A cock and a hen held a party
It caused chaos in the farm yard
Billy bull and a cow began mating
Of course it inspired this silly bard
A crafty spider wanted to join them
From her web spun with nylon not silk
But she wouldn’t drink at the party
And declared “I’m allergic to milk”
A piggy wig said, “I’ll lead the dancing”
But quite soon piggy began to wail
When a nasty old goat butted in
And spitefully pulled piggy’s tail
The noise from the barn was horrendous
Farmer Fred heard the cow loudly mooing
He dashed in with his pitchfork and rifle
Billy bull and the cow ceased their screwing!
Farmer Fred arrives, puce in the face
He asks, “Who arranged this soiree”?
The sneaky spider pointed all 8 fingers
Soon the fowl hosts lie dead in the hay!
The farmer starts to reload his rifle
All the party animals quickly disperse
The farmer’s wife cooks the fowl in the oven
And this is the end of this witty verse
My resolves, like ivy vines, coalesce around.
My caverns of thoughts constantly open and close.
Amidst scorns, I hear a spitefully silent sound.
Absurdity whirlpools as though decoded morose
Courage, like a well-built rampart, guards me, I know.
Confidence overflows from the jar of my heart.
Why, yet, does darkness of despair engulf my hut?
Why do breezes end and storms violently blow?
Though reason, like passion, plays a parallel part
Why do doors of my homecoming seem to be shut?
The first independent woman
created by God from dust,
and placed in the Garden of Eden,
turned into a hot fiery female of fantasy.
The first wife of Adam,
she got banished from Eden
for disobeying his masculine domination.
In revenge the instinctive incarnation of lust
morphed into a night monster
for men to be spitefully allured, led astray,
and a child-killing witch,
strangling helpless neonates
with her enchanting golden hair.
The primordial fiend of serpentine seduction,
the first cohabiter of man,
Lilith, epitomized untamed power image,
embodying the forceful female archetype
of malevolent rebellion, evil empowerment,
and potent pursuit of feminine freedom.
Dangerous Fools and Evil Idiots
They agree to disagree
Always spitefully fastidious
About each other’s pedigree
Always at the war, that goes
With no hope to prove who’s right
There’s no right, because it flows
Through their fingers to the light
Of forgotten source they knew
In the times of childhood years
When the mornings looked brand new
And they lived knowing no fears.
and it dawns on me
while straightness
aims for conformity
it seems to clutter
people's brains
with madeup rules of
shoulds and musts
that snowball
spitefully into
rampant
venomous
chaos
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
It would seem much of the time that while so many so called self respecting, educated, so called independently minded women don't truly respect much or anything , often especially men, the so called women who are said to have no self respect truly respect everything to be truly respected, especially life and self interest and truly understand and respect men. As for me I respect anyone who respects me . I only judge that which spitefully judges. My idea of a relationship is being married to a great guy. That is myself , but being on the low down with the opposite gender. please, don't tell him. he's so jealous. ha. ha. footnote; is life about love and being a dove or just hate disguised as it's opposite. ask yourselves, please. honestly.
Of course,I read the manual.
Who hasn't?
Words,nothing but words
Until it happens
And then it is burned,branded and imprinted
Graphically and indelibly
Into your brain.
Sleep brings the nightmare alive
Again and again
You witness it over and over
In all its starkness
There's no escape,no way out
You can't stop the bloody train in time
All you can do is spectate
An unwilling and helpless participant
By the time your eyes pick out
The figure poised on the parapet
Vulture like
You are at the point of no return
Slam on the brakes
Jolt the passengers awake
The body in crucifixion mode
Glances off the cabin glass
Pupils dilated and inward looking
Staring within
You stand frozen
Unable to avert your gaze
And then time stands still
Journey and jobs disrupted
Until the gruesome recovery
Is complete
But that frozen snapshot
Haunts my memory
Flashing up
When least expected
My albatross
Seared into my mind
Spitefully roosting
And beyond oblivion
Torturing my soul
And draining
My will to live.
A darkened world of dank false dreams,
painted with whiskey to mask my screams,
I'll blame the sun, the moon, the sky,
I'll blame the well wishing passers by,
I'll hide down deep in the sickly sweet,
I'll hide from myself my head to my feet,
I'll run from my body, heart and soul,
holding on to what swallows me,
I'll then swallow whole,
See me create a romance facade,
of every writer spurring drunken retards,
Bukowski & Ginsberg,
Kerouac & Burroughs,
mock their work with your life style,
dead poet brow furrows,
Darkened lines drawn across their face,
your whiskey, their words,
your cocktail's disgrace,
I'll call it art and jump on their wagons,
just to fall off of mine,
as their words pass me flagons,
Watch how I kill myself, long and slow,
spitefully swearing, "oh what do they know"
Borrow excuses to live in a lie,
to see at last truth, the day that you die,
That all this intelligence and power you've used,
was squandered, and raped...genius self abused
By David Nickle Read 3/4/18
All Rights Reserved By The Author
Here I am on the phone
Wincing and flinching
Put forever on hold
Listening to old music
That’s oh so loud
Feeling like an elevator
About to explode
Banging piano, is Liberace back?
