"vindictively" poems - Hello Poetry

he tells me the words she does not care to read, nor understand. his words are narcotics, rolling thick off the tongue, fat and vain. i tell him the words she does not care to read nor understand. my words are flesh wounds, festering and upsetting to the stomach. he's a medical overdose, drugging to numb the brash and pain. i'm an angry hornet through your heart and your mind, livid and vindictively stricken. thick through your veins, eyes a blur and head a fog, he's a medical overdose with mind of a syringe and tongue laced with narcotics.

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Apr 5, 2013

Apr 5, 2013 at 12:37 AM UTC

ohmeohmy

medical overdose

he tells me the words she does not care to read, nor understand. his words are narcotics, rolling thick off the tongue, fat and vain. i tell him the words she does not care to read nor understand. my words are flesh wounds, festering and upsetting to the stomach. he's a medical overdose, drugging to numb the brash and pain. i'm an angry hornet through your heart and your mind, livid and vindictively stricken. thick through your veins, eyes a blur and head a fog, he's a medical overdose with mind of a syringe and tongue laced with narcotics.

41

False memories and track marks pave your arms Sudden revolt of youth pressurised to fail Painkillers doubled and stacked for a head to slumber Soft heads and dead leg spasm attack pillow piddles in ***** Fictitious tesla coil blue breath mortifys mortality And your goggles won't fog out the underwater current miscellaneous Digital tectonic pushing ideas you brainstorm Shadowed reluctance to consume the musk of infrared roses This romance is one that was jealous of itself Pre-divorced in its own certainty on incompatibility Basin top full too top heavy to predict precarious Living in a shaded sense of erased memory lapses continuing truth Toward magnificent still life categorised by perdition Forward thinking ruby gold phong shaded hatred quantum conversate Unthinkable Nebula of gas Face first head in hands Euthanasia between my thighs crush my head Choked neck Throat Strangle me and give me breath I roll and the conductor pulls apart my mouth Diseased by euphoria lips separate and teeth show Pupils land home and iris jumps ship Perfume gum dry bitter butterfly kiss Head held back in place tongue falls back into the razor-front of the mouth Caution held simultaneous irrelevant body load carries my smile Jump knee deep into the silence of my own lungs It's been a while I breath vindictively in time with the respiration of the country Somewhere out in the hexagon sun I burn candles and whisp Hold in smoke Die Twitch forward in palliative peace motionless and still Cuspids and lochs Spread across the grass the harmony touches yours and mine A hole and whole dream Conscious and dead Content Voices rattle in unified mono-chromidity Sadness Carrion

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Mar 16, 2014

Mar 16, 2014 at 2:52 PM UTC

connor-reid

Hexagon Sun

False memories and track marks pave your arms Sudden revolt of youth pressurised to fail Painkillers doubled and stacked for a head to slumber Soft heads and dead leg spasm attack pillow piddles in ***** Fictitious tesla coil blue breath mortifys mortality And your goggles won't fog out the underwater current miscellaneous Digital tectonic pushing ideas you brainstorm Shadowed reluctance to consume the musk of infrared roses This romance is one that was jealous of itself Pre-divorced in its own certainty on incompatibility Basin top full too top heavy to predict precarious Living in a shaded sense of erased memory lapses continuing truth Toward magnificent still life categorised by perdition Forward thinking ruby gold phong shaded hatred quantum conversate Unthinkable Nebula of gas Face first head in hands Euthanasia between my thighs crush my head Choked neck Throat Strangle me and give me breath I roll and the conductor pulls apart my mouth Diseased by euphoria lips separate and teeth show Pupils land home and iris jumps ship Perfume gum dry bitter butterfly kiss Head held back in place tongue falls back into the razor-front of the mouth Caution held simultaneous irrelevant body load carries my smile Jump knee deep into the silence of my own lungs It's been a while I breath vindictively in time with the respiration of the country Somewhere out in the hexagon sun I burn candles and whisp Hold in smoke Die Twitch forward in palliative peace motionless and still Cuspids and lochs Spread across the grass the harmony touches yours and mine A hole and whole dream Conscious and dead Content Voices rattle in unified mono-chromidity Sadness Carrion

