To my face you are kindness itself:
cheerful, always upbeat,
but in your anonymous blog
you rip me apart.
You press your thumb and forefinger on each side,
hold, pull and rend,
and rupture my very innards.
You focus on me,
my life, my words, my actions and my body
like you are a Celestron Telescope
searching for every single crater and irregularity.
With an Ultima Barlow lens
and your Leica M9 18MP
You grab each natural image
and then rearrange reality with
your precious, perversely persuasive, periscopic Photoshop technique.
poetic liberty has leased you a license to assassinate,
humiliate,
decimate,
invalidate,
severely lambaste,
and mockingly castrate
everything that I identify as me.
literary freedom allows you to liberally fabricate,
mutilate,
denigrate,
incriminate,
scathingly castigate,
and maliciously urinate
on what others think of me.
To my face you are kind beyond selflessness,
but on your online beat,
your anonymous malevolence
sets you apart
from all the others
that have ever wanted
to write me up,
put me down,
and publish me out.
— Zumwalt (2011) (used by permission from zumpoems.com)
hollow the words seem when said to a wall,
bounce back with fear and anger to keep,
papal silence for the thrall to burrow asleep,
worms of thoughts weep by sunrise to fall.
skills of a magistrate in proper order would bow,
kings would castrate themselves to drink milk,
cows jump moons for the money pig on top,
steak and bacon sizzle on the solar flare.
where are we in all this, wondrous saloon?
cowgirls and cowboys, or more like cowards?
the paddle doors swinging and the guns draw,
would you shoot or hesitate, ten steps is all you take?
turn and boom it all flutters down in spades,
joining in this house of cards in the breeze.
Soozie was angry with her boyfriend, Bob
Tried dismembering him but botched the job
Disgruntled with all men
She vowed to try again
When she found him in bed with her friend, Rob
Soozie was livid! You should've seen her
She couldn't hide her savage demeaner
This time her plan would work
She would castrate the jerk
Missed again...charged with a misdawiener
Bob's thingy is the size of a pickle
When he goes potty, it's just a trickle
He screams her name..."SOOZIE!
You were such a floozie!
Then you became a witch, an ice cycle!"
Take away his crown
Take away his jewels
Kill his knights
Burn down his castle but
Without his Queen he is nothing
Don't you make room
For dark despair,
Let peace now bloom
To flood clear airs.
Don't be afraid
When all seems lost,
Let joy kill dread
To cover cost.
Don't let the dark
Bring hurl of fright,
Peace is the spark
That channels light.
Don't let some fear
Force you to hide,
Light will show clear
The ego's pride.
Don't let despair
Shape wrong address,
Style your own flair
To dare express.
Don't you give in
As shadows fall,
A light within
Answers your call.
Don't let the world
Castrate your guts,
Dance your own swirls
And brave each cut.
Don't let fear tell
A sad story,
Brave how you dwell
In true glory.
Don't let the fake
Break you apart,
Truth helps you make
A healthy heart.
Don't live with hate
That poisons mind,
Love is the gate
Where fate lives kind.
Don't be blind then
As fancy stalks,
You must know when
To walk your talk.
Don't fear the truth
That sets you free,
Live ample proof
As love funds spree.
Leon Enriquez
19 September 2018
Singapore
Polarizing the Populous
Heaven’s tide is far and wide as they manage in their malevolent mockery
Their hands are tied and losing pride, dining without candelabra crockery
In a calamitous chasm their dreams in spasm as they awaken the nightmare
Scrapes of sarcasm thrown by the pious phantasm as they look to compare
In a silken state the high adjourn and arbitrate for they conquer and divide
In their cure to annihilate they castrate the mirroring images that they hide
They adorn as they scorn the lonely for their wrathful worship falls to ground
In their obsessive opulence with protruding corpulence sins that compound
In a vicarious void, the mighty have employed sewn surrogates as their slaves
Their will destroyed and must avoid the gravitational grieving to their graves
In their impulsive impetus using stimulus, they must be freed from their chains
Upon leaving inept infelicitous ideas by timorous travel thus exult in their pains.
Aug.15.2018
Eight word challenge-8
Sponsored by: John Hamilton
Placed 3'rd
Frame fragrant feel
Wear wealthy will
Lift lavish leap
Dance dazzle deep
Face floating fare
Wear wholesome ware
Words welcome writes
Cheer clever cites
Feel finesse frame
Glimpse gaudy game
Frustrate fluke fear
Castrate crude cheer
Void vicious vibes
Treat troubling tribe
Watch wonder work
Jest jostles jerk
Fond finesse frames
Note nature name
Glimpse gracious good
Meet mindful mood
Be beyond blame
Nurture nice name
Leon Enriquez
23 July 2018
Singapore
Demonically Dispossessed
...man has the ability to express great love,
and dispense great evil...
The legions of darkness descend as they beastly bewilder and offend
The serpents of Babylon attend as their ecumenical evil does extend
In a pandemonium plunge with pernicious pains and succulent sponge
With tenacious tongues they lunge and fast fade away as they expunge
~~~
In their fallacious faculties fermenting feces frolicking the wasteland
Demonic disciples preach profanities before the sanguineous sand
As they efficiently eviscerate exigently under their hellion command
For they are curious to castrate the condemned as their cries demand
~~~
Within their taunting tantalize as hearts bleed amidst the scarlet skies
Their goal the soul to compromise and for love to cripple and capsize
In a vortex venomous vile blasphemous broods of a damnation defile
For we must battle the bile as warriors of light with a sagacious smile.
