Anger and Pain... tell me what YOU think

Anger in my heart
words just a part
of the pain
can you see it
fall like rain?
Deep red
flames of fire
pain so deep
my soul no keep
to words that wound
deep
hate and vile
deep
rise like bile
hold it down
deep
don’t let it out
can’t scream or shout
some know the pain it’s about
but they won’t say
keep the secret
shame
walk away
don’t say
you know what I’m talking about
but keep that silence
walk away
live another day


The moon looks on many flowers, the flowers on but one moon.

Nice poem, Byzantine.

From my own personal observation, anger comes from pain and also fear.

To eliminate anger, you must eliminate these.

And thus follow the eightfold path of Beerusing.

Only then will you reach beervana, the state of senselessness.


One beer is less than two beers.

Ah, young grasshopper (or just hop, a lame beer reference)
you see some but not all
truth
in my words
I wonder
what will others see?
Questions deep
mine oblique
you didn’t see

Well I
Guess I
Didn’t see.

Was there a
Question
There for me?

Do I
Gotta
Write this way.

For you to
Understand
What I say?


One beer is less than two beers.

Oh, so much better
words run together
like threads in my sweater

but still there is something there
some out here will be aware
of the pain echoed here

words are power
like a bloody flower
pain pinned to my heart

those who have felt that pain
felt that shame
will know
some can’t show
the horror that marks
them
sparks them
but they
see it
just the same

That was beautiful, Byz. :::sob:::

I have crawled
Through valleys low
Fought the foes
Took the blows.

I have climbed
Mountains so high
And I, uh, just got high.

But through it all
I shed no tear
Cause I always had the comfort
Of another beer.


One beer is less than two beers.

You two really
‘Up’ me crack
and I think you are
both on smack!

I too can write
like this you see
its the height
of inconprehensibility

I think your poems are
great, but sad
Not beeruser’s
it more glad

I want to go to beervana, the state of senselessness.

As I die in humanity
I rot for all to see
my secret shame

Hate within
hate without
I drink my fill from the poison fount
and die again.

I embrace my hate for all to see
Slowly gather it close to me
Spit it out on the ground
And live again.
This style is fun but I have found
That toiling within such bounds
makes me like Yoda sound.


You say “cheesy” like that’s a BAD thing.

Oh me oh my
Oh my oh me
I come in here
And this I see

Keep in mine
Whatever they’ve done
It really wasn’t
Everyone

I’m sorry, Byz
For all your pain
But this form will cause
Holes in my brain

So while I may for you
Shed some tears
I’m with the others
Pass me the beers


Rich Barr
massivemaple@hotmail.com
AOL Instant Messenger: Hrttannl

I, too am a poet
Least that’s what they say
I like to write words
On paper each day

I don’t really care
If they rhyme well or not
Cause rhyme makes me sound
Like a flaky robot

I’d much rather let
The words burst from my pen
As I sit in my chair in
The corner, in the den

Or perhaps as I type
At my trusty PC
Then save it in a file
Named after me

I’m curious to know
How long this thread will last
Will it grow as long
As the poem threads past?

I’ll bet that it will
We’ll see how it goes
I’ll check back now and then
At least daily, I s’pose.

This awful attempt
At making things rhyme
Has given me a headache
So I’ll quit, it is time.


Veni, Vidi, Visa … I came, I saw, I bought.

I do agree mostly,
'bout anger and pain.
But think too much of them,
they’ll mess with your brain.

Or just do what I do,
and quaff some good beers.
Drunken debauchery
with most of my peers.

I’d go see the Doctors
Jack Daniels and Walker
by this time, of course
I’m quite off my rocker.

It’s simplest to hate
things you might control.
So take my advice…
It’s “Cheap Booze for the Soul”!

sticks and stones
have broken bones
but words cut deep
leave wounds that weep

in anger said
words blood red
hurt all that hear
even ones most dear

time may hide
pain deep and wide
but healing’s slow
as scars grow

to heal one must
rebuild the trust
it’s not too late
to communicate

Peace on Earth = Purity Of Essence

There once was a man from Nantucket,
Whose…

Oh shit… Wrong poem thread…


Yer pal,
Satan

Thank you all
who have shared your words
writing in verse
keeps out the nerds

Satan popped in
but left rather fast
he can’t keep it up
nor make it last!

Satan,
I sense some reluctance to take an introspective, serious look at your anger and pain. Maybe we’d have some words of wisdom to bestow.
Don’t be afraid. Let it out… Share… :wink:
-Katy

Always only just having waken up,
My head feels empty, light, and ridiculous.
Lasting dizziness
takes away my sharp perception
and replaces it with fishhooks and hair,
all tangled together.
-Katy

I was reminded
of a phrase I read
That anger fear and pain
are all, in the end
a symptom

Symptom of the real problem,
which is lack of love.

My first thoughts here were
There is love missing and
there is love denied.
Can it be the story of one
who can’t accept love
having been taught
that it wasn’t for them.

I can empathize, sympathize…
but I don’t wish to reveal too much.

Byzantine:

You would be surprised
At the lengths I unfurl
And if I wasn’t taken
I would rock your world

okatym:

Pain and anger
There’s no need to vent
For those are emotions
That are not often spent

I’m generally happy
Kinda fun, kinda silly
The only thing that sucks
Is a poster named Kelli

Actually, I’m kidding
She don’t bother me so
Seriously, I’m doing fine
And just have better threads to go

Just for you Byzantine my dear
As I write, I shed a tear
A gift from me to you, you know
I hope you find it appropos
This is from a larger verse
I’ve written better, written worse
A gift from me to you, you know
I hope you find it appropos…
From skies above I sense your love
and wait for what you’re thinking of
It falls and gives me reason for tomorrow

Ever still you wait for me
to show you what you’ll never see
A thankless life for both with no escape


“Where there is clarity, there is no choice. And where there is choice, there is misery. But then, why should I speak, since I know nothing?”

As I sit here alone
without house without home
alone with my thoughts
my books and my tomes

I shout out my pain
to share and explain
You know what it’s like
Alone days and nights

I sense kindred spirits
and I feel my heart lift
above my despaire
'Cause now I can share

This isn’t good verse
it sounds tadry,rehearsed
But I try from my heart
To explain of my search

You have felt it too
Not quite fitting in
A piece with no puzzle
An Orphan, no kin

You try and you try
to find common ground
Only learning to late
That it’s seldome found

It’s not that we’re smart
Or witty or Quick
It’s just that some others
Always seem to be thick

I’ll end my rhyme here
And wish you the best
I hope that your heart
Can withstand the test