, where things are still.
I want to help you
and I want to escape,
because rarely do I feel like your lover
partly because I don’t want to anymore.
I don’t want your touch, I don’t want your kiss
your hands are vexatious, please just let me sleep!
I don’t want to gag and choke on your tongue.
Just rest for a while,
so I can figure out how to do this.
Aug 2, 2015
Aug 2, 2015 at 10:20 PM UTC
I look for the source of the disaster. I look in the mirror and it decides to screech. I'm lusting for love and a dime's worth of affection. Haunting vibrations are crippling my decisions. Everyday is unedited from the previous one. Looking for new high's in a comfortable setting. I want to change reality forever so I soak myself in fantasies and exchanges that don't really exist. Im sick of being stuck, nailed to my vexatious living pattern. That's what life is really about, patterns, how you change the patterns. How you leave a mark, a little piece of you, dwelling in forever. I'm a creationist, I consume to create, destroy to rebuild. I'm bored so I dang on the edge of abyss's . I want to see how far I can go, how deep can I scare history. It's all a matter of perspective really, what you sink your desire in. You could be the most beautiful tragedy, a crying saint, a god, love, the Devils cashier. We don't live by rules, there can't be rules, we will never reach our full potential. We have to stretch every emotional and physical boundary we have. We have to be successful or we lose.
Nov 12, 2013
Nov 12, 2013 at 10:43 PM UTC
Although your friendly demeanor
Helps mask your vexatious vibe,
What's hidden under your trench coat
I can effortlessly describe.
Your ignorance is beautiful
Complimenting your facetiousness,
Which gets people to laugh,
Following you like a princess.
The amiable attitude masks
An ugly judgmental jowl
Which tends to spark
A camouflaged scowl
Your playful features are
No more than soft and cushy wool.
The transparent grin you flaunt about
Is just a bunch of bull.
Now grapple my ideas
Don't throw them out if sight.
Just listen when I say
"You're stupid and I'm right"
Feb 10, 2013
Feb 10, 2013 at 2:57 AM UTC
There was an old person of Loo,
Who said, 'What on earth shall I do?'
When they said, 'Go away!'--
She continued to stay,
That vexatious old person of Loo.
1.6k
using stalagmite icycles as tooth picks in between the crevices of my head
my brain is getting frostbite as if i ate too much ice cream at once, but this
sporadic heartbeat is going into myocardial infarction, and all at once, every
second goes into slow motion, a familiar stillness before the blast of powerful
dynamite, bats living inside me are vexatious inside my head, like a parasite,
you weren't even noticed until you completely wracked my helpless body
with worms and ticks, leaving me with some sense of how a sick dog feels,
a walking contradiction and an anti-compressive depression that leaves me
with nothing. you're a sea that keeps on growing, a forest that keeps on burning
and a fire that is everlasting and almost behemoth, i'm helpless
- kra
Jan 5, 2014
Jan 5, 2014 at 7:35 PM UTC
She stood so serene, enticing me full of desire.
Simply gazing at her would set your soul to rest-
But she set my heart in a blaze of fire.
Always longing to be in her presence.
Though, never wanting to become vexatious.
Of beauty she was the quintessence.
My eyes had never been so honored.
Then when fixed upon her.
Every moment apart from her was a moment squandered.
She was the most exquisite human being I have ever known.
I yearn for all of her.
And all of her
Alone..
Sep 7, 2014
Sep 7, 2014 at 11:02 PM UTC
It's not illegal to sprinkle lemon juice
in a healing wound, but it's not recommended.
The clatter of silverware rattles the piercings
of a tattooed barista battling a vexatious morning.
Iced caramel lattes, incarcerated by
serrated coffee beans, sleep alone at night.
A half-empty cup of 2% screams at a
of glass skim milk for acting obnoxiously drunk.
One squirrel scorns another for
stealing its spiked acorns last fall.
A lonely poem twists and turns
through disappointing images of life.