I think my head is about to crack
Waiting, returning and waiting again
My stares zooming out into oblivion
My head is spinning, my shoulders hurt
But I can’t hang up, I’m so inert
I fear I’ll be rude and spitefully curt
Here I am on the phone.
I'm pleasant for disgraceful persons
These gods who never learn the lessons
I lead them with an obscene phrase
to Helen's embrace to ghost's face.
My fire burns their souls with pleasure
I make a step, you're under pressure
I'm here, but you can't hear with ears,
Oh, gods, I'm reason of your tears.
I'm laughing spitefully I'm hidden
You're dreaming and your story's written
You want to say, I love you so
It means I'll never let you go.
Karma Bites, Big Chunks From You.
I sent my love you sent back cold hard slaps
I gave my loyalty you gave back treachery laced with deceit
I sent gentle mercies baked with loving pies
You tossed back hatred, viciousness and torrid little lies
Years flew by and we found darkness ate us both
I tried forgiveness you spat back deep pain
I ate it and desperately tried again and again
You laughed and crushed deeper my loving soul
I found another path to save myself and our child
you ran the bars and clubs acting ever so wild
Now the years have not been so gentle with you
A justice gifted because everybody that loved you
you arrogantly and spitefully sought to savagely screw!
Caged
Unable to be free
Longing for liberty
Dying for their individuality
Aggressive parentage creates drones
Deadened by the force
Of parental ambition
That knows no bounds
And where pride is king
Secrets and ambitions
Are encased deeply
In a psyche that aches
From the push to
Always improve and be
Better than other kids
Manners must be impeccable
Grades must be exemplary
Even into adulthood
The grip of excessive control
Shows no lessening
Letting go is hard to do
When your kid’s lives must
Revolve around you
Some pay the ultimate price
And spitefully take paths
They may not have wanted to
Suicides
Drugs
The wrong crowd
A dismal job
All taken up to frustrates
Those that must forever be
The centre of another’s world
You collapse to the ground
I hurry to catch you
Whispering words of destitution, tiredness, and fatigue
You tell me you’re tired
Weary to live like this
With this illness
How it shuts every door
Pains to the core
Slowly, spitefully, you start to lose yourself
I fear that in my every soul
Tears of ache run down my sight
I yell at you, beg you at you to stop
Demand you to discontinue
Thrive for that promise of yours
Tell me it’ll all be okay
Tell me you’ll get better
Awe me with your dreams
Inspire me with every act of good of yours
Every city you wish to route every street of its
Every sunset you wish to set eyes on
Every night sky, full of bright blazing miracles
But you don’t
You tell me you can’t
And I ask of you to do that
But although that
Although every worry that ties me
Every doubt, every tear, every darkest misery
You surrender and leave
Leave me there
All anxious and terrified
Of what comes next
What is due to occur
And it frightens me
Keeps staring at the empty space
With thoughts and thoughts
Conquering
Torturing
Consuming
We began with nothing
And what’s left is nothing
But all that we began with
SERVITUDE TO PRIDE
See,
Our love that once
Like an inferno burnt,
Now, like an ember smolders,
And beyond kindle by pride has become.
Our psyches by pride wreathed, in loneliness
Our hearts writhe and our mirth into myth retracts.
Without,
A serene heart we feign.
But within, our hearts by dusk of pride
Blinded, for each other grope and to the
Melody of the dirge of our fissured
Hearts pride spitefully dance.
For
A faded memory of you
All night i carouse yet for
Your caress I yearn.
Photographs of you and i, my roses
To you, as a sedative into the mire you threw.
But, how come out of your heart you could
Not throw me?
The
Trees of pride, it is palpable,
A fertile soil in our psyches had found,
And under the arbor of their leafy boughs,
Etiolated our hearts berth and for
Sunshine seek.
EVERY DAY IS A NEW DAY
Though in a dark crucible
Cruel fate for you.
A hearth built
And for the crow
of the cock, with
frail hope
your dawn waits.
Disheartened though
for your dreams
By a dark veil
of vagueness wreathed,
And your easterly
light, dark fate eclipsed
But never with the eyes of yesterday
into tomorrow gaze
For everyday, a new day is
The morn, a new hope it heralds.
And it’s benign ray a courage for
Conquest over cruel fate it brings.
Cloaked in sulleness
Robed in nadir
On you, eerie fate
spitefully smiles,
for a dark thorny path
To your eyrie
it carved for you.
And even for a glint of light
you grope.
And oft time into the ditch of
futility you fall though.
In your impregnable dreams
find a strength to stand
But, never stand, for behind
To look, but to ask yourself why..
For everyday, a new day is
The morn, a new hope it heralds.
And it’s benign ray a courage for
Conquest over cruel fate it brings.
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