Unsheathed Poems - Poems about Unsheathed

arms spread the deceit confusion reign truth scolded false words spit the beast...

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"O, Lord, make my enemies ridiculous. And God granted it. . . Voltaire I grew up Ojibwe in a pure white world, my long black hair was straight and never curled; and I was bullied bad, inside it made me mad! Then one day I unsheathed my sharp sword, all the hurt...

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Resurrections lone fallen spiritual being, kneeling within the darkness of mine Own tormented soul, broken, fractured at fetters ivory appendages, a flightless Angelic Dark winged angel standing alone, weeping in the nights blackened clouds of utter blindness, a disarmed shield maiden of heavens grace! Seeking the lightning storms final thrust of thunders rapture, my burnt scorched Feathers descend cascading...

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Oh ...I will not! ...see you ...left... crepuscular ones! though I turn my eyes away from your visceral hungry-ed movements, your quests to be fed in shadows, the babied darkness on ink tip of night ...upon which you suckle I do not, I will not, witness your skulking muscular moves with sonorous cellular revulsion... NO! I will dissolve...

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Sword brashly drawn from scabbard Gilded blade with a lucent polish lathered Burnished to reflect the availing light on each side gathered Conversely, deflecting the pious streams pharisaically blathered Weapon-grade mind steeled to cut through the broad discourse Sharp point piercing each tangled, silken strand; puncturing each uncorroborated source Serrated edges slashing through the syntactical pulp so coarse Double-edged blade mincing then...

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The tear cut across the page It's cry pierced the silence Then another Bitterness in each hand, finger Finally Parts left of a veiled note, about me contents opened for me, for me Anger lacing the uneven edges Betrayal had danced upon the lines Taunting Across the page, each line was a stab Into my back A cold-eyed girl with a blunt sword Of hurtful words and A fair-skinned girl...

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Coaxed from its vile sheath To appease the voices from beneath An instrument of unruly malice A weapon as wise as it is callous No fool shall get past it Only those with wit Only Those who are wise Who Learn not by their eyes Only they stand a chance They who hold their stance Do not flinch do not waver Unless its death you savor...

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