Long Rebut Poems

In hell is called Malebolge a site
Completely made of ferrous color stones  
As almost all the rim around looks quite.

Of the malignant field the middle zones
Are the seat for a well much wide and...

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By Stanley Collymore

Never speak ill of the dead we’re constantly and solemnly
exhorted regardless of who they are or the life that
they freely chose to live, as they’re no longer
around, is the lame and unconvincing excuse
that’s...

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The birth of a kid is just an adventure
Which has its start about nine months before 
After an instant of joy or of  venture,

When seed of man is reaching up its score
In the twisty...

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Silent, alone, with no mates at all
We went on there one forth the other back,
Like the minor friars a narrow way crawl.

Of the Aesop’s tale was now on the track
My thought after the previous seen...

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Do you know? where's the soul in a physical body?
                         ...

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I objestigate between arabesques and sleep,
fugaciously spasmodic in fluxes and leaps.
I'm indifferent to the misanthropic mocking,
that welltering inflection that I call plockingism.
It's their cheeky syncopated schisms that I rebut,
and yet they slantathunt for the right...

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God's Plan
God has His plan
Of this you are told
And on this concept
All believers are sold

It’s easy to say, “That’s part of God’s plan.”
When things are going well.
But no one thanks Him for things awry
That part...

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Rejection of worldly goods has been seen
as means for spiritual growth, to lead
a life in balance with HIS will, to wean
every material thing with no greed.

It's said, the poverty of spirit freed
one to empty of...

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Softer than a baby's breath
Lighter still than pale

I watch you struggle with
 the dying of your light against it hear you rale

Eternity set  solidly into the heart
A rare and precious stone

We leave as we...

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So if you think the Bible was bad with the Demons within
Think of the parasites in your guts carrying their bad Jinn

All these events of mass shooters killing off all the kinfolk
Some blame medication, water...

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Writing poetry that comes to me when
Thoughts come around as in a rut 
Distress fills those cogs again and again
Excellent to write, and not to rebut

Thoughts come around as in a rut
Writing distracts from most...

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Sitting here exhausted. Exhausted and drained. 
Exhausted and drained and beat.
I battled and dueled with insomnia all night,
And now I can touch defeat.

I parried with anxiety. I danced with turmoil. 
My mind was up for...

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New Year


Will there be a new solution
Or old problems’ dissolution
With New Year’s resolution
When to all that we loath
Including hearken to the froth
Bow and take the rebut oath? 	

Have we learned to jump
Where our toe hit...

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I feel no pain I know no fear.

I'm just a tool for war I can't shed no tears.

But is this the life that I'm suppose to live.

They said I can make it if I just...

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“What is this strange place we find ourselves in
Trapped in the open, we are free within” 

----------

Trapped out in the open
By hope beyond hoping,
Desperately groping
Down passages sloping:
We've been here before.

We're faintly perceiving,
Our senses deceiving,
Till monsters,...

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The world, once a seemingly small place, expands and grows with you.
Bigger, more vast, scarier.
How is one to find their place?

Searching for motivation--forward momentum, I crumble.
I sink into the abyss that is my life.
Smaller, more...

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Our ego’s impulse~
attract and repulse
both desire and fear,
deeming body dear.

The rot’s sunk in deep;
how’ll we take the leap?
Drop the bag of grief;
give soul some relief.

Vicious is each cut,
harsh words that rebut
love seeking love’s touch,
rebuffed by...

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Is victory there?					
                                ...

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Taking seminars in relationships,
designed to make you more considerate,
does not belay your own apocalypse,
nor offers up a tangible rebut
to your self-pity and isolation.
You numb yourself to life with drugs you choose,
preferring to be drunk or...

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What foul wind has blown them shut
Let shadowed fingers seize a heart
Silence the drumming beat of truth
Closed the doors betwixt age and youth

How has the acrid stench of doubt
Cauterized once open minds
Denying all but what...

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