41

i left the remnants of my disappointment in the collar of my favorite shirt there for the universe to find the tie became a noose choking out any last hope i had for redemption and i shredded the jeans which illuminated my hips and thighs my stomach will not play nice for as i taunt it it screams vindictively i hid the anguish under my fingernails until they had to be clipped and then there was nowhere and so i curled into a ball in the coldest of oceans waiting for the heat of a volcano to swallow me up but the volcano won't come i've been waiting for a long time and the warmth just isn't there my chest aches still you would think the cold would have numbed it by now

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May 11, 2017

May 11, 2017 at 9:57 AM UTC

abby752

pain is not a linear situation

i left the remnants of my disappointment in the collar of my favorite shirt there for the universe to find the tie became a noose choking out any last hope i had for redemption and i shredded the jeans which illuminated my hips and thighs my stomach will not play nice for as i taunt it it screams vindictively i hid the anguish under my fingernails until they had to be clipped and then there was nowhere and so i curled into a ball in the coldest of oceans waiting for the heat of a volcano to swallow me up but the volcano won't come i've been waiting for a long time and the warmth just isn't there my chest aches still you would think the cold would have numbed it by now

43

the theme is green and there are stars in your eyes as you vindictively plot restlessness there are eyes in your stars as you contemplate the heavenly spread of deceased dust hey small thing, you’re shedding and all these dropped DNA samples will clutter a multiverse that has already forgotten what toothpaste you use where you slept or that you slept when you slept if you slept the theme is a clock in your grandmother’s house ticking like a bomb in the desert and all the sun from all the days of chlorine-drenched reminiscences is wiped away by a single stroke of time a moment slides home stretched like the cover over an over-fluffed pillow and this is unquantifiable reverie an array of star-soaked ideals things you will never grow up to be knowing you will never grow up even once you grow up and even after double-spaced reports on summer vacation and tax returns are geologically arranged the theme is maybe and it is cumbersome to think that the stars in your eyes are made of something much older than purple

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May 17, 2010

May 17, 2010 at 7:13 PM UTC

z-gulliver

baby teeth

the theme is green and there are stars in your eyes as you vindictively plot restlessness there are eyes in your stars as you contemplate the heavenly spread of deceased dust hey small thing, you’re shedding and all these dropped DNA samples will clutter a multiverse that has already forgotten what toothpaste you use where you slept or that you slept when you slept if you slept the theme is a clock in your grandmother’s house ticking like a bomb in the desert and all the sun from all the days of chlorine-drenched reminiscences is wiped away by a single stroke of time a moment slides home stretched like the cover over an over-fluffed pillow and this is unquantifiable reverie an array of star-soaked ideals things you will never grow up to be knowing you will never grow up even once you grow up and even after double-spaced reports on summer vacation and tax returns are geologically arranged the theme is maybe and it is cumbersome to think that the stars in your eyes are made of something much older than purple

37

You're not the only ******* person who can be peeved by minor indiscretion; sometimes the flailing you do disrupts others in ways. Perhaps you feel vindictively justified, but perhaps you just crucified that image of you that they held in their head because what you do can speak louder than what you say, and what you say can be a sign of why you do what you do, and how and when, too.

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May 26, 2013

May 26, 2013 at 4:05 AM UTC

Anubis-the-Philosomancer

Self-Serving Bias

You're not the only ******* person who can be peeved by minor indiscretion; sometimes the flailing you do disrupts others in ways. Perhaps you feel vindictively justified, but perhaps you just crucified that image of you that they held in their head because what you do can speak louder than what you say, and what you say can be a sign of why you do what you do, and how and when, too.

