Is my life a toy, tossed in the hands of fate?
Pulled apart by cruelty, yet I refuse to break.
If not vindictive, then why this cold disdain?
Am I merely dust beneath your twisted game?
You cast me aside like whispers in the wind,
Unseen, unheard, dismissed without regret.
But I exist beyond your silent rage,
A storm too fierce for you to forget.
Do I not matter in your grand vendetta,
When my hands have never spilled deceit?
Yet you sharpen knives against my back,
A war waged for sins I did not meet.
Crucify me? How convenient your illusion,
To paint me villain while you wear the throne.
But I dance through your fire with a jester’s grin,
Mocking the chains you dare to impose.
Let them fear my laughter in the dark,
Let them choke on the echoes they create.
For I am no puppet in their cruel charade,
I am the poet of my own fate.
So call me fool, call me weak, call me lost,
But watch me rise while they remain bound.
The joke is theirs to bear alone—
I hold the pen, and rewrite the sound.
An anti social
Is vindictive narcissist
Always live crucial.
What does the term "astonishing friends" imply?
Is whatever that sheds from the aroma sly?
To reach out to someone with a mild gesture
Presuming one of your contacts is an admirer
Genuine mates provide an endless onset of courage.
Even though spoken knifers might hassle a rampage.
Similarly, I stick to a mate, one of my favorite.
I gleaned she should realize whether I'm a pundit.
Everything focuses on what we urge to avail.
Whatever we mumble at the witness scale.
That is the method that saves a partner's entity.
Their hearts are closed, avoiding despondency.
That is the goal they stay such a burly amenity.
Aside from being deserving of such apathy.
I can't start revealing the size I revere them.
Hustling them, then again, sustains mayhem.
Written: November 24, 2021
On that glorious evening, don't sleep subtly.
Utterly, prime-age ought to portray a furious fire.
Rage for the waning daylight with ferocity.
Even if bold people realize the terrible dire.
Their tirades were drab due to a lack of bloom.
Utterly, prime-age ought to portray a furious fire.
An ultimate wave passed, awed by its gloom.
Their lamest act could be green bay dancing.
Their tirades were drab due to a lack of bloom.
Feral people sang to the sun while swooping.
Some claim they're bawling on the path too late.
Their lamest act could be green bay dancing.
Those on the verge of death due to a disease.
Eager eyes can shine as meteors even when blind.
Some claim they're bawling on the path too late.
And you: my dad, upon the bleak hillside.
On that glorious evening, don't sleep subtly.
Eyes can shine as meteors even when blind.
Rage for the waning daylight with ferocity.
Written: October 20, 2021
Magnanimous
Noble character—
With a greatness of spirit!
Never vindictive . . .
Generous and forgiving . . .
High-minded and always just!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
December 22, 2018 (Tanka)
never thinking
he'd be seeing the
ugly side of her
posted on August 23, 2018
MISDEMEANOR
A soft lisp runs through blonde summer grasses,
shoving at kites or the hems of long skirts.
Umbrellas and hats stir as it passes,
jumbling at picnics, it teases and flirts.
It picks up speed while playing with Marty,
and takes his land legs as he tries to walk.
The unseen source can raid a yacht party,
by strewing boats that are moored to the dock.
Laughing in whispers or screaming in storms,
a mythical being, felt but not seen.
Its guests are blind to the brail it performs,
it can be gentle, or just as well, mean.
Wickedly hurling a house in the air,
or docile enough to tousle our hair.
-Edlynn Nau
© May 21, 2018
She jumped on my hand.
She slammed her foot on my head.
I decided to retaliate,
So now she is…..
Signed: The Vindictive Brakes
I haven't found the way to heaven
And I don't know who my friends are
So I peeled away my victims
Just to see them all unravel
I think it's time I start my engine
And kick up some dust and gravel
Just where did all those f@$kers go?
Maybe down to Mexico...
Maybe a visit to these "friends" of mine
I'll pay them back for their so called time
I'll take a gun and some amunitition
Just in case they fail to listen
Of course poison is another way
To kill them all and walk away
I'll buy them all a round of drinks
Even wish them happy things
I will smile and wave as they go down
Then drive away to another town....
