Shall I compare thee to a most foul stench?
A skunk’s sweet-smelling aura more lovely
Than that ugly face which makes my fists clench.
Pray you leave; that we should be so lucky!
Sometimes too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is your pale complexion broiled,
To peeling, pasty, unnat’ral pink lines,
Reminiscent of a red lobster, oiled.
But soon, sweet sleaze-ball, thine sunburn shall fade
And leave in its wake, that china-fair skin,
Which glitters bright e’en in afternoon shade;
So strange I suspect you are but pure sin.
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives my complete hatred for thee.
Love; over rated
Both paupers and kings
Razor-barbed brass rings
How strangely fated
For this I've waited?
My soul groans then sings
My heart soothes then stings
Alas, Love hated
What am I to do
Where am I to go
Beg a magic brew
Steel my heart to you
Peace my soul may know
Alone... Love I rue!
Are you my real enemy?
If you are, God bless you.
And if you aren’t, I will not curse you.
But, I have to know if ye are physical or eternity.
Do you know why I ask blessing for you?
‘Cause this shows that I’m better than you, eased.
And no matter what, I got to say boo! ! !
‘Cause I know your envy is on what I possessed.
Perhaps, if you are a devil, I have nothing to do ?
Only ask for curse upon you, the gab ages.
And apparently, I hate you; well I do.
I believe, keeping in contiguous will make you lose the advantages.
I live my incredible life so easy, before I got burry.
So keep on hating, watch my back in a hurry.
So stirs the hearts of all, in great delight,
to raise a banner high, the march of fate;
to lead the way, where only dark of night,
might find a way to quench the thirst for hate;
Determined, each is blest to heed the call,
of self appointed leaders of the day,
the good, the bad, the dead, but butchers all,
one crowned in light, the others in decay!
To follow is the way, if wrong or right,
determined by the one who stands at last,
we glow in judgement as if Heaven might
just comprehend the end that binds us fast.
and when we see it come around once more,
all wonder is what leads us on to war?
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
There no use in trying to mend these broken and shattered pieces.
Its done for. Your saying that I'm great, that I'm strong. That I'll find someone else.
It's cut a deep void in my life. And left me completely sleepless.
Only vulgarity comes to mind, I dug deep who knew that so easily, your feelings would melt.
It disappeared overnight. Oh! The unfairness I'm faced with.
Maybe I deserve the pain. From all angles it sprouts.
I'm filled with hate. Length and width.
I tried! I tried! Did you expect me to shout?!
How I miss waking up in love! All smiles, no regrets at all.
It's become a feeling I definitely don't want again, never ever again.
Its a lesson learned, behind happiness, despair crawls!
Don't fall too hard, once you fall, it happens over and over, it never ends.
I hate to say this again, but what's done is done.
There no turning back once the damage is done.
Never again do I want to go through pain
Never ever again
Love, blessed word for the fools
Has been for me one of the most murderous tools
Love, bringing me to my knees
Hoping the heavy rain would cease
Love, never returned to my sorrowful heart
Never making of me the other sweetheart
Torn and bent
Drowned deep in torment
Love is now meant to be forsaken
For never again do I wish to be broken
Strength, strength do I need to live, only strength
Such does keep me alive with good breath!
Children with an illness,
Go through life,
They are looked down apon,
Because they are different,
When really they are not,
They are no different from you and me,
They have the same blood,
Running through their bodies,
Just as their hearts as well,
So, don't just look apon,
Their outer appearance,
And judge them,
For who they really are,
For a lot of them,
Are smarter and brighter,
Than you and I,
Could possibly be,
On our brightest day,
For they have the gifts,
From God up above,
So, always take the time,
To get to know their inner beauty,
For who they really are,
Cause they too need love,
Just as everyone else does,
If not even more.
right and wrong are no longer clear as bell
the truth at times can be worse than a lie
God is in Heaven and Devil in Hell
all the truths we seek may be in the sky
here on the Earth there is more confusion
wars being fought as the poor being ignored
doesn’t matter Muslim Buddhist Christian
we all have a desire to move upward
it’s our hate and ignorance that hurt us
similarities not differences
we need open dialogue without fuss
we all need to unite without fences
let’s do like Lennon’s song Give Peace a Chance
then we all can enjoy French fries in France
MONSIEUR L'VAMPYRE - THE BOMBING OF DRESDEN
There was a night, I still recall it now,
as winters cold had turned to soft and mild,
and gave us hope, that time would still allow
the passing by--of death--as death was filed.
