fear poems

The Chiding – A Poem by Naduni

“You are too hard and inflexible!”
You chide me, your face on fire
“You are overly sensitive and emotional!”
I point out, tactfully reverting the chiding.
But deep within I know,
I was too harsh on you
(Not that I wanted to, in a way I had to)
And I also know
That I have become hard and inflexible
Like a plant, after intermittent beatings
Of the weather, grows into a massive tree
Nothing can bend.
But all the same your sweet self,
Funny, silly and cute self
Reminds me how once I was.
You are several years older than me
Do I envy you for your inborn gentleness
Still staying with you?
No my darling, no.
I only fill with fear
Fear for you being transformed
Into myself,
On a day not far away.

Violent Lovely Passion – A Poem by G. S. Katz

I took you as a lover
And we were good at it
The lust, the love, the gateway
To every fantasy I ever had
Conquering fear
Going beyond
Swimming in waters that others
Could only dream about
Violent lovely passion
Where only the edge makes sense…

Shadowboxing – A Poem by Jeremiah Castelo

My shoulders are well oiled axles,
my fists are cannon balls

I am an uncompromised,
uninhibited,
and unchallenged fresh breath of boldness

I am the statue of fastholding,
chiseled down from black diamond by the strong hand of craftsmanship

I am chaos’s more stable second cousin,
and favored uncle to the prodigals, the proliferates, the princes, and
the prodigies

I am the lion’s heart beat,
the war drum’s sporadic syncopation

I am the wolf pack’s collective sixth and seventh senses,
keen on the scent of blood, fear, and impending annihilation

I will not sway to the breath of your voice
nor will I stagger at the wind your weather weaves

Advance upon me and find yourself hard pressed against calloused
intolerance,
behind which is a wall,
and behind that wall,
an army

I pray you combust into flames and feathers at once should my name
birth from your lips

I pray my night guardsmen have eyes of eagles,
and my trumpeteers have breaths of behemoths should you ever encroach
upon my camp at dreaming hour

I promise to empress upon you pressure,
of a nature that spawns pearls, magma, and passionate revolution

But the only revolution that will come of your resistance is vertigo,
as you spiral downward into abysmal forgottenness

Now heed my words with intent lest you risk the fate of faded
bewilderment

May God be my strength as I destroy you

Eviscerate you

Annihilate you

I will obliterate you until the only remnant of your very existence
is but a vague memory,

of a fleeting idea

in a dream

inside a dream

inside a coma.

More at http://psalmsandpsychoses.com.

Placebo Belief – A Poem by Jahha

Faith is what you make it, so believe you a faith.
Insanity’s definition is no stranger to a truth that is
subjective and yet pawned on the masses.
Fear, guilt, and pain, are the vices that grips the imagination,
coerced mostly by an assortment of over zealous fanatics.
No proven creator of the universe vouches for such idealism, though
deemed to be logical nonetheless.

Et Alors – A Poem by Stan Morrison

the world’s gonna end tomorrow
Michio Kaku said so on YouTube
researchers with no degrees
repeated the very same words
or maybe it’s sometime in 2035
there’s really no telling for sure
why do we gotta know exactly
got no plans after the NFL game
regardless I’ve planned ahead
got my food water guns ammo
kill anyone knocking at my door
they’re just looking to take stuff
wild dogs feral cats prowling
Michio what should we do
are you sure of your dates
Michio we’re waiting for you
tell us now it’s not too late
Niburu isn’t coming here ever

My Credit Adjustor Nightmare – A Poem by Roy Pullam

He cupped his hands
Around the flames
of a kitchen match
Large, hairy knuckles
With a Bic tattoo
Spelling love
On one hand
And hate
On the other
The fraternal love
An orphan emotion
If his reputation
Was to be believed
Prison time
Numerous scrapes
With neighbors
The hardness
Of his face
Lies about his age
He has not worn well
With nicotine-coated, sausage fingers
And yellow teeth
His hands
Blocking his face
Assuring the flame
Allowing the unfiltered cigarettes
To burn
I sniff the tobacco
As he blows a stream
Into my face
The mixture of sulfur
From the match
And burning leaf
Creates a cloud
Floating across
His broken teeth
The cigarette burns down
As the light grows
Gray swirls
Circle my face
Like dirty cotton
The smoke is extended
Thinner still
Until it disappears
The remnant
Of a Budweiser
Sits beside an empty
His primitive ash tray
Ours is not a conversation
Just the bones of words
That transmits
Basic information
He does not have the payment
He is threatened
By my attitude
I dare not
Push the issue
There is a coldness
In this man
He promises
To have the payment
By the end
Of the week
I take his promise
Chewing on a sandwich
Of frustration and fear

Ghosts Are Not Scary – A Poem by Muskan Lamba

I’m sorry, but, ghosts are not scary.
They live inside me. They live inside you.
And without realizing, they consume us whole
Of course, they are here to destroy
But the destruction..? It’s so silent
And silence, so to say, is never scary.
These ghosts, they are not like monsters at all
Not even close to appearing evil or disastrous.

I am sorry, but, ghosts are not scary.
Once, they forwarded me their hand
And we ended up building a friendship together.
They told me their secret
Of being disguised as self-doubt, anxiety and anger.
And I told them mine; of being vulnerable.
Wish to know their hiding spot?
It’s beneath our skins, inside our hearts.

I am sorry, but, ghosts are not scary.
I think we have developed an in-depth understanding of each other.
They told me, “We ourselves are suffering
which is why we make you suffer.”
I sympathised. I think so do you.
And us being ever-so-welcoming, we let them in.
Ghosts of me. And ghosts of you.

I am sorry, but, ghosts are not scary.
Not to me.
I’ve been acquainted with them for far too long now
They’re as much a part of me
As I am of this world.
Though just a tiny speck,
but effortlessly infinite within.

I am sorry, but, ghosts are not scary.
Once, they forwarded me their hand
And we ended up building a friendship together.
I even told them my secret of being vulnerable.
They are… not scary.
How can they be?
Yet I am afraid.

More at https://muskanlambablog.wordpress.com.

Friends in America 2/22/17 – A Poem by Lee Rusch

We talked and laughed for a while
then grew serious
Abruptly.
Things had changed
We could not leave the surface
Feared what lay below
Though portraying some kind of strength
A nonchalance almost
We kept on
Knowing no exit
No end
But, you know, the end

And the past lay back there
Diminished
Not a prologue of anything really
Non-linear, random
It seemed
Considering where we all were now.

Experience and Paranoia – A Poem by G. S. Katz

Lately when I should be sleeping
I’m up and writing poems
Esoteric thoughts bleed through
While the owls are cruising main street

I’m not saying much these days
Letting the pundits spew their vitriol
Standing on the sidelines has merits
You don’t get hit with a pie meant for them

Living in NYC
Is like having a target on my chest
Terrorists want this prize
I just want a night’s sleep, dream free

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