an angry
alliterated agony
ferociously flowing
the treacherous
tenacious trumping tactics,
tell truth tales,
of our outrageous
pompous, pontificating potus,
holding hungry hostages,
hanging hopelessly helpless;
weary worn warriors, walled
by bigotry’s belittling:
pitiful poor panicking people,
lingering like lynched lackeys;
veiled villainous vampire
dictator, dooms
democracy, demanding
america accepts asinine,
audacious aristocracy;
when will we wake
and audaciously approach
regaining revoked rights;
evil envy, eventually eviscerated?
infectious ingrained idiocy,
can’t continuously control
conscious citizens,
purposely propelling
people power,
to triumphantly
trounce this
tainted tyranny:
pretty please,
look…listen…learn…
legal legislation!
It gifts you whatever it gifts you
And it dooms you whenever it dooms you
It hugs whenever it hugs you
And stabs your back whenever it wills to
What is it?
How dare I ask to be understood
To be heard during my blues
Why would I deserve the blooms
And not the constant dooms
Whom am I to let down that tear
Claiming to have had difficult years
When all I've had really
Are cuts to my heart like beautiful pierce
What happened did not happen
At least not how I tell the way it happened
I'm creating stories in my head to look for attention.
Oh no I'm not hurt
These are my happy tears
Because who am I to become sad..
At the world, for how it had been cruel.
Oh the nerve of myself,
To ever be depressed!
Once again l am contenplating
Why is their yet another delay
Though l should be anticipating
Thier will always be some dismay
Perhaps now l should be celebrating
The possibility of come what may
Though still finding it so frustrating
As this here not where l want to stay
As at these times it is so agrovating
When time seems to be slipping away
But seems the story of my life waiting
Looks like l will be here till dooms day
Originaly written 2014 just changed pattern
Battle axe (For the 2nd Half) ... "At last!"
Way too fast past the rescue rascal hassling haphazardly mastered dastardly bastards' fractions of captioning cast iron spiraling wired wax on wax off golf cart Bart Simpson minced garlic cubes boob tube huge goober schooner dooms Days Taser taker wafer run stun gun NOT funny honey bun for one shunned lonesome wholesome quotient potion grunt of a stunt punt the ball into mid autumn leaves fall raking reiki draped date maker place mat patty whack hacky sack crap slapped happy tap dance romance slanted jambalaya riot spliced mice diet quiet cheese, please teases on both knees bereavement easing Fort Leavenworth girth that brings birth to twerk twerps slurred slurping squirts of hurting beef Jerky lurching around the church yard disbarred and charred crash cars 100 yards too far to see scars Mars rover Range Rover Red rover come over 4 leaf clover lawn mower seed Sower leaf blower as NOT just another voter devotional spokesperson swerving tertiary but too scary hairy fairy blue berry merry go round sage turns the page safe and sound clown town brown bag the sandwich fad dude and all of that...
The rose, Nature’s fragrant
Enchanter – inspiration of poets
Our preference for themes of romantic
Banter
Embracing her velvety flutes and
And silky arm swirls
Genuflecting servingly at her sacred
Scented altar
Is there more to be said of such
Endearing essence that has not
Already been amorously written
And gushingly read?
-------------------------------------
Perhaps highlight further
Her blood-like red -- rebleed years
Of greenless stems and deeply
Penetrating barbed thorns?
Or simply allow her to be
A manifest less complex rarity
Never linking her heavily to our own
Vein letting excesses and soul shredding
dooms
Affirm royally the Rose’s purpose, above all else
Simply to reside as another of Mother's perfect garden
Blooms --
I don’t want to wall myself in with mixed-up theology,
but set myself on the narrow path towards heaven.
—quote by poet
The Journey Within
Finding out, you’re all wrong;
mixed-up theology is quaint.
Did you forget the part about suffering saints?
This is why your anger erupts;
mindful, this is the test.
Any prophet that found it profitable to
lose his own soul in “Thus saith the Lord,” dooms
followers and his “white-washed tomb” to the abyss.
The journey within finds favor with God,
not by believing in treasures on earth. Be still
and have hope amidst suffering; admit
your weakness, expose your pride; cling to the cross. Hide
your face in Jesus’ hem; don’t haw; glory
in salvation - that the Most Holy would save us.
We can get “what we don’t deserve.” This “sinner-saint”
reads the holy scriptures,
looks for the truth, abides in Christ.
I have and have not, either way I am blessed by
knowing my treasure’s in heaven,
when my journey’s complete.
La wicked bruja hechicera,
with an impious hex--
deep within the marshlands-
'neath a foul--swampy grave,
shall indeed summon
Pumpkin Head.
Rage's what he wheels,
from those who seek revenge;
Restitution for the reckless end
of a love-one, who's been slain.
Her Abyss fiend, ghastly nights
of vengeance spreads.
'Tis best and wiser yet
to kneel in silent prayer.
