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The Children Of Anger...

Anger, an emotion. who's children are,
anxiety, fear, frustration, animosity, passion,
outrage and a thousands of other, emotionally
affecting articulations.

Anger, the replacement of reason.

What is the enemy of anger? The
enemy of anger, is, patience, understanding
and love.

Anger, the emotion, the world would be
far better off, without.

poem by Joe Fazio
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Between Man And Man!

the most heroic of men
expose themselves to the outrage,
and the ugly edge of indifference...

without a thought
for their own well being,
risk it all to bring about change.

not bound by the morality
of the fearful self-indulgent,
they open the wound

of their own failures and mistakes....
and so find the strength
to become fully human....

and so renew the bond
between man and man!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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We All Reap From The Value Of Our Investments

If one is not making attempts,
To place their best foot forward...
At all times.
With a mind connected,
To the environment...
And what is around them.
What voice can they claim with demands?

And raised in outrage,
That they are entitled to benefits...
Others who have worked at it,
Get.

We all reap from the value our investments,
Made.
And most times,
The come to equal our expectations.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Silence Of Indifference

if we do not write about rape issues
sensitive issues volatile issues explosive issues
if we do not voice our condemnation outrage

we then by default support these evils
with the silence of our indifference
with the silence of our fear cowardice

with our refusal to fight against injustice
with our refusal to fight prejudice inequality
with our refusal to fight for dignity for all humanity

poem by Terence George Craddock
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A Bitter Pill

Terrorism can be so frightening
A Black September of our times
And 'Bali' was one of the names
added to the list of crimes.

Terrorism is often so 'sudden'
No warning sirens are heard.
1939 had sirens and shelters
But terrorism is shockingly absurd.

This bombing outrage has a history
Of factions who kidnap and kill
And raids easily gain momentum
And the resulting horror is a Bitter Pill.

poem by Joyce Hemsley
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Yeats Died Saturday In France

Yeats died Saturday in France.
Freedom from his animal
Has come at last in alien Nice,
His heart beat separate from his will:
He knows at last the old abyss
Which always faced his staring face.

No ability, no dignity
Can fail him now who trained so long
For the outrage of eternity,
Teaching his heart to beat a song
In which man's strict humanity,
Erect as a soldier, became a tongue.

poem by Delmore Schwartz
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Narcissus

Encircled by her arms as by a shell,
she hears her being murmur,
while forever he endures
the outrage of his too pure image...

Wistfully following their example,
nature re-enters herself;
contemplating its own sap, the flower
becomes too soft, and the boulder hardens...

It's the return of all desire that enters
toward all life embracing itself from afar...
Where does it fall? Under the dwindling
surface, does it hope to renew a center?

poem by Rainer Maria Rilke
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Crazed With a Dazing Underwhelment

Maybe you do have a clue,
I have used your negativity to inspire.
Perhaps you are aware,
Your disdain enflames and motivates.

You can not be that unconscious,
That your presence ignites my excitement.
And if I can offer this advice...
Hopefully you will take!
Celebrate your madness,
With the acknowledgement...
I have taken your outrage,
And produced something great!

You should be delirious by now!
If not crazed,
With a dazing underwhelment.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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So Estranged

so estranged are we, on this outrage
exchanged, we trek on this range less the sage
powerless, breathless, penniless, even hopeless
thriving mess, we suppress, in disgrace, lots of stress
we transgress, and confess, and nonetheless on hydraulic press,
yet so strange, i wonder how, witn so many misfortunes & miscalculations
we survive, we revive, we are vilified: we are the masters of innovations
we mustered the complications and recovered our reputations.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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For The Clotting

seething yet silent in land of outrage:
strictures of life,
my eyes will not see the setting sun;

this was the blind spot
before the battle starts
and spine turns into ramrod in hot sun –

to speak the version of domestic grief
without lips because the death does not come alone,
she has a company

of corpses swelling the earth but she also
plays piano with two fingers only
pouring out milk and venom

for a long journey, we start unprepared
I will not fall asleep

poem by Satish Verma
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