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Best Achilles Heel Poems | Poetry

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Modern Day Achilles Heel by Sherman, Michele
Superman's Other Achilles' Heel by Camp, Elton
Achilles Heel by horsman, harry
Achilles' Heel by Ahearn, Albert
Achilles Heel by Carney, Tatyana

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The Best Achilles Heel Poems

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And The Band Played On....Part I

Piranhas, within a canaries cannibal world....

Feasting upon the flesh, of another innocent and vulnerable life

Delivered by the hands of darkness' entrenched; unknowing but willing, messengers of woe!

In hopes of crippling and destroying, by means of ridicule, guilt and shame

The subtle and not so subtle, of the spiteful and scorned....

Chatterings like arrows, from their poisoned bows

Within comments and verse, and their opened air words

Always the same-looking for their entrance, to bring another to their knees

To evoke their own will? These amissfully mangled and subverse desires

Within, these shatteringly tainted dreams....

Relentlessly they search, for the Achilles heel, to crumble yet anothers hope!

Traveling through these mediums of morbids main, and fluttering hearts....

In through the side doors, and along the corridores, via way, of the shadowish mind

Enter the sublimes of deceivings presented, before all of Heavens sight!

While as half closed eyes stand in silence, all about, within muted watch....

Reminding myself of a case years ago; where a young girl was beaten, stabbed and murdered

As at least a dozen different people, cowered within their rooms

Amid her desperate cries, beggings and pleas for help; help, that would never arrive!?

So such it seems so very often, among many within this society in which we live....

Whom turn their backs and avert their glance; while bowing their heads, and walking on by

Back, into their own blackened holes!....(Cont)


Copyright © John Rhinem | Year Posted 2009


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One Month

I want to be the man who’ll be more than your man
I want to be the one you make your best friend
Not to replace the ones you got
But a different one to start
A different kind of love for you
A man with a different point of view
Who really doesn’t care to lay you on your back
I really don’t care to get you in the sack
I don’t care what’s between your legs
Interested with what’s in your heart and your head
Your intelligence to hold me
Your love to move me
Doesn’t matter to me how sex with you would be
Would love you still if we left and you never slept with me.

I want to be there when you need a rock
I want to be the one to stop
You in your tracks when you approach me
Want to be the only man you see
I want to know what makes you tick
I want to take care of you baby when you’re sick
Not the kind of man to obsess bout the size of your chest
The kind of man to try to ease your fears
Not caring about the state of your hair
Instead bring your eyes near,
Let me stare and get lost
Take me to the source of your innocence
Let me fall into your essence
Swept away by your beauty
Amazing me with your purity. 

For you what I feel
Makes you my Achilles’ Heel
My only sweet weakness 
My eternal kryptonite
Thoughts of holding you tonight
My caramel princess
I must confess my heart’s distress
Leaving it a wonderful mess
A mass confusion of feelings
Making me a believer
Making me the receiver
Of a presence so divine.

Don’t make these tears drop
Try not to stop
What we both know is here
Learn to gaze and stare
Into my soul through my eyes
To  win that forever prize
That’s bigger than us both
Realize perpetual growth. 

Although soon we have to go away 
Honestly right now I wish to stay
In your arms
Listen to your heartbeat and let it calm
A few storms of my own
Can’t believe how much this has grown
In just a month…….


Copyright © Lyndell Cadasse | Year Posted 2005


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Murdered Love

My love for you is a creature, a solid breathing 
Entity, a mangled creation of shadow-black flesh 
And the thread-like interwoven muscles of my 
Bleeding excuses…
The paltry reasons I put up with your countless 
Slights, insults, depravities, are its backbone, 
The eyes are mere sockets, the hollowed out orbs 
Where my intuition has failed…
My love for you stalks at my feet, its hot breath 
Warming my Achilles heel, the weakness that lets you in…
I cannot escape you…I cannot fool myself into hatred, 
Though it’s just a thin line away, 
I cannot shake off this damnable love, no matter how much 
It hurts, no matter the knives of white-hot agony that stab 
My heart, no matter how you choke me with your ropes 
Of lies and deceit…and you, how you repay me,
You pick up the shards of my shattered dreams, so much crushed glass, 
And grind them into my weeping wounds, you spit on 
My flailing hopes as they flap on the ground like crows 
With tattered dragging wings…you murder me with a smile…
And all the while my love for you clings to my hem, bulldog determined, 
Digging deeper and deeper into my melting soul, penetrating the bone, 
Burning brands of linked sixes in my marrow 
Soon I fear it will bite so deep it will sever me in two, and leave me, 
A mangled maimed malcontent dying slowly in a pool 
Of my own pathetic longing…my own self destructive love   


