Best Wretches Poems
Note:***This poem is meant to be read from the bottom to the top, left to right
------------------------------------------------------------------
Never Again
and you remain—
For the World has gone from me and fled
The stairway of my mind shall never end
I accept the fate with the grinning dead
Hello again demons, hello friends
I remain
Alas! I fall and I am done
Tell me where have you fled, my love, my friend?
For a moment I gaze upon the sun
Here I am on earth again
1 Stair Remains
Why can’t I be free?
Tell me, why aren’t they looking at thee?
Why are they looking at me?
2 Stairs Remain
The garments of comfort I long to wear
Knowing in my heart that I’ll never win
I skip that grimy third stair
Like most of my life has been
3 Stairs Remain
Though my infected feet leave bloodstains
I can’t release even a single tear
The poisons encompass my river of veins
I step on thorns of wrath and fear
Enshrouded with pain!
4 Stairs Remain
Oh, how am I to survive?
Relieve me from this ever-fixed sadness
Why can’t you just be alive?
Cease this madness!
5 Stairs Remain
As you breathe your very last breath
The devilish fiends laugh at me
They are blaming me for your death
The deaths of the masses are calling me
6 Stairs Remain
The carcasses you feed upon are glaring
Oh! vulturous world so full of greed
When everyone is staring
God, redeem me!
I just can’t succeed
7 Stairs Remain
Of other fiendish sins
And I feel the shivers
Drowned by the turbulent wind
My stale breath quivers
8 Stairs Remain
Though we all aren’t free
They laugh below in the hole where I fell
The demons are haunting, taunting me
Alone I wander blindly out of hell
9 Stairs Remain
And my will is close to gone…
The stairway continues on
Forever hungry, forever stale
I toil through death’s dark vale
10 Stairs Remain
Why can’t we be free?
My resistance is nearly gone
The wretches are watching, stalking me
I’m too exhausted to move on
Categories:
wretches, confusion, death, depression, inspirational,
Form:
Rhyme
Sooth this irrational rage resplendent in its affliction
See through the foolish drawls that make up my surrounding core
Understand I see each flaw of mine in light of your brilliance
Not to compare yours to my worth as wretches do thrash in vain,
But to mold along your own tapestries,
And rightfully, in threads of gold, sustain
Oh, can it be as I request your stay,
That you are truly aware of the magic in your poetic sway
Of a life so drawn to the scaffolds of your welcoming mind
To see its dream, structure, and its whole, combined
It must be so, oh enthralling writer,
That we see through lenses reflecting all shimmers of might
Sifting and searching beneath all shades of blue
To find our reflections have touched surfaces we still yet discover
Within myself and you
And my love, it must be so,
That in your makings, your labors, your loves
I find myself not only nearer, but clearer,
As this budding rose no longer wavers in irksome winds of her doubt
Tremoring in such loathsome drawls birthed by some distant, parched earth
You, in your magic, cultivate and reward such growth
So that this rose ever rejoices her new mirth,
And with your sure, steadfast direction,
Out the very canals that gush your soul’s purpose
You seed her worth, feed her worth, and know her worth
Just as she worships yours
Categories:
wretches, beautiful, dedication, desire, devotion,
Form:
Free verse
Naked Clowns Demented Brother
Alas one disaster follows another,
naked clown - demented brother
dancing for the heads of state
asleep with faces in their plate
and as the rubber chicken stretches
they send again the fool who fetches
red noses from downtrodden wretches
to decorate the wedding cakes
join the real to crumbling fakes
camouflage who gives and takes
shifting weight of global heat
melting shoes on city street
to shrinking ice caps tidal creep
rising under Al Gore’s jeep
clowns, they squeeze their bulbous horns,
geneticize the rose – no thorns
while warning us of sunless dawns
their seltzer bottles but a prop
sprayed on a fire that won’t stop
its cindering of nature’s crop
Alas, the clowns will all save face
disappear without a trace
disguise their noses as thorn-less roses
post naked “selfies” in heroes poses
Alas one disaster follows another,
naked clown – demented brother.
John G. Lawless
©7/13/2017
Categories:
wretches, bullying, confusion, humor, power,
Form:
Political Verse
The hours grows late and so the night bodes ill,
Another man falls, he did drink his fill.
And what fate do the streets take,
When the night cracks with a dawn break?
The rotten and unwanted fate,
Resented and repelled too late.
When the breath of man became disgrace,
Habitual of a hollow, heathen race.
And the cumbersome unrest of drunken sleep,
With a final sigh the streets does sweep.
Here unbidden wretches mark out their day,
In this sorry place they waste away.
As the city shifts focus from watchful eyes,
Concealing its dirt beneath painted lies.
Without a sound each night exhumed,
Then ritual veneer polished and re-assumed.
Categories:
wretches, peoplenight, night,
Form:
Rhyme
Tell the monster
Tell the monster, you little coward
That it mustn’t murder
To show it eternally wretches and writhes
To show your inner maggots that crave malcontent
It mustn’t murder
To bring down all with its own misery
To give the world a taste of what they have inflicted
On such a poor, abandoned soul
Oh, deprived prey!
