Best Fear And Loathing Poems
I the empty, I the sleeping ghost,
thorn and chalice, least imbued with most.
Here the desert, hear the tortured wind,
bright with sorrow, lost the spirits pinned.
Then the poison, then the twisted clone,
fierce and timid, fierce to stand alone.
Now the outcome, now the withered truth,
gone the folly, gone the foolish youth.
There the forest, theirs the blackened tree,
deep within, the grief of death’s decree.
You the whirlwind, you the woken ghost,
fear and loathing, lost the dying host.
12th February 2019
When we are born and life begins,
A child is perfect, free from sin.
We stand beneath life’s rising arch,
And grow through fits and halting starts.
As young adults, we race with speed,
Not understanding what we need.
We find first love in our late teens,
Not fully knowing what it means.
We race ahead, not looking back,
While the reaper stays on our track.
Middle age is on its way,
And the reaper never goes away.
And in the waning years of life,
Through all the toil and all the strife,
We start to wonder where life has gone,
And know we are closer to dusk than dawn.
A voice behind becomes more clear
As the reaper’s footsteps draw near.
Fear and loathing fill our thought,
As if we’re racing against the clock.
One day I choose at last to stop,
And slowly turn around and drop.
I see the reaper standing there.
He says, “My friend, I truly care.”
I know he’s here to end my life,
To free me from my pain and strife.
When out of nowhere, an angel appears,
Saying, “Have no fear, my brother, I am here.”
She reaches out and takes my hand,
And pulls me close where now I stand.
The reaper bows his shadowed face,
Then disappears without a trace.
The angel looks at me and says,
“Heaven is yours for endless days.”
The Elephant and Mouse
Way back a long, long time ago, when mouse and ‘phant were new
They thought that their relationship would always ring true blue
But the mouse one day got randy and the elephant was handy
And don’t you know, a rape did soon ensue
Though small, the mouse was mighty, the elephant a wee bit flighty
And when the deed was over, the mouse still felt the same
But the elephant was fearful; felt nothing but the shame
And so you know the two of them then went their separate way
They grew apart in mind and body and thus they are today
And though it’s been 4000 years, the feeling is there yet
For as you know, or so they say, a ‘phant does not forget
And so today an elephant encountering a mouse
Recoils in fear and loathing of the little louse
Mdailey 9/8/12
I The Phoenix
I recall in my youth how the world around me seemed so alive vibrant in color and beauty. As I aged this beauty faded and was replaced with a new world filled with shades of grey. Life rushed by me quickly, I was no longer able to see the beauty around me. The longer I lived in this new world the more my spirit faded.
One day this new world came crashing down around me and I was left alone, abandoned in the streets. Overcome with fear and loathing I wandered aimlessly among the dispirited and walking dead. I survived on the pity and sustenance portioned out to the lost souls.
I found myself pondering my youth as I walked the streets and wondered where that world had gone. My eyes saw things along the sidewalk that inspired my imagination, I kept these as mementos of life lost. These tidbits of refuse I examined and again found vibrant color and beauty. I began to piece these small tokens together and slowly recreated my youthful vision.
Casting aside my thoughts of returning to the life that had drained away my spirit. I became whole again, I now dwell again in those vibrant colors and an abundance of happiness as were in my youth. Society will not number me among it's herded numbers of spiritless victims.
Authors Note:
3 years of homelessness and destitution opened my eyes and reignited my spirit. If you feel you have lost your way, cast off everything and start anew.
Oh hello there! Again!
Aah!
Yes!
You there!
Such lovely young pretty plaything, a female?
I presume?
With the beautiful expensive suit!
I am just seeing you there like a dream of crimson and horror!
Oh sorry!
At my age, your mind starts to wander.
And a Wanderer I am!
A wanderer in pursuit!
Where are you going my dear,
boy or girl I don’t care.
Can I follow you there?
I stay very near?!