Copyright © Amy Van de Casteele | Year Posted 2009


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Modern Day Achilles Heel

this boy - 
he is mythology
he is the pomegranate sitting in persephone's 
palm - 
(looks can be deceiving)

this boy - 
he is a mirror
can show medusa what heaven really is - 
how pain really feels 
but medusa never looks 

this boy in the sun - 
he is the smoking gun 
in the death of icarus; 
he is the crime scene in the middle of the ocean 

this boy - 
this boy is murder 
he is cain holding a blade to abel's throat, 
holding a mirror up to medusa, 
force-feeding a pomegranate to persephone

this boy cuts the snakes off medusa's head
and makes snake-skin boots;
plucks the melted feathers from icarus'
cold hands and makes a throw pillow

this boy is murder when he wants to be;
this boy is murder when he needs to be


Copyright © Michele Sherman | Year Posted 2018


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Pie Chart Chaos

When Jill was asked to create a “Pie Chart”
She believed her teacher meant a la carte
     Using a Lego set
     Jill felt her goal was met
When she finished, there was not one spare part

Her project resembled a Ferris Wheel
Huge peach pie in the center of the reel
     And her passenger carts
     Were scrumptious cherry tarts
But Jill’s effort had an Achilles’ heel

She took care bringing the pie wheel to class
Some oohs and ahs her project did amass
     But the wheel in motion
     Caused quite a commotion
Pies flew to faces with a forward pass

Kids didn’t mind as they ate the remains
But most of Jill’s friends had custard for brains
     A class pie fight ensued
     And Miss Bigbutt so shrewd
Gobbled crumbs citing eminent domain



*October 11, 2014







Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2014


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Rosalia - The Evil Black Witch of the Harz, Part Four

Rosalia - The Evil Witch of the Harz, Part Four

Rosalia’s Date with Destiny and the Power of Light and Goodness
It is said that the Almighty Lord God works in very mysterious ways . . . 
meaning that even an all-powerful witch like Rosalia had her Achilles’ heel, and could lose her sheen of invincibility in certain instances which date back to the earliest clashes between Good and Evil at the outset of mankind.

With her perfect cover working in a local village Inn near the Brocken, Rosalia could plan, plot and scheme her witchcraft activities at will 
when meeting unsuspecting villagers and outside visitors alike—
giving her near-unlimited control in shaping the very course of events.
Fate would have it, however, that one event would challenge and alter Rosalia’s perfect cover forever . . . 

One day a young girl—named Aurelia, who was barely 15 years old,
visited local village relatives while traveling near the Brocken.
Aurelia, who was quite intelligent and mature for her age was also a 
close relative of the regional church Monseigneur, Wolfgang Augustus Hardenberg, and she was part of a traditional German catholic family. 

Aurelia was a rare child indeed, endowed with “Heavenly Eyes”
from her eternal soul at birth which gave her a unique, unusual gift 
of sensing and seeing the true nature of the men, women, and children
as they came into contact with her . . . without them realizing it. 

Aurelia, with this fantastic gift, was truly one of God’s children,
and the antithesis of Rosalia and the incarnate evil she represented.
Aurelia’s family was fully aware of God’s favor on their daughter
and all of the goodness and light she shared with them in the family.

Aurelia was also quick study; she was endowed with an unusual ability to absorb, understand and remember vast amounts of information and detail.
And while attending religious schools, she demonstrated an exceptional proclivity early on for learning and mastering classical foreign languages. 

