Long Sadistically Poems
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Beautiful Ones
Aloft in the steam, they look like Eagles.
Perched now on the edge of the bowl,
proud courtesies peck the kind and meek
with true meanings and Premier trophies.
Unprecedented vanity creates illusion
with self appointed monarchs.
Court jesters perform a merry dance
patronizing peasants.
Draws the gaze towards the stage,
demands the ‘groundlings’ awe.
Under their script, the knees bend
as truth is removed by deleted scenes.
Kings and queens laugh sadistically
offering a standing ovation, but
festivities are interrupted abruptly,
as valiant knights rebel against oppression.
Disrobed, their crowns become
spears through the sternum’s shield,
impales hearts that only bleed
weak fallacies and pretentious devices.
As their guise becomes clear,
anemic vultures are revealed.
Perched upon a bowl of blood,
anticipating their next persecution.
-------------------------------------------
A collaboration with Silent One
Inspired by the Globe Theatre
05.16.16
Methinks muss elf akin to a cold prickly...
being analogous to a
limp biscuit viz
wussy wonky willy,
yet back in the day
rolling in hay worm
may at large cavorted
frolicked, and idealized
as a warm fuzzy.
Though aforementioned title
slightly risqué and silly,
yours truly dwells in Schwenksville,
approximately an hour drive
northwest from Philly,
a geographic enclave flush with
seeds of life and White Lily
hometown of mine reminiscent
of Lake Woebegone
similarly verdant and hilly.
Today I bubble with gumption and glee
riding a crest of carefree euphoria prithee
within Netherlands home to Zuiderzee.
Now yours truly lets thoughts unspool
as they popup like mushrooms
after a soaking rain
and flash across consciousness
hoping to hammer somewhat
comprehensible poetic product
wrought courtesy tool
of me noggin
stream of consciousness school
meanders and follows no particular rule.
Despite being rescued
from blimey and bloody
ten thousand cannibals yippee,
where before escaping xi
shark infested cyber sea,
I nearly fell prey to piranhas we
dulling their way think valley
girls enlisting themselves
to be worshipped
as omnipotent trustee
trumpeting themselves
as shaykhah of chic re:
to do bidding of commoners
heavily guarding, ousting,
and thwarting stiff contenders
for commodification, commiseration,
commercialization, communication
and glory of riches q.e.d.,
quod erat demonstrandum
selling one soul to the devil
what a pity
exploitation, juxtaposition, opposition
temptation teasing proletariat offeree,
who seductively utter née
all the while vicarious thrilling
analogous to shady subterfuges
within dark wide web
bloodhounds (created courtesy
artificial intelligence) ripping asunder
supposedly airtight code,
while proficient hackers punching
virtual holes at Norton and McAfee
and other logistics wizards to protect data
laugh demonically, hysterically,
maniacally, sadistically, and zestfully
at those payees party as licensee
guardians of regal materialistic realm
do as I saith - speaketh bourgeoisie.
Why do Presidents
work out better
safer
healthier
when they insist on remaining
persist in reclaiming
active grassrooted residents?
Cooperative property administration health values
are rooted
in eco-cooperative wealth
PolyCultural Values
from regeneratively safe experience
with resilient
and resonant,
CoPassionate Left/Right
West/East
Capital/EmBodied
Ego/EcoSystemic
bicamerally therapeutic
polyvagal EarthTribe
neurosystemic balance
While recovering
from LeftBrain capital presiding dominance
we begin to explore
RightWing hot red prominence
as too anthrosupremacist,
dissociatively white male straight-line monotheistic,
sadistically against ecofeminist cooperatives
left smirking,
rolling eyes
and roiling panentheistic ears
silently against monopolistic colonists
armed and ready to engage
lose/lose military weapons
Before reconsidering
healthier and green systemic
polycultural resilience
Wealthier
nonviolent bicameral communi-nations
reconsidering vaguely integral
fractal
dialectical
4-Square spiraling
interactive spectral notions
Healthy democratic
win/win game engaging
religiously multicultural health
and strategically appropriate safety
In economically green
ecological administrations
teaching polycultural governing resonance
Of Both/And
not-not positive
dipolar co-arising co-alternatives
explored through grassrooted
therapeutic win/win anticipation
Does more than equal
Either/Or unmusical competitions
LeftBrain dominant
pointing anxiously downstream
toward lose/lose deep
dark anthrosupremacist
narcissistic
dissociative
Straight Western WhiteMale
climatic monoculturing trauma
history of dark Earth Days
not so greenly healthy
or safely wealthy
post-industriously
Immersed in presiding
over LeftBrain
increasingly RightWing
competitively dominant
win/lose narratives
devoid of Sacred EarthTribe
recreation stories
Ignoring prehistoric songs
and dances
engaging pre-verbalized
indigenous DNA systemic
co-governing structures
Dialogical
fractal presidential patterns
regeneratively
residentially restructured
Building
and rebuilding resilient
polyvagally systemic win/win
strategic playground wisdom.
