Evolving Emotions: Anger- Poetry

Rehashed Rage

 

I woke up angry

to the blaring of a machine

in a world I didn’t ask to be thrown into.

 

I’ll go to work angry

at my boss

at that thing I said five weeks ago that nobody remembers but

 

I sit there

at my desk

listening in on whispers I don’t care about and

 

Still, I am angry

driving home

away from irritations to more irritations.

 

I didn’t do my laundry

so I walk over filthy clothes

hit my filthy couch and stew in it

 

Until it’s time to go to bed.

I yank a t-shirt from the floor,

scrape my teeth,

flick the lights,

and fall asleep, angry.

Evolving Emotions: Anger- Poetry

A’s, B’s, C’s, and D’s

 

Planted on a peculiar carpet

you examine the lanes

sectioned off with yellow stripes

and white lines

 

Patches of green grass

encircle the buildings,

each with their own symbol

and saturated design

 

Behind you is a dull

knock

 

Against your back

lay the bulk of your once proud tower

 

A’s and B’s

C’s and D’s

strewn about the carpet

 

By your side

is a pigtailed girl

with pronounced teeth

and corduroy pants

 

She did this.

 

Swept up

you shriek and scream

a gut-wrenching howl

over the tower lost

and dignity torn

 

Tears flow down

with a scowl of bright fury.

Outstretched,

your hands wave

 

pleading for attention,

a witness to this injustice,

this crime of heinous intent.

 

You cry out for the giant

looming over the threshold

to bring about your uprising

and snatch her and her pigtails

in a fit of glory

 

With a turn of the head

thunderous booms

and scooping arms

 

The giants lifts you,

meeting the air

 

This is not what is just.

 

You shriek once more

flailing limbs to break free

from this traitorous captor

 

Your eyes meet the lettered blocks

and the hands

rearranging them

before you are carried away

 

For an hour-long slumber.

Evolving Emotions: Anger- Poetry

Morning

 

Flecks of glass across hardwood

shimmering in refreshed morning light

like faux emeralds.

 

Chair legs rest

splintered and sharp

near the toppled kitchen table

that you bought with her.

 

Looking down

knuckles: green and yellow

with blistery red accents.

 

Your eyes are red too

like burst fireworks

or spider webs.

 

Spent, you sit

on an old wine stain

the carpet carries

letting an empty home fill your head

with silence deserved.