Repent, for it's the only tool
the hunted have to soothe
the impinging gloom
of dark that looms.
For those he stalks
don't stand a chance;
The Reaper's minion
feeds his thirst
with bloody-blugent preys,
la hechicera dooms.
Sinners atone, confronting
their fate--with a wicker fort
made faith that rots;
For pleas and screams,
like wood ablaze-only excite
his callus, morbid heart.
Condemned souls
who bear the witch's mark.
Hell hound will dissecting hunt.
For the following dawn
are found only severed heads
with bods from limbs apart.
Some people assume and say
they bring nothing on their birth
and take nothing on their way
when they leave this earth
But I strongly oppose
as I observed with perception
it isn’t odd as you suppose
and will accept without objection
The soul brings its body
to live as something in this world
either man or a lady
or an animal or a bird
At one day or so
it reaches its extremity
none can say no
to the wishes of Almighty
From this world of worries
where dooms cannot be stopped
soul from here usually carries
two sacks that can’t be dropped
Good deeds in one sack
and sin in the other
they carry on their back
to the place where all gather
The judgement is given
based on the two sacks
it goes to hell or heaven
from where it again comes back
Thus for sure I say
A soul brings a body on its birth
and takes its deeds on its way
when it leaves the earth
I believe this might be my 2nd
Dooms day poem.
In the bright of day brown grass
Dead trees
Tulips
Daisies
Lilies
Roses
Carnations
All flowers dead
Bombs bombs bombs
Boom boom BOOM!
March comes in
LET ME BEGIN AGAIN
in the bright of day
June comes soon
No more WAR!
it was such a chore but
Better clearer days ahead galore!
Roses new carnations too
Infact all flowers are magnificently
Alive! And in TUNE THEY BLOOM.
sun is shine like life look the love!
In the bright of day
Come what may!
Every child is filled with laughter
They sigh and twirl rambunctiously
Giggling more laughter HAPPILY
EVER AFTER!
Amidst the bright light and the sumptuous summer sunshine,
Why does the beam gleam of the thin rays of darkness enwrap?
The sturdiness of our bones fails, as though we've lost our spine.
Our inner sanctum is erased from our location map.
Blood clotted, mouths unable to utter secrets, we pine
With hopes and hopelessness, like eggs in a single basket,
Fate and destiny, playing their roles as per their design
We store our unfulfilled desires like gems in a casket.
Tracing the trails of the 'if you can't beat them, join them' route
Like challengers and the challenged, we tread on trodden roads.
Have the bubble, we've been blowing, a permanent pursuit?
Pessimism, through each lane, like an atomic bomb, explodes.
The closed doors of impending expectant dooms be disclosed.
Feelings of friendliness even to the foes be enclosed.
Son of the night
Remember my days with a light
Cos There is no hell for my soul
I know my kind are uncommon
So your opinion about my life matter less
I live my dreams even in my dark days
My life has it's tales of survival
I sing for love on the dark night
I chant for peace on nights of destruction
I opened the doors of loves
On the night of hates
I heard the cries of the innocent
Then my pen bleed on the nights of grieve
I refuse to run away from my night
So the spirit of the night keep revealing
The secret of dooms
Behind the closed door the night is dark
So remember my days with a light
Cos in through this long night
My soul deserves a safe heaven unknown
I know my kind is uncommon I am the
Son of the night
by Maxwell Sebastian Burchett
Some say, and believe, bad luck lurks in threes.
That a triplet of troubles and woes, even doom,
Can be expected to appear, joined in a trio for despair.
Bad luck, they say, unfolds in a three-act play,
With prologue, conflict, and ending, a trinity of troubles predict,
A superstitious claim and firm belief, that fate is to blame.
Three and three, fates agree,
Bad fortune looms, dooms in trinity.
Triple, triple superstition whispers, simple destiny.
Photography by Opal RT
A certain feature
on a creature
dooms it to extinction
Exact same thing
in writing ~
a mark of fine distinction
I'm the writer of my yarn
I am the painter of my doom
Thousands of phantoms here me warn
From opened window of my room
They walk and crawl in lane in hall
As if they from the heavens fall
They gazed and gazed but can not talk
As if there is an icy wall
Between the time of mirth and me
That not the wounds of soul can see
My haunted haunted lanes of heart!
Thou haunted by the soul divine?
O lines of hands He on thee wrought
And filled The eyes with Eden wine
I'm the scent of Eden blooms
That faint with fear of horrid Dooms
I'm the sheen of starry beams
That paint on canvas all my dreams
I'm not sad, not I complain
Of patching lips of lack of rain
My rein is in the hands of God
The first last, the Eden Lord
By Eve and Adam lost in pain
O angels we should it regain
That seat in dale of mirth and Glee
Where soul will pray in sun in rain
And float on gusts of wind so free
I'm the part of soul that gives
The throbe to heart the life to death
I'm the heart of all that lives
On earth in winds in ocean depth
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