Aurelia too was a centuries’ old soul like Rosalia, but whereas Rosalia embraced the Dark Side, and was the very manifestation of evil and debauchery; 
Aurelia embraced the Light and Goodness of the Almighty,
and was one of God’s angelic souls destined to do his bidding in the continuous titanic struggle against Lucifer and his Dark World minions;
she was truly a “Princess of the Light” and a “Precious Child of God.”   

With this in mind . . .
On visiting the local village Inn with relatives one afternoon for lunch,
Aurelia immediately felt the presence of a specter of evil and foreboding.
And this specter was, of course, none other than . . . Rosalia.
Beyond her perceptible sensing and feeling of pure evil,
Aurelia was able to make momentary visual contact with Rosalia,
and with her God-given heavenly vision glanced the true image of Rosalia,
which filled her at once with undeniable dread, fright and revulsion
at the terrible visage cast by Rosalia among her unsuspecting relatives.

Aurelia was in luck since Rosalia felt no reason to suspect her, thus paying no attention to the young girl with her relatives.

Aurelia’s God-given power shielded her from Rosalia’s attention,
at least for now . . .  
From the encounter at the village Inn, Aurelia knew that some of her relatives were already marked by the witch.

After the visit to the Inn, Aurelia immediately informed her unsuspecting parents of the evil incarnate she sensed and discovered at the Inn.

Time was fleeting and quick action would be required to corroborate this event. It was already Monday, and on the upcoming Saturday, which was All Hallows’ Eve on October 31st, Rosalia’s Coven was set to conduct The Black Witches’ Sabbath in celebration of the Devil himself. This evil Sabbath event was done twice a year with the one preceding All Hallows’ Eve occurring on April 30th on the Great Sabbath of Walpurgis Nacht.

The preparation of the Black Witches’ Sabbath would include black rituals and both human and animal sacrifices with the invocation of the Vespers’ Prayer Preparation for Black Mass, followed by a 24-hour period of preparation by the Coven for its next attack on the local villagers.

Riding horseback to the Cloister Marten in the Harz some 20 kilometers away, Aurelia’s father traveled there with two close trusted friends to inform Monseigneur Hardenberg of Aurelia’s unexpected discovery of the infamous and evil Black Witch of the Harz known as Rosalia. 

On hearing of the discovery of Rosalia and her masquerade in human form,
the Monseigneur instinctively knew that immediate action was required, 
and that the very lives of the villagers and their eternal souls were in the greatest of peril.

An immediate meeting with his council of priests at Cloister Marten was in order; there was now a chance that Rosalia and her Coven could be finally 
destroyed forever. This chance event had been a long time coming and the Monseigneur knew that they must not fail.

The Monseigneur also knew that God’s avengers must act smartly . . .
Rosalia was a virulent evil force not to be taken lightly nor underestimated.
Many priests and their parishioners had already succumbed to the Devil 
and his Dark World of eternal damnation, courtesy of Rosalia.

The Monseigneur would need Aurelia’s help in finding Rosalia’s Coven,
and he realized that he and his priests must prepare for the greatest test of their faith, as they contemplated their plan to destroy Rosalia and her spawn of evil.

The Monseigneur understood all too well that to face down Rosalia was almost the same as facing the very Devil himself.

The Monseigneur and his priests must be swift in their vengeance against Rosalia in the name of the Lord, and that a second chance may not be in the offing.

End of Part Four

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, Schoeningen, Germany (September 20, 2014)


Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2014


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Achilles Heel

We are gifted life
for later to be taken
so why emotion
that used to manipulate,
strength built on the fear of it.

© Harry J Horsman 2014    


Copyright © harry horsman | Year Posted 2014


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Sonnet: ''A Student's Crush''

My lovely friend and favored professor; 
is it so wrong to love and to admire
you with so amorous a deep splendor
that knows no limits—just heartfelt desire?
Your silhouette is my Achilles' heel
and your lips (what lips those are!) dare I kiss?
Your cheeks that blush with life and tint reveal
a sound and healthy form that moves my bliss.
Woe am I! my Gordion knot—a lust
for you that seizes me when you’re so near;
must I sweep under the ground and the dust 
my urgent feelings for you that you fear? 
     If I were not your man-student, dear friend,     
     could I be more to you by this poem's end? 







Copyright © Ngoc Nguyen | Year Posted 2014


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"In The Name of 'Love!'" ~

There was a king once, along with his hearts queen....