Oh don’t mind me, I’m just a wanderer you see!
I am just bringing light to the world
a bringer of light a bearer of sight if you will.
Oh is it?
Is true you just live down the avenue?
I see!
Can I walk with you a little, please?
This is a mighty fine place you have here,
a beautiful quaint little town,
quaint and clear…
all nestled back in the valley.
Hummm!
Yes. Indeed!
No one can hear you screa-rrr-I mean
no one can hear you in a quaint little place!
What is that?
Oh!
Yes! Indeed!
I’m sorry you may be worried
but don’t you fear I’m quite harmless,
don’t you see?
What are you seeing?
Oh, that!
that’s just ravens wings
tucked neatly near a bone-white spine
and onyx claws!
Nothing to see, here…
Oh, my fingers?
Oh so long, sleek sharp like razors
strong to rip you apart.
Sorry sorry, pardon me!
No need to run!
No need to struggle
Daggers slicing your flash!
Oh! I’m sorry did I mean to hurt you!
I am just passing through a wanderer you see.
A light bringer of fire and rage!
On my way to the Detonation Fields
Feeling my way through this blasted world.
Laughing at the powers that be!
Wait for the wormwood to fly…
Oh! Don’t worry about me!
Can’t you see I’m not staying,
just passing through!
I bring you fear and loathing.
But don’t you worry
I am everything!
Everywhere!
I know you are alone
but come closer,
a little closer,
please.
So, I can see you in this empirical twilight.
No need to struggle….
My fingers are strong, indeed…
Tightening, as you struggle to breathe
Can’t you speak?
No, I guess your crimson mouth speaks,
NOT!
Don’t struggle so…
I’m just a wanderer, you know…
I have such sights to show…
So come with me to the Holocaust!
Can you feel the infernos heat…
Hear the damned scream.
Sweet music!
Don’t you hear it too?
OH, sooooo sweet!
Ah YES!
Yes…
indeed.
It scares me at times as I long for the comfort of stability.
I long for an equilibrium of certainty.
I long for the expected unknown of which you can never give me.
What of forever? Will we be intertwined as something beyond what our eyes can see?
What our skin can feel and what our tongue can taste?
But somehow, this emotions within us, conceal every fear and loathing.
It is somehow you and somehow me.
Somewhat meant to be or is it just this moment in reality?
What of the outcome? Will my love for you ever change?
Even through the blood and sweat, will it always be the same?
Through the risk that my mind may get shrouded and unclear, possible as history has shown.
Straying towards the comfortability of this persistent material world.
Its often hard to look beyond something that has been labelled.
To realise that there is no perfect way to be in love.
What we have been taught and what society has condoned are only of the superficial.
The top layer of dust that blinds many from the shiny lustrous world.
The potential within. The treasures of the deep.
As I have looked beyond the metal and scars, reality detoured into a fork in the road.
No matter the past or what future we each hope for, the path I will always choose, heads to you.
Through your disability, I have found my own.
Through your courage to move ahead, I have found bravery to live.
Through your eyes that see perfection in me, I see the exception in you.
Love is only part of this story. Together, we have revised to become anew.
Ionah: first
(Morfil Gwr (Whale man).
Angry winds tore at the sails of the distressed little ship
Waves crashed and harried intent on destruction
Below he hid shaking with fear and loathing
Begging to be cast into the storming broiling waters
To escape the eyes and voice in his head.
Remembering how he stood at the edge of the dock
Watching tides swirl in and out with hypnotic intent
Fear in his mind forcing him to flight
Away he ran trying to feel unnoticed and small
Still he was found no peace for his plight.
Down he sank into the maelstrom deep lives saved
By his supposed good deed mind going blank
Down he went ,down he sank
To the depths he fell cold and black
Welcome death he cried his body slack.
Out of the deep with jaws open wide he came
Great fish of the deep, sifting the sea, Morfil by name
And swallowed the man his grief, anger and all
Shaking with anger tears streaking his face
Admitting defeat asked to be restored to his place.
