Long Mercilessly Poems
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Blood-stained poppies mark the day that human
sacrifice did harden the skins of the less murderous mass
for such a brutal aghast affair, how the God all mighty
would formidable bear witness to grief beyond repair
Out into the fields, neither would yield-with bullets they
would tear but what would a stealthy, shrewd general care if many
died on duty which left a nation dumbfounded by the levity and
gravity of a war that was deemed
to be of grandness, valiant soldiers of fallacious valour
mercilessly gunned down and with
no gratification, them forsaken, while the gutless
general is less sanctimonious, pious in his approach for the
fighting did persist, until finally that last shot,
at last serenity in the calamitous storm, birdsong instead
of less fanciful peaceful flight, that night the serendipitous surviving
soldier did sleep so tight, a nation did succumb to pitiful sorrow
and pain-so the poppies do denote blood-stain and brutal,
grim, gutless gain
Why, if having a heart and heaving with its flow
On high tides, riding its waves with a majestic pretence
And accepting its falls with humble palms
Makes of me a fool, one stupid enough as to be used,
Pray, know that my feelings, in the very end, are that
Which allow me to live, as humanly as anyone on Earth would!
My pains are similar to those felt by the rest of the world
Same goes for my joys,
And that makes of life a prison, senseless and meaningless,
Revolving on itself without purpose, taking us
There where the road ends, propelling us not on the way forward,
Rather, pushing us back to those same bold waves we have been
Riding on!
Is this the essence of life then? whispered my tears to the wind,
We fight battles that are not worth fighting for,
We stress ourselves out only to emerge as losers
Why, we live, only to die, as if we were raw materials, needed
To create products, which once used, and abused of,
Can be recycled, mercilessly!
If this is life's meaning, then, pray, glorious be Inexistence's peace!
27 Feb 2019
poetry eludes my soul
when I desperately want to embrace it
when I watch dahlias blossom and dance in the wind
poetry glowing in my mind dances too
when at tranquil dawn idly lying in bed
I listen to pitter-patter of falling raindrops
when sun-god appears on his chariot driven by seven horses
illuminate horizon turning sky into flaming vermillion crimson
with my elated heart I dream poetry
poetry abandons me
when at darkest of nights I stay awake looking at the bare ceiling
wonder why unfair and cruel words still cut me mercilessly like a knife
why do I feel like a candle inside me melting till there is nothing left
fragile petals of a wilting rose ruthlessly sprawled on the hard ground
why do teardrops fall like tiniest pearls created by hurt and suffering
in a poverty-stricken country early quiet morning crows caw harshly
the young boy I see on the streets painting the exterior of a building
a torn shirt on a skeleton body shivering from biting cold
beyond my comprehension how he survives
poetry leaves me
“The villains were always ugly in books and movies. Necessarily so, it seemed. Because if they were attractive—if their looks matched their charm and their cunning—they wouldn't only be dangerous. They would be irresistible.”
Nenia Campbell, Horrorscape
Be leery of the person
whose charm can be deceptive.
To this person do not be
overly receptive!
A man who’s always giving
compliments and praise
sometimes is a devil.
With people’s minds he plays.
Most people know the stories
of Ted Bundy, handsome man.
Behind all his charisma
he had a master plan.
With a smile on his face,
he lured each hapless female
he murdered mercilessly.
He twice escaped from jail!
Another man who practiced
charisma was so sly!
On a little girl named Jan
this monster had his eye.
He made friends with her family
and ruined poor Jan’s life,
seducing that kid’s father
and the father’s wife!
Yes, both the young girl’s parents
were under this man’s spell.
And that’s why he was able
to groom their daughter well.
He kidnapped Jan and tortured her.
He had the whole town fooled!
The parents, falling for his tricks,
were later ridiculed.
A person with charisma
might be a sociopath.
Take care to never be led down
this monster’s wicked path.
Feb. 3, 2023
For Writing Challenge - C Words - Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Inspired by documentaries on Ted Bundy and a recent series called "A Friend of the Family"
Deprived of your love, I carry the burden of deep shadows under my eyes,
with crow's feet drawing the story of endless nights on my face,
where each lie was your illusion, born from the confusion surrounding me,
elusive and fragile, a dance of amorphous metaphors unraveling in the wind,
subjected to your disdain, your words mercilessly cutting my soul,
deriding my appearance and my intellect,
as I fell into the abyss of silence, searching for a point of support.