Their fascinating empire was an amazing moment in time

Far above the other kingdoms amid this world they stood

So much so that, their eyes looked despisingly down upon

Certain inhabitants created by the very same hand as they themselves

Driven by deepened emotions born along the course of histories many tales....

Superior they were, within almost every conceivable way it did seem

How could anyone or anything ever be, considered!?

Hate thus birthed itself to become but, an achilles heel once more

Before, the foundations of purpose were ever layed; these, revelations....

A darkness of soul and spirit extended itself, as a cancerous plague

Permeating this empires throne and people; ascending unto the highest heavens

Where the Creator of all looked upon, they, once radiant lights of beauty ~

"He," had held so deeply inside of "His" glory with, the most magical of "Love!"

Centuries unfolded like pages from within a book as, tears overflowed

Like rivers towards the waiting seas; heads bowed, to taste miseries pain?

Until one day the Creators heart had seen enough and, compassions light....

Reached "His" tender hand into the despised lowly humanity before their eyes and

Lifted a child within "His" wonderous palms; majestic and lovely, infinite palms ~

Unto their kingdoms door, he was thus there sent; a messenger, amid their mist!?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the name of, "Love!" 









Copyright © John Rhinem | Year Posted 2010


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A Man


man’s Achilles’ heel is not shown when he is mad it’s when he’s in love
;) Nov. 23, 2012 Note: This is Man's Nature this time not nature of nature. I suppose to say, madly in love, lol. Third Place Contest: Haiku 101 For Newbies to Haiku and / or Poetry Soup Contest Judged: 11/23/2012 Sponsor: Poet Charles Henderson


Copyright © Galeo DS | Year Posted 2012


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THE UNREPENTANT VIRAGO

THE UNREPENTANT VIRAGO


Named for a man, my treason’s not my own
My tantalising tales tame his temerity
As I cling to the cliff-hanger 
Of my own biopic, my to-be-tested verity
He claims I am inevitable as the ocean
And my head will roll, be beached upon the sand
And he will come and take me by the hand.

I will scream loudly history’s muffling cry
Show female slavery, oppression till he wonders why
The goddess in him was quenched, and died of thirst
He thinks then that I will be the first
To bandage up his Achilles heel with Elastoplast!

Published, I’ m not damned, but live with gumption
I’m here to fix his arrogant presumption.

By Rosemarie Rowley


Copyright © Rosemarie Rowley | Year Posted 2014


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Goodbye, Cruel Colleague

Appearance was your entire routine.
But truth is found if one looks deep enough.
A walking good first impression machine,
Yet something else when we cut through the fluff.

If not a teammate, what is a colleague?
No possible chance for a working team.
You thought you were so far out of our league,
Your sincere belief: You must be the Queen.

So underhanded, thought you were witty,
Stealthily swinging your velvet hammer.
You guarded my back just like Frank Nitti,
Knife-wielding in Kevlar body glamour.

‘Tween glamour and beauty the difference be,
One illusion, the other genuine
To conceal, from all who attempt to see
The inner workings of your Janus mind.

Botox, silicone, hair dye, and makeup
Formed your outer plastic geometry.
An eldritch dark lurked under the fakeup,
Fearful spiritual dysymmetry.

Your extroversion turned soul perversion,
Leveraging venom out through the crowd.
Backbiting, nastiness, and subversion
Brought the resulting silences so loud.

Spinning yarns, a bovine defecator.
Although the specifics remain unknown,
Twisting minds, a mental fornicator.
If water ripples, unseen rock was thrown.

A fell Disney Witch incarnate, it’s true,
Adept at the ins and outs of culture.
The bad element did flock straight to you--
Decay smells like gourmet to a vulture.

But Karma is a bear, everyone knows
Working at times slowly, ineffably
Eventually your time bomb did blow.
With no little schadenfreude, truthfully.

Our faults can be found through introspection
But not while there is a beam in you eye
Ever in love with your own reflection
Achilles Heel, the root of your goodbye.

It became so clear, you were no fair elf.
Over time, the whole truth will always out.
Most couldn’t guess ‘til they saw for themselves
The walls have eyes, ears, and certainly, mouths.