18

Adulterous besieging capstone damnation exploitation foists groping, heaving insidiously jerking knowingly lunges machinations notoriously nymphomaniacal officiating ****** quests rapaciously, sadistically tenaciously, unstoppably vasocongested wickedness Xerses yawped zeolously. *************************** All throughout history of man/woman kind ascendent civilizations extensively gouged, impailed, kindled, murderous outrages quashing sacred urges, women yearned. *************************** Versatile thematic refrain punctuating nubiles maximized looting, pillaging, ****** visited upon females via decimating fountainhead guarding brestworks of vestal virgins, innocent youths (little boys and girls). *************************** Twenty first century **** Sapiens male population continue to applaud, covet, extol, gloat, invoke, kickstart, ****** outrages, quest savagely thee unbridled wedded yoke appropriating coquettishly enshrined gals imposing killing mandates okaying queasy sordid ugly wretchedness yanking aborhent behavior denigrating, fulminating, harrassing, jawdropping lewdness, nabbing prized rearends, twerking, violently whiplashing, yelling zingers. *************************** Now not a day elapses with instances women claim untoward advances, and/or forced coercion to satiate and temporarily slate the ****** thirst informing prononced picadilloes (philandering if married pompous head honcho demands appeasement of coitus, ******** indecent lowball outrageous ribald uncouth ****** animalistic, carnal, feral, gonadal, immoral, kleptomaniacally misogynistic, narcissistic, opportunistic, pathetically reprehensible, torturously undervaluing, validating virility within Yankee Doodle, haply lambasting, proudly touting, vaunted wayfair zest. *************************** The above meandering stream of consciousness attempted to amplify, a recent spate of accusations figuratively slapped against a male *** mongers, who specifically rule roost, and blithely, demandingly, forcefully, hideously, impishly, killingly, malignantly, opprobriously, powerfully, repeatedly, terminally, vindictively, wantonly, yearningly acrimoniously belittle, demean flagrantly, harshly insinuate keeping mindful, not publicize rabid ****** unwanted villainous withering zeal!

0

Nov 21, 2017

Nov 21, 2017 at 7:51 PM UTC

matthew-scott-harris2p

Predilections of the ******* beast

Adulterous besieging capstone damnation exploitation foists groping, heaving insidiously jerking knowingly lunges machinations notoriously nymphomaniacal officiating ****** quests rapaciously, sadistically tenaciously, unstoppably vasocongested wickedness Xerses yawped zeolously. *************************** All throughout history of man/woman kind ascendent civilizations extensively gouged, impailed, kindled, murderous outrages quashing sacred urges, women yearned. *************************** Versatile thematic refrain punctuating nubiles maximized looting, pillaging, ****** visited upon females via decimating fountainhead guarding brestworks of vestal virgins, innocent youths (little boys and girls). *************************** Twenty first century **** Sapiens male population continue to applaud, covet, extol, gloat, invoke, kickstart, ****** outrages, quest savagely thee unbridled wedded yoke appropriating coquettishly enshrined gals imposing killing mandates okaying queasy sordid ugly wretchedness yanking aborhent behavior denigrating, fulminating, harrassing, jawdropping lewdness, nabbing prized rearends, twerking, violently whiplashing, yelling zingers. *************************** Now not a day elapses with instances women claim untoward advances, and/or forced coercion to satiate and temporarily slate the ****** thirst informing prononced picadilloes (philandering if married pompous head honcho demands appeasement of coitus, ******** indecent lowball outrageous ribald uncouth ****** animalistic, carnal, feral, gonadal, immoral, kleptomaniacally misogynistic, narcissistic, opportunistic, pathetically reprehensible, torturously undervaluing, validating virility within Yankee Doodle, haply lambasting, proudly touting, vaunted wayfair zest. *************************** The above meandering stream of consciousness attempted to amplify, a recent spate of accusations figuratively slapped against a male *** mongers, who specifically rule roost, and blithely, demandingly, forcefully, hideously, impishly, killingly, malignantly, opprobriously, powerfully, repeatedly, terminally, vindictively, wantonly, yearningly acrimoniously belittle, demean flagrantly, harshly insinuate keeping mindful, not publicize rabid ****** unwanted villainous withering zeal!