With a great gush of vomit spewed onto the beach
Found him gasping as air filled his lungs
Grudgingly yet he ventured into the city
Looking at all his eyes full of pity
And they flocked to hear the words that he spoke.
Out to the wastes with anger in his heart
Leaving the people and city behind
Angry with them and the creator
Hiding away like some spoiled child
Under the searing heat of mid day sun.
Yet then the creator saw and loved the man still
Despite his tantrums and anger within
Sent help to feed and shade his head
And still the man asked and wished he was dead
“Why Me” was the song that he continued to sing.
Andrew P McIntyre 2012.
"If the drinks rob her balance from her beautiful feet
there my arms will be outstretched for her to meet
And each season we spend apart from the other
I will think of her always and never another
No matter how I long to see her once more
And talk to her for hours on the second floor
Each moment with her a memory unforgotten
By this mind so twisted by love begotten
Oh, I know well the struggle of love unreturned
Another man she loves, but how to deal I’ve learned
Silence is a price not easily bought in such times
And my feelings are punished as emotional crimes
Never to know if her mind will someday turn
And fear and loathing in my heart do churn
This has caused me trouble in the sleepless nights I hold
But these will deter me when the flames of hell are cold
A girl like this one I have never met before
And I have heavy doubts that this world contains more
No matter the lengths and the pains I must endure
I will wait for her forever, this I know for sure
In my very bones, and no deeper feeling have I felt
In all my failed ventures, as if my heart could melt
Such a condition is so difficult to explain
But it lies in everything she does contain
Her smile that lights the darkest hour
Her voice that raises me from days so dour
Her eyes that sparkle in so unique a way
And her hair that cascades as the falls by the bay
Her every aspect enchants me wholly
And so I devote myself unto her fully
I desire no other for no other would I need
the pursuit of someone else no longer taking seed
I know that she doesn’t love this face
And I ask not for it at such a pace
But rather the chance for my value to be weighed
And if this is too much to ask then I shall fade
Into the mists of this rainy Cleveland night
Knowing in my heart that my love was right
Even if I must be a friend for always after
My love will still echo in the sounds of our laughter”
I knew not what to say to man who loved so fiercely
But I took his words for gospel before his gaze could pierce me
And so I saw his oath made on the evening cold and wet
Not a word from his mouth that night do I forget
From then on he strove with every ounce of his soul
To do everything in his power to achieve his goal
Lyla Dawson, stunning smart and loved by all
But never have I thought she heard my poor friend’s call
Bursts of laughter and splashes of colour
Sounds of hilarity and tales of adventure
Sparkles of light and folklore dancing
Merriment dominates the order of things
Hark to the woeful, hear not sad cries
For tonight is the night the faeries unite
Capricious beings in evolving couture
Smiling and playing, the laughter just hear!
Assimilation of races, all kinds of faces,
Confined in just these small little spaces
Look here. look there and harmony you will find
Conviviality combined with reminiscinces abind
T'was not fear and loathing that caught my eye
But laughter and sunshine on that starry night
What is it about dread that controls us? The mixture of fear and loathing that
consumes the contents of an empty bottle, longing for concentration and proof.
Do we confuse the child within with the promise of loving past? To be trapped in
the closet crying insinuates passion that is manifested through burden of truth.
Fallen is the plight of earthbound angels with clipped wings of faith. Paralysis
inhibits the quest of sequestered fanaticism and belief. Eaten by earthly gilded
belief. Why does the clock taunt the merciful memories of divine imagery? Why
must that price be paid to know isolation? From birth the struggle defines and
outlines the matrix of conflicting souls. The constant crash and collision of
innocence tainted by truth. This feeling is certain and intoxicating. No truth could
be truer. No faith could be more devout. The absolution of death disembowels
the continuance of self-repair. Does the collar impair judgment or empower
concentration? Can the songs of holy impunity comfort like the caress of a
mother? Will the tears drown unselfish giving?