A guilty pleasure, as I was so blessed
Chatting with the chairman about work things,
Standing there when your pager hit his desk
Blessed relief! Oh, how my heart did sing!

I’m not proud of my lack of sympathy
Covered with grime from rolling in your muck.
Your nastiness left me no empathy
Just not my problem that you became stuck.

After all, one thing yet remains with me
Doubtful the impression you’d be wanting.
Simply an abiding sense of pity,
The emptiness of your life is haunting.

All I can do is offer a prayer
Up for you, but so I can heal from this.
Open my wounds to the Spirit’s fresh air
Having exposed my soul to your Abyss.

3/10/16


Copyright © Tom Quigley | Year Posted 2016


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The Bird

Following the stupefying sensation of my heart
I take a long and high flight
With the wings of self-deception.
Having some kind of foolhardiness,
I fly in search of green fields
Leaving behind the dreary desert
To sing sweet songs of life.
The warnings of my Prudence,
To stay with my other mates, go unheeded.
The green fields once
Where I yearn to reach
Turn into the burning flames
With deadly smoke
That chokes my throat
And darkens my vision.
And  I, no more able to fly,
Fall into the lap of disillusionment.
Wings are fully burnt
And burnt I am from within.
Sobbing at the impulsiveness-my Achilles’ heel-
With a sigh, waiting for the last breath,
I close my eyes.


Copyright © Jagdish Pal | Year Posted 2017


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Cooler

Fifty years of bustin’ ***, I never had a dime,
If I had any balls at all, I’d’ve chose a life of crime;

I never owned a brand new truck, a flat TV or yacht,
I figured I deserved much more, but settled for what I got;

I’ve had some ladies in the past, one of them I wed,
The day she said her last good-bye, I was still chained to the bed; 

Intentions never mattered much; all efforts were in vain,
So I decided it was time to quit, and end all of the pain;

I took a walk to Clary Bridge, took aim at a boulder,
All I got was a branch in the *** and a dislocated shoulder;

After I was discharged, I tried new methodology,
The light bulb in my head told me electricity!

So I opened up the breaker door and gave a golden shower,
The GFI installed last June shut down all the power;

I stood there in my basement, with my futility
Steeped in humiliation and a bit of my own pee;

Resolute to find a means to ensure I would expire,
In a blaze of glory, the world would see me set myself on fire;

I strutted to the gas pump, a human birthday candle,
In front of rush hour traffic, I squeezed the oily handle;

Lighter in my right hand, I lit it fully gassed,
It took all of three seconds for the fire suppression blast.

It covered cars and people white, causing all some grief,
Hacking coughs, angry stares and one pissed off fire chief;

Never knowing when to quit is my Achilles heel,
I set my sights on a lofty cliff and got behind the wheel;

The steepest edge that I recalled was at the Jamesville Quarry 
So in the dust of my rear windshield I scratched the words “Memento mori”

Crossed my fingers just for luck, that things would go as planned,
Between the gasket and the tow, it would cost about a grand;

Later in the waiting room, in line to see the shrink,
I chatted with a fellow sod to see what he did think;

I told him of my luckless life, burdened by a curse,
And my desire to end my life and ride off in a hearse;

He listened quite intently, with a smile and a nod,
Then said he had a deal for me, although it may seem odd;

He told me gambling addiction was his infirmity,
And leaning forward in his seat, knew just the place for me;

I’m paying all my bills on time; my life is somewhat stable,
I have a little pocket cash and Friday I get cable

No longer do I make attempts to do myself some harm,
Turned the tables on my curse of being a bad luck charm;

The casino really likes me, they pay me a good buck;
I’m working as a “cooler” now, breaking peoples luck.


Copyright © Luke Irwin | Year Posted 2012


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Rejection

Our childhood was selfish reign
did nothing but cause personal pain
our parents did naught for the self-worth gain
but ridiculed us into shame.

All our lives we tried to change
the internal dialogue negative was
rejection hounded like a savage dog
not able to let go of its forming fog.

We ran away to seek our fortunes
but self destruct was meant to be
life was hard, a test you see
the best wasn't meant to be.

