Best Cauterize Poems
Love glows within the heart and soul of Man,
yet insecurities shadow its glow.
And in shadow, hate and bigotry grow,
though our conscience interjects when it can.
But, like a child, Man fears the bogeyman,
facing repercussions, He lets Hope go.
Scared of storms, Man finds faith in a rainbow,
convincing himself it's part of God's plan.
When evil overshadows all that's good,
anonymity merges with the dark.
And promoting lies, tethered to rumors,
Man follows orders, as a robot would.
Yet, the love in Man only needs a spark
to cauterize hate's cancerous tumors.
- Do not let the behavior of others destroy your inner peace -
- Dalai Lama
Winters storms have settled
The coat was worn but warm
Right here
in the song of my heart
with complete zen
An unadorned splendour
green hills and blue ocean
Pure,vast and wonderfully adorned
A fusion where the absolute occurs
cauterize your deep wounds
Transparent truth
not a phenomenon
Find the stillness within
the essence of life
Take the skin off my back turn me into a rug
Treat me as everybody else, something to walk over
Tell me i am important and original to get what you want
Tear the teeth from my skull, cauterize my gums together
Nothing I say every seem important anyway
Sew my hands and feet together so you know I will never be able to run away
When you have finished saw my head off and mount it on the wall
If you have company over just cover my face so I will not be able to shame you
Just make sure nobody enters your closet space, for that is where you left my corps to rot
Leaving me to fester slowly away to join the skeletons in your bedroom
Looking back, one thing comes clean-glass clear
you were always there for me subduing every fear.
I tried to do my duty, be a husband strong and steady
but you came through when I was only half ready.
So oft you had to be not just a mom but a dad too.
It wounds me to confesss it but we both know it’s true.
Memories of sworn promises to you I didn’t keep
cauterize my conscience and cost me peaceful sleep.
Yes, dear, you were always there for me
seasons in and seasons out.
Thus you immeasurably blessed my life
of that there can be no doubt.
I like to think I repaid you at least a loving little.
If not, I pray God grant me mercy and an acquittal.
How lovely, isn't
It, to have an 'off' switch, shotty wiring
And all,
And a presence lined up to ****?
They are always there
To cauterize the wounds of emotional castration
Without desire to examine
The blood pattern forensics,
Chalking the splatter up
To an affinity towards Jackson Polluck.
Tears are to the meek
As injury is to the bold,
Chastity is to pureness
As promiscuity is to curiosity.
And what
Supplemented activity relates to the character
Defect of an over-eager search for validation?
How surreal a menagerie constructed from
Syringes full of sunshine.
Currency crusted by blood in place of worth,
Hopeful scribbles of the pale and placid carrying
Small flecks of over packed bags under the eye
Can seem when sunlight filters through rose colored lenses;
How frighteningly apparent
Connect-the-dot freckles and
Spasms of the left cheek and
Teddy bear smiles and
Xylophone ribs and
Bits of skin ghosted from lips become
When refracted by a Narcissus pond—
How I m p o r t a n t,
How appropriate these sentiments:
Perfect companions for the rolled-up-carpet's journey
Of finding permanence along river bottom
Set into the silt and framed with waving algae:
A'voir, piggyback consistencies,
Meet oblivion in shreds
Blown out the back end of the skull
In the instant chapped lip worshiper meets collarbone shrine.
Such ready to leech services are no longer
A necessity
In the four hours of chemically enhanced rawness
Stuffed with bile and bruise and suck and lie
Hollowed of meaning,
Save for the proverbial cholesterol of hope clogged in pores.
But I awake in numbness,
Cold and invalid,
With my head pressed on Doubt's chest
And my fingers knotting in its own
Begging to be warm again.
No torrid steel rod will cauterize my wounds
I cannot lick these festering gashes clean
Your sharp-bladed tongue has bitten deeply
fangs plunged with each vile cursed scene
No mere prick or scratch did you inflict
as thorns draw drops from a finger laid bare
You severed our dangling cord with a stare
Without gauntlet thrown before you swayed
I was waylaid in the pitfall of vows betrayed
I sat weeping upon moistened ground
faintly hearing your snarling sound
a vile bitterness in your laughter as I stir
If you have a conscience, I shall be its burr
You turned your back and ran away
Now that your cruelty has been done
but there is no victory to be claimed by you
for there is nothing you have won
How often you preyed on others
while you played at being sanctimonious
Liquid courage brings death that smothers
I escaped the hold you once held
before my life was snuffed and felled
I still breathe and I've no fear to speak
It's you who proved to be weak
My tongue holds daggers of its own
whetted on the grindstone of deception
I was hungry for strength, parched with thirst
to take vengeance as my anger grew
Getting even was long past due
But hurting you would label me evil
That's the last thing I ever desire to be
Vengeance will never be mine to take
and accepting that has set me free
Years will pass but I'll never forget
that I once loved you, yet I sorely regret
not realizing the kind of person you are
I've moved on and no longer grieve
while you still swim in the deep dark waters
of your besotted world of make believe
SHOCKING!!!!!!!! WHAT? THAT?
