Rob Levasseur Poet Free verse

Spit Forth Guts

Oh the venom on these lips
cold fury should you
taste it there.  Drink
deep my gathering gloom
quench your thirst for
my lies and my truths
and my muted thoughts.

Stand still frozen dead
in pools of wonder and
dread for this poison
that seeps into your
pores will not soon
leave the haunted spaces
your frightened places
there will be myriad traces
where it killed the
wonder it found in your
dull and dreary mind.

Choke on toxic thoughts
vomit my musings and
spit forth guts colored
black with doubt and
fear and torment stain
the ground with your
loosened purpose your
pathetic beliefs that
words are always intentions
of the noble and righteous.

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Bernardo F. Asuncion June 11, 2021 at 12:08 PM A well crafted opus, Sir Rob. Please, keep safe all the time.

Robert Lindley March 18, 2021 at 7:33 AM Sir, you do dark poetry so very well. I could feel the anger and seething rage as I read the great verses. Definitely a superb poem that puts it ALL out there. A fine fav for me too. God bless..

L Milton Hankins December 28, 2020 at 9:16 AM I was confused by "found in your dull and dreary mind." The reader's? Mine? The poem was thought-provoking, to say the least, and requires several readings! I would love to know your mood when you wrote this. Were you angry? Depressed? Lonely? Disgusted? In any case, few poems have provoked quite this reaction from me. Profound? Perhaps! Thanks for sharing. L Milton Hankins January 15, 2021 at 7:03 PM Goodness, I hope you never become angry with me! Rob Levasseur December 28, 2020 at 9:25 AM I was angry and lashing out at another poet years ago on wordpress who had attacked my genuinity.

Andrea Dietrich December 20, 2020 at 3:01 PM Very profound poetry. Love the ending on this. Rob Levasseur December 28, 2020 at 9:24 AM Thank you so very much Andrea! Sorry so late in my response.

Lady Labyrinth December 18, 2020 at 3:45 PM absolutely brilliant. Love it. You good sire, have the gift. Rob Levasseur December 18, 2020 at 4:05 PM You are way too kind. But it is one of my all-time favorites. Post rhyme era.

Patrick Mehr December 18, 2020 at 9:57 AM The last 4 lines of this piece do show how the scales are indeed , skewed. by more than just a thumb,often times its a heavy hand. A dark hand..... I enjoyed this poem. it gives me more to ponder as I stroll about. Nice thanks Rob Levasseur December 18, 2020 at 12:29 PM Not sure what you meant, and I do appreciate the read.