"abolition" poems
at times we tend to think
our democracy is safely founded and secure
only eventually we recognize
the need to constantly defend its fundamental rights
work steadily against their stealthy abolition
watch carefully the words of politicians
lest they betray what they pretend to say
think twice for whom we cast our votes
avoid contenders who too often bray
that these were not their quotes
listen to those who have good arguments
do not unleash too easy sentiments
and in the end cast our votes when called
in short
democracy turns out to be hard work
in case we shirk this
we soon pay the price
unfree societies have known
dictatorship corruption vice
have often needed centuries
to remedy injuries done
to find their four freedoms
and to recognize
democracy remains a living promise
a brilliant idea with many faces
always a work in progress
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 11:17 AM UTC
Like a meme of activism
This women's coalition
Mothers
Sister
Friends
Pioneers and heroines
There's courage in their convictions
A guild of collectivism
They hold luncheons in their kitchens
Talk of abolition
Mysticism
Feminism
Of heroes and magnetism
Seduction
Love
Eroticism
They scream like banshees at a crucifixion
About injustice
Dereliction
Terrorism
A tradition underwritten
With symbolism
Drums
Violins
Musicians
They may be sitting
They may be knitting
Baking muffins
Folding linen
Running errands
Stuffing chickens
A juxtaposition to their ambition
Of inspiring the unwilling
Turning derision to optimism
Their fire and brimstone
Will have history rewritten
Freedom of reproduction
Liberalism
Animism
They have wisdom
Intuition
Rhythm
They are fearsome
This women's coalition
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 4:07 PM UTC
Isolationist theories
of my brutal development
A mask
In the world of passengers
Regretting every slight disruption
Making icy chatters of teeth
As we wonder
How will these small altercations
Affect the grand course
of my surreptitious collapse?
Just a violent object on an axis
A washer head
thrown into a tumultuous ocean of visions
A flickering correspondent
Lying on an abolition
The worst things happening to the best people
It spins and breaths and *****
This molested scared demon
Anally penetrating all that I believe is genuine
Reels of my childhood development
Played on repeat to search for ammunition
The tunneling rib cages of my insanity
The forest nymph of all that is good
The one who created me
Locked away in a windowless world
Analyzed as if lockness was one of them
I always thought it would be me
Falling to where I could not be found
How am I still standing?
Nov 30, 2010
Nov 30, 2010 at 9:35 AM UTC
I'm gonna follow my intuition
I don't need your permission
I'm the one for this position
I'm breaking free
Of common tradition
I can be who I am
I don't need to audition
I am who I am
The only edition
I used to be sick
In a dark addiction
But I broke free of that condition
My mind is clear
I know my ambition
No longer living
In fear of suspicion
There's not one definition
For the text editon
Heart driven
Proposition
For my expedition
Opposite of our traditional
I need abolition of competition
And prohibition of intermission
Apr 4, 2014
Apr 4, 2014 at 11:22 AM UTC
306
The Soul’s Superior instants
Occur to Her—alone—
When friend—and Earth’s occasion
Have infinite withdrawn—
Or She—Herself—ascended
To too remote a Height
For lower Recognition
Than Her Omnipotent—
This Mortal Abolition
Is seldom—but as fair
As Apparition—subject
To Autocratic Air—
Eternity’s disclosure
To favorites—a few—
Of the Colossal substance
Of Immortality
2.2k
the real question is not
whether god exists
but whether you believe in one
no matter which denomination
do you believe
that there is someone
who commands your fate
created everything
makes earth move and the universe
protects the good and punishes the bad
and will reward you after death
according to the life you led
with everlasting bliss
or fiery hell eternal
or do you rather think
that it is our responsibility alone
to live in peace
not war
protect all life
not only our own
and not pretend
that hunger sickness
lack of water and clean air
are simply natural
if you are a believer
remember all religions
respect all forms of life
if you are prone to think it's humans' obligation
remember those who do believe
may also strive to do their best
the common goal of all
should be the recognition
that whatsoever god
may have created us
would not have wished
for our abolition
Jan 1, 2016
Jan 1, 2016 at 6:11 PM UTC
Would the World hold on
when in subconsciousness
of every homini haunts
the unforgiven horrors:
the mass destruction,
abolition, slaughter,
genocide, slavery
wages, sweat, and treason.
Please, unnamed power,
send me on another planet.
I want to resign. I want to resign.
Nov 2, 2015
Nov 2, 2015 at 3:05 PM UTC
She confused him, that creature of The Wild.
He belonged to her, without a shadow of doubt.
But she was the moon to his sun, The darkness to his light.
She was the yin to his yang, and the throes of fire that consumed his sea.
