Bitter divorce poems

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

Wow, Rat, that was beautiful!

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

I blue and quake in this rhythm
of sorrow, and lose loneliness
with you, my verse-vowed one.
The things our voices promised
from hearts of earnest, hearts
of wishful thinking, tremble
apart and from the regretful
remembrances of things we
should not have done and said
come the ends of us.

Azure promises like rainbow
riches begin to elude us both,
those sentiments of permanence
born on unstable ground, unstable
upbringings; becoming sallow
as goat liver, as acrid as our
vows when we promised to each
other we would cleave always.

When you were in love with me
you lied to both of our romances.
When you came to me with old
doubt on your tongue you told
the truth of these experiments.
We two have failed our search
for reassurance, our growings-
up with each other. My kidney
devastated from poisons of
kind misleadings is finally
giving out in the truth of you.

Perhaps I need a painful switch,
a transplant into knowing our
realities of lonesomeness.
Without the passions and bile
held tight within the sphere
of heartfulness in your life,
this parasitic vine of mine
has no garden to grow long in.
I shall let it wither and grow
instead tangy red tomatoes,
sisters of nightshade,
apples of romance,
poisonous fruit.

[Mangrove]

Nigel's a girl on a forum
Her husband lacked proper decorum
She's pouring her rage onto a poetry page
And asking her lawyer to gore 'im.

[Bebek Sincap Ratatosk]

Wow, Rat, that was beautiful!

Thanks

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

Nigel's a girl on a forum
Her husband lacked proper decorum
She's pouring her rage onto a poetry page
And asking her lawyer to gore 'im.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

From my capture
came no reward.
As lonely now
as you were before,
you want to throw
me away like a
thing you thought
you wanted.
This is your mistake
and my regret.
I gave myself to you
and you took willingly,
so it's too late,
too late, too late
to take it all back.
From my capture
came no reward.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

The first time you came
you barely touched me -
just enough to start the ache
and when you finally slowly
wormed your way inside
I died infested
I died.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

I like that.

I may be able to come up with some more rage. My obstacle is, in order to write effectively bitter poetry, I have to get drunk as fuck, and since my goal is to be a HOT bitter divorced single mother, I am currently not drinking in order to expedite the diminishment of my gut.

Maybe I will just have to start drinking selectively.

HOT! 

feel the rage Nigel, feel it.     Perhaps you could do shots of things, so you consume less, rather than have full blown cocktails, or a beer?

I go for the shot choice, or the red wine.

Because a little bit of red wine is good for you.

Also, I agree with the Dutchbag re: the capturing of the emotions.

In order to incorporate the advice in this thread into my life I have had a glass of wine.

I am working up to full-blown rage.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

However, I am listening to Spokane, which, although excellent breakup music, tends to promote lassitude rather than rage.

[Dysnomia]

aw those poems are so sad Nigel.   

FEEL THE RAGE

[Mangrove]

Nigel's a girl on a forum
Her husband lacked proper decorum
She's pouring her rage onto a poetry page
And asking her lawyer to gore 'im.

[Mangrove]

A divorce Haiku:

Die you fucker die
We're getting divorced today
Die you fucker die.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

  That totally hit the spot!

[Dysnomia]

A divorce Haiku:

Die you fucker die
We're getting divorced today
Die you fucker die.

[Mangrove]

That totally hit the spot!

Glad I could help.