Best Goads Poems
Knowledge gained liberates or mutilates.
Ramifications of reality’s realm reached
make your insides want to abandon the body ship.
Rocking back and forth as you hurl dry acidic pain
expelled by the force of shell shocked lucidity:
You’re not good enough to be loved.
Breathing in is treason.
Your heart demands release of life’s lease.
On the kitchen floor
crumpled dreams drag to prostrate form.
Alone…..
Every reason to stay is obliterated.
Ascorbic failures scream.
Heart blood transforms to salty rivulets.
Self-loathing usurps the throne of belief.
"Appeasement sacrifice,” it sagely suggests…
"Your life!"
Relevant Reasoning...
For someone for whom love is cell oxygen
grey matter food
supreme soul sustenance,
life without full bodied Love is death.
Might as well...
Cowardice cackles and goads….
The cut isn’t deep enough.
Red streaked line mockery of mental hell feels
abhorrence breathing between the sobs
that one hears …
No one hears
Troubled mind has drained desirability’s delight.
Not strong enough to live not strong enough to die,
you are spent…
negligence purged.
Silence begs to benumb,
yet a reminder remains.
The thorn of truth finds a home.
Embedded in my side,
it won’t be denied.
Removal immuned
it is unseen by naked eye-
exposed to the naked heart.
With every movement of love making
matrimonial mattress yet exudes
the faint scent of virginal dreams...
Pain permeates
It digs in deep.
Nothing will change.
YOU cannot change.
You are unlovable.
You're troubled and troubling brain
takes beauty down to notch of insane.
Give it all away.
Lavish and ravish.
Obsessively bid for love
while you auction respect away,
but herein is the cursed truth:
You are not good enough to be loved.
You never were.
You never will be.
For Charlotte's Heart and Soul Contest
September 2, 2014
Categories:
goads, pain,
Form:
Free verse
lightsabers slash skies
cold front goads humidity —
the black night bleeds rain
Categories:
goads, nature, night, rain, storm,
Form:
Tristich
Immortal waves of time,
Clamour on the sea of life,
They crash down on the crags of flesh
And wear them to the grains.
The cells, the salted dust,
The sand beneath the hooves,
The iron feet of giants
Severed down to vanished forms.
Gulls of storm-head black,
Eyes of granite beads,
And beaks derived of bone-yards
House their aspic sodden tongues.
Cries that ram the caves
Vibrating screeching goads the dark,
Receding as the dying light
In seconds after life.
Categories:
goads, death, life,
Form:
Verse
True, Moses wrote of righteousness, one based upon the law.
But Paul proffered an alternate, eschewed the tragic flaw.
Salvation based on works alone: a concept misapplied.
For all, not most, have fallen short; to live thus was to die.
The argument that he put forth: the wage of sin is death.
The proof that all have fallen short: each takes a final breath.
The second Adam changed it all, met on Damascus Road,
His work, reduced to rubbish, trash, and kicks against the goads.
A righteousness that's based on faith asks not who will ascend;
See, Christ has come down to the world, and faith thus comprehends.
And neither does a right faith seek descent to the abyss,
For Christ has risen from the dead, a point some seem to miss.
A right faith knows the word is near, there in your mouth and heart,
Components of a saving grace, the twain shall never part.
For if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is the LORD,
Your heart believes God raised him up, salvation, faith's accord.
For heart's belief is justified, and mouth's confession saved,
And all those who believe in Him are thus no more enslaved.
For there is no distinction now between the Jew or Greek,
For the same Lord is Lord of all, shows grace to all who seek.
But how then will they call on Him in whom they've not believed?
And how shall they believe in Him, when ears have not received?
And how are they supposed to hear, unless someone will preach?
And how are they to preach the word unless they're sent to each?
How beautiful, the feet of those delivering good news!
Not all obey what they have heard, Isaiah thus once mused.
"Lord, who believed what he has heard from us?" the prophet said.
But faith comes through the word of Christ, its hearing raises dead.
Now faith by works indeed is true, a point I must not shirk,
But only faith that's placed in Him, rests in His finished work.
(from Romans 10)
Categories:
goads, christian, faith,
Form:
Rhyme
Love lusts,
Hate hurts,
God goads,
Devil dares,
Death dumps,
Life longs,
Hope holds,
Soul survives,
Faith fools,
Religion rants,
Priest panders,
Politics preys,
Public pays,
knowledge knows,
Wisdom wins,
Science sums,
Time tempers,
Patience prevails,
Marriage mars,
Wife whines,
Husband hustles,
Sex sells,
Cash corrupts,
War wrecks,
Peace pleases,
Work works,
Rest rusts,
Spring soothes,
Monsoon moans,
Summer sizzles,
Autumn ails,
Winter woes,
Nature nurtures!
Categories:
goads, on writing and words,
Form:
Free verse
I hate myself.
I hate myself to the extent where I avoid looking in mirrors,
In fear of the ugly monster that's hiding behind it.
The deformed smile that dares to even grow over its face,
Even though it knows it doesnt deserve it.