The answer is simple.
The journey is hard.
The gift is reverence.
Light, when will I learn the lesson?
Fear of the Outsider, the interloper, the alien
Is as old as humanity itself.
Xenophobia doesn’t just apply to someone foreign
And “not like us”,
It applies to anyone who may threaten
Our way of life, the status quo, the norm
And way “it’s always been.”
From local bar to climbing crag, surfing beach,
Ghetto corner, and Union shop floor,
The locals, sometimes multigenerational deep,
Tend to claim their turf
With the worst of human qualities;
Fear and loathing
Sublimated into snide ostracism,
Backstabbing gossip and withering looks
If not fully expressed with seething hate
Slander, bullying and assault.
Meanwhile life goes on for the Xeno
Head down, eyes averted, pathways diverted,
While in their heart
They recognize the love their haters have
For their cherished way of life and ground
Is not exclusive
And no different from their own.
(9/6/25)
THE STORMY DAY
Awoken by
Rumbling in the
Deep distance
Shallow waters subside and
Gliding across white wakes
Makes for the sanctuary,
A distant glimmer in the
Heart of the storm bird.
Building and gathering,
The mind on the shore
Busies itself and
Attempt numerous things
Without success.
The dark brooding hood
Brings fear and loathing
As struggling winds gather
To take the solitary man
Out to water.
What is he doing?
The rumblings fade
As silent glistening eyes
Peer out across the clear horizon.
Tears fall from a cluttered sky,
Having raised up
From this great lively mass.
Endless minute movements
Slowly carry the man
Out to sea.
Tossing mints in a t-rex mouth,
his calamitous breath smells good,
as the terrible lizard rolls you South,
delighting in his wintergreen food.
Thankfully this monstrosity of a sweet-tooth Rex
rejects his diet of flesh and menthol as vomitus.
Relating voluminously to Jonah - you’re a wreck.
You slide off the belching tongue in slovenly gravitas.
You run as his roar, like a refreshing wind,
scores its daily fear and loathing.
This close encounter with your courage thinned,
avoiding an impression without a stitch of clothing.
3/15/2019
A TV. Star.
The man hiding in the light his persona, sparkling
sunglasses not enough when we gloried in his
mesmerizing peculiarity. We saw not the sinister
black shadows behind him… except, from time to
time we felt revulsion a glint in his eyes and shark
teeth that told of what we didn’t want to know.
He died a much loved hero, the abused stayed silent.
Now the dark hideous nature of the man is for all to
see; and must bring shame of those who knew but
for the sake of his fame never spoke out. Pedophiliac,
the seducer of children, his clunking gold chains we
followed, to the tune of greed into the dark abyss of
fear and loathing.
Tunneling deep into the eyes of one another
A channeling of a mutual respect and despotic hatred
High above nearly visible a clash between the two
Exploding in a power of light as the two blades clash
Blood dripping and falling to the ground far below
An exchange of life giving from ones dissolution
Great deafening claps as the struggle escalates in brutality
Allowing sight only for a moment as the blades counter
Over and over looking for the weakness in fleshed instinct
The shroud growing darker and boiling over in intensity
Meek cowering below searching for cover in the satirical shower
The earth tearing and swallowing in on itself
Colliding titans high above dancing the rhythmic rituals
Displaying their prowess akin to a lioness stalking
Through the pain they persevere…determined…undaunted
The sinewy arms cumbrous with fear and loathing
Swinging with an almost disporting will to butcher
Slowing to a laggards pace…breathe a heavy coarse wind
This melodic storm ravaging horizon to mountain
Steady, clockwork, weighted, understanding
As the two stop, allowing a brightening to spread
Regarding with that respect and tyrannical equality
They release one another to heal and recover
Rallying oneself for another engagement at Asgard.