Reblog : Welcome Rage

Reblogging this to take part it todays Daily Prompt – “Tell us about a time when you flew into a rage. What is it that made you so incredibly angry?”

With scowling brow and clenching jaw
I welcome back this rage once more.
It’s been too long since anger flowed,
with inner feelings truly showed.
Pounding bass and guitar wail
enforces heat and without fail
will cause the eyes to burn in hate
and free the mouth to denigrate.

A blackened cloud that fogs the air
and causes deep and vicious stare.
Throbbing blood through veins within
cause aching muscles, flushing skin.
Conjuring an inner scream
that in it’s heat would challenge steam
in burning form and stinging wrath
and join me on this darkly path.

Maybe I should not be pleased
when anger hits at times like these.
Maybe I should concentrate
on losing rage, rejecting hate.
But sometimes life in cruelness black
will test my strength and so attack
and all that frees me from it’s cage
is hot embrace of welcome rage.


A post that arrived late at night. I hope you like it.

I’d colour you green,
Such things that I’ve seen,
To cause me to jealously cry;
Such emerald light,
Even seen in the night,
To claim I’m not hurt is a lie.

I’d colour you blue,
For the things that you do,
It sends me to oceans dark deeps;
A sapphire hue,
It hurts through and through,
But the agony’s all mine to keep.

I’d colour you red,
Such anger that’s bled,
From the veins of my horrible heart;
A crimson reply,
To the tears that I cry,
At the fury of time spent apart.

All colours have gone,
Departed so long,
From the world where I spend all my time;
Such black and white days,
Forever hold sway,
But at least these two colours are mine.

Who Are You Today?

This is another one of those poems that started with one single line (the title) and then kind of got away from me a bit. But I’m not unhappy with what it ended up as – so I hope you like it.

Every day a different mood, as changeable as the weather,
What chances, when the sun will rise, of us still here together?
Awaking to a different face, on egg shells do I tread,
For fear of words which set you off, I live in constant dread.
Like coming storm, the clouds approach and darken furrowed brow,
All for the sake of misplaced thought, to cry “what is it now?”
Such breath I hold when in your eye I see the spark of fury,
And knowing now I will be judged, convicted with no jury.
Improvements I try hard to make, to fix whatever’s wrong,
But without knowing actual cause, the process takes too long.
Can we return to calmer seas, a slow and steady flow,
Where sudden changing temperament does not cause gale to blow?
For such extremes of changing mood will tire and wear down,
And ‘fore too long this ship we share will sink, and we will drown.
Despite all this I persevere, enduring come what may,
I’ll be prepared and ask each morning
Who are you today?

We All Howl At The Moon

Dark dreams do come, and voices rise,
When night arrives too soon.
Alone with thoughts of what has past,
Our faces lit as cheap faux glass,
We all howl at the moon.

Against the will of stubborn world,
We play our dying tune.
Where is the hope that serves our hearts,
The dreams we hold and pray they last,
We all howl at the moon.

Caught up in fights against the tide,
The rising waves of doom.
Such gathered fools who test our will,
Who laugh along with feelings ill,
We all howl at the moon.

Power kept by those in thrall
To money’s sickly bloom.
And though we rage that it’s unfair,
The unkind world just doesn’t care,
We all howl at the moon.

A madness swift to overtake
The grinning of the loon.
A life of trials will drive us mad,
There’s nothing worse than world gone bad,
We all howl at the moon.

The Phone

A quick, fiery rant against being interrupted – yes, it’s that sort of day.

Relentless raging ringing phone,
Why can’t you leave me the fuck alone?
Don’t want your sales, your PPI,
Your accident claim, your job for life.
Incredibly rude, just let me be,
Screaming insistent “Answer me!”
No matter the voice, the tone so used,
A cry, a growl, a shout of abuse.
It’s all the same, a pain in the hole,
The shrillness, the volume, taking it’s toll.
I’m not at all ready, not willing to speak,
I want to just sit here, enjoying the peace.
But just like a thought, an irresistible force,
It wails and it shouts and it can’t be ignored.
All action must cease, attention diverted,
The course of the day so cruelly perverted.
And what is the outcome, the dull end result?
The kick in the teeth, the final insult?

“Sorry, wrong number”.


I fantasise ’bout peace and love,
From Lennon’s song Imagine;
But life with all its kicks and stabs
Makes sure of one reaction;
A raging ‘gainst the day to day,
The pettiness of people;
How can a race hope to improve
And treat all kinds as equal?

We victimise the lower class,
And those of lesser station;
Those with all and everything
Control the living nation;
What chances do the normal have,
Those struggling with living;
What can we do to ease the pain
And promote a world of giving?

The politics of social change,
The crying of the needy;
Ignored by those with bonuses
The evil and the greedy;
With dark despair I face the day,
All hope of changes fading;
The effectiveness of charity
Withdrawing and degrading.

Come join with me my fellow man,
And make the change we’re needing;
Together with a strengthened will
We’ll listen to those pleading;
As Lennon said those years ago,
You may think me a dreamer;
But if these dreams will make a change
Then I’ll gladly be that dreamer.

Be Yourself

Faithful readers…
Another new one, written and posted in about ten minutes. Maybe that shows in the quality, or maybe it shows that these words are often almost vomited out of me, hard and fast and all of a sudden. I hope you like it.
Oh, and it had a swear. Sorry.

“Be yourself”
The oft’ stated call,
But which self to be
When heaven falls?

This convoluted
That argues, fights,
Gets in the way of me.

A day of joy
When charm is all,
Such smiles and winks,
Walking tall.

A day of black
With scowl and sneer,
Stay out my way,
Steer fucking clear.

“Be yourself”
A challenge, true,
But the one real me
Is seen by you.