The lies of happiness that it goads me into believing,
Only to lure me into a trap that I knew waited at the end of the road.
A pit filled with the unbeckoned rage,
That hides behind that disgusting tilt of the lips.
I hate myself so much that I welcome the imperfections that it graces my skin with.
I hope that one day I’ll return home painted in blacks and blues,
That will eventually fade to ugly yellows and greens.
I welcome the copper that overflows on my skin,
Bright like the steel that it told me to draw with.
But no matter how many times it tells me to do it again,
To cover my canvas of imperfect skin with my beautiful artwork of reds and pinks,
The blemishes and extra folds that I desperately tuck away never leave.
I hate myself enough that I weep with joy when it pulls me into a cold embrace,
Fingers ghosting my eyelids and pulling me back,
Blinding me so I can’t see the way it destroys me.
It intrudes and violates my every pore,
Sinking into me and flooding my senses,
Making it hard to breathe in anything but the vile stench of bitter disgust.
All the repulsive and sickening marks and extra space,
Only intersinfy as it deepens.
And so now I don't just hate myself, I hate It too.
When I look in the mirror it doesn't stare back at me like it once did,
Instead it’s vulgar form looms large behind me,
Draping itself over me like an unwanted blanket on a blistering day.
It directs the madness,
Feeding off of my starved need to be rid of it,
That violently clashed with my desperation for it to stay.
Its want for my pain only grew alongside mine,
And I found solace in its hunger.
Categories:
goads, abuse, anger, angst, depression,
Form:
Free verse
She lingers waiting for me to make a mistake.
I feel her, sneering at me, ready to pounce.
Unsure how she originated, but I keep her masked.
Cover her up with a brilliant smile,
Being Robin William funny, so no one knows
Except me….
She goads me with pokes and prods
Trying to get me morose and sad.
I am aware of her power
I dare not give in to her.
She can take me down harder than a Mack Truck
Categories:
goads, depression,
Form:
Personification
I see you there, lurking in the shadows of deceit.
You rear your ancient head to strike and oh your prey tastes sweet.
Demonic grin, the damage done, your poison pulses hot.
Hell bent on our destruction, your vengeance waning not.
Your venom goads in cycles, each day another round.
One to soar us way up high, then one to bring us down.
Down so hard, we're in a fog when time to go to work.
so just a little stimulant to get us going first.
Lured behind the wheel. "Come on, let's roll the dice".
Believing we're OK, tho we could take another's life.
Yes, I see you there lurking in the shadows of deceit;
vile demon with each sunrise, the addict must defeat.
Categories:
goads, addiction,
Form:
Rhyme
In economy led of beastly mind,
Upon a political serpentine.
All strives of wickedness kicks,
Against the fleece of Love’s Pricks(goads).
As true sheep trod, before their God’s, INClINE(will).
For Contest: Follower or Leader
In Honor of: Carolyn Devonshire
Placed #3
Categories:
goads, allegory
Form:
Limerick
“You stiff-necked people, with uncircumcised hearts and ears! You are just like your fathers: You always resist the Holy Spirit! Was there ever a prophet your fathers did not persecute? They even killed those who predicted the coming of the Righteous One. And now you have betrayed and murdered him— you who have received the law that was put into effect through angels but have not obeyed it.”
Acts 7:51-53
All who were sitting in the Sanhedrin looked intently at Stephen, and they saw that his face was like the face of an angel.
Acts 6:15
THE STONING OF STEPHEN
Before Stephen fell asleep, he gave a sermon.
It culminated into a bold accusation t’wards the leaders.
The Sanhedrin, with the high priest, would determine
The fate of this angel-face. They were breeders
Of contempt, accusing God’s man of blasphemy.
They were teeth-gnashers, stuffing their ears with glue,
indignant, jealous, furious. They would rob Stephen’s vitality.
This follower of Jesus is never alone, heaven’s in view:
“Look,” he said, “I see heaven open
and the Son of Man standing
at the right hand of God.”*
Clasping their ears, they rushed at him,
Yelling in full view of the glory of God, not
Seeing nor hearing, choosing their dim
View of life. It was evil they sought.
They snatched him, dragged him out of the city.
Were those chosen stones unearthed from hell?
Upon a saint of God, they took no pity.
They were underneath Satan’s spell.
This favored of God, they could not ignore.
A Sanhedrin bull in full vent with dust and smoke.
Truth will shake powerful men to the core.
Arms and legs like chariot spokes,
The high-horse pretenders lambast
the great orator with great force.
Stephen would soon meet the holy cast
Of forefathers…most importantly life’s source.
Another man is enthralled, also blind
To the goads he’s kicking at. He’s in his heyday,
a young man giving approval to death, the kind
of man Stephen prayed for in this way:
“Lord, do not hold this sin against them.”*
8/8/2021
*Acts (from the Bible)
Categories:
goads, christian, murder,
Form:
Quatrain
Excellence of spirit begets
Excellence of mind.
Innate in some it resides
Others strive to imbibe.
Climbing a mountain requires
Skills commensurate with the task.
Energy sapped, discomfort induced
Food eaten, transforms to vapour.
