#recycled
the deep **** on air
something needs the oxygen
could be my mind or my heart
more likely the blood that runs
runs around it all, recycled
time and time again, recycled
nothing new in heartbeats
same old thoughts
the deep **** on air
something needs the oxygen.
Feb 16
Feb 16, 2026 at 9:05 AM UTC
No ghost dancer gave me eyes,
eh, who says
You were not there, you did not see.
the people fleeing bombs bursting in air,
oh, say, can you see, the Hotchkiss crews, cheering
as they watch forty or so shells in each series,
so many, like nine of those guys, shooting two,
breechloading cannons, field artillery with airburst
shrapnel rounds at fleeing women and children,
and some, went so stark raving mad, after that,
we had fifty years of drunk indians, life was hard,
nobody had sense enough to sit still and forget,
let it go, as no hold on me, no papers pending
retribution for the life I had, no, I smile, I'm okeh,
I gotta good seed sown some time ago, fruits every year,
just needs a good five decades to get through the rock
Hwéeldi, meaning "the place of suffering.
Hard won wise ways we out live the liars,
Peace is easy, War is hell, and hell is an idea,
not a very good one, it doesn't make sense,
it does make dissonance, too loud, alarm
or gears needing grease last year, is why
prayers who pray for shows, ticket sellers
wives and children, pray for shows success,
attract all the attention in the world, just so
should you ever befriend a dead Marine, say
semper fi, and be ready to be asked, do you
have any idea what that really means,
{meet the spirit of Sgt. John Wikel, as imagined}
after you think about ever for a while,
bed bound, no strolls, no relaxation
but kind and considerate wiping,
so a soul so vulnerable doesn't
feel like, you know, people say ****
I say it, too, but, I don't think about it
legit, idle words, we can cook witshitwished
regretted never fretting yeast, as in us, code,
identical yeast code, runs in us, okey
that's new, right, I learned that, today, so
I can still work a thought up from a meander.
Dine'
concept of Hózhó—
Ai defines as
a totalizing philosophy
of beauty, balance, and universal order
that governs every aspect
of the physical and spiritual world.
Jan 14
Jan 14, 2026 at 10:08 PM UTC
Love & love not,
Live and not to love;
Death should be better
Were I read the letter
Of forget our stitched knots.
Live & live not,
Love and not to live;
Life could be no worse
Than in longing for that
Which itself draws no breath.
Apr 15, 2025
Apr 15, 2025 at 7:25 PM UTC
When I die
I wish to be
recycled
Cut up into pieces
of useful and useless
parts
and distributed
where I'm needed
most
To serve the world
one
final
time
When I die
I don't want a coffin
Or to be dressed up and posed
as if I am sleeping
For we all know I am not sleeping
I do not want to be burned
Or preserved by chemicals that only
delay
the inevitable
I want to be a part of nature's
cycle
To be eaten by my arthropod friends
and torn apart by wild things and scavengers
To assist proudly in medicine, science, and nutrition
for all the world's species
When I die
Do not bury my body
For I no longer inhabit it
Cast that rotting sack of flesh aside
and use it for good
When I die
do not mourn me
Do not say
"rest in peace"
for I am not resting
Do not say
"gone but not forgotten"
For I am not gone, and will soon be forgotten here
When I die
Celebrate all of the memories
The good and the bad
Tell all my secrets
Read all my poems and letters
Perhaps you will finally understand me
Feb 24, 2025
Feb 24, 2025 at 11:12 AM UTC
What can you do that hasn't been done before?
There are but the same words
To churn and repeat
Taking on a new form
With each different pen.
Jun 12, 2020
Jun 12, 2020 at 10:10 AM UTC
Reused and recycled,
I gave my heart to you.
Scratched and scarred,
Oh, if you only knew,
Stumbling in the dark,
Without a clue.
Cold and empty,
So frozen it's blue.
It doesn’t belong anymore,
So I gave it to you.
Reused and recycled,
Maybe you can make it something new.
