They say she was a caring mum
and liked by all she knew;
but now she's jailed for killing folk
(and mutilated two!)
the first song I ever heard
was not listened to with ears
the rhythmic beat of your heart
was the melody I danced to…
…the whoosh of life blood, my lullaby
my heart learned the harmony
rejoicing in our sweet duet
I still hear the echo of that maternal music
the natural tempo has been bastardized
mutilated by machinery
the nerve splitting beeps that slowed
and then stopped
/\/\/\/\/\/\/ \ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\______________________
my heart mourns and aches with the loss
the dance partner and teacher I love
now, stuttering and insecure, my heart
wants the confidence of your harmony
but you taught me to sing, and now
that I teach the beat to my child,
the echo of your heart song will never die.
________/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Hidden in the valleys
Towered by mighty peaks
Lies the church of rejects
The church of those called weak
Those the powerful sent home
Out of strong belief
That they were a contaminant
Not worthy of the Chief
Rejected by mankind,
And seeking hopeful refuge
They travel long and far
To the Church who comforts me and you
They feed them bread and give them wine
And embrace them as they dine
See, the Church of rejects--
Who bear the pain of unacceptance
And watch rejection of the truth--
Is ministered by the one insulted
Humiliated
Murdered
Mutilated
Used as justification for those elected
The very men who cause rejection
Is ministered
By the one and only God above
The giver of light and truth
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I feel dissected and mutilated. Strung up on a cross and paraded through endless eyes.
As I heard a sad
story of a woman named
Elysée,
I am standing to tell the entire world about it.
The woman who knows her value.
As some mercenaries called
M23 entered her house around
a day and foced her to lay on the ground
while looking at the sky.
She listened to them and laid easily
on the floor to avoid to be slaughtered
or shot publicly.
As she refused to sleep
with some mercenaries,
She was hit,
raped,
and mutilated ...
her eyes gouged out
in the presence of her children
and husband.
I can say loud, "
Woe to these heartless
Rwandan mercenaries."
As the women celebrate today
March 8, 2025.
My call to you dear mamas and sisters,
" feel the pains of Congolese women
Oh wise women of the World.
Stand with the women of Goma
and Bukavu who are victims of daily atrocities.
So sad as many women of northern, southern
Kivu and ituri continue to be preys of some rebels
and mercenaries.
Hooves of horses thundered across the fields
Onward they came urged by murderous men
Huddled behind stout stone walls
Women and children in the halls
Tears were shed as in fear we waited
Not knowing what would happen
as evil came to our door
Where are you we cried in despair losing all hope
Would we eventually swing high on a rope.
Faith misplaced on invisible beings
We were few against a mighty force
Heat from their breath felt on our skin
Our men were doughty fighters all
Soon though they would eventually fall
Over run by superior numbers
Trampled in the dust by sharp hooves,
Cheering from throats of viscious men.
Those that survived broken and bloodied
Hung by their necks until they passed
Mutilated and despoiled now gone to their peace
Jeering victors tied us and carried away
To imprisonment in hanging gibbets
Facing all weathers and words of hate
This in the end was to be our fate.
Andrew P McIntyre. 07/01/2025 (c).
And I step out into the unknown
The rain has just begun
I gently stand up from the tree
And I begin to notice
That after all that has happened
And by love mutilated
I sit and think
How could I have lived
But, yet, for the first time
In this unjust life
From bleeding my heart has stopped
And nothing hurts anymore
And, as if it doesn't matter what they did
Back in the old days
For I have forgotten all that happened
And finally, I am reconciled with myself
They confiscated the paradox; they called it unlawful,
Carving the truth to the desired measure,
Shaming the threat and killing the unworthy.
But for years in the grayness created with blood,
Years of inhaling toxic facades and consuming revolts,
He brought jewels to her feet and worshiped
The same idea and image that everyone hated.
In a world of shadows, where words are cut,
And thoughts are shaped like clay,
Truth hides under veils of silence,
While dreams are hunted like prey in the night.
We try to see through the cracks of reality,
To find sparks of light in the dense darkness,
But the paradox, that divine gift, slips through our fingers,
In a world that prefers the silence of comfortable lies.
And yet, in our depths, we know that truth,
Though carved and mutilated, continues to breathe,
A small but unyielding flame that burns,
In the hearts of those who still dare to dream.
As threads of pale winter moonlight shine upon rippling puddles,
broken reflections stare back,
setting the scene
in lonesome streets of solitude.
A bitter, harsh wind blows in from the raging river.
Reality sets in
as goosebumps coat barren, gelid flesh,
exposing bluish, translucent veins.
Leaning against icy bricks,
my breath, like smoke, rises into the atmosphere.
Touching it with bare fingers,
I try to grab at the last semblance of warmth that reminds me,
whilst a biting silence overtakes the night.