You were born for this man’s selfish strategy
Toward power and impertinence,
To desecrate the human body in the name of science
For one wretched worm’s pursuit of renown
Oh, murderer, you have done your damage long ago
The moment your pride turned to the innocent dead
To rob their shells in search of gold
Coward!
Abandoner!
Imbecile
Tell the monster the truth
That it murders to ravish your failures
To make your innards whimper and quiver
To sustain the guilt that has long eaten you
Since the creation of your surfaced flaw
Yes, in your arrogant aims, the murder of millions commence
Categories:
wretches, conflict, dark, death, evil,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
& when you finally die,
they will not let you rest---
for to finally get to enter every orifice
of your once secret world
is something that vultures dream of
late at night,
before cumming in their jammies
to the thought of discovering
what was never ever their business to begin with---
and when they get what they want,
they’ll puncture it with a stake &
run all over the televised town square
amidst interviews with people who will
say that they are your friends now &
family members who will say they always knew you,
all wretches whose boredom in life can be stirred up
into a freshness for a day or so
by the vomiting up of lies concerning a
dead person for the national public.
ever heard the stories of the sap whose **** collection or
drug stash was found by the weeping family members after
the tragedy?
ever heard a story come from the mouth of an individual so very worried
that when it is all over,
the “real” them will be discovered?
unfortunately,
the incessant curiosity of mundane, mediocre minds
has no limit &
to make themselves feel more alive &
better about their own failings,
they’ll stop at nothing to find out everything about
anyone,
when said individual is no longer alive
to ask them politely
to stay out of their business.
Categories:
wretches, life, drug,
Form:
Free verse
Doom. I smell it
A sensual feast
of vices. Wretches
subscribe their pride
to dark horses who ride in the
Gloom.
Doom, thy muse who takes pleasure
in dealing despair.
Orphans who lay in the ill sown seeds of
Ruin.
Doom. Now taste the sweet release of thine
enemies. Apple blossoms ripen to a poisonous
Bloom.
Doom. Hear sounds of chaos and tongue tied terror.
screams of the destruction Sweet Mercy will wreak upon her
Broom.
Doom.
------------------
This is a poem from January. Thought I had posted it before...but nope. Hope you like it.
Categories:
wretches, nonsense,
Form:
Free verse
K through Twelve,
it's called.
Students and teachers
walk the halls.
From beginning to end
behaving like they should
Or else. . .
One knows that
the attic is filled with cobwebs,
of course,
and dusty musty old textbooks
discarded lessons and copies
of one's grade reports.
But the basement . . .
One knows
there's a cave below the boiler room
filled with old projects and paraphernalia.
A tomb lined with damaged models:
plastic skulls,
plastic brains,
and plastic hearts.
An abandoned asylum for the malformed and the maladjusted,
the deformed and the defective.
Stalactites drip growing steadily down,
glowing and sparkling
oblivious.
The floor is soft and powdery, damp cold
decades of ashes and dust
where one lands when one falls.
Strange crystalline music of dark nested spheres
repeats.
If one is able and
not wholly broken then
one may wander through,
past the poor wretches
who line one's way . . .
If one can wonder or wander at all
after one's fall
then one reaches the mouth of the tunnel and crawls
up
to a barn door in the wall.
A light shines through there
where
one may stare
and beyond others' noises echo busy
buzzy
cheer??
Once opened, it reveals the shopping mall
where graduates sell Their wares.
"Free dessert" is being given away.
Dutch apple pie of several varieties,
some sugar free and some without fat.
If one buys that.
A celebration seems
to be in the air
Halloween, it seems,
and behind scenes
the revelers come near.
From the cave and dark dungeon they parade
in masquerade.
Singing in unison.
Coming forth, as one,
to get their share.
Categories:
wretches, angst, childhood, confusion, education,
Form:
Free verse
Love has been lost
Pleasure is my mired domain
All that I could say
Falling away
Lust wretches my face
My life shall waste....
Taken from you
All of those things that you've consumed
Each trace of the flesh
You cannot see
What you've left with me,
All alone...
Categories:
wretches, allah, angst, earth day,
Form:
Lyric
Wicked hexing creatures
Wagging their evil tongues
while casting ancient spells
Wart faced old hags. Women
who recite sorcery,
with newt eyes in cauldrons
Wretches grouped in covens
Categories:
wretches, magic,
Form:
Pleiades
Though tears flow from my eyes
Though pain wretches my heart
I know I will smile again
And hope the sun shines tomorrow
Though darkness enfolds me
Though heavy rain cants stop
Though shattered, hurt and confused
I shall smile again
Though the heart can’t beat it all
Though tired weary and lost
I know I will smile again
And I will, smile again
Categories:
wretches, blue, sad,
Form:
ABC
1.Though unrighteous, harming virtuous
not vilifying elevates.
2.Smile before, slander behind
worse than unvirtuous.
3.Despite slandering, life starving-death
yields righteous gains.
4.Affront in front, avoid
hurting defamation behind.
5.Wickedness is seen among
slandering behind wretches.