At the end of the road there's a mirror
reflecting an absent feeling of satisfaction.
Dec 28, 2016
Dec 28, 2016 at 6:34 PM UTC
As I sat glaring through the curtain
Dark shades of history are still uncertain
Leaving behind an empty space.
Stumbling down ill stricken hallways with a dangling hope
A teardrop glides down its last slope
This harsh reality taken by surprise.
Never forgetting the day
Tragedy was just a phone call away
Wishing I could pick up the pieces.
It only seems like the other day you gave up the fight
Your black and white memory will last until we reunite
My deepest emotions, too vexatious to hide.
Jun 27, 2013
Jun 27, 2013 at 4:27 PM UTC
Although I’m sure my presence is starting to become more than a little vexatious, I still hold your hand as often as I possibly can. Partially because I find how rough your hands are compared to the rest of your body to be very pleasing, but mostly because I feel obligated.
Don’t take it the wrong way, I don’t feel obligated in the sense that I’m being forced. I just know that we humans come into and leave this world alone, and I know all that you’ve seen.
So I’ll hold your hand while we lay in bed at night, cross the road, and walk through the grocery store, readjusting my grip as our fingers start slipping.
And when I notice you start slipping and losing your grip on this world and all it has too offer, I’ll readjust whatever it is that need readjusting. I’ll hold on even tighter so you don’t have to.
Just don’t give up. I know it’s hard, and I know you know that we humans come into and leave this world alone. But when I hold your hand, I have the entire world at my fingertips.
I’ll readjust as needed.
Jan 30, 2018
Jan 30, 2018 at 2:48 PM UTC
Setting his sights toward his future as each day goes by observing what's in front of him, as night fall the nostalgia of the twilight his reminiscing has become grim.
Desperately musing his heart ache elaborated thought running away, anxiety takes over heartbeat racing feeling rigid the poet mind aflutter knowing she doesn't play.
Lasting through the evening can't think straight confuse while pacing all night, his heart ache vanishes his cognitive behavior says it will be alright.
For her writting is this poets passion recollecting his once love his tears begins to form miniature lakes, attempting to penetrate her superbia her shielded heart won't break.
She's whom he gave his bleeding heart to is miserable and shrew, but the feelings aren't mutual only if she knew.
Needing her the most, the animosity flows through her veins, locating that perpetual love has gone in vain.
Purposing a toast, alcohol beverage she prognosticate his love, a constructive hoax.
Like pleasant day a cool breeze of the ocean wind, cold nor hot people going about hoping the day won't end. Struck with calamity a tsunami brings misery, not how, but when.
Chaotic, with frustration. Is it possible to lurer her back? Fishing for hours she ignores his bait, slapping it away. Even if you love someone set it free, it won't come back he was led astray.
Mistreated, highjacked of his kindness for weakness his fears are calm, no pain he simply removed it by wiping the tears with his palm.
Damage control dumping all they had in a black hole, a perplex situation a vexatious child the Hyde in her he hated her role.
A love crushed by her ferocious jealous and controlled demented mind, a poetic justice of her defined.
Apr 30, 2012
Apr 30, 2012 at 4:14 AM UTC
As I lay me down for sleep,
Know my vow I said I'd keep...
When grim of dream
comes seeping in
And cruelest monsters
scratch my skin
I shall seek safety
I've found in you
Shielded by a love
so sweet and true
I promise to fight
the vexatious dark
And find myself calm
with nary a mark.
So peaceful sleep, please find me now
I close my eyes, heart holding vow
Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 2:35 AM UTC
you can't always wring love out of wanting to save someone
you're left yearning to be pocket change
rubbing subtly on her thighs forever.
in vexatious clinks you sing
of your forgotten value
May 22, 2013
May 22, 2013 at 4:19 PM UTC
"you still kick it in the slums ?
you still sell drugs ?
you still like to party ?
you still binge n get ****** up ?"
