Tag Archives: Anger

Fuck-Up, Poetry Keshia L. Nowden

Genre: Life, Anger

                                                                                                Fuck-Up – Keshia L. Nowden

You ever wonder why Santa Jesus God put us here?

You see fuckups everywhere.

Some inherited from wealth,

Some

stumbled

upon,

Some man-made.

I’m a reincarnated fuckup

I may have been the catalyst for being expelled from the Garden of Eden

I might have been the one to sell Jesus out at dinner one night,

or started World War I with a bullet to a noble’s dome.

Maybe Santa Jesus God hated me that much, he put me in this sad woman’s body,

A woman who doesn’t know what forgiveness feels like, because no one gave her a chance

to correct her mistakes.

Even if she did correct every mistake she’s made, people still shun her, like a contagion.

They say “all is forgiven,” but it isn’t.

“She’ll always be a fuckup,” She senses, “She’ll never change.”

So I don’t change, this won’t ever change.

What difference will it make?

I’m just waiting for the next life to happen,

So I can begin the process again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
http://www.wildsound.ca/poetrycontest.html

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Safekey First, Poetry by Barry Fairweather

Genre: Anger and Frustration.

Safekey First
by Barry Fairweather

I’ve never been quite so frustrated
The search was relentless you see
I found myself pacing the length of my home
It seemed I had misplaced a key.

To make matters worse I was cranky
I was dizzy, light headed and more
I needed to find in a flash for the cash
The safe key that opened the door.

My anger turned into soft sobbing
Banging my head on the wall
The misfortune was too much to handle
The tears were not helping at all.

The moral, dear reader is simple
A safe is no use with no key
I think that a good combination
Is a lock with a dial, then you’re free.

Free to not pull all your hair out
Free to drink chamomile tea
For the stress isn’t best, puts your patience to test.
In the case of the missing safe key.

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
http://www.wildsound.ca/poetrycontest.html

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WALKING WITH GHOSTS, Poetry by Lucy Williams

Genre: Dark, Anger, Murder, Confession

WALKING WITH GHOSTS
by Lucy Williams

Kneeling in front of you, like a starving dog

I am confessing my sins

Be prepared to hate me as much as I do.

One cold, wet night many years ago

I finally found you.

So cold and wet was it that daggers seemed to fall from the sky in the shape of rain.

We stood staring each other in the eye,

Book-ending a rubbish strewn alleyway in the worst part of town.

With that confident smirk on your face I knew you thought I didn’t have it in me.

Brushing your sodden brown hair out of brown eyes, the rain sparkling off your long lashes in the lamp light, you told me as much.

But that was before I leveled the gun at your head,

Before I pulled the trigger

And before the bullet embedded into your skull.

Since then I have been walking with your ghost

Kneeling in front of you like a starving dog

I am confessing my sins, starting with you.

Are you prepared to load the gun?

Crunching over broken bottle and fag ends, I stand over you.

Those brown eyes of yours wide open, gazing beyond this world.

Lying in a sticky pool of your own blood,

I see you truly for the first time.

Like a mist rising from wet grass, your ghost hovers above your body

Forming it’s shape in my soul.

Your heart beating it’s steady rhythm next to mine.

Without a word or expression I leave you broken.

Walking through empty streets practically in a coma.

No one cares you have taken your last breathe,

Nor will they ever.

Reaching home, I shower away all traces of you.

In the steam rising off my body in the heat, I can see your face.

Our secrets should have died that night to

But you made sure they didn’t.

Because since then I have been walking with your ghost.

Kneeling in front of you, like a starving dog

I am confessing my sins.

I will hand you the gun.

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
http://www.wildsound.ca/poetrycontest.html

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Pain, Poetry by Muthoni Ngige

Genre: Sad, Anger, Dark, Pain

Pain by Muthoni Ngige

I curse the day I saw your pain, undigested sadness, unexpressed anger, unseen truths as my own reflection.
I curse the paths we walked sharing our shadow freely, like friends on a confusing journey in time everyday.
I curse the thought to question your darkness, to want to set you free from your experiences
I realize it was my own projection.
I curse the bed where our scars crossed.
Where you brew colourful portions under Jezebels tongue to feed my lust everyday.
I curse the deep primal wounds that bridged our hearts,
mistaking unboundaried fusion with actual closeness,hiding in your presence such as I could not exist as a separate entity.
I curse the passion that caused our wires to get all mixed up
your reflection
My projection
everyday
Our wounds way of getting the best of us forms a destructive battleground.
I free you wound-mate
scar-crossed lover free yourself
This is not your destiny.
This is not my destiny.