"Blue is the colour of the shroud I want to be buried with,
If there's a body left to bury.
If not, then just remember me,
Picture me in a blue hue; my soul, you'll see.
My days are closing in, rising in numbers,
Dreams are full of chasing demons now
Where to go, where to flee,
Where do the gods go when they're free!
There are so many voices in my head,
Full of bitterness; some songs, some noises, And some are just pure nuisance.
Violence is a broken promise,
Revenge is an empty one.
But they're still better,
Better in my head,
Better than your promise of forever together;
The bull we always fall for, yeah that one.
No, you weren't there for me in my need
You weren't there beside me,
You were there but I was here, all alone."
I hate this void within
this gaping hole
that screams of silence
thumping echoes in my brain
endlessly night and day
Images i can't decipher
hover of the edge of darkness
tinkering their bits of bitterness
a black hole in motion
without rhyme or reason
AP: 2nd place 2025
BY THE STREETLAMP
Poem written for SENSE OF TASTE POETRY CONTEST, Nette Onclaud, Sponsor July 28, 2025
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
she hunkers by the streetlamp
wrapped in a tattered blanket
lost in the cracks of concrete
swallows tangy bitterness
bitter brew of circumstance
choking on acrid despair
savoring sweet solitude
This life is a fierce battlefield,
Little did I know before my birth,
My weapons should have been better honed,
So no earthly force could conquer me.
Friends I made while I was nobody,
Turned to foes when I sought to be somebody,
Those I loved with all my heart and soul
Blew pepper in my eyes when vision blurred.
Deceit comes robed in sheep's clothing,
But in its mouth lie poisonous fangs,
Mental torture is their specialty –
They wield it without a flicker of remorse.
When I wept from the pains they inflicted,
They dried my tears with clean handkerchiefs,
Their smiles conceal their bitter hearts,
Veiled in peace, their souls steeped in a vile bile.
Why were some people made just to hate?
They rejoice when they see their friends cry,
They are logs happier as stumbling blocks.
Than as bridges across a stormy river.
Had I come with my own weapons,
Their jugular would have been severed
To drain their wickedness till dry,
To purge their hearts of bitterness till empty,
And plant in their minds true love to grow.
Enough, he said with voice pitched low
Enough for now, he whispered slow
And curled in upon himself
Having nothing left to show
Knowing no one and nonself
Enough, he cried though no one heeded
Enough for now, as he retreated
And left another piece behind
Having no faith to be intreated
Perceiving his own broken mind
Enough, he proclaimed with a tremor
Enough for now, if I remember
And cursed himself a fool
Having no word to condemn her
Aware that she was ever cruel
Enough, he shouted above the gale
Enough for now, and beyond the pale
And twisted his face into a scowl
Having nothing to add to the tale
Conscious of the verdict’s howl
Enough, he cursed deep and vile
Enough for now, with poet’s style
And laughed with bitter fortune
Having lost the courage to smile
Mindful of his full lost portion
Enough, he screamed from soul deep
Enough for now, as he woke from his sleep
And shuddered as his eyes opened
Having nothing and no tears to weep
Heeding the anguish that life betokened
She brewed it slow,
the thistle steeped—
a greyish brown
in porcelain grace.
Each sip, a sting—
a bitter bloom,
but she smiled,
claiming peace.
At first, a wince,
then less, then none—
until the taste
was home enough.
No sugar added,
no honey balm,
just thorn and grass
and quiet aches.
“How did she bear?”
they often ask.
“It’s the way I like it,”
she often says.
But bitterness
never just begins—
it’s learned,
one sip a day.
Until bitterness
becomes a friend,
and even the sting—
a kind of warmth.
Something broken,
Something lost
‘Til what they found
Must pay the cost.
What was broken?
A heart, a mind, a soul
What was lost?
Your faith, your way, your control
So what did they find?...
Never moving,
Always bitter
Alone, in this pain
Alone, so they shiver.
Why wouldn’t they move?
Body petrified, legs rooted, heart stoned
Why were they bitter?
Existence subsumed, emotions betrayed, violence condoned
...But what did they find?
Once joyful they sang
Full of shine and glimmer
Now heads hang,
Hearts become still and dimmer.
What was shining?
Their life, their vitality, their prime
Why is it dimming?
Sweet death, new decay, old time
But what is it they find?!
Forever wander in the mist,
Or stray from the golden path,
Be lost to the ether cold,
Hope to find home at last.
The morning slaps me awake
with a frozen windscreen,
keys in hand, scraping frost like
I’m chiselling through someone else’s mistakes.
