The Pantomime Super to His Mask
Vast empty shell!
Impertinent, preposterous abortion!
With vacant stare,
And ragged hair,
And every feature out of all proportion!
Embodiment of echoing inanity!
Excellent type of simpering insanity!
Unwieldy, clumsy nightmare of humanity!
I ring thy knell!
To-night thou diest,
Beast that destroy'st my heaven-born identity!
Nine weeks of nights,
Before the lights,
Swamped in thine own preposterous nonentity,
I've been ill-treated, cursed, and thrashed diurnally,
Credited for the smile you wear externally -
I feel disposed to smash thy face, infernally,
As there thou liest!
I've been thy brain:
I'VE been the brain that lit thy dull concavity!
The human race
Invest MY face
With thine expression of unchecked depravity,
Invested with a ghastly reciprocity,
I'VE been responsible for thy monstrosity,
I, for thy wanton, blundering ferocity -
But not again!
'T is time to toll
Thy knell, and that of follies pantomimical:
A nine weeks' run,
And thou hast done
All thou canst do to make thyself inimical.
Adieu, embodiment of all inanity!
Excellent type of simpering insanity!
Unwieldy, clumsy nightmare of humanity!
Freed is thy soul!
(THE MASK RESPONDETH.)
Oh! master mine,
Look thou within thee, ere again ill-using me.
Art thou aware
Of nothing there
Which might abuse thee, as thou art abusing me?
A brain that mourns THINE unredeemed rascality?
A soul that weeps at THY threadbare morality?
Both grieving that THEIR individuality
Is merged in thine?
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Juggle abortion
In a beguiling torsion
Simpering applause!
haiku by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poem to my Dad
11/22/82
by Emma Beverage
They left him there
Like an empty shell
An empty shell - silent - still
They left him there
So we could stare
So we could stare
At this hollow shell
It looked like my dad
Had gone to sleep
Sleep, sleep, eternal sleep
Sleep that made my family weep
And as I stared, this thought grew
Thoughts would never - again pass through
My daddy’s head
My daddy was dead
Someone had come to steal his soul
I heard his footsteps shuffling - slow
I heard his footsteps
When they took his soul.
poem by Emma Beverage
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Excitement
To live your life in monotonous ways
turns you into an empty shell.
You must encounter excitement
or you create a living hell.
The emptiness can take right over
and change who you are,
an individual that's vacant inside
that will never reach for a star.
And the reaching is the important thing
for it keeps you glowing.
Others will see it in your eyes.
and soon you will be growing
into another version of yourself,
not that empty shell.
Become excited with the act of living
and uncreate that living hell.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Insanity
Insanity is too close to us all.
It waits on all the sidelines.
No one knows if it will come to call
for most don't recognize the signs.
Brain forgetting, name forgetting,
normalcy too upsetting.
Movement strange, blinking strange,
vision starts to change.
Seeing scenes that are not there,
hearing voices everywhere.
Talking continuously all day long,
cursing words that don't belong.
Vacant stares not there before,
happening now more and more.
Insanity is too close to us all.
It's right behind a vacant door.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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However, we might oppose it, abortion is a sad feature of modern life.
quote by Robert Casey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Type Of Man
What kind of a man goes after a married woman
What kind of a man does it and proclaims his faith in GOD
What kind of man does the things that he shouldn't
Does that type of man think that he will never be caught.
What type of man leaves his children and his wife
What type of man puts his needs and his wants first
What type of a man is scared to fight his own fights
Does that type of man cares whose soul that he hurts.
What type of man talks behind other peoples backs
What type of man lies to make himself look tall in front of others
What type of man is scared to admit the guilt that he has done
Does that type of man think that we are his brothers.
What type of man will not work for a living
What type of man wants others to take care of him
What type of man thinks he is something but he's not
Does that type of man thinks that manhood is his friend.
What type of man cannot be used as an example
What type of man does not keep promises that he's made
What type of man should not be father to any child
Does that type of man know the price that a real man has paid.
What type of man thinks but he cannot think
What type of man looks but he truly does not see
What type of man hears but he does not listen
Does that type of man know that he could never be me.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Not Forgotten
Not forgotten, although gone,
thoughts of you go on and on.
One clear picture and then another
come to mind as if to smother
any other scene where you're not there.
For I can remember you everywhere.
Not forgotten, although gone,
I awaken and again I'm drawn
back from dreams to reality.
Yes you're gone, not your memory.
Another day that I must face.
I stare again into vacant space.
Not forgotten, not by me.
With open eyes I still can see
every feature, every look.
To me you were an open book.
Nothing hidden on any page,
now I'm trapped in this worldly cage
without you.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There is no excellent beauty that hath not some strangeness in the proportion.
quote by Francis Bacon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There is no excellent beauty that hath not some strangeness in the proportion.
quote by Francis Bacon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Totally Hopeless
You sit in the back of the class
Your blue eyes stare
The gaze is cold and calculating
Arms over your chest
You sit there silently
You act like you don't care
Barely saying a word
Your dirty blonde hair
Glints in the lights
You stare still
I want to break that shell
Crack it open
To hear more words than three
It's totally hopeless
Yet I hope still
poem by Autumn Winds
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Abortion (1-6)
Abortion #1
Watch them
slaughter
the child
and
'dispose'
of it.
