Impossible, I say
God would have no one to toy with
To play with
To challenge His ways
If I’m never here
Who would question His authority
Inspire the masses
To turn the other cheek
And hand out free passes
Nothing would change
Nothing at all
It would all be the same
Just a little less sane
Just a little less music in the air
Just a little less of me anywhere
From my point of view
I’d be in just a little less pain
A little less poetry full of bane would be written
A little less song would be sung and be smitten
A few less flutes will have been made
A few less new words would be created
Someone’s Grandma will have to cross the street alone
My cat would miss me
No one will be cursing my name
Or be any less off without me in the game
No, nothing would change
Nothing at all
I’m just not that important
Not at all
Ultimately,
I kinda like it that way
I should've predicted the dilemma right from the start.
When you parked your car, sideways, across my heart.
Too far gone to see, too emotionally invested to care.
A gradoise illusion to your thousand yard stare.
Feelings of belonging whilst rejoicing in laughter.
My mind simply concocting a happily ever after.
The kick from your beauty internally ingrained.
Any fears and dubiety subsequently waned.
The flame burns alight but old scars remember.
What once shone so bright is now ash and ember.
Dreams of connection shot the nest and flew.
The circle has no end, producing suffering anew.
Validation and consent to toy with my emotions.
Like a child blowing bubbles or a witch making potions.
Conceding I play no part in the life that you chose.
I stare to the sea, that's why they call it the blues.
A wave washes over me, in a figurative way.
As I replay the conversation had on that last day.
Like a beautiful serpent, you hissed 'you should've been flattered'.
As you turned. Walked away. My love story shattered.
I created it, it's mine to toy with;
Please don't add a thing
without that flavor that flows;
If I wanted it?
I already would have done it.
Growl at me?
I'll show you my teeth
and you won't like it;
I created it, it's mine to toy with;
I'm already wild.
I always work alone.
Trespass and you'll get bit.
Hard.
Still think I'm docile?
Can't cage what you can't catch.
Do your own thing
don't manipulate what's mine.
You're housebroken, I'm ferocious.
I created it. It's mine to toy with.
Positives and negatives
Are said to be attracted,
According to our knowledge...
Thus how I may feel
May be haunted by darkness
Or enlightened by happiness.
With every joy,
There is a piece of misery
That comes to toy with my emotions.
My thoughts as vast as the ocean
Are likely to to go through storms
Of winds and waves.
Breezes part of logic
And waves as flowing as feelings,
As I fish for gladness,
I soon reel in powerful thoughts of sadness.
I beg not to die in an ocean of such thoughts.
So then I am set free,
Due to reassurance,
Even though everything positive
That happens to me
Comes with a negative
I shall eventually be saved.
He's up and coming, yuppie humming,
Down and puppy low.
He's high and drying, dancefloor-flying,
Under miles of snow.
We love him, we love him, we want him to be fine,
Want him hanging from his legs inside the sucker's vine.
He's jungle crawling, urban sprawling,
Wedged tween grizzled stone.
The horror high windows, dark doors jackdawed,
Bus-pass rattled bones.
Dance boy dance,
in the carriage of the cage,
Run carnage round the turkey-neck track.
Sing boy sing,
Do as you should be doing,
Climb headless up the cracks of the cash sack.
A new kipper to whip,
New boy to toy with,
A new fellow in town without nowt.
Nowt but his learnings,
Big feels and small earnings,
And a small voice with which he can't shout.
He's up and coming, yuppie humming,
Got so far to go.
He's high and drying, dancefloor-flying,
Alone in dark lane, all aglow.
We are all going to wear khaki pants to the parade.
What’s khaki? I ask, knowing, but wanting to see his reaction.
He is new, and I love to toy with the new guy.
“You know,” he says, “Um, tan, plain, dull, plain, tan.”
“I don’t have any pants like that,” I tell him, “But I can do purple.”
I read his face, his cheeks pink up fast.
I am going to have fun with this one.
“Oh, I am sure you have something khaki,” he says confidently.
“No, she doesn’t!” all three of the others in the lunchroom shout nearly simultaneously.
His nose is pink now. He looks down, and I realize the minute it registers that
I am wearing my red, orange, black, gray and purple owl pants.
“Do you have PLAIN?” he asks hopefully.
They are all shaking their heads ‘no’.
I am so proud as I leave the lunchroom,
They know me here!
Keeping me hooked like a fish out of water.
On invisible line, i cant see.
You keep pulling harder.
When you first baited me in, giving me what i wanted.
Just to toy with my heart.
You threw me back into the water.
Reeling me in closer,
Almost so i could touch.
Just to hear those horrible words
You arent good enough.
Back to where it started.
Where i first learned to swim.
Lead me to another boat
With better fisherman.
No need for apologies.
Dont even bother.
My life is served at its best
Like a fish out of water.
It took our boys,
And turned them into men.
It raped our girls,
And made them pregnant with hate.
