rude

Heart of a Stone

Heart of a stone,


You do own,


I did not lie as Horner,


Did not even raze your honour.


 

Why are you so pitiless?


Why are you beset with distress?


Do you not trust me?


Forlorn I am as a lone boat in the sea!


 

Only you can save me,

 

Only you can escort me to the shore safely!

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tags:

Parsimonious

Folder: 
Personal

"So hot headed,

but heavy is the hand

that is kept from raising.

Which,

 

being how soft

the surface below 

it would fall upon,

it is al and well

 

no hand was raised,

indeed,

but there is no praise 

for such common sense.

 

Uncommon men

and situations

make for comics 

and comical accusations,

 

life's a joke

so sometimes I laugh at it,

but this time around

I keep frowning.

 

So here it is,

laid on the table

the meal made,

with much forethought.

 

And in the end,

all it causes is heat,

feet stomping,

no use for a cooler,

 

all around fire is sprayed

and it keeps trying

to catch, 

skin not lit.

 

Whatever the reason,

be it power or to tower above,

stepping in increases rage,

decreases range.

 

Within striking distance,

add more fuel to the fire

burning deep inside,

taught to never lay a finger

 

on the fairer sex,

but the moment tests all control,

reveal, resist,

total consequence in the rearview.

 

SLew of words,

which hold meaning

spoken out of love or anger,

babble dipping into ears

 

is all tuned out;

been inside my head for hours

already.

So you go,

 

but not before raising your own hand,

no pain felt with the blow,

no weight to it.

But damned if the point isn't realized,

 

asked to leave 

only to come once I'm gone,

leaving my abode vandalized.

How dissapointing.

 

An anger so roasting

kept cool with a conversation

with a friend, 

longboarder, car hoarder,

 

keeps one in check

before diving into a bitter 

back-and-forth.

The bitter look

 

thrown with an intense glare

with one more pass,

feeling sick to the stomach,

but if one wants,

 

just ask.

I can be more specific.

Penurious of kindness,

parsimonious of respect."

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Parsimonious, not to insult anyone's intelligence, is to be stingy; to be witholding (usually of money). Something that you have, but decide not to give, or spend, or show. Being parsimonious is a common reaction to many a great painful events in our lives. But maybe it shouldn't be. For once.

It Lives

(image from elle.com) 

...........

Ignorance

......

Wasted portions of misunderstood and ignored knowledge

held for ransom, like a secret never told,

Stealthily gaining momentum

from its gravity turned stale, and time lapsed in hiding. 

Soon sheethed in the murky shadows,

lurking in the zone of the unknown,

Waiting.

 

Wanting to free, but hopelessly shackled,

a hostage whose only solace is reveling in a newfound medium,

Somewhere between complacency and torment,

it gathers rapacious auric silt and slime,

Like the ghost of thoughts put to rest,

And stories never told,

Burgeoning.

 

It plays possum in the night,

only to keep a watchful eye

upon the Earth.

 

Devotion and loyalty to reticence

is its only oxygen in the struggle for freedom,

Befriended only by the sound---HUSH!

And speak, but only for the rebirth of itself,

At its core, once long ago, enlightenment, metamorphosed into

a haunting, churlish, savage scowl.

Rude.

 

Ignorance

is the tortured spirit of all things 

misunderstood, held in secrecy,

the words and thoughts of the wolves

who walk with brazen ostenatiousness

in the sheep's hide.

 

07/29/2013 

 

1:31 am

©

............

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Words of knowledge unspoken turn to ignorance, and then to rude, abrasive, violent language and even acts.

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Sour Puss

Folder: 
human beings

the mind gets filled with decaying debris,

months and years of empty words,

like a cluttered closet never cleaned

 

cobwebs begin to form and spaces fill

dying matter clog the once well lit corridors

with unresolved differences

 

silent inner wars, like tremors 

below the fault line rise,

passions left ignored collide

 

between an empty page and an empty life 

lies her heart that yearns to speak, 

but utters only anguished cries 

 

bitter reminders of more rotted cavities

inside the tightly packed memories

boldly labeled 'forbidden'

 

she lashes out,

and for another moment,

what she has resisted for years is hidden

 

 

 

 

9:08 PM 7/3/2013 

©

 

 

...........

Author's Notes/Comments: 

about repression.

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