Bad taste?
They know not what is at stake
They do as they please
Then later beg for forgiveness
A right sin
And a dismal business
Nothing is shocking anymore
To thump each other
They go to the extremes of bad taste
The exotic of the past
Is now the mundane of today
To push the boundaries of rascality
Is the new wanton game
Played by trouble makers galore
To shock is to liven up
What a rebellious few
Think is dreary and staid
But is the result of good taste?
Actions we take now do tell
A story to our future
What of our legacy?
Will our avant-garde seem
Nothing but a real shame?
Critics slam with hyperbolic feelings
Prolonging a naturally temporary phase
The rebellion against the norm
Is but a turbulent teenage phase
Desperation for fame
Pushes the tactless
To seek increasingly embarrassing ways
To force our senses to
Confront what is best left private
Books
Art
The stage
All are infiltrated by the listless crew
Who seem hell-bent on defacing decency
Nudity
Crassness
Debauchery
Bad talent
No longer have critics powerful enough to
Cauterize such abject mood swings
Of artiste who feel no shame
Extending the boundaries
Of moral inhibition is not new
Those that claim to be even more shocking
Know not the history of petty rebellion
They are just another transient few
Decency has lost its unsung heroes
Who slash canvasses
And cover up the detritus of artistic license
Those who oppose any act
That does make us think
Examine or
Analyse our existence in new ways
Are deemed too sensitive for modern life
They are accused of bleaching creativity
To be a rogue is best
To impose any limits seems
To rascals as wilful distress but
Trendsetters don’t often know best
To soothe the cornered inferno
Consuming a sanctuary abandoned
Spider's silk like snow kissed ground
Walls caressed by a nurturing moss,
A mausoleum of birth
The detached ruins we carry
A firefighter's hose spouts curses
To cauterize a ghastly flame
The fire fights itself separately
So the lever pullers on the dispatch
Call into the ears of a healer
To douse themselves in gasoline
There is no pain, for in
Recognition there is warmth
The exiles of the charred asylum
Need something true to human heart
An acknowledgment of all their parts
Lurid looks have been thrown at me
Deadly daggers sent to pierce my heart
Why do some insist on acting beastly
waging war in attempts to tear me apart?
How long can I go on pretending I'm not in pain
hiding my tears by calling them emotional rain?
I need compassion but I'm afraid to ask
so, I conceal my trauma behind a face mask
There's an art that some have honed,
weapons sharpened to break my bones
Not the kind of childish chiding of 'sticks and stones,'
but those spoken with bitterness and taunting
The kind that fires torpedoes from torrid tongues
flaunting their ire and desire to wound me in a fight
with words that shatter like shrapnel in flight
A flame throwing pen, firing splotches of ink
to pierce my skin, tattooing me with their brand
Mark me as 'prey,' shooting as if in reprimand
Just enough to keep me flinching... not quite dead
They laugh it off, calling it 'friendly fire'
No excuse accepted from those who conspire
No burning steel rod can cauterize my wounds
I cannot anesthetize the festering gashes
A sharp-bladed tongue bites much too deep,
making my blood flow in repeated clashes
No mere prick or scratch do they inflict
as thorns draw drops from a finger opened bare...
foul words end relationships with a bullet's nick
I still breathe and I've no fear to speak
I've been set free, and no longer weak
My tongue holds daggers of its own
and it's been whetted on a grindstone
I hungered for strength and parched with thirst
to take vengeance as my anger grew
Emotions boiled that were long past due
but felling them would label me a wrong doer
which is something I never want to be
Vengeance will never be mine to take
realizing that is what set me free
Emotionally, I was a casualty, a tragic story
about pens and mouths becoming an allegory
Symbols used as extended metaphors
But why is it I was being targeted in wars
by Gollums and Freddies, and evil Chuckies?
