Best No Rest For The Wicked Poems
Silent in the darkness of each breath..inhaling this air we feed to the lungs within the beast of our inner torment, Ever cautious ever alert our presence creeps across the meadow as the mist protrudes from around us.. If only this demon could be sworn off, killed and defeated, left and feeling nothing to suffer in its own mindlessness, Yet we stand as it rips, tears and grows within us.. Changing our souls for everything it was once worth to something it turns into pure hate in a nightmare of a world, If we can't be ourselves...Then who can we truly be, We walk a fine line as the edge slips away from us we stumble to find ourselves within fighting off this beast...nothing we can do....nothing anyone can do...less we kill off the demon with the blade of our pure selves ripping its heart out and feeding it to our gorge of an abyss, If we can't be ourselves..then why try to be anything at all....haha..you will never be anything of any worth till you fend off the one thing that binds you to your own hate..your anger merely feeds it giving it strength as it grows within you, Stay strong and make the demon bleed...there's no rest for the wicked things that linger in your lives.
He walked through the misty fog,
as day gave way to night.
The hinges rattled on the graveyard gate,
The sign for the dead to be alive.
The howls of the un-forgiven,
were secreted within the wind.
No rest for the wicked,
No rest for those who had sinned.
The flesh hung off his creaky bones,
giving off an odious smell.
Disowned by Satan himself,
Turned away from the gates of Hell
Doomed to exist in torment,
until the end of time.
What fate awaits the living is unknown
until comes the time for them to die.
Its every person for himself, step on & step up kind of world.
That is what we are are taught, at the thought our lips become curled.
At first until it hurts, until we see that there is no remorse for the weak.
The concept grows stronger with every lash on the cheek.
Burning through our veins as we feel it seep.
Silence is golden, like syrup bitter sweet.
Survival of the fittest its you or its me.These are the values we to begin to teach.
We throw our morals & standards so far beyond our reach.
No thank you my humanity and my sanity that goes along with all of it i would like to keep.
Climbing up the ladder, stepping on those i used to dream with, nah.... that price seems a little steep
No rest for the wicked, shutting your eyes the guilt begins to creep.
I would rather rest my head, gaily counting little baked sheep.
I will keep spreading the love , i shall reap what i have sown.
And then gladly smoke what i have grown.
Blowing your concepts up in smoke.
You try to explain but you choke.
On the things that you have done.
Just to be the one on the power end of the gun.
It doesn't matter in the end you will be who you are , who you were that's it!
Not who you could have been or should have been. No! only who you are! No ****!
So even if you wanted to break free from the routined tendency.
Just try to stop or alter the cycle of destiny.
You couldn't, wouldn't step out of your pretentious power trip comfort zone.
No you wouldn't blaze it up and blow it out like a cyclone.
Double clutch over your shoulder.
Tell yourself its because you are a soldier.
Pfffftt okay! You carry on with the way it seems you do you these days.
We all know each game has its players and their set of ways.
So you carry on with your step on step up double standard.
I will just fluff the humble in my coat and shy away from slander.
Two sides of a coin, positive to negative its contemporary.
We are who we are who we are ,meant to be! It is all part of the bigger picture, so puff puff pass its only temporary!
I Cried Today
I am thirteen today
You would think I would be happy
Yet it is hard to even crack a smile
With everyone wishing me a Happy Birthday
To me it’s not that happy
As today strange voices carrying on inside me
They say I don’t deserve to live
They say I should die
I am thirteen and
I Cried Today
My sweet sixteen isn’t so sweet
I just want to hide
Go back to sleep
Or simply disappear
What is a girl to do?