While he conquered worlds,
She stayed trapped in her self erected prison.
And as her flew to the universe beyond reach,
She sank in a bottomless pit.
And yet,
He was drawn to her.
Like the cycle that held day and night,
And the inexplicable line between captive and Captor.
One could not exist without the other,
But neither, could they exist together.
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 2:10 PM UTC
What's in his mind?
One cup of labor
Two scoops of pain
Three scoops of lust
Issues with trust
Four cups of distress
One more for the rest
And five milligrams
of pessimism at best
**What's in his heart?
One tablespoon of pride
Two teaspoons of shame
A spoonful of ambition
One third expedition
Two-thirds of abolition
A half a cup of absentee
Another half depravity
What's in his soul?
A recipe I have yet to know
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 2:26 AM UTC
Come on pilgrim,
vamos east
to Jerusalem and Mecca,
ferried from Algeciras to Tangier.
King James told me some stories,
he'd give me a ride, and
we can pull what we want
on abortion and abolition,
strung on a thorny rope
out of H. Christ's tight little *******
Black Francis, Picasso, and S. Dali;
chicos guapos, you are good to me.
I fight Pablo, a different one,
through Robert Jordan (ingles)
Pablo, eres un cobarde, go and
get gored by your bullheaded stupidity.
General,
I'll wander the labryinth,
slicing up eyeballs (oh ** ** **
unable to leave the room.
(they're only cow eyeballs, don't worry)
You Spaniards!
Yo hablo un poquito,
but those men
speak to my heart.
Apr 1, 2013
Apr 1, 2013 at 2:58 PM UTC
Tomorrow never comes.
Tomorrow morphs into today, growing tentacles of pressure and deadline slinking round precious time.
Tomorrow is the myth that keeps us going into the hazed purple dark, only to vanish in bleaching daybreak.
Tomorrow is the pipedream we search for in bedsheets, neglecting the canaries of impending doom, the warming abolition of plague civilisation.
Tomorrow seems detached, pushed into the outer orbit like the catastrophic bombs hailing and howling in Syria.
Tomorrow hates us today a mongrel race but yearns for yesterday, the tender embrace of tinted times, always better
Tomorrow feels the wound of every hour passing by and sets feet into erratic stuttered taping heart breaking out of caged chest, passive but untamed,
Tomorrow is sitting waiting for all of us, unsure when we're to arrive, shaking stripped down in a naked hot mess seeing the damage we've done today, fearful of more pillage and ****
Jan 28, 2019
Jan 28, 2019 at 12:41 PM UTC
***What saves a poet's sanity
soup and salad of the mind
comforted with scattered warmth
& lines drawn in the sand
are there ever any perfect words
I draw blood from my pen
overflowing vessels of circumspect denial
pondering an accepting benevolent heart
discriminating souls wave a vigilant flag,
poetry a force of conjecture and calculated risk
speaks who and what we are without completion
I lie naked on these shores of cadenc'd bliss
a'waiting a fate worse than creativity's abolition
confirmation comes served in slices of firmament's breath~
exhaling again to capture the essence of vaulted contention***
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 6:31 AM UTC
Waterloo Dreams Spent!
Outstanding.
His love.
In a fine muddle of loss,
In a pre-conceived idea.
The way to turn obliterated.
Imaginations images obscured.
Blocked by blinding light.
A nutcase in rebellion.
Without acknowledgement.
Love,
She left her emotions on the platform.
Down at Waterloo.
All the love she ever felt,
Turned deepest sapphire blue.
Abolition on the tissue,
She used to wipe her weeping eyes.
Along with words of worship.
Unjustly spent.
Before truth came along.
Then away she went.
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Oct 2, 2013
Oct 2, 2013 at 1:26 PM UTC
my beautiful body is killing me,
it longs to seek no rest.
even without weighing myself
every hour is a moral test.
do i even want to be here?
could i be here and just be me?
but every minute is an endless sea
reminding me that i'm never free.
most days i feel like i was never meant to be
because my beautiful body is killing me.
my beautiful body is killing me,
it keeps me as cold as ice.
i no longer feel my fingers from the moment i arise.
and even when i want to eat,
looking at a plate of food usually suffices'.
and i don't want to be this way anymore,
i don't want to be alone.
i don't want to wonder for the rest of my life wondering what its like to have a home...
but no one holds me close enough anyways,
so alone is usually the best way to go.
when i fade away from everything i have ever known,
my beautiful body reassures me its okay -
that its probably better off to die this way.
that i was a failure when i was around them every day.
that i couldn't ever keep up with any game life ever tried to bestow to my name.
and its just better this way.
its just better this way.
my beautiful body calls so much attention,
but never any real recognition.
no true understanding of how strong a mission
it afflicted me with for total abolition.
to leave my mother with all of my favorite sweaters,
in an empty room with empty boxes,
packing away her daughters necklaces and lockets
and praying that it never ended up this way.
that her daughter could just come back one day.
that she had never become a spiritual stray.
that i had never become an apparition with no face, or no name.
my beautiful body is not beautiful,
it ravages me whole. every day that could of been happy
that anorexia stole. i can't help but face the reality that
i'm no longer on parole
i'm back in it again. and i don't want to be.
so don't call me beautiful please.
you just have no idea so you really can't see
how much of a waste of life i grew up to be.