Your voice still echoes in my mutilated ears,
replaying all my insecurities on repeat.
The darkness within could never be quelled—
this I warned you time and time again.
Save me from the flames, you tried,
but they have been licking at my soul
since I drew my first breath.
In every reincarnation, every lifetime,
I watched as it seeped into your heart,
washing away your light,
replacing hope with shame,
love mangled with hate,
until even the air around us became tainted.
Each touch more toxic than the last,
ripped apart by generational curses
placed upon my forehead at the altar of my birth.
Driving down the danger zone my destiny dies in a dead end street
Dragging dilapidated deliveries doing the Damn Demons divine deed
Distance deceives my demented disguise the dumb things I don't do
Decisions divide deep, deep inside the Devil's debt is way past due
The Mark of Madness melts away most of my meager mental mind
Masqueraded as this monster man, malicious, morbid eyes made blind
Minced meat is the aftermath of millions of marching, marching men
Mutilated in mislead miles of the massacre's modern mazes again
Frightened and forged in fear from fought fires that forever flare
Feelings flip in the floppiness as a filet fish feels in fresh air
First forget as focus fled floating fails falling to land face first
Faster the flow you freeze now froze finally your face finds free dirt
bmdavey@09/19/2024
First you get
Castigated.' Because they are?
Irritated.'
Next you get, indoctrinated through
Being educated.'
Then you'll be casterated
That gets you celebrated.'
Then you can, get trans-mutated
As truth becomes mutilated
Yet before all this goodness related
Can happen.' Did you get wormed?
And Hack-cinated.?
Only because juval haraani, needs to know??
I am a child again
I know no loss or gain
Oft oblivious of pain
Till I conscious regain.
Do I wake or sleep,
I see the stars weep
As they crackers peep,
Am I awake or asleep?
I giggle and lauugh at the sight
Of rockets of music Fountains bright
Alzmiers benumbs my plight
Yet I have heavenly insight.
No need of ball or satchel
My grandchildren play beetle
Climates hot or cold lethal
Our food comes from hotel.
Thunder lightning and rain
Sounds of toppling towers reign
Sky is filled with smoke and sign
Of corpses and mutilated mein.
Tear glands are dried up
Once I fell to get up
With ease I sat up
Fell me, I'll not get up.
I see my saviour's Rood
Crushing the Serpent's hood
With words of hope does He feed
Breaking not the bent Reed !
I go out in hood
My strength is not good
Wobbles the ground I stood
Is it second childhood ?
Just take a good look at me;
My frame is attractive!
It does the unsated
appetite of the chauvinist
fuel.
My curves and your fantasies
are mutually inclusive!
Without them, dreams
are truncated.
But I am an orgasmic
symbol.
The self opinionated chauvinist
designs me in his sub-conscious
to serve and be utterly subservient.
I am incarcerated as a chef,
and timeless baby sitter.
A baby machine for a
patriarchal dynasty.
My education is a threat to chauvinist ego.
My ignorance hones his misogynist confidence,
whilst my erudite head
retards his self esteem and worth.
The illiterate orgasmic symbol is his
ideal and virtuous woman.
The smarter and more professional
is the age-old Jezebel.
My chastity and virginity
are twin virtues of a
mutilated genitalia.
My restrained sex urges are
designed for his unrestrained
proclivities and gratification.
I must be restrained,
for him to be unrestrained,
because, share him I must
with two or three others of
my kind.
But take another good look at me,
and see a versatile womb-man!
Translate each prejudice of yours'
and see my remarkable antonyms.
or...Where's the SPCA when you need 'em?
A farmer's wife who was not very nice
Mutilated a trio of disabled mice.
Each squeaked for its life
As she wielded her knife
And disencumbered them all of their tails in a trice.
End
Close
Conclusion
Fin
Black…
It’s too late now
The dogs are asleep now
Tears are unshed now
Peace is gone now
You’re gone too now
Breathe
Shaking violently
Contorting beyond recognition
Bloodless cold
Soundless screams
Crooked broken smiles
Focus
Stop staring one-eyed ghost
Sprawled mutilated cat
It wasn’t me
I didn’t murder her
Fingerless hands did
Persist
It hurts deeply
I stabbed a child deeply
Piercing his heart deeply
Down in the deep black
I hurt me deeply
Do I live?
I need to live to die
I haven’t lived
So I won’t die
Yet I live
I killed me
Yet I live
I sleep forever
Yet I live
I’m gone from me
Yet I live
I drown endlessly
Yet I live
Knocked over again
Do I continue?
Do I continue?
Do I continue?
Can I continue?
Is it worth knowing my truth?
Is this my ending?
Blank?
Yes
No
This is the beginning
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