When she feels so sad, lonely and depressed
I don’t even have anyone to turn to
I am sixteen and
I Cried Today
Today I am nineteen
It is my graduation day
And while I am smiling on the outside
I feel like I am crumbling on the inside
Those voices don’t give
Never a break
No rest for the wicked they say
I am nineteen and
Today I Cried
I am twenty-one
No drinking for me
I am in a hospital as my first sip was almost my last
Who knew I could be so allergic
I am twenty-one
In a hospital and
I Cried Today
I am twenty-five
I thought I was in love
Until I walked in on my fiancé
In bed with my best friend
My heart feels so cold
I am so alone
As my world has just turned upside down
I am twenty-five and
I Cried Today
I am thirty
I am working hard
To get back my life
Take control of my future
And actually see the possibilities of a tomorrow
It is a lot of work
With a hard road ahead
I am Thirty
I Never Cried Today
I am thirty-four
In a few short months I will be thirty-five
I am not alone
I realize I never was
Surrounded by people I love
People who love me
Married to the love of my life
My dreams are coming true
I feel so happy
I am almost thirty-five and
I Smiled Today
By: Jean Shular
"Intermission: Flutterby Reveille"
Impromptu like a moth
pale words flutter out of his
psychodelic mind
curious funny flutterby…
for a second then, I didn't move,
deadpan, I said,
"... try again with some panache, some style"
incredulously, I smiled,
he's tripping guitar leads
counting long-tooth years
and numbers between drum beats
here no rest for the wicked, we...
hear pretty worded poets
walk on tip toe
balancing wet bars
on bipolar tightropes
shaking up and banging upside down
all the pretty snowglobes
In his land of silent muses
driving as he wrote
Singing “Every Little Breeze Seems to Whisper Louise's”
Pushing the envelope
aside, he writes,
retirement is a caged zoo
he gets high on cryptic puzzles
and cracking her
Sudoku
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
Breakfast Reveille:
The Angels, “Take a Long Line”
https://youtu.be/4LdZAK2Rfkg
The Angels, “Rhythm Rude Girl”
https://youtu.be/4bWsbCpCwOg
The Angels, “Rhythm Rude Girl”
https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/angels/rhythmrudegirl.html
bricks and bars and dirty white walls
nobody cares whenever you fall
nobody answers when you make collect calls
nobody thinks of you at all...
dropped like a dime in a bottomless well...can't wrap my mind around this man made hell
gladiators yell and guards cast lots...bettin life or death where warriors get popped
fists into flesh to amuse and amaze
the game never ends and it's not a bad dream...
doing time in the hate machine
never think of consequences...come to your senses
fried to a crisp on electrified fences
too late for repentance...no end to the sentence
division like insane incisions where racist pigs rule
reigning in blood,badges,and big black boots
peace signs like war crimes get tried...on the stand committing purgery
lying dirty devils soon put in soul surgery
no rest for the wicked,addicted,obnoxious and obscene...
doing time in the hate machine
cops,crooks,fall guys and mobsters gettin cooked,baked and boiled like lobsters
stick up kids leaving tire tracks and mile long skids
burning white lips from crackhead strips
gangster ghouls subtracting love and adding misery
black blanket parties inside perverts dreams...
doing time in the hate machine
[email protected]
True Solitude
Days disappear in never ending solitude
No rest for the wicked the night calls me
But I do not seek approval of the multitude
A few choice things have I always perused
Only ideals will be able to set my soul free
Days disappear in never ending solitude
A reckless course abandoned, now ensued
No it's not a cry for help, not even a plea
But I do not seek approval of the multitude
Looking now the words seem somewhat rude
Not the intention at all, but who will truly see
Days disappear in never ending solitude
Seeing my life now I have become quiet crude
A very costly price for that brief feeling of glee
But I do not seek approval of the multitude
Truths that I seek, my actions also delude
He believes in nothing they coldly decree
Days disappear in never ending solitude
But I do not seek approval of the multitude
I am the evil poet
Evil spells conjured
Nine love potions
Potent incantations
Written on scrolls
Bleeding ceaselessly
To bleed is to live
To write is to breathe
With every breath taken
More evil awakened
Devils on the shoulders
Cant be shaken
No mistaking for Christmas
Ghosts the leeching hosts
Life force sucked
Not able to duck
Can’t escape the chase
The noxious race
Ballet of death
“No rest for the wicked”
A snake laying in a
Thicket of lies
Take heed where you receive your prophecy One may call herself a prophetess only to miss only she is the self-fulfilled sealed by her own prodigy to kill true prophets to take what is thine your bliss Like Jezebel all dressed up with nothing to show to take the life of others while she threatens to take all Painted scarlet with silken tongue only the veneer of divine gold * * By the true God and His prophets the words that came to pass The place where dogs licked the blood of Naboth shall dogs lick thy blood for her whoredom and witchcrafts the land had no peace was alas Jehu rode under her window not as her Romeo to pine for her love with the words who is with me the eunuchs by her bed Her writing sprinkled on the wall as Jehu’s stead stood tall not swayed by her fleshly desires through Jezebel to her death * * The dogs shall eat Jezebel by the wall of Jezreel by the Word of Lord Jehu celebrates the call but compassion for she was a king's daughter Go bury the woman accursed but no rest for the wicked ward for the false bread will never profit nor tread upon the true waters The skull, and the feet, and the palms of her hands is all that was found
The Sprit of Jesus is the Spirit of prophecy so I do pray you heed His call prophesying from your own heart will end like Jezebel’s gnawed by hounds
No rest for the wicked...the torn and the twisted
The devils enlisted
Shots to my soul but they missed it
No rest for gangster goons and ghouls
fiends and fools
Chopping up lines and lighting up spoons
No rest for the angry and addicted the condemned and convicted
No end to that neverending supernatural sentence
No rest for mortals and monsters
Bad men and beasts...digesting power and defecating on peace
No rest on sin streets paved with fools gold...1000 miles an hour down dead end drives straight into bloody brick walls
Rise and fall to run and flip...dropped like a dime in a bottomless pit
Far beyond or far behind...No rest for lost losers at the end of the line
Is there any escape
from noise?
