PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

 

The little powers that THINK that they be...

Will in fact, NEVER CONTROL ME!

Only to God, will I ever bow down!

I refuse to be, another sheeple clown!

 

Lie and try, as they always might,

I SHALL NOT EVER COMPLY,

I won't ever take their evil mark, 

For I'd much rather, FREELY DIE!

in what dark recesses of torture remain

exists a dreaded seed for us to obtain

to keep us sane and deliver us from evil

so goes the creed of an everlasting people

 

unending doubt resonates to be

impermanance rooted in an everlasting dream

scarcity of hope glimmering in dusk

prevention of fortune in a world of luck

 

forever told from stories past

eerily reminiscent of perpetual task

systems of new destroyed wisdom once known

for all apart of a world unsown

 

grimmace and malice plagued once more

in dire times that conjured vile scorn

but it was hope that was given once last chance

now grows a tree from the seed of our past

Every tear I cried helped you sail farther away

Every breath I sighed filled your wings to fly

You mastered the wind and waves to leave me

You cried as the storms only pushed you along

 

And then You, that magnetizing, gravitating whirlpool

Leading men down to watery graves

Pulling the breath from many men's lips

And crushing them in your depths

 

It was difficult for me to lose you

I heard your siren's call

But I stuffed my ears and tied myself up

I knew you had nothing but death

 

Lastly to you, I won't say that there isn't beauty in your suffering

Only that those of us who can see it are pretty messed up

Trying desperately to find a silver lining in a thundercloud

A refreshing sea-breeze in a hurricane

 

Like the aurora borealis

Or the spritely fox-fire

You're a natural mystery

Filled with hidden meanings

 

My muses

My fates

My inspirations

I gave you all my everything

And you each of you left me wanting

Beneath the 13th Moon...

13 rooms, 13 graves, 13 ghosts, 13 mirrors, 13 spiders on the wall
13 Goblets, 13 tables, 13 shadows arise
The Séance brought them nigh, on that 13th night
13 Windows of infernal light
Passing through your eyes, into the soul, becoming one
The spiderwebs tell the story
13 Dimensions, reflections of another timeless now

13 clocks, 13 chimes, one for each room
Summoning Them forth
13 Demons unleashed on the 13th ring
Echoing through The House
13 drops of blood
13 signs, Black Dragon rise
Show Thy face, Mighty One!
Through the portal's way! ∞

 

I hold a coin, and before flipping it, I ponder

 

The world is not good

 

I tell these stories to make you feel better

 

There are humanitarians and caregivers

 

Men and women of valour

 

There are benefactors, globalists and monsters who sleep well at night, unperturbed at being monsters

 

We are mortals, We wake, work and dream

 

We ache all day and commute with heartbreak and pains

 

As the universe expands, our tolerance and imagination dwindles

 

We are man, broken and ignorant

 

No facades exist here, no light beneath the shadows. We are exactly what we seem

 

Nevertheless, the problem is not only in the ideology but also the methodology

 

Before I flip it, I examine both sides

HEADS:

 

Just people see shades of grey and hesitate to do whats right

 

A lie of omission is still a lie

 

A crime of inaction is still a crime

 

Good men do good for recognition of those within their sight

 

Their good is half measured, born out of convenience rather than necessity

 

Right taken out of necessity should not be the goal we aspire to but look around you

 

It has to be stirred within us; it needs a diatribe

 

That need, that passive feeling to let evil bloom till it is so overwhelmingly obvious is nocuous

 

That when the sins are named, and ignorance is brought up

 

Morality bows to logic yet arguments are long worded, tautological with no substance and vacuous

 

Good men are magnanimous

 

The universe is everything but

 

 

TAILS

Evil, it seeps and crawls

 

Grabbing all within its thrawls

 

Good men find options, good people hesitate

 

Evil is meticulous and calculated; it is the nature of hate

 

It is anything but laggard

 

Always one step ahead, while planning for the far future

 

Men of evil vary yet are united for they are all dastards

 

They are sequacious chthonic and fear the repercussions by covering themselves metaphorically or physically with hoods

 

The worst of men believe they are the best of us

 

The truly despicable... convince themselves they are the greater good

 

 

It lands upright, the overlooked variable

 

IT STANDS:

Hope is immaterial 

 

Without actions, it can never be realised 

 

Truth outshines the darkness, only if it is viewed

 

Our presence and actions make the untouchable real

 

 

Justice is undefeatable

 

Being in the presence of someone who wields it is ethereal

 

Finding someone that pure is almost impossible

 

Becoming that person is a thrill

 

I speak like a man who does not see the world from his abode

 

I think like a man who has never encountered a forked road

 

Evil grows, and good cowers

 

Until it is reversed I say:

 

The world is not good

 

I tell these stories to make me feel better

 

 

SO LET'S FLIP THE COIN.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Did God make this world?

