When the challenge has become the quest
The pressure is great to outshine
The fear tries to crawl to the surface
Again will I fall victim to my ambition
The stacks so high
In time I have months
But I want it all now
As it all sucks me in
I can't help but to panic
When all sleep goes away
I lie awake in my rebuttals
Can I become what I wish to be
Or is this mask so great
It hides all potential I have
I look at this life as an constant reminder
There is no place in this world for a quitter
I can point blame
I can ravish the truth
But the moments still remain
There's no time to waste
As this life will fade
I must remain true
And figure a way past my last self
To what this self wants to be now
Away from all that is strange
And conquer all that lie in wait
My own demon of destruction.
Categories:
rebuttals, adventure, fear, stress,
Form: Free verse
Amongst giants, humbled, we become others.
Confidently content, no need for rebuttals.
Amongst giants, silence, for he is quiet by nature.
Similarities are subtle, for we have the same maker.
Amongst giants, admiration for her strength and duty.
Our differences are distinct, as man becomes moody.
Amongst giants, we discover, a remedy for illness.
Purposely positioned, to show us true stillness.
Categories:
rebuttals, peace,
Form: Couplet
If your ego is capacious
Or your appetite voracious
For a plucky, pertinacious
Confidence in cherished creeds,
Then your genius, though sagacious,
Conjures arguments audacious
Never seeing they’re fallacious:
Truth be told, you’re in the weeds.
Your disease: a contumacious
Predilection for tenacious
Relics of the late Cretaceous
Buried deep within your soul.
Now the clash of clues vexatious
Shows your self-made strait hellacious;
Still your will proves efficacious
To maintain your status quo.
In the face of facts veracious
When your mood is disputatious
You remain unfazed, pugnacious,
With your slowly dying breed.
Your rebuttals wax loquacious
To escape the perspicacious
But they seem a mite mendacious
To the few who pay them heed.
Though my grousing is ungracious
And my rhyming ostentatious
I won’t stoop to be salacious
For the horror’s grim and cold:
While your heart still soars flirtatious,
Charmed by pterosaurs predacious,
Laxness leaves your brain crustaceous,
Drying, hardening in its mold.
Categories:
rebuttals, funny, humor, humorous, mental
Form: Light Verse
Obstinate eyes, worn I, dart shadows wished pretend,
Spun ‘round by carousel, too quick for lines to bend,
See only empty space no shackled dare transcend,
Beneath dishonest moon, short innocence to lend;
Well mannered hope once held from schools raw fish attend
Has turned against me now, caused youthful dreams distend;
And though none hear my cries, enlightened thoughts suspend
Then clamor angrily, “Pure lies, this sinner’s penned!”;
Rebuttals cower, lest again their words offend
Long worshiped Deity, who claimed I do impend
Her right to happiness; begged justice apprehend
Love’s punished prisoner, whose hell shall never end.
1/16/2017
Submitted for: 12x12 Monorhyme
Sponsored by: John Hamilton
Categories:
rebuttals, lost love,
Form: Monorhyme
In an otherwise
uneventuful
morning, between the
roles we locked
eyes, bantering
without
mincing words, allowing
futures, names, and
rebuttals to
stem from our hearts
unmuffled, and
mingle.
A fearless
gig between the
staves ensued, bringing
us to melt in a
timeless
embrace of playful
reminders of our
unmistakeable, unshakeable, and
unutterable bond.
In a twine of echoes and
mirrors, between the
statements you
probed, between the
silences I
listened, between the
changes you
questioned, between the
questions I
changed.
Between encounters we
found
ourselves speaking our
undecipherable
Angelic language, between the
sentences we read
our souls so
smoothly.
Between the
grooves I think, between the
rules you feel, between the
lines we just
ARE.
Categories:
rebuttals, allegory, dance, language, love,
Form: Free verse
rain falls today as we accept
the dark clouds of change
puddles of blood reach the eye
of the storm once well hidden
my galoshes are like internal
quicksand at its wits end's peak
my umbrella is temperamental for
life, and my brain is a deluge of
confusion
hail slams against all foundations
as we accept the dark clouds of
change
overflooded aftermath forces all
acidic rebuttals with a unprecedented
makeshift wand
oh how we wish for silver rabbits, but
instead we get black crows and wrinkle
rust vultures
Categories:
rebuttals, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Why, yes, that’s a picture of me there
You cannot believe I was once fair
Just look at your belly
It bounces like jelly
It seems you’re now ready to compare
At least I have hair you can envy
That wig you are sporting’s not trendy
And I still have my teeth
You lost yours craving sweets
Behind your dentures is breath deadly
So you are surprised I can fight back
Rebuttals you’ll find that I don’t lack
And speaking of “buttals”
Your caboose just shuttles
When you bend, you reveal a huge crack
If you’ll keep your comments to yourself
You may find that I’ll behave myself
But mocking me won’t work
So wipe off that wry smirk
Or I’ll hide your booze on a back shelf
*Written September 3, 2014
Categories:
rebuttals, humor,
Form: Limerick
AT THE MIDNIGHT POWER
As a writer I seek sanctuary in every sentence, sentiment and syllable spoken
As a man I possess a soul bought, bastardized and broken
These are traits that rate reviews worthy of nothing much
With a psyche which summarily succumbed to sorrow and such
My soul has been purchased, purloined and perpetually deprived of pity
I’ve been slaving too long at a mill with the gregarious and the witty
As a writer I am compelled, compromised and have competed with complaints
As a man I am confused by and conscious of consistent and consternating constraints
Restraints such as rules, regulations and rebuttals of any kind
Because I am shackled by my maudlin and too often mildly bemused mind
Even merriment means misery for a man such as myself
A person who displays his animosity toward others upon a mantle’s shelf
As a writer my secret is that I have no secrets nor exclusionary excuses
As a man I swear to four strong aces but hold a hand with only two lame deuces
As a writer I heed no warnings that may wane at midnight’s hour
But as a man I confess a constant lack of strength or any palpable power
© 2012...PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~
Categories:
rebuttals, angst,
Form: Quatrain