Shrapnel lodged in the heart leaves jagged scars
This fool doth not consider himself wise,
writing paltry poetry difficult
to read and/or actualize
methinks perusers of great literature
snub nose how I miserably advertise,
laughable attempt to aerobicise
fifty plus shades of gray matter
lobbying showy words agonize
zing effort perhaps best to cauterize
near petrified glob - boon
for scientists to analyze
baffling laboratory technicians
unusual crenulations
a profound surprise
pitiful peremptorily doth apologize
unlike verbalization feasible
after webbed whirled fist size
terra incognita reveals numbskull years
wrought yours truly to anesthetize
smelting, squelching,
and suppressing emotions
scored how tree rings annualize
environmental conditions definite
premature imp of the pervert
poe fella lifetime channels,
where bullies did antagonize
upon death requested autopsy authorize
zing eager scalpels to apprize
miniature dried river bed
formerly streams of consciousness
lake never seen before engendering
crowdsource to hypothesize
baffling every expert,
how terrible fate did baptize
ala lemony snicket series
of unfortunate events
multiplied power bajillion times
number only Google could surmise
obvious tell tale signs did brutalize
as if smacked upside the head
one unfortunate gladly apparently
suffered maelstroms of armageddon size
poet chars evidently
succeeded to burglarize
more successful than Watergate
psychological ploys hackers
noninvasively did cannibalize
(perhaps bored furloughed
government employees)
albeit noninvasively deeming
imposible to canonize
resultant cerebral corpus
understandably did capsize
entire body politik (Democrat)
faced, booked on hatred did demonize
verbal assaults indicate
suffering did caramelize
cerebrum, cerebellum and brainstem
resembling burnt offering
impossible to categorize
glommed hardened integument colleagues
hard pressed to characterize
highly rendered anomaly,
hence unfair to criticize
erratic schizoid personality disorder
quite evident amyloid plaques
did significantly crystalize
definitely explain aberrant quirks
resultant incessant emasculation
unquestionably led him to demoralize.
Save me from this charged mound,
swirling in mundane cynicism's break
where styrofoam vultures circle overhead
and snap their beaks with convoluted grace.
Pull my flesh back,
and cauterize my need to wonder;
I know there's nothing out there anyway-
except the swallow of disenfranchised freedom
and innovated misunderstandings.
Replace these organs with the silt of
a sleepy eyed river,
so when it all finally flows
you can feel me between your toes.
Where you always wanted your
lover to make his bed.
-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.
Love with all my heart
every nuance I have left
'till it stops working
Love with all my heart
broken echoes of lost time
to be upon us
Love with all my heart
half within myself remains
cauterize blood drips
Love with all my heart
and in death I shall forget
to awake your eyes
I've built with sand.
I've made a life without a proper plan,
and you kicked before I hardened it.
How do I supply demand?
A ship unmanned.
This is the moment that I sank within.
It's when my life became your operand.
Your addition for a firing pin.
I caught my hand.
It was inching towards a perfect plan,
and everything I touched became broken,
for it wasn't my command.
You've played harvest,
in which my heart became the olive pit,
your unwanted seed, without great promise,
a flaw in the shell that houses it.
All of my emptiness,
began to cauterize my synapses,
while making room with lack of militance,
a jail for dreams in piled ashes.
But I exist.
It bled my soul out but I've made your list,
and I'm the victim of your ignorance,
the example for a catalyst.
I'm not to guess.
I've taken strides to curb incompetence,
and with this fire, I can't stop to test,
my life for all your fingerprints.
Thought the War was Over
By Franklin Price
10/17/2015
Thought the war was over
When I returned from Cam Ranh Bay
Skin cancer popped it's ugly head
And still is in the way
Getting a little tired of
Having all the fun
Burning, freezing, cutting
Since one nine seven one
Freezing liquid nitrogen
Pre-cancers it will treat
Biopsies when suspicious
So the cancers we can beat
When they return as positive
Which happens more and more
The doctor does his duty
To keep the current score
Sometimes a scrape and cauterize
Could be a cut and stitch
Recovery obnoxious
I am kidding it's a *****
So far my score's phenomenal
All positive for me
Still zero for the cancer
That's what I like to see
My life's worth all the trouble
I enjoy it oh so much
Thought that I would share with you
To try to stay in touch
I hope your life's as good as mine
That what you're going through
Results in continued good life
The alternative is not for you
Don't feel sorry for me
I'm still happy as can be
Grateful for everything I have
Hope the same to you from me
I may love you, once love is all I have;
someday, with tears I'll wash away your grave:
till then I curse you since you died at last,
leaving me broke, alone, going nowhere fast.
Despite young Cupid, I won't bring you flowers;
or bathe you in dripping-wet, sparkling showers
of worship; or grant you the gold of chaise,
that gilts your summit-peaking thrones of maize.
Instead, I'll bring you a wreathe of barbed wires;
flame it! like a thousand nuclear pyres;
hang it upon your cruel member, like so!
And watch it burn, then cauterize, it slow.
Selfish Lover! You stole from me life's measure
of passion and unfathomable pleasure.
For that, therefore, I've the evil delight,
knowing your digit stands no more upright!