Mockery does not suit my face, where my lips are cracked with thirst,
a river once full of life, now silent under a shroud of unfulfilled longing,
my vibrant nature now buried under a layer of heavy melancholy,
leaving a cardboard moon, devoid of its usual shine,
stars like candles extinguished one by one, in a ballet of shadows,
no point in waiting for the sun to rise, when the end seems to have come,
the world stopped in its rotation under the heavy, leaden clouds of forgetfulness.
Unfulfilled expectations, all my momentum scattered to the wind,
my spirit is apathetic, my inner light a flame barely flickering,
now you see me, unmasked in my raw pain, in all my loneliness,
collapsing under the weight of endless torment, like a wounded and wet hawk,
rising with eagle eyes, a warrior, more determined and bold,
traveling further with unlimited reach and newfound self-esteem,
this bird, you cannot change, for its flight is eternal and unbound.
Beyond masks and shadows, my soul finds its path,
despite the storms that try to bring me down, always stronger,
always freer, guided by the light of a hope that never extinguishes.
I tell you suffering servant, weary of your days,
Do not look to the sun for hope,
Look inside your heart dear friend and find a light that helps you fight the fight
of faith until the end.
I know you cannot see a future that seems to be without,
The torment you feel inside you and your will oppressed by doubt,
But I tell you God's within you and if you fight to see her clear,
You will soar above the darkness and vanquish all your fear,
So dear brother haunted mercilessly by a desire to hang from a rope,
Do not look to the dky for hope,
Look within your heart and fly with stars above,
Sings songs of love,
And let your soul feel the sublime,
Of knowing it;s divine.
Morbid fascination (mine) as covid-19 pandemic...
foments rampant monopoly on bedlam
Wreaking ball (his stick) havoc (think ostensible
civil war scale not seen since Vietnam),
whereby microorganisms jamb
*****sapiens immunity system
complements of gook
resembling green eggs and ham
necessitating Doctor Seuss
to stoke bram
bullying cat in the hat
on a hot tin roof damn
senseless cant be understood
Matthew Scott Harris argot sham
bulls (red dilly), and sallies forth
with neither reason only rhyming flimflam.
All Joe King aside - at any rate,
yours truly, (a generic garden variety reprobate),
not hell bent to receive nasty hate
male courtesy vexatious reader to berate,
cuz unwelcome chide and chime
prompts gnome mad tick versifier
to test (ease silly) to provoke ye to fulminate.
Humanity now fishtails helter skelter
across oblate spheroid courtesy coronavirus
global pandemonium unleashed
expletive maniacal tsunami
(think) metaphorical groundswell
primates hurry scurry to and fro,
hither and yon frenziedly
pell-mell housing random erratic
discombobulated, bobble headed
(simulating) quasi Brownian movements
at warp speed embarked
upon impossible mission.
Here I paraphrase (er... rather plagiarize)
President John F. Kennedy,
whereby he delivered on January 20, 1961
his inaugural address in which he announced
"we shall pay any price, bear any burden,
meet any hardship, support any friend,
oppose any foe to assure the survival
and success of liberty."
Though the then USSR
(Union of Soviet Socialist Republics),
now identified as
union of Soviet socialist republics
helped cook who nurse (and ratchet)
state of political hostility
existed between Soviet bloc countries
and US-led Western powers
from 1945 to 1990.
Our present crisis I aim(ed) to show touché
(pardon mum oddest tee) culinary poetic entree,
how bajillions of people mercilessly
unfairly subjected to influenza like agony
exhibiting following symptoms:
cough, fever, tiredness, difficulty breathing
(severe cases), yet
many met their untimely demise
with prompt care, nonetheless minimal delay
ferried them to awaiting quay
where Charon doth ferry
dead souls across Rivers Styx and Acheron
resignedly where forced to abandon treasures they
must relinquish all trapping he/she did parlay.
Full of marketable commodities like xebec.
Waves of pure affection are slashed mercilessly.