To the ground, plastics, papers and metals
To the mixture, scrap, damaged tires and dirty pieces of cloth
Amid natural ecosystems
From whose laxation natural escapes
The flammable methane gas
Triatomic is the altered range of oxygen by the action
Of electric shocks on the heights
Whose total damage, with inventing the steam engine
And the development of the industry, then started
The harbinger that future generations
Would live in fear of climatic cloister
Sometimes the abuse, it seems that conforms
When in the forests, indiscriminately to millions
Killing pathogens, exacerbate emphysema
Of the Blue planet, whose fury is magma itself
That spares nothing and all-consuming in vindictive eruptions
You are asking me about what is the matter?
I am not dancing with a woman who wants my head on a platter.
That was a strange request she presented before the king.
How could that brazen little vixen do such a thing?
Upstairs, she is performing before many amazed eyes.
I am here in the dungeon awaiting my inevitable demise.
My cousin has been preaching out and about everywhere.
Please try to find him and tell him to beware.
Introduction: Blindfolded the world fades today, optimism awaits tomorrow...
Lies have many expressions
Can make one follow the mistaken,
Love has countless sensations
Can make one feel awaken,
Seek out the truth from its buried nation
As the deception has made it forsaken
No one knows where you’d disappear
For things you care is what you feel,
No one knows of what you hear,
One day you will deem what’s real
Ask Almighty to steer you clear
Help you save from your ordeal
A MIND SEEKING REVENGE
IS LIKE A PRISONER WITH NO JUSTICE
IT WON’T TAKE ANY RESPONSIBILITY FOR ITS ACTIONS
FOR IT WILL PLOT AN ILLEGAL PLAN OF DESTRUCTIVE EVIL
IT WILL FORSAKE AND TERRORIZE ANY SIGHN OF A CONSCIENCE
IT WILL FORBID ANY FORCE OF INSANITY
AND WILL BARRICADE ITS TEARS
ITS DARKNESS IS INEVITABLE
IT WIL BECOME ABORTIVE
IT WILL FLAUNT ITS FALSE EMOTIONS
BUT IT WILL EXTIRPATE ITS PLAN
AND IT WOULD LEAD TO A GRIDLOCK
THE MIND WOULD THEN HAVE HYPOCHONDRIA
IT CHOSE ITS KISMET
BUT IT STILL HAS A PLAN TO LYNCH SOMEONE
BUT IT WILL THEN MARTYR
THE MIND SEEKING REVENGE IS NOW NOXIOUS
AND OVERPOWERING
IT’S SLAPDASH
BUT A TYRO IN ITS NEXT SCHEME
IT WILL JAB THROUGH ITS CARELESS THOUGHTS
BUT IN THE END IT WILL HAVE A FEELING,
A FEELING OF PIQUE
AND IT WILL RUMINATE OF ITS DEEDS
(an oldie)
I saw you driving near me on the road.
I signaled left and pulled into your lane.
You’d think I were the anti-Christ - your bane.
You leaned upon your horn; such anger showed
You hit the gas and never even slowed.
By then, too late, I guessed you were insane
and flustered, tried a faster speed to gain
as you bore down, and I was nearly mowed!
Oh, yes, I know that I deserved some blame,
but must you make life hell for those from whom
you want a thing your way, and they don’t do it?
Red light. I stopped and readied for your game -
one digit lifted (wish you’d flown your broom).
You came, long finger raised; I’d beat you to it!
Morning has come the days are young my nights become
restless as my thoughts take control of every
movement I make in a vindictive way taking control of
every step that I make.
The pressure I feel has become overwhelming in my heart and
soul;Giving all that I have I keep fighting to take a stand
for my belief not dictating what would be at the end
of this path that I follow holding on strong to what
I feel is right.
Letting go of this vindictive in my heart keeping it warm instead of
cold as my mourning comes while my days are young as
my nights become restless as my thoughts takes
control of every movement i make in a vindictive way
Related Poems