It took away the toys from our children's hands,
And taught them to toy with each other's lives.
Weapons are no longer made for wars,
But wars are made for weapons.
Leaders watch the nation burn,
So they can bask in the ashes.
Where do we head?
With necks denied their heads?
The blood is creating a red carpet in the roads,
So that a leader's shoes escape the dust.
But hands will shake,
Once the people are weak enough to be feasted upon once more.
The people shall be given a circus,
And soon they shall forget.
They shall come together,
Like scattered grains of rice,
So that the upper class can have a mouthful.
They shall bury the past,
But hold on to their hatchets.
They shall have a different script read out to them,
And a few Hail Maries, for all leaders come from God.
(A poem for Nigeria )
Elliepoet
Stranded on a stoney shore
Lift my head to gaze upon a beach of humanity
All half in the ocean as we grasp upon the grit
No grip or girth or strength
To pull us safetly from the curdled sea
Suspects of our own demise
Loneliness seems to toy with me in pleasures throes
I am deadlight killed in sunlights scorn
Feelings wither in desolation
and the rot now salts the earth
Pain ebbs in darkness
The source within that no surgeons hands can restore or remedy
If the tears that drown myself
are pity for me or just our mutual futile cause
Forgotten paths
Untrod valleys
Lonely nights
Quivering hearts
The lonely journey of life
Befriending the pain
Confronted with a brutal truth
The cold heartless stony truth
Pleading with the angel of death
To spare him the agony
To let his soul gently sleep
In the arms of the maternal sea
Under the hot Mediterranean sun
To toy with the winds and the tides
Ashes scattered under the
Paternal nurturing sun
Home and peaceful at last
AP: 1st place 2021
Submitted on December 27, 2018 for contest 2019 POETRY MARATHON MILE 5 sponsored by MARK TONEY
Originally posted on January 6, 2018
Now I know who this dark energy is
Its been around me at work all along
I just couldn't put my finger on who it was
Until I heard that I was precious
Precious for my bleeding that is
Like the song beautiful broken
He's the nightmare I'm afraid of
He's got me in his sights all right
To toy with me like a cat with a mouse
Why couldn't I figure out til now
Red flags going off all over the place
The poem I wrote to my kids
If I die tomorrow
The poem to my manager who I think
so highly of
I was doing fine for awhile now I'm spinning
all over again
No wonder why I want to puke today
I feel his dark energy and the things
he wants to do to me
He's my sadistic broken nightmare
A silhouette cavalcade
Stretches back into the darkness
As the wind creates daunting figures to toy with my eyes
Moonlight gleams and caresses them
Basking the tree's in a steely mirage
Jealous of their sisters green hue's they creak and moan
Tormented by this parody of day
Yearning for the sun
The nocturnal choir echoes across this landscape
Ironically soothing in their distress
The moon rests behind a cloud
Darkness eclipses all
No more figures taunt my gaze,
Yet the voices of the choir disperse
Free without their gleaming conductor
My ears are now betray me,
"Creak"
"Snap"
My heart races
As i search for a familiarity
A friend in the black
The moon recovered peaks from behind its cloud
Basking the true way home in its effortless yet arrogant glow
For he hides the truth in that boyish smile of his
Will we just get rid of this?
Can we deal with daily grind?
Are the wrong type of people?
Trying to toy with your mind?
Will we all just see the way?
For a life they have planned?
Or stand on our own two feet?
Defending our inches of land?
To My enemies (By Josner Saintil)
Do you hate me because I hate ignorance,
And injustice?
Or is it because you hear rumors,
Or because I got mad at you once
For your stupidity and close-mindedness?
Are you my enemy because you don't like
me now at all?
So though you're a devil
You'll lie and act nice,
Just to see me fall?
Do you despise me 'cause of something
I supposedly did or said,
Or because my life is a mess
And I try to let go of stress
So I don't dread?
Do you think I care of you're hatefulness to me?
Or do you think your rumors will hurt me
'Cause like you, you think I'm weak,
Or do you wish to totally erase my identity,
Like evil thinks it can do to me?
I am stronger than the average man.
I've climbed mountains you would never climb,
With a smile.
I am more than life's conqueror,
Because I'm always free.
I am your ruler
Since you're always trying to toy with my emotions.
It never phases me so you get angry.
I am a wizard
Will is my wand and my magic potion.
To win life's race... is my only devotion.
The more i write the more i think i learn but its in turn the least that i know. The stories are presented before the face of the author. The permanent bleeding's bled into the paper, a life time since the discovery wonders of the writings of my former self the tale that could have been spun. To sit back and piece the contentions is to only drift further away from the sanity of the destruction. To flirt with the tiny notion of a better life with the same demons of yesterdays is madness. For one to wonder the purpose of them is sicking to the soul, still we question the existence of every day from day light to dusk. The holidays something to experience but the curse returns of the song of the reality if it means alot to you rings threw my song of life once again only to make me question why is it some kinda game for me to toy with the empty void once again
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