27

Ah, but none of them crave me They do not feel the loneliness Of my absence, least not The way I feel the heaviness of theirs; They do not crumble beneath it: The first touch of an inevitable weight At the nape of their neck That has always hung Just above the skin of their scalp But now, having breached the space between, Presses vindictively, coldly, A mercenary of sheer mass God, the weight; The weight of this void

0

Sep 18, 2015

Sep 18, 2015 at 10:51 PM UTC

ashley-rose-berman

Weight

Ah, but none of them crave me They do not feel the loneliness Of my absence, least not The way I feel the heaviness of theirs; They do not crumble beneath it: The first touch of an inevitable weight At the nape of their neck That has always hung Just above the skin of their scalp But now, having breached the space between, Presses vindictively, coldly, A mercenary of sheer mass God, the weight; The weight of this void

14

sunbeams on the morning bright removes most traces of despair and carries me to the ancient rite when myths of furies filled the air machines evicted and in their place the wind filled sails o’er the wine dark sea gods at play with the human race in plots and schemes vindictively in every crack of earth, a spirit lives gods and men in shared desire both guilty of a deceit that gives clouded reason for Olympiad fires the thunderbolts fly with little debate impulsive gods, petty, spoiled, absurd but regal in their conniving state and held to oath and word they take every opportunity when not aligning sun and star to shift their shape, then sexually pounce, with a quick au revoir jealousy, rage, revenge at any chance stirs the north wind on the sea foam forcing héros to tragic circumstance with very long rides home from a thousand ships to none at all these powerful lords seem obsessed to place siren obstacles and sudden squall leaving the righteous without rest no need for blinded giants hurling stone let us be who are but men so that amid destinies we are free to set our own the earth to wine and fat, then back again

0

Apr 6, 2014

Apr 6, 2014 at 11:51 AM UTC

jimmy-tee

five

sunbeams on the morning bright removes most traces of despair and carries me to the ancient rite when myths of furies filled the air machines evicted and in their place the wind filled sails o’er the wine dark sea gods at play with the human race in plots and schemes vindictively in every crack of earth, a spirit lives gods and men in shared desire both guilty of a deceit that gives clouded reason for Olympiad fires the thunderbolts fly with little debate impulsive gods, petty, spoiled, absurd but regal in their conniving state and held to oath and word they take every opportunity when not aligning sun and star to shift their shape, then sexually pounce, with a quick au revoir jealousy, rage, revenge at any chance stirs the north wind on the sea foam forcing héros to tragic circumstance with very long rides home from a thousand ships to none at all these powerful lords seem obsessed to place siren obstacles and sudden squall leaving the righteous without rest no need for blinded giants hurling stone let us be who are but men so that amid destinies we are free to set our own the earth to wine and fat, then back again

32

They say love is the equivalent to the air that gives us sustenance. It keeps us alive What if that love become addictively toxic Calling from the seductive abyss, it whispers your names When the deafening silence is screaming In the dead of the night, Your truthful minds in control Pictured in a montage of guidance You can know longer hide, a piercing uncensored truth your hearts true feelings, saddened breaks down and cry You love each other wholeheartedly This is without an ounce of doubt The unspoken truth is You both know you sinfully bad for one another This will never change, from this waking daydream you want to completely breakout When you love, He hates A constant cause and effect likened to aphrodite in the heat of summer the passion is so raw, you believe you were hexed One moment you both vindictively breaking each other down The next your clothes get strewn to the floor Getting lost in a lustful haze Yet both having one hand on the door. Hungrily taking in every taste and feeling every feathered touch This crazy love is what you both crave Your soul lustfully thirst for A hungered desire that's never enough.