What manner of a beast, or tyrant king,
would set the path to bring destructions' fall
from out the darkened sky, who dare would bring
such catastrophic death to one and all?
Was not my Dresden safe from what was heard
of cities to the north--they fed the flame;
these questions yet remain, who gave the word
that made the good and bad turn out the same?
All evil justified and made in haste
is evil just the same as any waste.
I'd only just returned, in my own way,
within the dark from Paris, where I be
caught up with joy of liberation day,
when love was made alive and running free.
But lo! My thirst was filled, before too long,
my heart grew weary to be with mine own,
so in the dark my flight was swift and strong
and ended at an inn that few have known.
Perched on a hillside looking down the plain
from off the balcony, the Dresden lights
gave glimmer to a cold and drizzle rain
a beauty unsurpassed by any rights.
Invited for a night of talk and wine,
I settled in with a new friend of mine.
And so we wined and danced--into the night
not thoughtful of the war, though raging on,
and Gretchen, lovely Gretchen, felt my bite
upon her neck until her soul was gone
and part of all the loves I ever knew
so thus she came to be one of my own;
and shaken, we both did as lovers do,
and stared into the night for things unknown.
Quite suddenly the groan of engines' roar
though distant, filled the night, and deafening
and over Dresden, telling what's in store,
the fallings lights lit up just ev'rything.
And lighted by Pathfinders, Dresden knew
what ending all their world was coming to.
© Ron Wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
Retaliation must I take to the brim
Like red hot squash dripping from my cold heart
The flashback fills my face with a cruel beam
Like a goatee man in an archaic art
Delirium state sequels squalid motives
My military bayonet plunge deep
A soldier on a foe battering his heads
A sudden freckle of satiation read
Vengeance must I take to relieve my hate
Like a close buddy on a long voyage
Successful must I land before I'm late
To use my bazooka before old age
Here I am hovering like a bat through land
Searching for my brother's murderer to end
NIGHT OF THE LONG KNIVES 2
To your mind's eye, I lay what I may choose
to be the only way you'll ever find,
you'll never have the choice to win or lose,
but go the way I put into your mind.
What evil lurks? You'll never feel the grip
of what I only say between each line.
To lead you on, the vagrant of a ship
of soul, but destined to the will of mine.
Forgotten Swastikas still fly at night,
protected by all time and Horsemen Four,
they'll soon be loosed again, in all their might
and feed upon man's need for time of war.
And I will put these things into your head,
to change it all, from life, to living dead.
Democracy is what God's given you,
and you have loved each minute in your haste,
you'd have it all, yes everything I do,
your treasure chest is overflowed with waste.
And you've forgotten how the world is burned,
night of the long knives never comes to mind,
forgotten in the past you never learned,
the history is there, not hard to find.
I am the master of what is your fate,
in social dominance, I claim it all,
and you will never see until too late,
Intimidation's made the way you'll fall.
And I have changed all things there in your head,
to bring about the life you'll live to dread.
© Ron Wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
(continueing the Monsieur L'Vampyre adventure)
THE DEATH OF MADAMOISELLE duPONT
Dear Stella, up the path, into the park,
deep shadows hide the trees along the Seine,
the quiet of the night accents the dark
and you can feel your breathing now and then.
The peaceful gloom, enveloped by a mist,
all black and gray and shades of morbid white,
accentuates the place your eyes have missed,
where someone waits, who's watched you every night.
This place, where gendarmes warn to be aware,
tonight is more foreboding than you've known,
and so you pause; you look; is someone there?
it's then you realize, you are alone.
The snapping of your heels you hear increase,
as if the hurry puts your mind at peace.
Engulfed, the path leads up and from the Seine,
and then you'll be out of this narrow pit,
but suddenly you feel the eyes again,
much closer than a glove too small to fit.
You struggle with your thinking, in a word,
to flee or just pretend no one is there,
and so you hum a tune you've never heard,
and place your safety in your mother's prayer.
