Best Antagonistic Poems
"I'm a conundrum. Or an enigma. I forget which." James A. Owen
In a white man's world,
I've become an enigma,
feeling like I don't belong,
trying to break the stigma.
In these mental maladapted creations,
against misplaced monachopsis damnations,
they stare at the colour of your skin,
like it's some dirty unwashable sin.
Be like Nelson Mandela,
you have the strength to fight,
once labelled a terrorist,
he said: 'always shine your light.'
Bob Marley sang loudly about the
Buffalo Soldier held by a chain,
a reflection of courage,
questioning whether to evolve or remain.
Like the lyrics of Libbe Siffre,
the higher you build your barriers,
the taller I become, this is who I am,
walking among the warriors.
I may have a quiet mind,
but you will never silence my tongue,
there is a snarl in my gentle eyes,
I keep proving bigots wrong.
Keep expressing my flawless scars
through the power of my ink,
softly swaying from page to page,
verses that make the ignorant think.
Brothers and sisters, just pause for a while,
we are not colonized minds,
despite their imperialistic prejudice,
we have to be kind to all kinds.
Trust the process of poetic words
and rediscover love for self belief,
even when they try to burn your pages,
rewrite to release your grief.
In times of oppression,
flow like waves onto pebbled shores,
When are you the happiest?
Tell them when they end their wars!
If weak winds rekindle flashbacks,
when you meet the eye of the storm,
against all forms of adversity,
stand strong in a proudly beautiful form,
so, don't shush me with antagonistic tones,
because my peace comes from within me,
as my pen was born to speak the
truth through powerful poetry.
Malevolent imploded uncontrollably,
twisting wildly maniacal posies
amid diabolically toasted brainstem,
angst uncompromisingly yanked tresses
purging stinging speech patterned rhymes
amuck iniquitous poetic verses hung
upside down to tormentingly dry,
facing other inimically knotted borders of
antagonistic galleries in deranged snapshots
razing warped poetical tapestries,
tripping on tunes of whiskey rushes' savoy truffles
and greenish tangerines whilst Led Zeppelin's
Sick Again danced upon reflective ceiling tiles,
time written sideways 'round alleged autonomy
hidden furthermost immune masked mirror images,
debauching Greek braille calligraphy's vindication
on walls of graffito scripted physicality
calling out 'tween hysterical compulsions,
naught one heeded the sounds of synapses
about ill-fated half moon's arresting arc,
synthetic doomsday's clocks aptly chimed
quarter to analytical cuckoo's nest repudiation,
still awaiting on serendipity to surrender
furthermost rabbit hole's curiouser rants,
relinquishing unwell-languaged compilations' sabotage - -
circumventing rhythmically subversive escaped detonation
Assaulting me! The darkness comes to be
in devil’s guise. Phantom haunts my mind;
in sleep paralysis I cannot flee -
insanity bleeding through ruined rind.
I’m humbled now and at your merciless
whims and words afflicting by your whipping
cruelty I’d endured and what of this -
stranglehold of fear that is so gripping.
The trauma it inflicts does overwhelm
in present as it did in madness past,
as Hypnos slips me blackened nightmare’s realm
my sanity becomes a lone outcast.
Stalking specter and there’s no protections,
I’m the victim with my mind in confines,
house of mirrors broken your reflections;
antagonistic mania still shines.
My life with you; you’re still inside my head,
though self-destruction chose as your fare-well.
Subconsciously you infiltrate with dread
as incubus revenge becomes my Hell.
Susan Ashley
September 23, 2018
*Hypnos: the ancient Greek god of sleep*
You make me want to scream.
You are clouding my brain.
Your hair is thin.
Your back cannot be seen.
Beautiful... loving you is my sin--
Five hours that have been--
So slow, so painful, desert ridden.
You are a permanent stain.
It's not your fault--
That you won't go away
It's not your fault--
That you are clouding my brain.
I still love you.
Every minute without you is pain.
It's only been three days.
I can't stop thinking of you.
You make me want to scream,
Because you are clouding my brain.
Stop playing me like a game--
Before I go insane.
These antagonistic games remain the same.
Must I be strong when you are weak?
If I am not, does this justify your beatings?
