#landfill
-
Greetings,
I am the empty chair you just recently
pushed into the carport like some unruly
child made to stand in a corner.
Not a new chair for sure,
but you made me _Your_ chair
by the force of gravity,
transforming my cushion into
perfect contours in the image
of your ***
Though you were always careful
if crumbs fell into me to get up
and brush them away,
and instead of just plopping down
hard on me, you sat gentle and easy,
even if only doing so to soften the
shock for yourself,
there were moments as you sipped beer
you let it slip through your bottom lip,
dripping on me with bitter aftertaste.
Still, I was forgiving of that, and even
to those numerous occasions of you
venting your evening meals.
But the one event that forever sullied our
personal relationship was the morning you
woke on me soaked in most of the past
evening's
~~brew
Though you tried to patch things up
with towels and scented sprays,
we were never to look upon
one another with the
same recognition
again.
I know now the days for me here number
far less than the buttons of the controller
you so frequently lost between my cushions,
giggling me in your efforts to retrieved it.
Although our separation will mean for me a
transformation into a twisted pile of springs,
stuffing, splinters and ripped cloth within the
bucket jaws of a front end loader in the snow,
I can take some comfort with me to the
resting pits of jettisoned human folly that
our severance was of no fault of my own.
yours truly,
Chair...
s jones
2007-2020
.
Dec 6, 2020
Dec 6, 2020 at 8:13 AM UTC
Take the dreams I once voiced so fondly
Take them and smash them to dust
Take those moments my heart was pounding
Take them for I know you must
Sweep them under the rug and forget them
Sweep them away without a thought
Sweep them so far I won't be tempted
Sweep them away like you were taught
Aug 16, 2014
Aug 16, 2014 at 2:55 PM UTC
The horizon lies asleep in a grey blanket
In a sea of myriad figures,
And an unimaginable silhouette.
The engineering of black feathers,
Sets ablaze hazy azure weathers.
The Art Decorates Towers,
Like giants with arms outstretched,
Look down commanding superiority
Over the volatile beauty of the wretched.
Who branded this Pandora’s Box to be garbage?
Stop turning your faces away
Like this is some butchery,
Or an abhorable carnage.
The dogs have repeatedly protested against the injustice
The heavy wind suppresses their voices and entices
A seduction of inarticulate silence.
Brothers who embrace us,
Have known nothing of such malices’.
Only the birds are left unenchanted;
Because they fly too high to be pervaded.
I hear children’s voices
And mothers’ too,
And taste the flies and insects,
And all the devils they shoo;
Because they understand not the complexities of a civilization,
They have never rendered their thoughts,
Never undergone no filtration.
The unconquerable spirit of this world,
Has made them savage,
Their claws curled.
In the heat, in the light,
In the plight
Which brings the cold night.
The sunlight here is too dense to penetrate,
Therefore it unabashedly spills over,
No opening,
Just a gateless emptiness on which to concentrate,
Lives and lives here,
Forever proliferate.
With none to remember their faces,
And no mortal soul to commemorate.
Dust settles upon the fingertips which talk.
This place is deemed unfit,
Unsuitable for a walk.
Yet birds, animals and humans alike,
Have stated their preference of what they like.
This land is perpetually theirs to ****
Passion resides here,
In this unintended landfill.
Jan 1, 2017
Jan 1, 2017 at 11:57 AM UTC
The streets
The latest landfill site
created by us
to ruin us
May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 2:27 PM UTC
Everything still exists,
and will continue to exist.
Every ruin, illegible or destroyed or altered
is here-
Not alive, but present.
Today,
we have heritage sights and landfills.
History is a Waste of our time.
It sticks like tar
in the Earth’s lungs.
I stood before the Great Pyramids
and I wondered if my
great grandchildren’s great grandchildren
will do the same when
our past stacks as high
Jul 12, 2017
Jul 12, 2017 at 8:57 PM UTC
the white lace dress hugs Her slender body
on this special day. welcome, all guests, to
this morning’s ceremony. we are so
thrilled you could join us. we are here today
to celebrate you. your contributions,
your impact. your footprint. do you know that
you are here to proclaim your affection
and commitment to Her? are you willing
to confess your love and protection to
Her? your hands begin to tremble, like when She
strikes the ground. you scoff, “yuck, *** not
knowing the truth. She woke in the hum of
june, broke a sweat, but felt a haunting chill
swim down Her spine, a crashing - a total
consumption of life. in the morning light,
can you see it? can you see the shape of
Her belly? can you see the shape of Her
pain, as she clings to Her life, scared, so scared.
holding Her stomach, cursing the wind on
a windless day. you will commit to a
lifetime of puffy eyes, fevers, meltdowns;
waking in a sweat, (but not your own) you
will hold Her hair as she coughs up the
most apologetic garden of words;
you will rub Her back as She weeps, calling
out, asking why bad things happen to good
people. no. She is so much more than you
or i. She has constant evergreen love –
“never dies” they will say, until they find
themselves digging Her grave. Everyone’s grave.
will we pile in together, like a
landfill? we’re wasteful, weren’t these things made
for waste? isn’t that what we are? a waste?
she exhales, and quickly whispers, “no”
She wipes Her eyes. She clears Her throat to share
how happy She is to have you. happy.
“do you take them to be yours, forever?”
(forever: until i die. until i
die for them.)
confidently, Her: “i do.”
“do you take Her to be yours, forever?”
(forever: until you **** Her. until
you **** Her. aware of your impact, your
footprint, you know what happens.)
You: “i do.”
“you may now kiss the bride!” – as the sun shines,
you close your eyes and lean in, and then you
wake up. break a sweat in the bitter cold
of december. this is quite far from a
celebration. it’s a nightmare, and your
hands tremble. uncontrollably. but this,
Her wellbeing, Her safety, Her life, this
you can control. what made you believe you
couldn’t? celebrate Her. apologize.
hug Her like the white dress. sincerely.
Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018 at 9:46 AM UTC