As much as I love a fight
I'd rather leave them to their ****** imaginations
--I find my amour-propre
when I see a use of my knack for kinesics
as mischievous manipulation--
Causing the busy-bodies' capitulation;
instantaneously subjugated
So I bestow my infamously vexatious smirk
as I say
"absolutely."
Jan 24, 2018
Jan 24, 2018 at 11:51 AM UTC
you're as poisonous as a cobra
That causes pain and reflects happiness
you're like a nightmare of a solid rock
Down my throat but leaving no scares
you're like a pain in the *** hard to scratch
but can still bare to live with it
you're a naked weapon harmful and
dangerous
though defensive in nature
you're a Lion so good looking
but very unfriendly to live with
you're like age enjoyable while young
vexatious and miserable as life goes by.
Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 1:53 PM UTC
My thoughts are rotted and my soul smells like sulfur.
Violence has become habitual, spirituality has become vexatious.
I'm a ****** scene, the bright yellow on the caution tape.
My brain , my heart , they still need to make the distinction that there in the same body.
Emotions have a deficiency so I yoke them up and ********** them to people.
Long enough in an abyss and your suffering starts to suffer.
Being beautiful, respect ? What's the point ?
I want to die with scars on my faces.
I want the broken bones, the bruises.
I can't go out with this charming face, it isn't honest.
I don't want to be a copy of a copy of a copy.
I can't control my shakes I shouldn't be enjoying this
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 1:49 PM UTC
D A Y L I G H T:
⠀
In my premature years, black licorice had always been my favorite treat, as it evoked memories of my favorite bird: the crow. It was something like a token of my admiration. Laid in a brittle bed of crisp-like-fall leaves, eyes that were once much bigger would gaze at the sky and see it as a continuation of the ocean. I assumed there was more distance, more leaves, more crows; because the ocean was never just the boats that wavered on the surface.
⠀
I never apprehended that throughout the day is when crows are most distinguishable. Their ebony cutouts, nefarious eyes, and visibly oily obsidian tones contrasted greatly against my favorite element of day – they rode through clouds like mere puddles of fog. Their squawking did not reverberate as boundlessly, nor did it ricochet against the buildings and quivering pine trees. The morning time is when the crows divulge in their breakfast meal, sipping dew from the tallest blades of grass while dressed all in black. It is never the question of, “did you hear that?” or “what was it?”. The crow is the crow as the pigeon is the pigeon.
⠀
⠀
N I G H T F A L L:
⠀
When the world is cloaked with its darkest twinges of night is when the crows become the /crows/, disappearing into their forest lairs. There, they resemble storm clouds that crackle with an aloof thunder regardless of hovering just overhead like a guilty conscience. At night, their hell reigns on a foreshadowed sanctuary – a repetitive funeral, Satan himself occupying a casket made from twigs, the flesh of mice, and children’s shoelaces. Your mind morphs into an unhinged vault, where they prowl and feed on your visions, and devour your common sense. They dilute your integrity with ingenuity. The crow is no longer something vexatious, but rather you are - an intruder - and he, above you in every sense of the word.
⠀
I lie here now, patient as the sun’s shift ends and a somber veil falls over relative land. I no longer face the obligation of licorice, and instead between my teeth resides the root of a sleek, onyx feather. “Sono vivo gui.”
Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 3:53 PM UTC
Goal-oriented is what you are.
You are ambitious and highly pragmatic.
Since you rely on structure and form,
It drives you crazy if life gets erratic.
Capricorns, when they are young,
Often appear mature and engaging.
When they reach middle age,
They seem to defy the process of aging.
Since you like to be in charge,
You like both control and authority.
Your willingness to accept
Responsibility is a priority.
As long as you believe that you'll
Succeed, you will persevere.
But know that you can also be
Lazy when your goals aren't clear.
Though out-going and competitive,
One thing that makes you apprehensive
Is a lack of confidence,
Which can also make you defensive.
