sweltering summer sunshine
Even as wind, horrid whistling
Met with, leaves us then
Shivering for, hours later
As affrighted men
So does a torment, traced from down
Some hall, historical
Produce numbness. Only Time-blown.
If out of recall.
Our history is horrid
yet history is our knowledge
wisdom we have borrowed
priceless today and tomorrow
Horrors seen of every race
in every place at everytime
inherited within a space
a lesson left behind
Examples of what happened there
sampled so we'd be aware
ample failure left too scare
stop us falling down the stairs
History should not offend
you were not there living
History will never end
as it offers new beginning
I study the glass
The troubling sight
But can’t see past
The horrid fright
The soul I see
Is not my own
It couldn’t be
This isn’t home
I count the lines
Brow to chin
Afraid to find
Who dwells within
Deep down I know
I’m losing touch
We change and grow
I know this much
But when it’s time
For your descend
You won’t feel fine
But might pretend
-Horrid Sins-
YOU!!!
Your sins are Horrid
So horrid
Talk to The Dark Sun
He’ll fix your horrid sins
They’re so horrid
Your sins are so horrid
Like a wingless bird flying in the dark sky
Your sins are so horrid
Like a fish swimming in an acid lake
Your sins are so horrid
Like a pot water that’s NOT BOILING
YOUR SINS ARE SO HORRID
You need to fix this
The Dark Sun will help
He’s the God O’ Dystopia
He’ll fix your sins
He caused the day to turn night
He blocked the sun
You fix your sins
Or you join the world
OF DYSTOPIA!!!
All because of your horrid sins
A horrid old woman, mean, word cantankerous would have been too nice.
Mrs. V. would have stolen your pocket book, more than once, maybe thrice.
She had no integrity, certainly no thoughts of anyone else.
She was an angry woman, who always thought only of herself.
If you had tripped, and fallen over a jagged, rusty, old stick.
She would have laughed hard. She would have made fun of you,
mean and so thick.
She would have kicked you while you were down,
perhaps punched you down the hall.
She would have slapped her knee to have seen you take that horrible fall.
Mrs. V’s funeral was held on a cloudy, bleak, let’s-all-go-to-hell day.
Six of us huddled together, trying to think of a reason to pray.
The perfect weather for her, the five said who resentfully attended.
Never nice, or kind, and certainly a newcomer she never befriended.
She was a relative, one I did not claim. Everyone knew her.
We all knew her name.
She was as mean as a bull. Being sour and dour and unhappy was her game.
The minister had met Mrs. V. once. Her language had turned his ears red.
He was one of us unhappy six who showed up just to make sure she was dead.
About Fear
Fear is a horrid emotion that makes one attentive at once,
whilst shocking the heart to beat hard—fast and faster!
It causes an ill-feeling and a sense of terrible foreboding,
which can instantly provoke some unintended responses.
Fear has its own unique spirit that can paralyze us cold,
whilst clouding our judgment and inciting a raw rage.
It has that lurking quality in the shadows of the mind,
that can spark moments of terror and abject uncertainty.
Fear possesses a ghastly aura that shows no mercy and
can engulf and literally devour the depths of one’s soul.
The only solution, if indeed there is one, is to resist fear’s
evil to the uttermost before your soul is destroyed forever!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
November 28, 2018 (Couplet)
Making sense of a horrid smell
I want to let off a loud yell
Cause its very bad
Her foot, just a tad
Stepped into the dog’s poop, oh well
Russell Sivey
Beneath the shallow sea,
something rests on the wet
sands, waiting to be discovered
Yes, yes, a horrid skull it is,
with its jaws wide open,
revealing fangs that can only befit
a vampire
Questions haunt my conscience
of whether it's a pirate vampire
or a mermaid vampire.......
Lonely the skull rests on the sea floor,
waiting to open a creepy door
that might frighten the mermaids and fish away
Date: 08/08/2014
Love sick is a horrid hang-up,
to know that no one with call you,
or no one cares for you not one living thing;
Not even a snail moving slowly in a gutter,
or a snake slithering in desert sand pools,
not even that one beautiful girl with diamond eyes;
not one will ever come and just talk.
I hear the birds talking back and forth to each other,
five in the morning in the cool dawn morning;
I think they talk of me- (who is that brown-eyed boy,
-who cries such tears of sorrow-)
I don't think that though- they must be talking of the morning sunrise.
They might not even know that I'm down here thinking of them up there-
-or do they?)
.2.23.2014.
She is one that hurts
For she was one that was made
Fun of during this
Time of the year, Halloween
Was not kind to her, she hurts
A witch she’s just not
Nor is she a Frankenstein
She is not a bat
Nor a skeleton is she
She doesn’t fit in right now
Though all the other
Days of the year, she’s a freak
Different person
Nature has played a cruel joke
And she hurts from within her
So on the day at
Which she could fit in the most
She abhors with pain
For it just reminds her of
Her ailment, the horrid truth
Russell Sivey
In the night desires
Next to the fireplace I sit
Looking at the fright
Items designed to bring fear
To instill them in my heart
The witches on top
Of the black enhanced mantel
Seem to stare at me
Black hats with purple ribbon
And the witch’s red ruby shoes
This brings fear to me
A horrid touch, scary fright
The witch’s harmful eyes
Burning brightly inside me
Causes me to falter and cry
Russell Sivey
No matter how fast one treks toward their future.
Their past always has an open invitation into their present!
HORRID HARMONY
She’s a horrible lady who does horrible things
But man, the lithe little lady sings
She’ll bend a note while you lend an ear
And her falsetto is something you really must hear
She’s an insolent woman with wicked ways
She wants to be worshipped but never prays
Yet she makes every song seem a lullaby
Until her finale begins to make you cry
The refrain didn’t cause too much pain
But on her sheet music there’s an indelible stain
She’ll sing a love song and make you think it’s especially for you
But men will attest to the fact that she sang it to more than few
It’s not so much in her isolating eyes
It’s not so much that she’s so very wise
It’s not so much a future of her dalliances and flings
Because I’m telling you there’s no escaping her once the horrid lady sings
© 2011.….Phreepoetree ~free cee!~
Listen to my heartbeat sounds
As my soul travels inside
I scream at its horrid path
Death would swiftly come
Russell Sivey
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