It would seem that the clouds would recede.
A smile upon my face all would see.
Volatile I deny.
The antagonistic world is outside.
In a world of iniquity, you are fighting self; therefore, no anti-emotions I let possess.
I just have to take good care of self and I shall receive the victory.
Note my mind is.
Notice my body is not.
Not you nor me can love any harder.
No, I want space.
Know I want you out of my face.
C antankerous and chimerical - comingle with my childlike charms.
A morous and antagonistic - angel wings melt within my arms.
N urturing and nostalgic - as I cradle one's frangible needs.
C aress my curvaceous chasms - when shared confusion slowly bleeds.
E ver evasive, always enticing - my heart may tease you; yet not tempt.
R eminiscent and roseate - dancing with dreams not yet dreamt.
Author's Note:
Cancer - June 29th 19....
Sorry, my computer froze.
When I want
more than I have to offer
the world looks hostile and
dangerously antagonistic.
When I offer
more than I want
the world looks hostile and
dangerously antagonistic.
Somehow the second scenario
feels better to me.
The government and its people stay on antagonistic sides
but what stimulates the rulers’ infidelity to patriotism
can easily be bought by any, over the counter.
They are desperately in need
of sailors to guide through the storm
yet for some reasons,
nurture a belief of so called anointed but empty vessels.
Structural human developments
siphoned by leadership’s exhaust pipes,
desecrating humanity’s sanctuary
for corruption to sell in wholesale.
The public treasury flows down
non-stop even bypassing its bladder,
as materialism and the quest for good life
break all of conscience’s administrative protocols.
Survival instincts undergo inflation
for civilization to suffer a recession
to this end, unity’s objections are overruled
by Nepotism and favouritism.
Social growth is blocked
and always in need of foreign catheter.
A direct current links poverty to the mindset and way of life,
giving a clear evidence of an economy
in desperate need of reconstructive surgery.
Harmonious co-existence vexes as
Ugliness of spirit overrides all sense:
Man, woman, young, old - locked in constant conflict.
Antagonistic leanings destructive, but
Nations are split by doctrine more than terrain;
Isolated, insular and self-serving.
Tempestuous relationships reign supreme;
Yawning chasm between status quo and potence.
Halcyon adventures wait amongst the stars:
Unite, Peoples of Earth... and ascend as one.
Majesty of universe lies before us,
Architects, wholly, of our own destiny.
Negative acts consigned to history books;
Inherent self-destructive urges shunned by
Transcending schisms and grasping conjoined purpose.
Years uncounted may pass, but faith shall be pursed*.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
* pursed = rewarded
11 syllables on every line - checked with howmanysllables.com
14 November 2017 - my first Acrostic poem.
For the "Humanity - Acrostic" contest, sponsored by John Hamilton.
(2nd Place)
Never A Lonesome Dove
I'm so tired and so weary but never a lonesome dove
I've always tried to fit in where ever I visit there of,
On many unknown varsities I'll gloriously be only me
So very humble as if I were only a little bee so happily free
Where ever I hang my baseball cap or even my cowgirl hat, oh as socially as I see
How can some of these people can never go an extra, extra mile being happily?
Why cannot some of these people where I've worked hard all my life
I've always kept a firm resolution, to be happy with whatever I do in strife,
In some increment of devices, some people all keep in an upbeat veiled faces
When all I want is heavenly angels to wear or smile and itialize true traces,
Of no antagonistic histrionics of devious and innovating identities as crisis
I'm only a mere country kind of gal; that has no negative abnormal-analysis,
In many destitute places I do love writing or whatever I do think of
I'm so tired and so weary but never a lonesome, lonesome dove,
I'm so tired and so weary but never a lonesome, lonesome dove
I’m so tired and so weary but never a lonesome, lonesome dove.