Feelings: a sea upon which to wander carefree.
Devil swears to be a dove to trick people cursorily.
The doll dances on a string of yellow-golden hair.
It dyes its lips crimson with the blood of its lost prey.
It attracts people with its flirtatious smile and low blare.
Because of her, falls even the most religious people.
The ashes of destroyed rags cover the black eyes.
A sparkling smile covers Beelzebub's smile.
Her mistress is responsible for her spiritual slave.
A dark soul lurked deep within his radiant skin style.
Silicon's enticingly boosted slopes were xyloid-brittle.
Sword-like claws dig into the soul in sensual delight.
Obsession can be generated by female objects.
She does terrible things to helpless people fight.
The floral fantasies all turn xerophilous and prickly.
Salacious downpours became unending floods of sobs.
A terrible memory of a lost love left him feeling empty.
The reverberation of her laughing still throbs.
Written: September 15, 2022
Tragi comedy Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joe Maverick
Word bank:
*xebec-also spelled zebec, was a Mediterranean sailing ship that was used
mostly for trading.
*Beelzebub- Satan, the Devil.
*xyloid- resembling qualities of wood
*xerophilous- A xerophile is an extremophilic organism that can grow and
reproduce in conditions with low availability of water.
On the tips of our fingers
is playing, the spring
hide and seek
with colors !
But beneath our feet
no lush green grass,
only poisonous shrubs.
From the mouth of desires
uttered rain drops pattering
and, in our brains
bright red fire !
With wings widely spread
dancing, black owl the angel of death
the future though uncertain,
ignored mercilessly.
A She-swine ceaselessly, is beating
a human infant
with her sagged breast nipples.
Somebody has cruelly pinned
the fast moving time
to prehistoric wall, and
we see a surgical Knife sparkling
in time’s mighty hand.
Nights running away
on the strange streets,
an atlas of dread fear
in their flaccid eyes,
bloods trickling down the bandage
of their age old wounds.
The lives
who sleep on the foot paths
now immutable
on the canvas of the serene sky
and their eyes blank
no luster there !
On the other side of the road
tender grasses of new morn,
on the wide chest of green corn field
waves of golden paddy !
O’ the soul of this brutal time,
treacherously left your cage
the perishable body,
rampant of life;
why are you now tiptoeing
into the city of nerves
with alert steps !
We therefore pray thee,
One day,
red roses will bloom
with thousand colors of rich human spirit
on the sand beds of dried up river.
From my memory and from endless maps
I recreated my homeland to write newly upon it
And on the twenty first day, God rested for months
To ensure the world could shine darkly
The February sun shone mercilessly
As the only thing that could kill my hunger
I tasted their lips before walking into another set of credits
Ever pondering why I even bothered to perform
Endless ghosts whirled before me
As all past plot threads wrapped up nearly beneath me
Gazing into the bright Spring sun
My heart rang as hollow as ever
Twenty four and there's so much more
As an unwitting finale to permanent summer vacation dragged out
Beaten down by sun and arm in arm
We twin herobreakers drank the days away
Forever locked within my skull
My gray matter cried for what it lacked
And yet I let the waves crash down on me
To shield those who wouldn't return the favor from life
Thirteen months deep into stillness
I finally entered my field and ran
The summer sun never touched my skin
As I built and used a new TV studio
Culinary echoes bounded back at me
As the wizened elder who craved the chance
That stony faced and sleepy eyed children only took
Because they felt as though they must, rather than they could
Falsely accused with no recourse
I let my rage vanish into the aether
And lost myself within routine
As the heroic replacement I so desperately wanted to be
I took a student under my wing
And began to consider a new flight path
As this nest I came to know
Was battered by the fell wind I flew in on
And on that hill where my life was saved twice before
A dashing warlord gave me the missing piece I craved
The gentle tune of the ocarina called
And every morning, I patched what was lost
And thus the twin herobreakers merely became one
As I abandoned him to act as God
As nasty as any punch to the liver could be
When it became clear we could only bond over booze
And thus I waved goodbye to a decade of growth
Asleep at 10 with no fanfare
From every end comes a new beginning
So rest well knowing I'll remember you fondly.