A million reasons as to why I cannot sleep,
For the clouds are gone and the moon shines bright,
It feels as it wants to spite,
The thing it clings to most,
A feeling so sadistically shuttering in your mind,
That makes you want to climb away,
To the place that is to faraway for you to see,
A term we hear for more often then not,
Count your blessings,
But for some reason I cannot,
I feel as if the sky is falling and I am alone,
And when counting my blessings I feel as if I am gloating my utter existence,
So as I try to fall asleep trying to find the place that is so faraway in my mind,
I look to the sky in search,
For the place that is so faraway.
In a world full of love
Why do I feel hate
Everytime I look down the field
I see a closed gate
In this peaceful world there's people
Full of good n bad
Fighting a useless war everywhere
Over something they never had
The Angels full of peace n love
Shedding continuous tears above
While the demons in hell
Laugh sadistically as if under a spell
Innocent people dying every day
Shedding blood in a wasteful way
No is willing to stop the fights
Even when they say it's not right
What can one man do in a war filled world
When everything possible aside is hurled
How does one stop the pain
When he has nothing else to gain
I hope the fighting is stopped soon
Or earth will be as barren as the moon
If tht happens will be a big disgrace
Cuz it'll be the end of the human race
I thought you were gonna accept me for who I am and who I am to
become
But, you abandoned me…now I’m a lost lamb…feeling numb and dumb
Sadistically, you glared at me with fire in your eyes…I look at the Lord of
the Flies
Straight in the eye…my heart pounding in my chest violently & desperately
You shot me with your angst and envy – I’m sick of hearing your lies
You pulled the trigger without any warning…I’m befriending despondency
Pound to the rhythm of my heart…my heart… (oooh…oooh…x3)
Pound to the rhythm of my heart…my heart…
Take a breath, look at me…don’t you see my misery?
You broke my young heart apart…take heart…
The scent of death – I smell the odor seeping out of your mouth…
I cover my nose…I’m feeling down, sucking up my emotional debris
Do you even see the tears rolling out of my eyes?
Pound to the rhythm of my heart…my heart… (oooh…oooh…x3)
You really think that I’m a weakling? Didn’t you see me triumphantly soar?
(I don’t feel sorry for you…you attention whore – why were you the one I
adore?)
I am not a coward and I am not scared of you – you made me love you
I know my heart is breaking bit by bit, but I’m stronger that I was before
(I’m not sore anymore – I don’t love you anymore…you hurt me to the core,
but I opened a new door)
I’m through with you…I gave up on you – you made me weep tears of rue
Pound to the rhythm of my heart…my heart… (oooh…oooh…x3)
Do you feel for me or do you ignore me like the rest?
I’ll try my best, darling, to pass the test that I detest
I hate the thought of you leaving my side…I’m on my own
I loathe the thought of you passing me by…I’m not alone
Pound to the rhythm of my heart…my heart… (oooh…oooh…x3)
Pound to the rhythm of my heart…my heart…
Take a breath, look at me…don’t you see my misery?
Do believe me – it’s not even close to a work of art
But, baby, I believe in you, taking wing from on high gaily
Pound to the rhythm of my heart…my heart… (oooh…oooh…x3)
Ironclad choke hold tightened
around pencil necked geek
stranglehold noose asphyxiated
courtesy mailer daemon freak
specifically America Online
server gremlin sought out meek
resplendently attired as Doctor sheikh
wordsmith scouted out as weak
cussed link within human league
surprisingly springing thru Lenovo
external screen, simulating sneak
issuing nary soundcloud when tweek
king "FAKE" childish
ploy regarding peek
a boo as preschool prankish charade,
emulating, feigning, gamboling as mystique.
Little did yours truly discern
unsavory fated deaf fete
incorporating cunning linguistic deceit,
whereat innocent naivete scourge did mete
undeserved pummeling thrashed thinker
savagely, sadistically, and sacrificially beat
mastah to bloody pulp frequent visitor
courtesy aforesaid web portal
unexpected encountering
heinous nemesis greet
ting this chap with
suspicious groovy and neat
out of vogue colloquialisms
circa nineteen seventies
dead giveaway handy dandy
blues clues poetic feet
toe tilly tubular (iambic pentameter)
maintaining quite exemplary
skill for Pete
sakes, blindsided,
hoodwinked, outsmarted...
mine acute intuitive
perception, albeit fleet
tin gully as laxative courses
thru lower gastrointestinal
tract analogous to
GoLytely/PEG Solution
preprepatory for gastroenterologist
to ass esse seat
of pants anatomy i.e.
derriere, whether polyps
populate and remove
if necessary tenamount
to separating chaff from wheat,
and if all's well that ends
well patient with sore tuckus,
nonetheless rearing
to experience healthy
gluteus maximus treat
ting him/herself to feast
like gourmand and eat...
dagnabbit blasting impish,
where dark shadows
house outer limits of twilight zone
pestiferous heterosexual binary
bugaboo with chutzpah
nabbed against gangland
style angry bird
twittering parakeet.
