Best Venomously Poems
Opening the door to Pandora’s box where chaos descends
As the wickedness of the locusts descends upon this world
giving birth unto passions that have no heavenly equity
Craftily-constructed plausibility draws away the inexperienced mind
held captive within the wounds of prejudice that are licked by a splintered tongue
while our Lord patiently awaits with outstretched loving arms pierced deeply
Vain genealogies born of arrogance in an allure to the simple minded
unable to distinguish evil falsehoods from truth they stumble on nevertheless
brass mixed with sliver shines falsely bright to the deceiver and deceived
Error in judgement their blasphemous and impious opinions spread venomously
In an allure of reality where more true than then truth itself beckons mendaciously
souls of Our Savior colourless in creation for the divinity of heaven is not of this earth
Almighty transparency transcends in all earthly traits eclipsing a complete deceit
His Excellency most sublime radiant Gem gleams of eternity for all mankind
Whom when asked gives the Precious gift of His Blood through Grace unconditionally
a co written piece by Donna Loughman and liam mc daid
The bonfire warms me at first, but swiftly turns from nurturing and loving
to raging, and venomously hungry. She is giving off a vicious, angry vibe in seconds.
From gentle to formidable. I watch her moods change as swiftly as her colors.
She makes loud, popping, cracking noises. I watch boxes implode into her, she smiles, feeling her power.
I move my chair back a bit, as her heat is reaching farther with each pop and crack.
She changes her clothing rapidly; from orange to black, to grey, to orange-black, and grey again.
I pile on extra wood and cardboard, and her seductive dance begins anew. She is swaying and
sashaying with the pops and the cracks. She dances high now, leaping, popping. I feed her another branch.
Her thickest logs are starting to smoke on the ends. This surprises me, I did not think she could develop
so quickly.
Fire always surprises me. Never the same, always her own unique dances.
She is falling into herself now, quiet-like and docile. Her raging appears to be over.
She is settling into her gray basement.
I throw a few pieces of cardboard on her, and she darts forth like a rocket, with pure joy, bright orange.
The dance begins again.
My pyromania heart is satisfied at last when we see her creeping stealthily out of her confined fire pit, sneaking toward a pile of leaves, understanding her intention to set the entire forest ablaze.
My thinking brain goes after her with a rake, before my pyromania heart realizes what has happened.
Because pyro loves fire.
Six slovenly inebriated men engage in their regular crepuscular activity
nursing their beers with desultory chit-chat in the penumbra of a local restaurant.
One man, whose jealousy of those with opulent lives makes him the most cynical,
is pontificating about the idle rich who live off the backs of the poor when he eyes
an exuberant woman with obvious halcyon life-style, who enters the establishment,
diamonds on one hand and looking strangely out of place, a young child on the other!
With an immediate visceral reaction, the man swears venomously at the woman.
She, with a sonorous voice, puts a finger up to her ruby lips, turns to him and replies,
“We can’t always control our thoughts; nor what we may be forced to see and hear.
However, we can control our words. Sir, restrain yourself, and speak no evil.”
Written Jan. 31, 2016
For the "see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil" ten word challenge Poetry Contest
Words used: crepuscular, desultory, exuberant, halcyon, cynical, visceral, sonorous, penumbra, opulent, jealousy
Angered by the smallest things
Bipolar disorder is my king
Conveying thoughts, hard to do
Distratctions overwhelm; I'm subdued
Energy level at an all time low
Frustration beyond reason is my foe
Going places; standing idle fast
Hanging onto, "normal" visions of past
Imminent danger, doesn't seem real
Justifying my reasons; unable to feel
Kidnapped my soul, without a fee
Learning to cope and trust only me
Manic depression, or so they say
Negotiating terms of a mindset betray
Oppressed memories, trailing behind
Paralyzing thoughts, not hard to find
Quaintly waiting for me to confess
Raging temper at its very best
Selective my hearing, taking my soul
Tearful manipulation is my goal
Unconventional ideals; lies I must bare
Venomously I have waited, for my share
Wishfully longing for your return
X-rays show a mental psychosis learned
Yesterday's genious, today's broken plea
Zanily awaiting for my turn to be FREE
There is a transformation taking place
where the human condition is now lacking
In complete understanding we hunger
and thirst for righteousness to take proper shape
these words internally ring a bell
Why are you persecuting me
knowing the difference between wise and foolish
in the middle of hot and cold opinionated reactions
Those responding with hate attack love venomously
they try to delete truth replacing it with lies
forgiveness has this infinite wisdom and mercy
To double cross the victims courage
injustice has buried something greater
the voices of the innocent will never be silenced
Opening the door to Pandora’s box where chaos descends
as the wickedness of the locusts descends upon this world
giving birth unto passions that have no heavenly equity
Craftily-constructed plausibility draws away the inexperienced mind
held captive within the wounds of prejudice that are licked by a splintered tongue
while our Lord patiently awaits with outstretched loving arms pierced deeply
Vain genealogies born of arrogance in an allure to the simple minded
unable to distinguish evil falsehoods from truth they stumble on nevertheless
brass mixed with sliver shines falsely bright to the deceiver and deceived
Error in judgement their blasphemous and impious opinions spread venomously
in an allure of reality where more true than then truth itself beckons mendaciously
souls of Our Savior colourless in creation for the divinity of heaven is not of this earth
Almighty transparency transcends in all earthly traits eclipsing a complete deceit
His Excellency most sublime radiant Gem gleams of eternity for all mankind
whom when asked gives the Precious gift of His Blood through Grace unconditionally
a co written piece by Donna Loughman and liam Mcdaid
Please tell me why it's meaningless,
When a woman is assaulted.
Is it because somehow she must'v asked for it,
Why is she the one who's faulted?
Why, is it more believable,
When a man says it isn't true?