Jan 22, 2025
Jan 22, 2025 at 3:58 PM UTC
off with the mask of religion
an atavistic projection
in a sleeping catacomb
Gods
desire lives in the human heart
we are as he and she
unholy until fused in ecstasy
God and Goddess
in a state of perpetual expanding ******
his mouth upon her sumptuous *****
she upon his pedestal of rainbows
her loving slave
her feet sweeten the earth
her ******* mouth and haunches
consumed
oh she a writhing moon
her throat and womb engorged with his pulsing shaft
giving praise
aqueous diamonds spilling
glitter and cream
manna from heaven
she undulates and coos
a glistened drool
pleading take all
her vaginal cauldron eternal darkness
red tulips blazing
a burning bush
the place of creation
he,
a point of light
everywhere with in her
inseparable
a fire of adoration burning them alive
their love a fever so hot
that even hell cant stand the heat
exit door
no way out
life a glaring dream work
without the abolition of time
having no more victims to devour
we must devour ourselves
towards an original form of lived existence
beyond this tragic universe
ill love you like a god
and **** you like the devil
so bend down low sweet girl
your beautiful ***
my altar of devotion
I give thanks to your curving form
you are my lord's prayer
my catechism
like father
like son
Feb 3, 2018
Feb 3, 2018 at 12:41 PM UTC
An admiration for abolition.
Close quarters conversation, and demolition.
Obstructive outbursts, constructive concerts,
and outraged rebellious rallies.
They preach round words, and mastered mortality catalysts,
soaked like dish towels.
Pen and paper,
barbed double edged razor wire,
and sharp teeth.
Hand tapered fine meats; an electrified man- reviver.
Perplexed attire,
liquor bottles and glass houses.
Insane models, fake **** in skin blouses.
Weaved baskets of silver trash,
and packed ground ashes.
The masses, pained by stained caskets,
and back lashes.
Oblivion shoves, and the brain passes.
The sadness.
Fertilized territories,
and athletes with vein madness.
Getting laid, and LED light brigades,
November no-shave, and long hair with viking braids.
Homeless, with no car and bike less.
Filling lungs up with nitrous.
Instantly flightless,
and magazines full of white ****** spiteness.
An officers flashlight kiss.
Nervousness, and ****** lips.
Love confusion, brought on by a ****** fist.
Lucrative ways to hang and sway.
Dangle from the chain of a rich gang banger,
as he fades to grey.
Rude assumptions, and high heeled country bumpkins.
Cracking the asphalt with their steel toes thumping.
What a great place to be.
Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 9:37 PM UTC
Take up your arms , boys, down at the ferry
Purge the evil with the blood
Blood of us
Blood of them
Blood of my father and your father
And our father's fathers
Tainted with turning the other cheek
Or openly accepting
The life degraded through *******
Take up your arms, boys
For martyrdom is a far better pedastol
When formed of the bodies of the innocent
Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 5:42 PM UTC
Advertise my soul,
capitalise from my sins.
Dig the earth for coal,
a market built for kings.
Suppress for your control,
fill your life with things.
Abolition of self-control,
a life attached to strings.
Nov 28, 2018
Nov 28, 2018 at 3:31 AM UTC
Shame! What it is.
Unlike guilt, makes your soul wilt,
unlike guilt, shame focuses on blame!
Your experience?
Pain!
No repentance,
no contrition,
no sincere abolition,
all about condemnation!
You ask yourself,
Would you leave if you knew me,
Would you scold me?,
or Would you hold me while I shake uncontrollably?!
Shame!
A cycle of pain,
ruptures and fissures,
Grace?
There’s no space!
Instead a race to hide,
not to confide.
Keeping secrets,
keeping pain,
Being broken,
being shamed.
Disgracing your nation,
Facing temptation,
Experiencing alienation.
Cultures clashing,
teeth gnashing,
self-bashing,
Shame,
what it is!