A crash, a rattle, a spoon in a cup
No rest for the wicked
Insistent buzzing piled up
Blaring horns
Lighted signs
Engines screaming in ears
So many angered red faces
Social media fears
To sit idle and quiet
Zazen tonic for nerves
An improbable concept
Driven on life’s oil slick’d curves
To slow
To ponder
To throttle it back
Oh, to step off of pavement
Rip out thick knotted phone jacks
But too much is this burden
Our man made bundle of sticks
Tied up with blood ribbons
Taking selfies for kicks
Not to know is too much knowing
Plagued by asking such questions
Turn thoughts off with pop-ups
Start the binge watching session.
"It seems hollow and cold, in here my dear."
Said the stange small voice from inside.
What happened to warmth and the beating from within?
As the pound of a beating heart faded on.
"It's all part of life",of this,I've been assured.
Sometimes things change,but people, almost never do.
As blood rushed to my head and my lungs filled full.
More than my last breath,yet less than my next.
Sacrifice is such a strange word.Though it all represents pain.
One will hurt for another to thrive,One to win,the other survive.
But no rest for the wicked.No time for the meek.The runt,must fend.
Bore but last, so willing to follow and slow to feed.
As the first to come is the first to lead,the first to leave.
Only the runt knows how to hide,
it's tiny legs barely able to shift.
"Hide little one" and the rain begins.
RJM 2013
Fixation of war engulfs the world
To take another person's land in the darkness
Dragging the life force out of good
Shoving change down another's throat
Creating equality that isn't pure or from the heart
Never to return in the womb of new life
Bowing heads of mercy slaughters
No peace of mind
No rest for the wicked
The body of the mortal shell shattered
The light of transfiguration will fade to nothing
The souls within hardens and humility will be long gone
No sleep when your heart is aching
The ache is constant the hurt doesn't beat
You live with needles in your skin, constant throbbing
The memories of him playing over and over
Twisting and turning no sleep tonight... again ...father why?
I want to erase the memories...run away from this agony ...I want this to end
No sleep...just tears and pain... I don't want to live here, drunken in anguish twisting and turning no rest for the wicked...haunted by his face , he's sleeping next to his new mate...and me just here ,I want to die ...twisting and turning pray for peace within....restless...sleepless
Delicate sounds,
almost like whispers
gently claw
into my ears,
enticing me out of my sleep,
drawing images
on the canvas
inside my head,
dashing sleep
on the rocks upon the shore.
I search the landscape
for the disturbance.
I can feel agitation
climb onto my shoulder
as a growl
vibrates from my throat.
There’s nothing within sight,
but as the wind
shifts the fur on my back
mutters swirl through my hearing
seeming to
be brought from the mountains
to tease my eardrums
and bite at my imagination.
My mind
starts circling myself,
tension drips from my pores
and this incessant,
quivering of sound,
not heard by all,
rattles in my skull
putting unrest upon my feet,
making my cavern
seem like a cell.
With no rest for the wicked
I lope towards
the closest crops of trees,
in my distracted state
my attention
is back in the cave
and only when
the wild game
scatters
does the bulb come on
with my realization
that I am reverting.