0

Oct 26, 2019

Oct 26, 2019 at 7:34 AM UTC

faizel-farzee

Distorted Lovers

They say love is the equivalent to the air that gives us sustenance. It keeps us alive What if that love become addictively toxic Calling from the seductive abyss, it whispers your names When the deafening silence is screaming In the dead of the night, Your truthful minds in control Pictured in a montage of guidance You can know longer hide, a piercing uncensored truth your hearts true feelings, saddened breaks down and cry You love each other wholeheartedly This is without an ounce of doubt The unspoken truth is You both know you sinfully bad for one another This will never change, from this waking daydream you want to completely breakout When you love, He hates A constant cause and effect likened to aphrodite in the heat of summer the passion is so raw, you believe you were hexed One moment you both vindictively breaking each other down The next your clothes get strewn to the floor Getting lost in a lustful haze Yet both having one hand on the door. Hungrily taking in every taste and feeling every feathered touch This crazy love is what you both crave Your soul lustfully thirst for A hungered desire that's never enough.

26

I wouldn’t call us friends but we’re close, intimate even - they’ve known me longer, know me better than anyone. They read me, clearly see the full back-catalogue of me, understand me, often better than me and they know just how to wound me, seam doubt in me, refusing a stitch of mercy. Sometimes I think them merciless, sometimes merely vindictively honest, but I cannot deny their knowledge, their perceptiveness. Nevertheless, there are essentials that their words do lack - imagination - hope - kindness and the one furthest from their grasp - forgiveness. And so, I pay greater heed to the friend whose words brim with love, whose knowledge of me is greater, whose patience is longer, and who sees who I am in Him - forgiven.

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Jun 3, 2025

Jun 3, 2025 at 1:48 PM UTC

stevejeff

My Voices

I wouldn’t call us friends but we’re close, intimate even - they’ve known me longer, know me better than anyone. They read me, clearly see the full back-catalogue of me, understand me, often better than me and they know just how to wound me, seam doubt in me, refusing a stitch of mercy. Sometimes I think them merciless, sometimes merely vindictively honest, but I cannot deny their knowledge, their perceptiveness. Nevertheless, there are essentials that their words do lack - imagination - hope - kindness and the one furthest from their grasp - forgiveness. And so, I pay greater heed to the friend whose words brim with love, whose knowledge of me is greater, whose patience is longer, and who sees who I am in Him - forgiven.

26

A little girl splashing in the rain Among cesspools and fantasy green Kicking up the moss, ferns, dogshit Soiling her unspoiled baby shoes Mummy can't grab hold of her Her arms are tiny ***** of light She thrives on carrot mush and mischief Fox **** can't throw her off It's a fresh scent, her button nose Doesn't yet crinkle; sour is captivating She doesn't know there are homeless men She's stamping on the mulch The fairies nip at her ankles, they'll sew Her a twiggy crown for her damp curls Later, a pebble, chiselled, bitter, Thrown vindictively from a high-rise window Will try to knock it down She'll learn about money and hate And scream at the rain Like she's trying to lacerate it Maybe she'll watch it bleed Someone will break her heart and nobody Will be there to make it right Apart from maybe a smelly poet Eating a takeaway dinner A few decades away in a stinking room Probably boozed up A little girl splashing in the dogshit Unaware of gypsies, robbers, death And me just stood there trembling Thinking lucky, Lucky her.

0

Jul 2, 2020

Jul 2, 2020 at 2:47 PM UTC

lilacdom08

young enough for rain

A little girl splashing in the rain Among cesspools and fantasy green Kicking up the moss, ferns, dogshit Soiling her unspoiled baby shoes Mummy can't grab hold of her Her arms are tiny ***** of light She thrives on carrot mush and mischief Fox **** can't throw her off It's a fresh scent, her button nose Doesn't yet crinkle; sour is captivating She doesn't know there are homeless men She's stamping on the mulch The fairies nip at her ankles, they'll sew Her a twiggy crown for her damp curls Later, a pebble, chiselled, bitter, Thrown vindictively from a high-rise window Will try to knock it down She'll learn about money and hate And scream at the rain Like she's trying to lacerate it Maybe she'll watch it bleed Someone will break her heart and nobody Will be there to make it right Apart from maybe a smelly poet Eating a takeaway dinner A few decades away in a stinking room Probably boozed up A little girl splashing in the dogshit Unaware of gypsies, robbers, death And me just stood there trembling Thinking lucky, Lucky her.

32