Written: Nov. 20, 2014
Yvonne
Silent persistence peeling skin from bone
With undamaged precision
Easing an imperceptible knife into flesh
Exposing a fragile heart
Stripped with naked vulnerability
Surrendering willingly to anaesthetized hands
Craving achingly raw excision
Clouded with hope filled desperation
A lullaby of forged belief
Eyes fixated on the gentle thudding of beating
Echoing from fading warmth between palms
Subconsciously awaiting unavoidable regret
Intensely flaming pain searing through a bruised, empty cavity
Antagonistic fingers familiarly penetrating, ripping apart
A heart eager to love, drenched in gullibility
Opening bleeding wounds along already scarred edges
Leaving torn pieces distraughtly scattered
Bloodied feeling slowly draining
Wisps of past shadowed ghosts
Self-encouraged to plague again
Evaporating out of void eyes
Ravaging reflected destruction
Self condemned through the hands of a mere puppet
Shameful pain piecing brokenness back together
Cradling the fading beauty in shrouds of detestation
Dissipating into silence
Drowning in a symphony of tears
Roaring round roads raucously
Orally overtly offending operators
Acrid antagonistic adjectives aired
Defiantly daring distracted drivers
Ranting raving railing
Aggravate annoy atrocious
Gregarious gone Goebbels
Exacerbate engage enrage
the end I warn you:
catharsis of bad things
that converging in blocks
form an antagonistic empire
your face will show everything
sad frown
but even that won't keep away
the phalanx spears
pointing victorious
for the ride of the hours
unbalancing fate
and paving the path of indifference
of what will survive
I might feel grand
aspiring to omnipotent
omniscience
Whereupon omnipresence
might feel less necessary,
or even possible,
or desirable
In a secularized
reduced
dissociated apartheid,
sacred Us v sinful Them
An omnipotently inflammatory place
for every Other individual thing
and all Other routine
and orthodox Things,
Omnipresent capital events
in anonymously rational
linear
fundamentally dualistic frames
Either sacred Me
or secularized You
will win our antagonistic win/lose
evolving worldview news
Preferably reduced from
supremely anthro-privileged
down deep into
my ego's highest omnipotent potential
best win/win omniscience sacredly encircled
to ubiquitously favor
least global cost
and most localized efficient
ego/eco healthcare
resonant balance
In a way not omnipotently possible
nor omnipresently invited
nor yet omnisciently compassioned
If only we were more adept
at losing win/lose
and playing win/win
Gods and Goddesses,
OmniPresent Icons
OmniPotent Dancers
OmniScient Muses
Inviting sacred Gaian EcoFeminist spaces,
omnisciently omnipotent places,
unconditionally disregarding
LeftBrain Iconic Narks
Phallic Idols,
profit prophets
for Narcissists Unanimous.
Merry Christmas
Shoppers, and
Poor women and poor men
With wallets
And without.
Merry Christmas
Whoever is in his or her little cell,
Little box,
In jail for a day
Or for life
For whatever reason.
Merry Christmas
Merry past Christmas
Merry present Christmas
Merry future Christmas
Without exception,
Segregation,
Or exclusion.
Merry Christmas
Believers
Non-believers
people from
earth,
Mars,
Or another galaxy.
Merry Christmas
new born,
Children,
Orphans,
Children who are left behind,
And future humanity.
Merry Christmas
Street’s poets,
Merry Christmas
Low-wage happy faces,
And the running delivery man.
Merry Christmas
Singles,
Single mothers,
Single fathers,
And lonely adventurer
In the wilderness.
Merry Christmas,
Streets,
Trees,
Lakes,
Mountains
Forests,
And prairies
Of America.
Merry Christmas,
Who is attached to the past
And who is planning for the future.
Merry Christmas soldier.
Merry Christmas soldier.
Merry Christmas soldier.
Merry Christmas
Policeman,
And firefighter.
Merry Christmas
My friends
My street mates
My Café mates, and
My bus mates.
Merry Christmas
The cheerful,
The antagonistic
The angry
The bored
The one who feels it is not worth it
The one who is almost there
The one who can not make it.
The one who will not make it.
Merry Christmas
Who is sleeping,
And who is dreaming,
Who is on the road,
Who is traveling
By
Plane,
Boat,
Car,
Or who is orbiting
Around the planet.
Merry Christmas
Mexicans,
Africans,
Asians,
And the European:
The first who came
And the last who are trying.
Merry Christmas
The lost and found
Merry Christmas Native America.
Merry Christmas Eileen.
Merry Christmas
America.