Abortion #2
A life snuffed out
before it can begin.
No chance to love,
to grow, to learn
to live;
no chance to do anything.
A life
just created
and destroyed.
Abortion #3
A quick flow of blood
a tiny corpse.
A baby murdered,
it's mother leaves the clinic
continuing to live her life
unlike her child.
Abortion #4
Tears
dropp from Heaven
as another child is murdered.
A soul without a name
unwanted by its own mother,
robbed of its right to live.
I pray for you.
Abortion #5
As you go to get your abortion
remember that at this moment
you are alive
and able to kill your child
because your mother
did not choose
to abort you.
Abortion #6
Abortion
is not murder
any more
than shooting a little baby
in the back of the head
is murder.
poem by Zachary Zuccaro
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I do not believe in abortion at will. I do not believe that if a woman just wants to have an abortion she should... I do believe if you have an abortion you are committing murder.
quote by Nancy Reagan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Defeated Republic
What we were we are no more.
With funds in the wrong amounts hitting the wrong hands comes a large demand.
To sacrifice morals for important policies that will not be dictated by you.
A powerless embodiment of the people but not for the people.
An empty shell with gloss put on it to make it shine as a distraction with no true interaction.
A pot of gold to find.
In visions, I seen this coming but not so soon.
It is a defeated republic.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Love is conditioned
Love for one is in proportion
To the influence you wield.
Concern for one is in proportion
To the identity you have.
Respect for one is in proportion
To the trust you have.
Don’t expect more than the due.
16.08.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Game of Stare
There’s a boy with his fellow
I caught his eyes with a wander
Now the game has been played
Now you have been challenged
You better asked my name
Before anyone came
But you only stare, stare, stare
Like I annoy your safety ring
Like you can’t even think
You only stare, stare, stare
Like I lose you something
Something you can’t even win
There’s boy in the dance floor
I catch his eyes, he comes closer
Now the game is replayed
Now you better watch out
You better take me out
Before someone calls you coward
Cause you only stare, stare, stare
Like you never see me in dress
Like no one else who dares
You only stare, stare, stare
Like I steal you something
Something you can’t even think
There’s a boy in the park
He makes me catch his eyes
Now the game is forward
Now you don’t want to break up
You better have a word
Before you loose your hold
And you only stare, stare, stare
Like a puppy wants a bone
Like you’ll be lost if I’m gone
You only stare, stare, stare
Like I can give you something
Something you think you can’t win
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Sky
It was 16 degrees below freezing today.
The sky was blue, bright and vast.
I looked more closely at the sky
And it was suffused by sunlight, the same bright sunlight
That you are bathed in.
There was a corner of the sky that was grey and empty
Where you usually are.
I resolved to look more deeply, more intensely
At this vacant part of the majestic sky.
The deeper I concentrated, the more you emerged
And I found you again, in the sky of my mind
In the tapestry of my feelings and thoughts.
Across wide continents, you are here
And the empty part of the sky dissolves
Into a rich portrait of your days and nights
Where the earth beneath our feet unites.
poem by Frank Bana
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There is no excellent beauty that hath not some strangeness in the proportion.
Francis Bacon in Of Beauty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Demons
We all have our demons
that drag us down into an abyss
from time to time.
An abyss where it seems
there is no way out.
Its dark corridors
close in on us
trying to smother us
with nothingness.
It excludes all glimmers
of hope in our lives
as it drags us down
deeper into its blackness
leaving us just an empty shell
with no vacant thoughts.
Just a suffocating emptiness
in which to dwell.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The shell
Look what a beautiful shell of ivory white
Recently thrown at the sands by the rushing tide
See what a lovely shell a pad of a soft sloth snail
Small and pure without the notoriety of a pearl
Lying on the back of sand hill so nigh to my foot
Brittle, frail spared by the violent breakers loot
Oh what mind what hand has made it so fairly well
Ah, empty, vacant from the creature that within it dwells
Its delicate spire and whorl
How exquisitely are weaved its stripes of colors in whole
A miracle of design, that lives through ancient time
No less in beauty and charm than a poet rhyme
A piece of beauty is called a 'shell' by man
Not a pearl, not a jewel but unmoving dull clumsy name
A 'shell' which does not recall any treasure or historical fame
Let him who did not create it call it as he can
He who passes by it without notice, this pleasure from his eyes to ban
Yet this beauty holds in the sands and its charm contends the same
Copy rights 2010
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That One Time, When I Saw Her Eyes
I caught a glimpse once,
A long silent stare
Amidst the sickly sunshine blare
Of the green marble starlight show.
The stone lifted and all was gone
Amidst that sultry stare,
Body and soul submerged
Into the midnight pupil
Centered in that
Green marble starlight
Caught within said awkward stare.
Yes, that shell, that silly schoolyard show
So succumb to the
Might of that mystic
Green marble starlight
Glow
And all was right, yes all was right,
If only for a second
Until her shell stood up to go.
(2011)
Samvel Aleksanyan © All Rights Reserved