6.Others defame slanderer knowing
worse among slandering.
7.Unknowing delightful friendship separate
defaming behind friends.
8. Even close friends,slander
what unknown does?
9.Earth bears slanderers as
if expecting charity.
10.Self-realisng as others defects
can harm approach?
…………………………………
Dedicated to Thiruvalluvar(31B.C), the author in Tamil
Translated by S.Kandasamy, MUSIRI, TAMILNADU, INDIA
Published in poetrysoup.com on 11-12-13
Categories:
wretches, inspirational,
Form:
Couplet
You are what the Lord wants most,
Forget your past sins and start anew,
Remember that Grace is forgiveness,
And your faith in His grace will save you,
Good fruit will naturally flow,
Once the Lord has you upon the path,
And all of the seeds of faith you sow,
Will give others what you now have,
Your life will be filled with the light,
And this is the thing we must all share,
For in knowing we are wretches saved,
You can help others to be spared,
Once you find yourself on the path,
And temptation bothers you no more,
There is more work to do in your mission,
Until brotherly kindness becomes yours,
And there are gifts so glorious,
Which come to those sanctified,
Those practiced in the faithful walk,
To be used so the Lord is glorified,
But life gets us so caught up,
We may be saved but we may forget to play our part,
Forgetting reasons we have been given these gifts,
For we should always shine with all the love in our hearts.
We need to each be a road to the Lord's path,
We need to each always glorify our Lord,
We need to remember that being Christian,
Means we should be rejoicing in our reward,
For being Chirstian, doesn't mean,
That I am better than anyone else,
It only means that I find I stumble,
And I need the Lord's blessed help,
Finding the Lord did not make me,
A better man than anyone I know,
Rather it has made me understand,
How what I've done brought me low,
Receiving the Lord and sharing his word,
This is just a natural reaction,
One minute I am a man trapped by his sin,
And then a glorious thing happened,
I was forgiven all of my trespasses,
I then felt the rush of the spirit,
And then came a whisper so quiet,
So quiet, you could hardly hear it,
It told me the price of this gift,
Was to follow where it would guide,
To simply live a life of love,
And by the commandments abide.
Michael Wilson
Categories:
wretches, religion, life, me, faith,
Form:
Ballad
use ...
choose ...
the hues of blues
blacks, whites - news
a day-old bruise that lies like torment
under the skin, thin, to squirm and tickle
itching, twitching to send you the fickle reminder
the daily, hourly, minute-by-damn-minute message
vestiges of the mistake you'll never take back
slack, the bad choices - echoes of voices
the Rolls Royces of demons to flood your veins
ease your bone-dry pains, rife, (this is life?!?)
set the sloshy, gelatinous matter of your brains
to a new standard ... a new faith, (the wry wraith)
tiny, briny monsters that ride your cells
find you fresh hells, ring your blasted body-bells
course, hot, through coarse arteries
(hit me up harder, please), pound you to mush, (hush - listen!)
so glisten the deeds and honors and accomplishments
not worth the flush of a handle - don't let the candle burn out!
the shout of orange, crushed powder in your palm
melted warm to sing tender crimes to your blood
a flood of slap-happy crap to drip from your marrow
the chemical arrow that pierces your heart with the sweetest of lies
writhes with its blight - wraps you tight for flight
an all-time height for wretches
pulls and stretches your life to thin threads
seeks naught but heads on its pointy poisoned pike
the dark, deep, burning kiss of bliss
this non-stop, one-way custom coach
to Oblivion ... womb to tomb
taste the sweet tongue
of Doom ...
and smile.
* THIRD PLACE in the "Quick Fire Rapid Rhyme" Poetry Contest, Brenda Chiri, Sponsor. *
Categories:
wretches, analogy, culture, drug, introspection,
Form:
Rhyme
calling all mistreated jugglers
and wretches of condemned madhouses
bewitched by fingers of freak fame
the spindly fingers of trickster twins
that open the floodgates to occult caverns
unleashing the brusque wraiths
the brittle symmetry of her glacial eyes
cast down from the empyrean skies
as a sanctified abyss from ancient past
eyes as candlelit rectory windows
shining bright like voluptuous pyre
and ferryman’s lantern on turbid nights
calling all gritty peyote coyotes
gargoyles of noxious mind germination
whistling by the graves of stars
in the form of ravenous black holes
so vexed by the self-immolation of lovers
the musicality of their hearty asphyxia
tantalized through thick and thin
falling in cascade down the wailing well
how do we always end up vampirized
singing the longeval sardonic litanies
outliving the meteoric tremors
as monuments of the past tumble down
calling all incorporeal beasts
to swing the fate’s pendulum in effigie
and mourn the motheaten grandeur
of lofty and aged Victorian ancestry
within the reach of eternity’s gate
disemburdened and lost to the ether
melting at last in the muse’s embrace
eclipsed by the fading night gyrations
there’s no excuse not to leave in rapture
one last rainy walk by the derelict wharf
ready to fall down the fissures en masse
into the ruptures of our narcotic glossary
Categories:
wretches, imagery, surreal, symbolism,
Form:
Free verse