Oh, Stella, Stella, in the spring you'll wed,
your sweet Gaston. Believe he's at your side,
and you will laugh at all this gloom and dread...
though courage might have found you, it has lied.
The shadows all are moving; you can hear
the groaning of someone who's all too near.
The quiet; crickets sounding no alarm,
but now a drizzle rain cools at your heat,
and tingles flowing down onto your arm
remind you of the friends you'll never meet;
quite suddenly, he's grabbed you from behind,
and muffles any sound you might have found,
you cannot scream, to hurt is in your mind,
but he's too quick, he's pinned you to the ground.
Who is this thing, your lover or your friend,
you might have pained...why does he want you dead?
or is this just someone who brings the end,
you've never known, with killing in his head?
You feel no teardrops, feel no blood nor fright,
there's only blinding, blinding, blinding light....
© ron Wilson aka Veebdosa the Doylestown poet
Would you draw my eye from a summer's day?
When it, more lovely and dear, remains?
The brief sight of the open blooms of May,
Lasts more than what interest in you I feign.
Long and fierce does the Earth’s own Sol shine,
Why look at its poor mirror, pale and starved?
With time, what virtue you hold will decline,
Age and pain, cruel lines on plain features carved.
But the eternal summer shall not fade;
Nor will age mar, summer reborn in turns.
No death will bind the warm wind in the shade,
When, put to rest, thou art food for worms.
While I can still feel such, you would ask me,
to waste sight or breath on timid, frail thee?
Valentines Wishes On Dresden
Awakened before sleep had settled in
she peered out to the night of Dresden's way
and though her hero had no war to win
she blew a kiss to him, as if to say
"mein Fuhrer, this, your Fraulein dreams of you
and vishes you could feel this love of mine
I've done most everything a girl could do
but foolish, hope to be your valentine."
And then the bombs fell from a troubled sky
as if mere kisses from the Butcher's lips
before she'd even ask her Heaven why
her world was blown apart by groaning ships;
the understanding of it all is rare
in part because the world just doesn't care.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
When eyes which once gave glances of sweet love
Now send such cruel reproaches to my heart;
When grace uncalled for descended like a dove
But now with pain my skin,once kind, does smart....
At times these days of grief and loss seem harsh
As if some demon owns my inmost heart.
And without grace my lips are dry and parched..
with fear I shiver,tremble and I start.
Shall I attempt retaliation for this hurt?
What weapon shall I use to vent my rage?
my lips were never fashioned to be curt.
My soul,no warrior eager war to wage
How shall I find my way out of this maze,
back to green fields where sheep so docile graze?
SARAJEVO - the sniper
He hides behind the dirty window pane
with eyes all cold and void of any care
in blinding heat or through a drizzle rain
his thoughts are only what has brought him there
his mind's not thinking that's a special friend
nor is that girl in love; he doesn't care;
the choice comes on with no thought of the end
and made, perhaps, because she's standing there.
His sight is set, and all she'll ever be
gives way to things her life will never know
and when she falls and lays there helplessly
his only thought is she was quick to go.
All in a breath, he's layed her to the street;
and ended life to make his day complete.
© Ron Arbuthnot aka Ron Wilson
SARAJEVO the peacekeepers
Tomorrow there won't come a morning bright
filled with a hope that peace has come at last
and smiling girls can't dance out of a night
that's been too dark and too long in the past;
from out of troubled dreams, peacekeepers dare
to bring an end to hates' eternity
not knowing it is roots that brought it there
they stumble in the cold and misery,
they'd surely dance with all the girls they find
except their worlds are separated by
the ways that time's erased from their own mind
and so they scratch their heads, and wonder why;
an understanding never comes around
and so they leave it all the way it's found.
© Ron Arbuthnot
Is it a sin to say I hate you?
Even if this is how I feel?
Lack of remorse and empathy
Your reactions simply unreal
I was raised never to say this
With morals and values emplaced
But I cannot help to feel this
My life with you is such a total waste
I hate you more than anything
This feeling I cannot hide
You see it when I look at you
So foolish, tossing it to the side
I was raised to be better than this
And never to say hurtful things
A sin to me would be hiding
The hate inside and what it brings
So yes I definitely hate you
Everything little thing you portray
I hope you have a good back up plan
This trial is over, my life begins today
© Stacy Lynn Stiles