"Once upon a midnight Poe"
Underneath the midnight mask, I remove the makeup at last,
The moon is an anvil to my mood, mooring along the vacant vast
I lay the Gin and Tonic by the bedside asking for more,
I hear a noise, a lost voice, the echoes of no rejoicing,
I couldn't brush the light coming from the cracks under the door
I gave it some thought,
My eyes twinkle, towards the tinsel tiles on the floor
Seemingly the light seemed to be deeming the distance of resistance
Curiosity came in crawling and caressing
To sense and taste of sinful skin
Everything then grew thinner than thin
On the spur of the moment, I hear a whisper, my love is near
"Darkness there, and nothing more."
A nerve impulse hits the wall if nothing nary, nevertheless
I sadistically, stagger a sullen movement, even so
At this moment, Edgar Whispered, "Nothing more."
Many nights, I dream of demonic demons, demanding answers for
A sad --sadder voice sits and whines, with the wind
"Merely this and nothing more!"
A notary, nauseate moment, seasick, shipwreck sensation
Secular suicide spreading like gossip, sailing through my veins
Evilly and twisted, "This it is and nothing more" - remains
Tweaking and repeating, the speeding of needing
My drugs of pain and passion, to end the delusion
Of the self-inflicted - bruising from the voices of my choices
I hear the whisper, a selfish whisper, asking for Lenore
How many nights, he comes into my room, dress like A Raven
Painted and tainted like the midnight dreary
Reciting the excitement like The Bells, of Annabel, in a rush
Never, never, nameless here forevermore, in my dreams
Under my evil-doing skin, like the sum of sin is how it seems
On the nights, my soul mate does not appear,
The anchor drowns and torments me with tears
I travel up in fear, of the fear, when my ghost is not near
Rattling and trembling, by the bedside,
On the grim side of the mental moon, when in gloom
I scrape up my room, screaming at the bleeding,
From my heart, who needs a killing,
From a feeding and the feeling of letting one, go!
Incorrigible Recalcitrant - Doppelganger (mine)
Ala Goofus and Gallant
highlights my diametrically
divergent alter egos
always the reserved
obedient docile boy
afeared to stray outside narrow
circumscribed comfort zone
figuratively tethered
extremely short leash
choked me like yoked oxen,
albeit non red dually bullish
under bated breath
otherwise submissive
internalizing fury and rage
relentlessly lambasted
daily school bus ride
analogous highway to hell,
thus envisioned monstrous physique
linkedin to superpowers...
whereby giant beastie boy
within scrawny nerd
visiting jocular comeuppance
bopping "jocks" on their beanies
with rotten tangerines
(Tom Lehrer would be proud)
knocking senseless nasty brutes
gleefully pummeling rapscallions
casually, heroically avenging
purging immediate threat
while smugly jauntily
relishing carefree blessed awesome
fistpumping air joyous ride
duplicating bad ass daring
do dexterously doubling
(wishful) dream come true
one prior pipsqueak - yours truly
punishing pestiferous classmates,
who sadistically doled
out daily dose,
non USDA approved
cavalier fierce injustice
taken aback when mine knuckles
compress hoodlums opprobrious
wicked yakking (actually silenced)
fountainhead spewing toxins
exuberantly effusively ebulliently
cleaning principle ringleader's clocks
at long last
traumatizing measure for measure
antagonistic arch nemesis
inflicting insufferable torment
once passively quaffed ruffians threats,
now all's well that ends well,
no matter yours truly expelled
forever pleasantly humming
merrily merrily, merrily,
merrily, imagined life
tis but a dream.
Lately I've been a sh*tty friend.
I haven't been in therapy for a few months,
and I can tell need to go back.
I am so, so angry.
I wish I could pressure wash the thoughts from my mind.
It is 10:53pm on August 8th.
Yesterday, I had 6 of my broken teeth fixed at the dentist.
A year ago today,
My ex hit me in the face before bed.
I stood up to leave,
I tried to push past him,
and he screamed into my ear;
"DON'T YOU F*CKIN DO THAT. GET IN THE F*CKIN BED."
I got into the bed.
4 days later,
361 days ago,
He threw me on the floor,
Then he kicked me repeatedly.
I still had to stand at the BBQ and make dinner afterward.
I do not miss these things.
I do not miss him hurting me.
I do miss him buying me flowers, though.
I only miss the kind things he did,
and he only did those things after he hurt me.
I am furious with myself for this.
My rage is spilling over in all directions.
I feel bad for my friends for knowing me.
I wish I could direct my anger solely at him,
But I cannot do that when part of me misses him.
The anger trampolines its way back at me.
I want to tell him he's horrible.
I want to tell him I can't believe I ever thought he really loved me.
I want to tell him that he acted sadistically,
that he lacks a soul, or empathy,
and that I hope someone kicks him in the face while he's crying on the floor.
I want to say Karma's a way bigger b*tch than I ever was,
and now she's got your number, you prick.
I am angry that I cannot.
I cannot afford to have contact with him.
It would hurt me, not help me.
Regardless of this,
I draft him hateful emails.
I will never be able to hit send.
I have so much anger inside me,
It's making me a sh*tty friend.