Fury Unleashed

ONGOING HAVOC

Folder: 
2002 Poetry

this breath hasn't been any better

like those leaves hanging

afloat, descending into the sewer

and my own self in the same level

identical--desiccated

trees bearing their fruits

at the bottom they fall as they ripen

on the ground you'll see them abound

just like me in this pedantic bedlam



my head's in the mood for a hood

to mask my ruin if only I could

see me as I'm standing naked

clad, yet you still view me naked

you stand  before me looking sacred

but instantly you'll swing to feel hatred



my feet stained with blood

those thorns you lodged

they've punctured my stand

to my wound they stayed in feast

green prairies luring me to step up

steady feet not wanting to step back

I'd still pursue, as this will be the last

I'm counting on my might

I hope my feet (for the last time) will abide



the sun is set to repose

across the sea I saw it submerged

darkness fills the space

and my eyes could see this mesh

as darkness is here to bask

and together we're glancing at my past



step by step I make my tracks

off this place encumbered with angst

and as I make my final trance

this I avow never again to slip back

there have been too many sting in my cup

and going back is unwise twice as much

I shall throw the key to the bottom of the sea

and shall never again look back

never again will I allow you to thwart my luck

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Haiku--I SWEAR

Folder: 
haikus/senryus

Fuck you! Go to hell

Your mom is a sucker whore

Rot in hell, you bitch!

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I know what you think. But this is just a word play yo knoe :)

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tortured soul

He goes through the day unsure of who he is  and why he's here.

A torured soul, among millions of others that hold the same fate.



How can others be so mean?



They mold him into an insecure man with hate and anger that can overpower any common man.



Words ment to hurt, also give him power. they give him reason to prove them wrong.



But what if he finally snaps?



i would not want to be in his tormentors shoes when he avenges himself.

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THEY CALL IT LOVE

Sometimes, they call it love,

Or something like it,

I'am impressed!



Its so fragil,

And so short lived,

No wonder,its missing

The real strengh



It's so flimsy,

not a big mess

It's abused

What a fool play for those



It's so fast and done

So quick,

It's besides slicky,

And what a fake!



It's passes quickly,

And sometimes it hurts,

I'am again impressed,

It leaves nothing good,



But bares the soul and flesh,

For mostly the sweet-sour taste

Of passions- dead

And so this, they call it love,



But who's to say nor to gain,

None bounds the heart and soul

Forever,

But leaves it in the end, just dead.





Ladydp2000

copyright@2000


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Surreal Bloodline

The gavel strikes on stated bail

I can never make.

I have journeyed through blindness,

through hysteria and now here.

Recalled to mind a nightmare.

Restated with a drone as dour as cursing,

now knowing I have been chased from life

for vengence gained at bitter ends.

Through question periods my future

bears my right hand man begging.

Crown orators scheme and the

novel nippers, the omnipresent probes

with social eagle eyes

scratch with public hands.

Their chairs full by habit -

unjustified queers

always flourishing their fame, their

stories stolen from

victims trapped in jurisprudence.

A man's fire they write his blood

sharing there his life.

A bloody sister's screaming horror;

you brother-in-law -

your guilty anger brought to final rest.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Not a personal event. Taken from the life story of another.
This is a daydream of hatred that the main character's having about his brother-in law who is physically abusing his sister.

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Statements of Frustration

Part I: Not Enough



For all the shit I do

That's not enough

For all the words I say

That's not enough

For all the love I give

That not enough

For all the games I would never play

That's not enough

Well fuck it

Cause it's not enough



Part II: Never



Never called you out your name

Never could play a single game

Never said a word that was not true

Never was there a day

Where I falsely smiled in your face

And you never had a clue

Never Never Never



Part III: Had IT



When I throw up my hands

You'll know I've simply Had IT!

I'm through, I'm done, absolutely finished!

You need not think that it's only about you

Cause I've Had IT

Up to right about here with may a situation

I've had it with the list being too big to even list.

I've had it, exceeded my limit for tolerance.

I'm fed up to a point that if I don't loosin my belt

I just might pop.

I've had it so much that the words no longer needs to be discussed.



Part IV: Frustrated



Listen up world

I got a statement or two

A message for all

To take heed to.

See, I grow weary of the manner

For which You behave,

Rudely responsing to my simply request

With a laugh and a slap in the face.

How much harder do you want me to work?

You like doing nothing but play fun and games,

Mostly the one named I Give, You Take.

Now, they say that little things mean a lot

But when there are a lot of little things,

What then do they say?

And what actions do I need to take?

Accept it gratefully, graciously with godly gratitude?

The other alternative may not be to your liking.

You might even end up calling out the word

Bitch to describe it.

You keep bouncing me against a rubber wall,

And I'm getting rather sick

Of fighting and scraping to get out of this pit.

My tolerance and time is running thin.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Please excuse the language. I was really fed up.

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untitled

always expecting and never forgetting

of the man he wants me to be

can I forgive him, he wants me to be him

I don't think he will ever see

with a coming of ages I go through my stages

will I ever be me

he makes me feel sorrow that will be there tommrow

my only problem is he

Author's Notes/Comments: 

it hurt to write this one

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guilt trip

You try to use me,

my poetry.

I can't turn it on and off

but I don't think you understand.

You try to use guilt to make me work for you

it tears me up inside

I fucking hate this life,

I wish you could just leave me be

I don't want to even look at you,

I don't want you to look at me,

I would rather die than have you continue to do this

I hope you relize what your doing to me.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I hated stuff while I wrote this

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DANCE WITH THE DEVIL

Just sit there,so cold my friend, hanging,fooling

Yourself, from your own madness,

Tear, tear apart if you can, all the structures of

My soul,

While your own world, full of lies, dissolves

Inside and out, to clay and dust, nexto to nothing.



Collecting all the spoils, is your game, cursed from

Birth by the gods, your houses of frozen bones,

Crosses buried in the sea of your dispair,

Call, call out the winds, your angels friend, to

Help you in your quest.



Go on, and continue your destruction, your black

and macabre dance with death,appointed prince of

The undead,messenger of sin and dispair,

Dance, dance away to death, till you go back to hell!



Ladydp2000

copyright@2000

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