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Poetry Magnum Opus

Winds of Anger


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The hot winds of anger

blow across the frigid landscape.

Leaving only a desert

where flowers once grew.


Gone are the mighty oaks.

Gone are the gentle lilies.

Gone, the song birds

and the soaring eagles.


Deserted oasis;

poisoned waters;

parched bones

of the errant nomads.


Shimmers of promise,

mirages of hope,

proven elusive

on the arid horizon.


Travelers beware.

Drink not too deeply.

What seems sweet to the tongue

may sour in the belly.


I need to work on a few things.


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rhymeguy, I was just reading about the analyst opinions on Brexit. Then, I read your poem. Maybe it was just a coincidence but the tone and imagery of the poem made me reflect on Brexit :-) The piece buiild-up the imagery following a cause-effect formula and I liked it. This is just my opinion, I feel the second stanza would have been as strong even without the repeat of 'Gone'. Just my opinion.

"Words are not things, and yet they are not non-things either." - Ann Lauterbach

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Thanks Joel,

I wrote this poem about 10 years ago in response to a specific situation. Isn't it sad that the battles continue over the years.

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Clarity of emotion, and symbolism telling a vignette of a story. I like it.


"Unbearable, isn't it? The suffering of strangers, the agony of friends.

There is a secret song at the center of the world, Joey, and its sound is like razors through flesh."


"I don't believe you."


"Oh come, you can hear its faint echo right now. I'm here to turn up the volume.

To press the stinking face of humanity into the dark blood of its own secret heart."

"There's a starving beast inside my chest
playing with me until he's bored
Then, slowly burying his tusks in my flesh
crawling his way out he rips open old wounds

When I reach for the knife placed on the bedside table
its blade reflects my determined face
to plant it in my chest
and carve a hole so deep it snaps my veins

Hollow me out, I want to feel empty"
-- "Being Able To Feel Nothing" by Oathbreaker


"Sky turns to a deeper grey

the sun fades by the moon

hell's come from the distant hills

tortures dreams of the doomed

and they pray, yet they prey

and they pray, still they prey"
-- "Still They Prey" by Cough


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