The least we knew, but wanted more
why not settle the shameful score
because rejection sits at the core
keeping love outside the door.

I know the answer! Self-help books adorn
read with fever but left forlorn
happiness clouded as I now morn
left wishing I was never born.

Everything I've tried was to heal
this became my Achilles Heel.
The wheel of life, the circle done
I accept my lot, rejection won.


Copyright © Amanda Grant | Year Posted 2014


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A Night On Gossamer Wings

You've drawn the feelings from within
And charged my mortal soul
The energy of your sweet love
Has filled me to the whole

I'm basking in the afterglow
I hear the angels sing
I feel as though I'm flying through
The night on gossamer wings

Tenderness cannot describe
The way you've made me feel
I now believe that your sweet love
Is my achilles heel

I cling to what we had tonight
I'll never let it go
I hope that it was just a seed
That time will beg to grow

I hold you close and feel the warmth
Of your precious love
My only thought is this must be
A gift from God above


Rockman


Copyright © Rockman Pritts | Year Posted 2011


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The Bad Year Befell (Annus Horribilis)

The bad year befell when the prior had passed so well,
With no warning night descended and a charmed existence ended
As a starving bird of prey came to roost one average day,
Ate the blue out of the sky, pecked the sparkle from the eye.

It dragged its talons slow across the life I used to know,
Never paused to catch a breath, simply put the world to death;
Relentless and remote, ripped the soul and sank the boat,
Black reposed and ghoul surveyed all the changes it had made.

The bad year befell and with it tumbled hell,
Crushing love and passion dead beneath a fire and brimstone tread,
Breathing poison to erase all designs without a trace,
Until all it left to hold were some ashes sour and cold.

Looking back on everything with a future painted grim,
Thus conclude and contemplate on the cruel hand of fate;
Rise to curse complacency, that Achilles heel decree,
Who foresees without a doubt when time is running out?

The bad year befell with a parable to tell
That no matter who you are you can push your luck too far,
And no matter what you do you are always left with you
And despite your best endeavour nothing ever lasts forever…


Copyright © Tony Bush | Year Posted 2005


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The Thinker

He is a great thinker,
they would often say.
For his gift they would often utter,
any cost we would be willing to pay.

Opportunities in solitude he would seize.
And he saw things that no one else could see.
He saw musical notes in the winter breeze.
He saw intricacy in the simple bumble bee.

His poetry was innovative.
His arguments were precise
Inside his mind were thoughts evocative.
Living in his daydreams, he considered to be nice.

But this genius wasn’t without flaw.
He had one Achilles heel.
All sorts of lovers and friends he saw,
and to him they had no appeal.

And to his company of friends he put a stop,
and sought his own mind for his thrills.
For when one has stood on the mountaintop,
he can no longer enjoy the low-lying hills.

For the normal man, friends and fortunes are his themes.
His creature comforts he will never exhaust.
But the Thinker cannot live without his daydreams,
for every gift has a cost. 


Copyright © Daniel Carter | Year Posted 2016


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Light On the Devil's Chord - Day 11

In a sudden nodding shift,
I was lifted into the air by the hard wings of the Devil
His putrid stench waking me from what seemed all dream
And upon a balcony of singed vine and blackened soot,
He set me standing
The persistent chirping and buzzing,
Wailing and crying from the maelstrom gnawed my gut
As my eyes opened to this new creation  
Swooping swiftly beside me, a tower of jagged filth and beauty all in one,
He looked down upon me, and out at the parted maelstrom,
And the mighty blue-green light pulsating periodically in golds and reds
Emanating in the center of its massive attachment on the walls of the pit
I stood beside him, in awe of my placement,
In awe of such a purpose now,
A moment that seemed so peaceful, yet full of plot and rot
For he rots and rots in his pit, delightful of it
Estranged from the light, and still intrigued by its merge with his nasty night
By the collaborating genius of his spite, and my light

“Look here, woman,
At the breathing entity before you,
How I breathe like you, sing like you, dream like you
And yet we are parted by such a thing as order
That in the command of your God you stand resilient before me
Splitting my maelstrom to merge with your light
And in turn releasing in me, confusing delight
I am most fortunate to attain such a pleasure as this
That He in such faith has put you before me,
To prove we cannot ignite each other 
To prove we cannot delight each other
Did He so believe you would sing these duets,
With sustaining soul and heart,
Without a withered doubt to part
To mark your superiority and strength,
Gainst a prisoner of art…”

