Poetry: Anger


Singeing my soul to its very depths!
I try to leave it behind! It depletes me!
But the angered and the incensed follow me everywhere!
Interrupting, disrupting , until rage manifests itself  in me!
Who shall countenance it? Always? This great detractor!
But yet again, it shows.


~Linus Fernandes


St. Anger

St. Anger (Photo credit: Wikipedia)


Anger Controlls Him

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)



low-ball effect

Image by Will Lion via Flickr

A world run riot not with color but anger.

A yell dots the air and yet another intersects it

before the reverberations of it’s echo have died down.

And your world seems a different one, an unreal one,

a faraway one, a dream one.

I dare not comment, I will not comment.

For nothing is what it seems.

And though I lived there once, I feel a million realities weighing me down.

I cannot convey the infantilism that surrounds.

And it is not infallibility that is in doubt.

The sureness of hate has no time for doubt.

                                                              – Linus Fernandes


Anger, real anger
In all its hues
Infuses color
My anger muddles my thinking
Dulls my motor reflexes
Ire, real ire
Risky business,
Flame on!
My rage grows cold
like a sliver of ice
In my gut.
I wash off my hands
off your tomfoolery.
I reck not,
I’ll shout!

For a couple of my other poems , look up www.poetry.com and search for poems by Linus Fernandes.