Music by Slipknot-'The devil in I'
June.28.2018
Eight word challenge-7
Sponsored by: John Hamilton
Placed 2'nd
(after Théophile Gautier)
Carmen is sleek and slender, with a trace
of gypsy swarthiness around her eyes.
That sinister black hair engulfs her face.
There's something hellish in those slick brown thighs.
When women look at her, they call her plain,
but men surrender reason. Elle divirilise.
The Bishop of Toledo, now, is saying
a Mass for Carmen on stiff, painful knees.
About her amber neck a heavy twine
of thick, black hair coils downward, and it serves,
when she is in her alcove, nude, reclined,
as her voluptuous scarf, enhancing curves.
From that unblemished marble face explodes
the crimson-painted grin of a heartless winner.
behind one ear, her fleshy scarlet rose
has sucked the sap from souls of hopeless sinners.
With that bewitching shape, the morenita
outstrips with ease the pale society beauties.
Internal cruel geysers easily heat her
dark eyes, which force the fallen back to duty.
She has, within that vulgar, cheap allure
some acrid grains, some venomous sharp flecks
from Aphrodite's sea, from which The Whore
once squirmed, to castrate us all with sex.
I met my daughter's boyfriend and he's a thug.
He's a low life piece of trash who deals drugs.
When I told him to leave my house, he pulled out a knife.
He thought he was bad, he thought I would beg for my life.
That piece of scum thought he could scare me, that is what he believed.
I kicked the knife out of his hand and a beating was what he received.
I punched him over and over and gave him seven karate chops.
He fell to the floor and you should've seen how fast he dropped.
He became my daughter's ex-boyfriend after I threw him out the door.
Now she's mad at me because guys are too scared to ask her out anymore.
Low life dirtbags are the only type of guys that my daughter will date.
If she brings another boy to my house, he's someone who I'll castrate.
(This is a fictional poem.)
Loss answers in wind
I think of the card she sent
Dipped in her perfume, her tears
Purple motif, ink, iris
Drops of blood of hers
She wanted me to leave her
From front to back she wrote sad
Pouring her hurt soul in words
She lived on, but died
This was back in eighty five
She wrote she was moving on
Going back to school, start fresh
Driftwood she became
Our lives parallel since then
No branches on tree of dreams
Shameful wasted lives of claim
Did she give up life
Have thirty year depression
Castrate for the pain I caused
Die on the cross to repent
Loss answers in wind
connie pachecho
1/7/16
must refuse relegation, obey
only the roar of our own angels, then reshape
breastplates to shield the motherland
from any warlord who dares
to pimp our flag.
Battlefields have always been a woman’s place,
We were born to bleed, to fight-
off advances, to heal from the inside-out.
We, nasty, nasty women
who dare castrate filibusters, know grit,
audacity, the combat for higher grounds.
History is lit by an army of fiery
heroines, burnt at stakes by low-life
aristocrats, suckling-pig-kings.
We, Nasty women rise from ashes
to become better-armed daughters,
knightmares, hallowed witches on frontlines,
glorious, undefeated legends.
After Jeanne d'Arc et Saint-Michel by Eugene Thirion, painting seen above
RAPE ON SONGHAI
Washington, Washington, their Washington
With a great hot flaming phallus in hand
Griped so tight, knuckles turn pale
You shield it up with the hood of this new religion
And thrust hard, deep, tearing Songhai’s hymen
This rape of dignity and pride, she breeds
You told Africa; Man, I come to circumcise
He closed his eyes to the pain, you castrate him
The hurtful ******* baptism of allegiance
Now, his sex starved Nimpho wives turn whores for you
Him no more but a Eunuch attending your models
Yet, you come back to a breeding Songhai
Have you no shame left in your dangling scrotum
Or you are again moved by your evil lustful greed?
Clam your laps and cover your thicket thighs
Use these black shrubs and hide your nudity
This Washington Devil has gone nuts with lust
Take your shame and cover your bare ****
He is cunning, will even pluck your ****
His phallus is hot with flames, can only sheathe
Thro’ your valley of juices, block your pots
Washington, please, hook your religion between your laps
Can’t you see she is in pains of your civilization
And breeding from the wounds your democracy inflicts
When your huge phallus tore her vagina walls?
She could smell the scent of the other woman on him. A sickening musty, sweet smell.
She wanted to lunge at him and snatch out his cheating heart.
She wanted to scratch out his light brown roaming eyes.
She wanted to castrate him and put his member in a box and let it rot.
She wanted to chop off his hands that fumble over that hussy's
body.
She wanted to saw off both of his feet that carried him to the place where they meet.
She wanted to put a hot iron to his luscious thick black lips.
Instead, she excepted his offensive lies.
She urges him to lie next to her.
She kissed his light brown eyes that looked at her longingly for
forgiveness.
She kissed his warm luscious thick lips.
She anxiously welcomed his caresses.
She could feel his throbbing manhood nudge at her feverish body.
She was in flight.
I sank into the depths of marbled
Frustration.
Canonized in furrowed gasps,
I claimed my own footsteps were thieves.
We all skulk slunk-shouldered to the same sorrowful shore.
Though it ain’t all that bad.
Look through the lightened leaves
The maple glow will warm your
Foiled, flagrant, tired eyes.
If you are not your own era,
Bring your illusions to the foreground and
Castrate your deadened pride.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.