I gazed at the masterpiece before me,
Having only heard his song in the background of the increasingly loud buzzing
And my eyes turned to face his gaze, 
For the masterpiece he beheld, was a masterpiece he wished to graze 

“I have suffered lesions of doubt in my past life, Prince,
Entities of darkness swarming like the insects buzzing in your maelstrom,
Their almost human temperaments convincing downfalls I was cursed with
How we are not as righteous as the next prisoner of sin
How we are no different, no special, and nobody wins…
I am not sad that you are here, Devil,
I do not grieve you like a poor kitten in a drainpipe, 
Like a wounded bird screeching for its wings to bring it upright,
You have brought this residence of woe onto yourself, 
And for that I cannot apologize, 
I cannot sympathize,
Or recognize the true feelings your trampled heart forays
I have risen above such angry, bitter and blackened thoughts,
To make need and necessity crave for spirit of truth,
To rest in virtuous contemplation of a heartier creation…
I look out upon this parted maelstrom and see your allowance of my light,
Though I know you cannot fully appreciate what it means to love,
To appreciate the sheer brilliance of its swell,
Its contrast of color from the green-blue fires, 
To the gaping swirls and screams of your hell
I do not feel sorry for what you have done,
But for what will become of you
In the ending times,
Where I will say goodbye

We shant meet upon this balcony as we do today,
Watching our creation, and singing through the fray
I will see no more the long wings, 
The pulsing rings, and the fetid stings 
 You are a lion who will not retreat
And I am a lion who refuses to eat…”

Staring off into the beaming light, 
His eyes trailing detailed swirls of screaming victims,
Hands and feet wriggling in the muck,
The monsters swimming, biting and grinning
He guided my hand to the center of my light

“See the shadows cast within the light you mast,
Your God fought me to never see how they danced,
How I serving He would always last, 
That even the heartiest angels could never surpass
See how the light fights to subsist with my subordinates
How it merely sustains to point out the beauty of each flaw
How it reveals the true evils within,
How it mocks with righteous piety
The Achilles' heel of sin
Without the light in this dark, 
Have I a place to retreat? 
Till Your God has blessed me,
Teased me, with a lioness so prone to me
See us dance in the center between dark and light
How none leads the other,
How none crests or smothers…
This is the Domination Age woman,
Where soon my gates will be open,
Where soon, even your light cannot remain so bright
Gainst the growth of the grin of my beastly scheme
I don’t need you to be sorry for me, woman!
Only awed, inspired, enlightened! 
How this new revelation reveals command only in hiding
You are no longer lion, dreadful daughter in my sight
You are a leech, a vermin, ready to eat, retreat and reveal
You are the messenger to all you stand up for
A slave, in a way, to understanding this bottomless me…”




Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2015


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Spitfire

SPITFIRE

The heart beats at the beauty of 
The silent elegant beast
Getting close on the morning dew
Ready for this flying feast
Pulling the blade just once or twice
Rolls Royce chucks smoke of blue
The heartbeat of this grand old bird
Will always run true

With awesome grace she lifts her nose
To lift you from the mire
The smile just glows adrenaline flows
At the beauty of the Spitfire

We dance on clouds on silvered wings
We wheeled and soared and swung
Higher than where eagles sing
Where British heroes won
Tyrant hordes gathered near
And tried to show their power
But like a terrier born to fight
They gave us our finest hour

With awesome grace she lifts her nose
To lift you from the mire
The smile just glows adrenaline flows
At the beauty of the Spitfire

the late great Mr Churchill said
You did us proud, we sing it loud
That you were our Achilles Heel
So much owed by so many to so few 
We owe our life our freedom rife
So many here, unaware
At the debt we really owe you
now in debt forever


Copyright © Si Villan | Year Posted 2015


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The Fear of Meeting Humanity

Being human means meeting humanity
fears come in holding vocal chords
amid this emotional rollercoaster
feels like sharp tipped swords

