"I'm Madly In Anger With You"

                                                            - James Hetfield (Metallica)


Metallica once released an album called St. Anger, a name taken from the title track which asked a very poignant question: Why doesn't "Anger" have a patron saint. Love has St. Valentine, Kindness has St. Francis and yet Anger has no such mascot even though today we are constantly being told that anger is healthy. So Metallica gave this feeling a nameless saint, namely St. Anger. 
Angry poems are easily misinterpreted as psychotic babbling or pointless rants, but Love poems are treasured. Yet as beings that started off as blank canvases we are all angry sometimes, it is part of what makes us human so it is just as important that we get mad as we get mushy. 
Probably the best in the business is Henry Rollins (you will note his name in the recommended reading list), former front man with Black Flag, occasional actor and public speaker. His poetry drips with venom when it needs to. He speaks his mind and his refreshing bluntness burns every page. His work offers a much needed tonic and there is not a better poet when it comes to expressing the "darker" feelings of the soul in verse.
When I started writing poetry so many moons ago (too many to my mind) it was all angry but I was a teenager so what did you expect? But the more I listen to that song and the more I read those poems, the more I want to try and get back into that mind frame and relieve myself of my "rage" in a productive manner. So I have done just that and what follows are my first attempts in quite a while. Perhaps you should try it too. It might make you a better person...  


****
Dead eyes hiding behind your bank accounts
Pressed shirts with bad patterns
I can feel my blood boil, my mouth dry up
I can feel my skin itching
And my muscles tensing
How much do you cost?
I'm surprised you're not wearing a price tag
Weekend coke addicts
Beating your wives for something to do
You get to feel big
For once
But you're small
Squashed by your own sickness
1 dimensional wastes
No weakness, right?
Bullshit


****
"You're so Artistic! So am I!"
Of course you are
That's why you stink of Guiness and
Sickly perfume
You stumble and slur your speech
The one about you being "like so creative"
I cringe and try to turn away
That clammy hand on my shoulder
Sticky from another spilt drink
Leave me alone, please.
You're giving me an autism
I can't concentrate and I'm recoiling
Your touch is like a grimey rag
Horrible
There's nothing for you here


****
Keep making light of her misery
Agony down to the ground
Keep poking it
Keep digging away
Do you really want to find my nerve
Keep pushing
I'm surprised I haven't thumped you already
I'm coming though
Just push my button
And I'll explode
All over you
In a hail of fury and pain
Pricks
Liquid lunches and bad jokes
Snobs without the class
If I had a handgrenade right now...
I'd watch your limbs rain down
And laugh at you
There's a special place in Hell
Waiting for people like you
I'll send you there
And watch you burn
If you like?


****
Stop calling me
Fuck off and stop calling
I don't want to know you
And your sickness
Bile in a cheap, shitty dress
If wretchedness was a noun
Meeting you
It's like stubbing my toe
Big tits and bad breath
You know that phrase
"Fuck off and die"
Well
It's not just a figure of speech
So
Fuck
Off
And
Die


****

Fucking talking heads
Why the fuck are you the authority
Failed Kids TV presenters
Broke comedians and nobodies
Telling us how to think
Wasn't that Eva Braun's job?
And the narrator's a druggie
Taking the piss out of people who tried
Sympering in prostitution
Ok, some of them are dicks too
But why keep bringing it up?
Is this what we are reduced to?
You all talk shit
Get a real job and stop telling me how to think
Why not try helping someone
Or taking a chance yourself
Fuck it
Just shut up and that will be enough
Cowards


****

It's your problem
Haven't I earned the right to walk away?
You've had my time, money, attention and help
My ears, my blood and myself
Little pieces of me which died
Now I'm going numb to you
And you're still talking at me
Pleading for pity
Eyes are the windows to the soul
Yours are fogging up
Mine are cracked and tinted
Just leave it
Go
Take your shit and get out
I'm not taking it anymore
You've had it all
You're not getting anything else
Go


 

***

Fucking sun

Gone behind a building have we?

Aren't you a clever bunny.

Just when I need warmth

As the chilled blood congeals

As the electricity freezes out

You run away

My skin is dancing with a thousand icy fingers

The tips of my fingers are worn with numbness

Coward


***



You were deemed worthy of life?

You?

Really?

Look at yourself

If you can

You fat, drunk, alcoholic piece of shit

Burnt out because of yourself

Stumbling about

Shit stained jeans

What a waste

Money in your pocket

Vodka and coke dribbling out of your mouth

Just fuck off and die somewhere

You'll get no grief from me

You won't be missed

Some starving child can have your food

Air and water too

He might turn out to be a prick

But he's still got a chance to be ok

You're spent

Worthless

No chance of saviour, so no sympathy

Why waste it

Given the gift of life

And you pissed it all away

Pointless

***

 

I've raped my own words

Pummelled them into a corner

For a quick buck

And 15 seconds of bullshit

If I could snatch them back

If I could blind you all

I would

You didn't deserve them

Not that they were much

But what does that say about you?

Now I can't even look at them

Twisted into painful forms

No truth, no beauty

Just your former plaything

My motley's off, and it ain't coming back

Take your offer and cut your veins

Roll it up and ram it in

End you now

And take this shit with you

 

***

 

 

He's Back.

I feel it in my fingertips again
Rhapsody of exquisite pain
Wracked with hatred, half insane
The Bad Guy. He's back again

You woke me up, you turned the key
It was you who set this monster free
If you doubt me, then you will see
Just how wretched I can be

Spin me lies and turn my head
Soon you'll know why I made me dead
The Good Guy was so willingly lead
But now he's gone, and I'm here instead

I'll make you wail, I'll make you cry
I'll laugh as life passes you by
Sink to your depths, it makes me high
And all you'll ask is "why, God why?"

So read these words and heed my rage
For now released from the pleasant cage
This Bad Guy's taking centre stage
An evil you'll find hard to gauge

You'll beg and plead before I'm through
It'll be so much fun to torture you
And watch you suffer, watch you stew
I'll feel all alive and new

So keep your distance if you can
Or you'll fall foul of my sickening plan
The Good Guy's dead you'll understand
And all that's left is this bad man.

Fuck you.
Fuck you very much.

***

 

Stick in the knife
Go on, twist it
Make my nerves scream
Contort my flesh
Draw blood and sketch my pain

I'll laugh at you anyway
Stab me more, shoot me more
Cut me, kick me, scratch me
Bite me
I'll still be laughing
You can't hurt me
Anymore than I can hurt myself

And when you're exhausted
When hurting me has hurt you
I'll rise again
And I'll take the knife from you
And I'll have fun

***

 

Never show him to me
Never let me see him
Never let me get within stiking range
Never think I'm over it
If it'll cause him pain I'll do it
If it'll cause you pain I'll do it
If I can make him suffer
If I can make him hate
I will

***