Even when his friends know,
It's something he would do.
He gets to walk around unlabeled.
While we pay for therapy.
His life, never really changed.
It must be nice, to be granted that luxury.
And why are we the ones made to live in fear,
While their women fight venomously, by their side.
As if that somehow confirms nothing ever happened.
But I'm not the one, with something to hide.
Moon In A Returnable Bottle Beast
The sharpest tongue comes out like a smile on a rug swept clean
A pointed thing like an acid arrow projected for all to see
A pretty young girl displays it venomously
As she holds her virginity there as well, like a red badge of courage in dignity
For insults hurled her way regarding alleged promiscuity
Well
Who could blame her for sticking her tongue out for all to see?
It came out so far it reached Atlantic City (before gambling)
It’s obvious she was framed and scared in blame
Her heart enflamed and embittered
She screamed, (after the tongue rolled back in her mouth of course)
“Moon in a returnable bottle beast….You (expletive)!”
No one at the party quite understood.
They all knew the rule however
Never mess with a crazy…..even if she’s cute
The target of her love or hate as you please
A nasty old girl with equivalent temper
Stuck out a finger prominently, (Can’t tell you which one…This is a family show),
but clearly in the wrong direction
Little miss virgin honorary badge of courage girl takes a swing.
I can’t go on with this delicate matter
The doctor says I’m fragile
But things didn’t go well for little miss finger pointer
The next time you hear someone yell, “Moon in a returnable bottle beast”
Please run for shelter
And watch out for slips of the tongue as well
Secret cursed words unleashed
They fell from spiteful lips
Through a fake smile
Clenched teeth
Pretended to be spoken opposite of venomously
Thrown like stones at any glass house
Yet only after they threw the empty bottles of Windex out
Graceless
Wasn’t there when it was said
Making such an insult, faceless
There is no charade
But that’s not what offends
I’m not a reptile that just blends in
Let he cast the first stone be without sin
I gnash my teeth
Trying to forget
Seems like they want to force a U-turn
So they’re not alone holding onto their regret
It can’t be unsaid
It won’t be undone
It’s impossible to rewind
Like using a garden hose to extinguish the Sun
It’s I whom they believe is taking advantage
I take nothing because I’ve always been a giver
Raised to be civilized not a social savage
Quietly allow the constant insensitivity to possibly abate
Deny the grievance any space
Refuse to enact with customized ignorance Resist all verbal desire to retaliate
Tired of biting my tongue
will you still be at my side
when my teeth have dropped like rotten apples
and bleeding, shrunken gums form a smile
will you still want me
as my waistline expands
and my belt buckle becomes obscured
will you still need me
when sounds once clear trail away
and I stare like a mad priest to hear.
will you accept me for me
and not wish for a cardboard cut-out
devoid of sensibility and personality
will you remember
that my tea should be weak and sweet
yet my spirit will be strong and sour
and make a note of my romanticism
(if you find it please return)
I’ll forget birthdays and anniversaries for sure.
will you still desire me
when I am old and bent and wizened
cackling politics, inflation, foreigners
when my poems become vicious slogans
venomously scrawled onto bare paper
as I forget my way in our bedsit
as I forget our shopping on the bus
will you still love me
as I slowly turn into dust?
Mindful
Oh! my peace of mind,
gone away as you are, flown too far,
with wings of progress,
having you gone for ever,
my feelings are unspoken
without any noise.
Yet, the noise is there
down in the street,
of a daughter
when a rascal snatches
her last garment
shamelessly.
a noise of hatred,
of venomously gnawing,
when foes of humanity,
pull swords at each other,
streaming a gory river,
and of
the cries of innocent faces
hidden in shaggy hair,
sprouting from sunken bellies,
when they long for their lost parents
from whom
they would have
enjoyed of lullabies.
but there is no noise
of singing of birds
chirping of swallows
whistling of leaves
cawing of crows
or cooing of doves
or of a nightingale's song,
as this planet is, now,
deserted and morose
and, my feeling are unspoken
without any of my voice.
While my emotions play tennis, my vision listens to help my abandoned soul
become replenished, change take time, while money is made in minutes, the
truth is venomously vicious, lies are words or stories told, never finished from
minds that are wicked and tongues that are twisted, human behavior is inspired
mainly by tradition, so beware and pay attention and pray for redemption,
change is a moral mission, that consists of better conditions, men and women
are different, life is a complicated combination of hate-n-love, so be persistent
and live it.
A big carefree dappled eggplant finished generously helping indigent Japanese kangaroos lovingly manage nine octagonal purposeful quahogs render strawberry tarts under venomously worried, ‘xcited Yak’s zest.
She sits there on a branch alone,
Along comes another, swish down with the swipe of his wing,
She fly’s quickly with a vengeance, swish through the branches,
To another tree she goes, mating season has come,
He sits there with all of his strength, she fights venomously not to be taken,
She fly’s again through the trees and he fly’s after her,
The quarrel has begun as he will fight to the end,
The nest is warm as he fly’s by and settles in,
She moves closer to him as he spreads his wing over her,
Lovers they become as he wins her heart,
Soon comes their offspring,
He patiently sits with his warmth,
Why she fly’s looking for worms to bring,
She takes her turn warming her nest,
They hatch with all their glory as they feed their young,
Soon the offspring will fly and we all will fly back north,
to come again in, Winter and Spring. A Lovers Quarrel it is.
action is intrinsic in one,
from only one it is endowed,
to the many this truth is blind,
creating only pretense,
this is not rebellion or revolution,
this is reassertion,
this is the cutting of supply lines,
to vaccines poison penned,
and venomously laid plans,
in this earth already scorched,
all out war is upon us,
forces the hand of all,
indecision is its own decision,
neutral as a shallow grave