On anger…

Anger

Red

Hot

Burning

Smouldering

Dampened,

or not.

Blazing out

of control

starting a forest fire

Or smothered

beneath spadefuls of earth

tendrils of smoke

drifting higher

Evil thoughts mix in to make a chemical concoction which spells danger and the fire is not put out, it is wild and uncontained and the town explodes with the furnace of fury unleashed and the scorched remains do not satisfy because it does not quench the thirst for conflagration.  Revenge.  And all wicked desires

rolled into a flaming snowball which grows with each revolution, the wind fallumphing it into exorcisms of ferocious rage.  and Discontent it cannonballs through the desolation to the next object of directed destruction.

Before fizzling

A mere powdering of carbon, left as a footprint on the doorstop.

As you wipe your feet

and your eyes plead to come in.

Quietly

and with diminished demeanour

and I wait

for the sound

of

conversation

picked up

from

where we were before.

 

{Editor’s note: I woke up with the word ‘paroxysms’ glowing in my mind.  And shuffled in with a yawn to edit the ‘exorcisms’ out of its place in my poem.  Then after much thought and extra googling, decided it would be cliche to have paroxysms of rage, and that anger does sometimes seek to ‘expel the evil’ from the target of its wrath.  Such as in a case of revenge.}

Paroxysm was perhaps an answer to the cliche ‘fit of rage.’

Other options could include: Seized with rage. An attack of rage. Sudden violent rage.  A fury of rage.  Whirlwind of rage.  Tumultuous tornado of wrath.  Demolition ball of destructive distemper.  Towering inferno of irascibility.  Bellicose belligerence.

Peace!

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  1. Burning Rage! | A Man Rebuilds

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