People causes nervousness within
their presence takes away any calm
such makes the throat dry up
bringing to me such alarm

Thus so stammering shows itself
as it blocks words keeping them at bay
frustration mounts as communication stalls
sometimes silence has its way

So fears are my Achilles heel
learning to cope with all of this
living each moment take it in stride
whatever's destined I won't miss


Copyright © Gordon McConnell | Year Posted 2016


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Skin Deep

Achilles' heel 
You’re another day older
The world’s much colder
She…

It’s not your fault
They were taken 
Don’t blame yourself 
for God’s mistake
Is…

Her beauty reflects your own
Her life reflects your future
Chasing rabbits will get you there faster
Loss of faith will bring you there faster
Watching…

The ball drops
It’s clever to see
What happens to us
And here we are
Waiting…

Yes, 
Take the evil out of this
You’re stronger
She’s stronger and always,
Loving…


Copyright © John Paluszek | Year Posted 2013


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Happily Ever After

I close my eyes
Squeeze them tight
Pray I float away
To some magical night

I’ve been wishing away the life I have
And dreaming of a life I’ll never have
This is the crutch in my plans
My Achilles heel
My search for hope only proves to fail
And loneliness is what I feel
It seems that happily ever after is but a fairy tale

I sit beneath the crashing waters
Waiting for something that truly matters
I watch my dreams roll back away from me
I watch them get lost in the endless sea
These waves have depleted my existence of all significance
I’m gasping for air and I can’t see a way out of this

Is it all just a dream I made up in my head?
Would it all be better if I just went to bed?
Let me dream away and don’t wake me up
The cold reality of life just doesn’t give up
Let me dream away and then I can pretend
That I’ll live happily ever after until the end



Copyright © Kimberly Ruiz | Year Posted 2014


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Love Malcontent

My love for you is a creature, a solid breathing 
Entity, a mangled creation of shadow-black flesh 
And the thread-like interwoven muscles of my 
Bleeding excuses…
The paltry reasons I put up with your countless 
Slights, insults, depravities, are its backbone, 
The eyes are mere sockets, the hollowed out orbs 
Where my intuition has failed…
My love for you stalks at my feet, its hot breath 
Warming my Achilles heel, the weakness that lets you in…
I cannot escape you…I cannot fool myself into hatred, 
Though it’s just a thin line away, 
I cannot shake off this damnable love, no matter how much 
It hurts, no matter the knives of white-hot agony that stab 
My heart, no matter how you choke me with your ropes 
Of lies and deceit…and you, how you repay me,
You pick up the shards of my shattered dreams, so much crushed glass, 
And grind them into my weeping wounds, you spit on 
My flailing hopes as they flap on the ground like crows 
With tattered dragging wings…you murder me with a smile…
And all the while my love for you clings to my hem, bulldog determined, 
Digging deeper and deeper into my melting soul, penetrating the bone, 
Burning brands of linked sixes in my marrow 
Soon I fear it will bite so deep it will sever me in two, and leave me, 
A mangled maimed malcontent dying slowly in a pool 
Of my own pathetic longing…my own self destructive love   


Copyright © Amy Van de Casteele | Year Posted 2009


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Dark Skin

I was not told that I would be dark as a shadow in a solitary hole.
No not my soul, but the flesh that doesn't match the man who birth 
me; but all of the one that spent seven months moaning for my release

I was not told that it would be my Achilles heel to everyone's jokes
and punchlines as they all fought with bare hands and I with a muzzle.

Words aren't suppose to hurt, but living in a shadow, how could I see 
the light behind all the dark remarks that tainted my very existence of 
living. 

I was not told that love was color blind and that many years later I would
only see happiness when reaching for the light. that I would also be
criticized for not seeing color like many of those I grew up around. Yet,
their skin too would match the blacktop that we all once played as friends.

However, no one told those that kept me in the shadows for all those years 
that I am light. No not skin tone, but my heart that holds anyone that I come 
across in my life. I'm lighter than a feather on my feet which allows me to
never stay down, for I am light and the shadow that I once was vanished as
my eyes opened to the sun.





Copyright © Tyrone C. Johnson | Year Posted 2015