Friends abandoned below
For the joy of mentors above.
Looking not below still
Focus placed above ever.
To the uninformed observers
Such unpardonable self-hate.
Yet the ascension unabated
Leads to a glorious beginning.
Exhilaration marks the arrival,
The arrival goads inspiration,
Inspiration steers to fulfillment,
Welcome to the centre of excellence!
Peter Edoziem
Categories:
goads, faith,
Form:
Light Verse
His very name brings about a smile on the lips
Of those who just remember him even casually
He uses his exceptional charm so captivatingly
That has mesmerised human mind everlastingly.
His very life, is a series of events, extraordinary
Would have certainly crushed any man ordinary
But then He is a divine being out of the ordinary
He descends from his abode to uplift the ordinary.
He advises to face the vicissitudes of life boldly
And not get dispirited by events that are prickly
For nothing either good or bad linger constantly
That is the gist of life which he tells so eloquently.
He charms one and all, the challengers including
He invigorates by his uplifting touch, everything
And goads men to act all the time with no idling
For a righteous cause, that demands, upholding.
He is a friend, philosopher and guide to all beings
Who but seek his divine intervention in their lives
He is a companion superlative who cares lovingly
For all, who solicit his intermediation passionately.
Categories:
goads, character, friend, god, mentor,
Form:
Light Verse
I sit under that banyan tree
The same one we met under once
We were in our own world
Despite the blazing guns
The winds caressed your cheeks
The birds sang paying homage to your beauty
Your hair in which I founded my entire world
Made you look so pretty
Despite being a strapping lad of twenty and some
I was giggly like a preteen child
Even the tiny smile that crossed your lips
Literally drove me wild
The days I spent under that tree
Oh! The poems I penned there
As tribute to the love I felt
I saw love everywhere
The crazy part of all this
Was I never missed you in your absence
You were all around me, always
Hey! Does any of this make any sense?
I saw you everywhere I looked
Your thoughts I grabbed with all my strength
Then I felt my grip starting to loosen
A void deep growing through my entire length
I float out of my reverie
With mud clutched in my fists
Someone goads me to drop it on your face
Pretty beneath the mist
Rolling clouds of lost years, broken memories,
Unconnected lines of a sang song
Come together as a random novel
About your life that wasn't long
I step back and start to laugh
Hysterical being a tad understated
I dance to your release from this terrible world
I dance till I fall satiated
Pick me up, God, I demand
After all it's you who brought me to my one good knee
Pick me up to push me down again
Isn't this what you want to see
Fast forward a few years and I'm still here
Under our banyan tree
Counting grains of sand as they fell on your face
As in your grave they laid thee
Where's the wind that once sang songs of love
And the blue skies to eternity
I lost love, I lost you, but I gained
Freedom from sanity
Categories:
goads, loss, lost love,
Form:
Free verse
The curious neighbor always looks over the fence;
Enough cause to bewilder me, and I spend a thousand in defense.
But he is his lady's man, she goads him into tussle
With teeth and nails, putting up sails on his flexing muscle.
First he boos as he hoists a hot scarlet banner
And calls me a no-see-um in a bawdy manner;
In vortex of rage, a cat out of cage I do take the plunge
Heartbeat raised, lipids crazed to knock this fallacious grunge;
I want to eviscerate his obnoxious bowels,
In the process I trample on the moss losing all my vowels.
Here the game is over and I have got the prize
Now on there's nobody around me, and a tail to tantalize.
Eight word challenge-7 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John Hamilton
28th June, 2018
Categories:
goads, fun,
Form:
Rhyme
I've had enough of the usless drivel, hypersenitivity and endless snivels
We're more fulfilled I hear so often, yet the fruit on show to me seems rotten!
A girl of 9 cut down by a gun, floods of drugs; engineered and spun..'
Borderless war, we're doing well.' No father's for many; childhoods of hell.)
Mothers are sidlined, (the state is all) whatever's dictated now thats the call.'
Dress like a mummy.' Would that be safest? I'm not surprised lifes devestated.'
I'm writing now not as I would.' Joy is proscribed fewer smiles in the hood.'
It is a challenge, just holding your nerve, anti-sense; the current trend and verve.'
Why not slash your throat, and drink, to health.? Calling it, as sense by stealth?
The reason most aren't 'satisfied', no matter the volumes of goods and pride.'
The word and act, ( are of satan derived ) you feed the beast, it eats you inside
And spills it's driven reasonless; cargo, deflating human worth, from each get-go.'
It's all community and culture I hear, while unity is shattered and nations fear.'
Is fear a commodity? Despair a road? Seems so from watching the waiting goads
The social whip, the endless quips, deriding stability as a worm in wood slips'
I say culture, centuries old; should be valued, not cheapened; diluted sold.'
All the the while, bellowing loud, that cultures multi, can unite the crowds.'
It's such non-sense, as we all know.) Yet showman and women just go and go.'
The tanks half empty, it's the theme that's chosen; to chill our blood, reality frozen.'
Categories:
goads, abuse, allegory, anger, community,
Form:
Rhyme