Wanting to be admired and respected,
You hate to appear ineffective
And weak, and since you fear rejection,
Winning is your major objective.
In fact, so determined are you
To win, that the thought is vexatious
For you to lose, so when you do,
It's difficult for you to be gracious.
You always want to know where you stand,
So you like to plan each move.
Anticipating gains and losses
Helps you to stay in the groove.
Your love of structure applies to traditions;
You have the need to protect and preserve.
Despite your good sense of humor,
Being teased strikes a nerve.
Dedication to duty guides you.
Even though you have the ability
To reason well, worrying
Can put a strain on your tranquility.
When first dealing with others, you
Can be reserved, but in the end
After you give your trust, you prove
To be a loyal and steadfast friend.
Just be careful that you do not
Turn into a workaholic.
Stifled self-reliance can make
You pessimistic and melancholic.
Because of your hard-working nature,
Mundane tasks are no big deal.
But the loss of self-esteem
Can be your Achilles' heel.
You will accomplish marvelous things
If you can balance work and play.
Let your cautious but warm heart guide you.
Plan for tomorrow, but seize the day.
- by Bob B (12-22-16)
Dec 22, 2016
Dec 22, 2016 at 2:20 PM UTC
This veneer of civilization
So vexatious in its impression.
Words adroit, adept, artificial,
So artful is the communication.
Gestures gentle soft, controlled,
So measured is the emotion
Visage serene, cool, pliant
So unfazed is the digression.
Eyes moist, weary, weathered,
Yet sensible is the suppression.
Thoughts random running havoc,
Yet accepted is the discretion.
Emotions roiling seething simmering
Yet artificial is the expression.
This veneer of civilization
Such progressive regression
Feb 24, 2017
Feb 24, 2017 at 9:22 AM UTC
Nothing can stop me now
not even this brick wall
that was filled with selfish emotions
of everyone that told me
that I couldn't do it
no one can break something this tall
however solidified it is
not even heaven and earth
can stop me now
as I trudge through
with heavy stomps toward
my goal that will keep me alive
in this uninspiring world
filled with vexatious people
I will do what I want
to achieve the highest standing
of emotional wellness
and pursuit of a thing called
Happiness
Mar 3, 2019
Mar 3, 2019 at 9:10 PM UTC
Must we ask an unpayable fee?
Saying “wait” just to later decline?
It now seems that the land of the free
Is a home that the brave cannot find.
How vexatious that they storm these walls
Pleading reason and asking charity.
Oh, how dare they try escaping home
To a land we brand OPPORTUNITY.
I fear the longing of millions of souls
All brimming with fury and cause
Is more pond’rous than the marching soles
Of the soldiers defending our flaws.
Dec 29, 2017
Dec 29, 2017 at 2:08 PM UTC
At the foot of the Cross,
My fear and shame are lost.
Regrets which past hurts had begotten
Are now former things forgotten
By the One who paid the cost.
At the foot of the cross,
Darkness is brought to light,
And faith augments my sight.
No weapon fashioned against me shall have prevailing might.
Grace empowers me to see
The truth that sets me free,
By the power of the cross.
On the hill of the Cross,
Death was utterly destroyed;
With the grave as my permanent ending made void.
A life giving crimson tide was employed
To wash away my soul's dross.
At the heart of the Cross,
The Son of Man spoke
In a language too deep for words -
The powers of Hell He broke.
To bring back the created life He gave to you and me,
By tearing down the staggering veil,
That our eyes would be open to see.
No life can ever be lost,
When we are truly
At the foot of His saving Cross.
At the foot of the Cross,
The Self is left behind,
With its ever striving vexatious bind.
Near the heart of the Father, a true home I find:
An ever faithful, loving embrace,
When from life's storms I'm tossed.
I find it all here
At the foot of the Cross.
Oct 24, 2020
Oct 24, 2020 at 1:12 AM UTC