My breath hangs in the air,
a ghost of myself
mocking the effort.
The cold flirts cruelly with my cheeks,
leaving them raw,
only for the radiator’s blast
to burn them out of spite.
The heating bill waits in the wings,
a villain in this pantomime.
“Put on another jumper,” I mutter,
as if wool could conquer capitalism.
Blanketed, I surrender to films
where faces blur into
a tinsel-coated déjà vu –
different eyes, same dialogue,
happy endings so loud
they drown out my cynicism.
Stupid Christmas songs screech
their hollow cheer,
and I let them.
They’re easier to hate
than my own thoughts.
But the air is so fresh
it cuts clean through the noise.
For a moment,
the world feels lighter –
even the weight I carry
shrinks to something
I can hold in my hands,
turning it over like snowflakes,
watching it melt
into the brittle calm of this season.
The bitterness in life
Is originally a part of life
If you cannot avoid it
Learn to taste it
Only after tasting the bitterness
Can you feel the true beauty of life
What it means is that
If you want to reach good times
You must first go through adversity.
Pent up emotions like storm clouds roll
Entering my mind, all calm it stole
Anger and pain like crimson flowers bloom
Cajoling me to hit out and wound
Each person who hurt me,I didn't suspect
Supposed to love me, to protect
People are surprising, they don't do what I expect
Everytime I trusted, each time I loved
Another crack in my fragile heart would show up
Keep trying... keep trusting... results so bleak
Eventually, in Jesus, I came to find peace
Rising from forgiveness, God's love spoke to me
I don't know if from where do people draw their bitterness against other people. But bigots nowadays don't know the difference between patriotism and puppetry...
Lost the one I thought they cared for me.
I feel like a lonely fella, even the wolf has its moon at night.
Betrayal I get
Tears fill my eye
Heartbroken
Cold I turn
Heartless I become
Blamed for being the bad person
People forgetting
Their past actions
Lonely life
Imaginary friend
Fake scenes
Glued to the screen of the phone.
My feelings never matter,
But I always laughing.
I feel like the joker, with no Harley Quinn
Dark room
In a corner
Crying for empathy
Unheard voice
Trapped inside thoughts
Icicles hung from the roof
like translucent fingers
Clawing towards the ground
While behind the eaves,
She brushed her plain brown hair
Tired gray eyes in the mirror,
Discolored around the fringe
And gravity pulled at the frown
Like it did everything else
She was one of many,
A soul, a body
With all the glitter rubbed away
Winter breathed out its discontent
A heaving sigh that scattered leaves
Over mailboxes, churches, graveyards
You can lose yourself in those fields out there
Mired in snow, as countless as crows
As tin men, as a brick in the wall
And when three young girls,
All smiles and apple cheeks and roses
Walked by her window, she cast those grey eyes down
From above— her jaw nutcracker clenched
New England January froze her eyes
A hand clenched and unclenched
at their sparkly laughter
The brush rattled to the floor
As the girls disappeared from her line of sight
She was already a thousand miles away
Up into the cirrus clouds,
Each inch colder than the last
Icicles hung from the roof
like translucent fingers
Clawing towards the ground
While behind the eaves,
She brushed her plain brown hair
Tired gray eyes in the mirror,
Discolored around the fringe
And gravity pulled at the frown
Like it did everything else
She was one of many,
A soul, a body
With all the glitter rubbed away
Winter breathed out its discontent
A heavying sigh that scattered leaves
Over mailboxes, churches, graveyards
You can lose yourself in those fields out there
Mired in snow, as countless as crows
As tin men, as a brick in the wall
And when three young girls,
All smiles and apple cheeks and roses
Walked by her window, she cast those grey eyes down
From above— her jaw nutcracker clenched
New England January froze her eyes
A hand clenched and unclenched
at their sparkly laughter
The brush rattled to the floor
As the girls disappeared from her line of sight
She was already a thousand miles away
Up into the cirrus clouds,
Each inch colder than the last
The rocks on the sea bed
Can be friendly in storms
When our sails are bedraggled
Or all tattered and torn
From our voyage on seas
Often left unexplored
But there's truth in the water
That cannot be ignored
In the wind is the Spirit
An adventurer's friend
So we move in directions
To where searching may end
There are hazards aplenty
As the salty air calls
There's that taste for adventure
But another taste galls..
We'd fare well to remember
Not all rocks help to save us
When we cast out our anchor
Catching bitterness flavours
Where the water is stagnant
And the wind but a tease
Hopeful canvas restored
Needing more than a breeze
Then it's time to resolve
Pull umbilical chain
Begin a fresh outlook
Let the rancour remain
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