By JFarrell

 

( I heard in the news Stephen Fry in trouble over comments he made)

 

Let’s assume

For the sake of argument

God is real

God created this beautiful, amazing world

 

How can you blame him for the ugliness in it?

 

The death of a child from cancer

A school buried in a mud slide

People scarred by chemical weapons

People dying in vast numbers

 

Famine, drought, war

This is all men

With cancer, several years from now we’ll discover something we used to do

Created it

 

I don’t believe in god (I think)

These are not things sent by god to “test us”

This is us, it always has been

Stop blaming god

 

 

Call me the bad guy here.
How the fuck is that fair.
I do this for payback not payment. I swear
I dare you to say it again.

Then. I want you to admit your sins
All I do these days is sit at home alone
In my den trying to escape through xbox
I just sold my mom’s ex-boyfriend’s wristwatch to piss him off

I did it. He just coughed blood
Because I shoved his ass down in the mud.
Bam, pow, Thud! Was that.. th-thunder. Wow.
I’m not going to pretend I’m black. This beat is just my nack
But at least I don’t sag and hold my sack

Oh wait. Was that raciest
Don’t get pissed. Please I must insist
Just kidding because I don’t believe in color
Well, Bill Nye said it’s just the reflection of light

Well my sights bad and I stared at the sun till everything was bright
That’s a reason I wear glasses. So fuck off. Ight?
So stop with the stereotypes you fucking dikes.
I’m a fighter. Ivy said I was a brawler.

So I guess that makes you a crawler
I’m 6 foot now. Feet, whatever. I’m even taller.
From this height you appear even smaller.
So call yourself a lawyer and call me Tom Sawyer

Because I can write whatever my inspiration desires
I may look weak. But I seek to build my own empire.
Like a motherfucking Eagle flying to the top of the tower
Did I just use a simile to make a single? Damn right. That’s my power

Now cower because I’m reaching my fucking peak.
If I have to walk through more fire than fuck it. I’ll do it 7 days a week.
You’ll call me sire when I stomp on that devil you call a liar
I’ll do whatever I have to in order to inspire and I’ll never fucking retire

Here we are. In the middle of the night
So grab this wire and wrap it around your neck
Keep it tight like this rhyme.
But now you’re dead so I guess it’s time

To throw your body on the deck and let these eagles peck
At your fucked up corpse like it’s a picnic. Fick, Fick, Fuck.
Your parents are mad so I drove by and said what’s up.
Ill drive by their house, rope em up

Leave em strapped while I listen to them quack like a bunch of ducks.
Fuck it. I’m not really insane. I just have a mind vivid with imagination and pain.
Revenge consumes me so call me Cain.
But unlike my dad I don’t binge but he loves me and I love him so I can’t fucking cringe.  

I liked us,

We always had each others back,

I can remember looking at your smile

Thinking I could see it carrying on for miles into some world of bliss,

Your little brother would look at you,

As if having more knowledge of that rich, expansive kindess,

Of what I assumed was at your core,

 

Now I know,

There is a demon who dwells inside of you,

I hear its stomps and roars,

Its shackles whipping and bending at its will,

Putting cracks in what I once thought,

Was a friendship sturdy as marble,

I feel the screams of your wrath,

I'm shocked how low they moaned,

When you created so many elegant distractions,

But now I see what lives in you,

And I fear it waits for me,

To throw my bones with all the rest,

Of the sorry fools that ever bought your act.

 

 September.28.2003

 Trisha Barrek Hopkins

 

I wish you would move on 

And leave me alone

I can't stand looking at your face

I can't stand the way you act in disgrace

You're not a man

You're nothing at all

So stop trying to stand tall

Like you did something great 

Because everything about you I hate

I want you to disappear

Get out of our lives

Vanish into thin air

Just don't come back here 

Your presence I can't stand being near 

Because nothing about you I care

In hell you belong

Everything about you is wrong 

So rot away

So I can live my life

My way day by day

Without stepping on eggshells

Nothing more to you I have to say

Finally off your high horse you fell

Never seeing you again I pray

 

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