Ana
Jun 6, 2020
Jun 6, 2020 at 11:29 PM UTC
I lay here and think to myself
the most beautiful words have been written forgotten and learned again
Whispered through time to embrace the moment for a thing that is not a thing; love
Apr 2, 2020
Apr 2, 2020 at 10:01 AM UTC
Funny how easy
Loves appears to be, until
It laughs with the other easily
Reconcilable "maybes"
That devalue your first "hello".
First, it began as "hello".
Little did you know how
Interested he would be in you, but
Reflecting on it now, you see how those
Tender tendencies weren't exclusive.
Finally, all you have left is "hello",
Like every other girl he knows.
Inevitably, you're one of many
Recycled pretties that thought
They were more than another "maybe".
Apr 28, 2018
Apr 28, 2018 at 12:31 AM UTC
I wish I could
make a bouquet
out of words
left unused
Mama always said
not to waste food
well
why not words:
the unit circle
The Boy with
// W47 “The Boy //
Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 2:53 AM UTC
stay safe and hidden
in my arms you’ve built a dream
when the cold is too much
i'm another breath for you
the warmth never runs out
fingers trailing on hips
poking surfaces with fingertips
smudged lipstick on pale cheeks
rumaging through strands of hair
i pick at thoughts through eyes
and they are too honest
forgive me for wanting too much
when you were all that i wanted
freedom to feel
within embraces
regain pureness
real and revealed
Nov 4, 2017
Nov 4, 2017 at 11:04 AM UTC
This is what I am
And what I was
For as long as I could remember
I was trash under your feet
Only trash that could be thrown away
Whenever you felt like it.
I was treated like trash
So I thought I was trash
I thought I was only good enough to be used
And abused
And cut
And bruised
I thought I deserved it because of you
I was trash
But trash doesn't always stay trash
It gets found
Treated like it isn't trash.
Pampered because it was never trash.
I am trash
No I was trash
But now I am not
Because trash doesn't stay trash forever
Sometimes it gets recycled.
Jul 5, 2017
Jul 5, 2017 at 3:34 AM UTC
Yeah, I'm there
recycler, of my trash
words, lines and poetry
not too vain, or brash
I try not to litter
but **** sometimes it's hard
haphazardly discarding prose
like an ugly drunken bard
The yard needs attention
as scattered here and there
haiku's that didn't work
free-verse, I wouldn't share
Bring me my broom
and my dustpan too
recycling text, and making room
for another line, or two
Apr 28, 2017
Apr 28, 2017 at 12:38 PM UTC
Today, I have not seen the sun.
Tonight, I will not see the moon.
Tomorrow, I will not see clouds,
Nor the stars.
I will be nothing but a collection of memories,
Good, bad, none at all?
Digging deeper, always deeper.
I burrow further into the soft cool soil,
Becoming one with the earth.
Over time, like this corporeal body,
The memories of me will slowly dissipate.
Granting me the freedom to rejoin the Universe.
Finally, I am home.
Today, I have not seen the sun.
Tonight, I will not see the moon.
Tomorrow, I will not see clouds,
Nor the stars.
For I am the Universe.
Sep 15, 2016
Sep 15, 2016 at 11:44 AM UTC
we were inside a gazebo
alone together
with salt caramel beer on our hands
and sticks of nicotine
to syncopate our life spans
to fill the dead air,
you thought it was a great idea
to talk about our vices
you asked me why
i drink and smoke
i told you that
***** is like my own personal body of water
my ocean,
my river,
my stream,
my sea,
my dead sea
where i could either sink or swim,
even float effortlessly
and i only smoke when
heaving a sigh is not enough
i threw the same question right back at you
and you said
you have always been a sucker for winning
so you drink to outdrink
and smoke to outsmoke
your buddies
but most of the time, yourself
we may have different reasons
but we both agreed that
we are at our sanest when we are at our drunkest
you gave me another bottle
and asked me if i was
up for a challenge
i nodded at you
and that's the last thing I could remember
Aug 25, 2014
Aug 25, 2014 at 7:40 AM UTC