Oct 29, 2018
Oct 29, 2018 at 12:18 PM UTC
“And this drab spirit craving in sad eagerness,
Many basilisk twist and snarl afore my feet,
But every hour I am saved from that eternity,
Something silent is surely more deserving,
Far on the ringing plains of windy ancient Troy,
I am a part of all that I have met all once before,
Yet all is a reality in mind forever and ever,
To rust spotted to always shine in use!
Altruist of courage where fore art thou,
Though the eupnea to my trivial life,
Endeared face of dawn from twilight glows yet,
I shall follow the sinking star for knowledge,
I don't know if time is passing or not,
Does it come together or as druthers?
Or is my future to be piled all at once,
Seek I still the truth divine in hopes to gain,
Take my hand and share divinity with me,
Abolition me thoroughly from my iniquity,
Surely it takes a lifetime to get over such pain,
I never thought of an unhappy ending to procure,
I spent an entire life stuck in the labyrinth,
Thinking about how I will escape it and say,
Imagining what the future may hold for me,
How it will be on that formidably glorious day,
By Andrew Guzaldo 09/26/2018 ©
Sep 25, 2018
Sep 25, 2018 at 8:08 PM UTC
Abandon de soi
A la lumière
d'un clair de lune
Démission
Rupture
A la faveur d'un clair obscur
Se retirer
A pas feutrés
dans le silence
en partance
vers la voie lactée
Départ
pour un ailleurs
aux confins des mondes
Déployer ses ailes
Prendre son envol
vers d'autres rivages
Abolition du temps
et de ce passage
Ultime voyage
Dans le sillage
des Etoiles
caro royer
Dec 30, 2016
Dec 30, 2016 at 3:23 AM UTC
I feel it in my blood
Something misunderstood
Differentiating my existence and anxious fits
Compelling my dark blue mind and everything I hide behind
Impale me on your absorbing pathological mind state
Resurrect me on your inexplicable time frame
Redirect me to something a little less insane
Find me tucked beneath the darkest parts of your membrane
I can't feel, therefore I'll never heal
I'm stuck somewhere that shows how I can't even remember what brought me to kneel
Absence and existence, abolition to everything that they made me sick with
Doubt
Discovery
Disregard to you
Self absorption through me
Writing these ******* fallacies and blood on the wall
I never fell, just remembered how you taught me the worst things I recap
You were too aware to fall
Too complacent to install yourself into all that I lost
I got so lost
I was never completely found
Nothing makes sense because I'm so far behind
So far behind the time frame you created and the time frame that is so tame
Everything that makes you complain
Moan a little more, baby boy, your tears don't sound like pleasure
You make my pleasure sound like pain
Keep on throwing up word ***** about how I'm so insane
Keep unbuttoning her blouse with the thought of my name
Jul 11, 2015
Jul 11, 2015 at 12:23 PM UTC
Marx was a poet who sung in divinely wrought cadences
If I'd have been alive then I'd have begged to have been acquaintances
A creator-icon who remade the world in the image of his heart's genius
Attesting to his mind's pure telos, it's generosity and cleanness
He revolutionised Love in to a radical democracy between souls
The superfluous bourgeois emotion with its poverty appals
He knew Hearts are created equal, but corrupt by society
Which poisons and prisons the soul in its entirety
The abolition of possession will liberate the spirit
From the bars and chains that inhabit it
And all will love in passionate idealism which transcends the material game
Love in the age of socialism is marvellous, aflame.
Feb 16, 2017
Feb 16, 2017 at 4:21 AM UTC
Mission Impossible
Your mission should you choose to accept it?
May be tougher than total disease eradicated
Slower than abolition of third word poverty
No pinnacle as high as a career in true poetry
You will be deprived of all satellite navigation
Ostracised b friends n fair weather neighbours
Unarmed just words are your feeble protection
Your existence denied , should they ever get u
Let me warn you my brave poet friend
Take heed, you may think it no problem
Write all this free verse indeed w’ a vengeance
But once your outside defending fair maidens
Vanity n pride are left behind at your station
Your mind be clogged with a million quotations
This text , it destructs thru your own hesitation
Poet laureate you are not in my estimation.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip. 1st November 2018.
Nov 1, 2018
Nov 1, 2018 at 4:53 AM UTC
Abandon de soi
A la lumière
d'un clair de lune
Démission
Rupture
à la faveur d'un clair obscur
S e retirer
à pas feutrés
en silence
vers la voie lactée
Départ
pour un ailleurs
aux confins des mondes
Déployer ses ailes
Prendre son envol
vers d'autres rives-âge
Abolition du temps
et de son passage
Dans le sillage
des Etoiles
Ultime voyage
Jan 11, 2017
Jan 11, 2017 at 1:06 PM UTC