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you hung
suspended.

i watched you sail
led only by
gusts of wind
and car exhaust

i imagined you were a kite
or a song
imagined pushing you
with my thoughts towards the water

greedily
i watched you
hang

while
amplifying the sunset.
Third Eye Candy Apr 2018
while chewing on the sandwich i was given
i failed to notice the ruffage and the soil of my glamour
only the ludicrous measure of my apathy and passion.
only the girl of my memes and the maladaptive gnomes
of my moveable feast.

i saw through the aerosols and the Hindi.

i ate nothing but net.
i slept with a barstool and a comet.
and asked you " Why? ".

and said, Less.
Saul Makabim Jun 2012
Mercury drips
from cold fingertips
Into cracked teacups
arrayed on a child's play table
"Where is my Alice?"
Chuckling bends the edge of the silence
Chemical cocktails sprayed
Weaponized aerosols
designed to cloud minds
bring dark knights crashing to their knees
Short sickly man
with a blood red head of hair
Stares oh so sweetly
at his darling sweetie
******* the straight edge
concealed in his pocket
Wonderland gang strikes
devices devised for controlling minds
activated
chips in cowls, linked to size eleven hats
Denigration of children's tales
although Lewis Carrol was a ******* they say
either way there is no avoiding
the madness of the hatter.
John Bartholomew Sep 2018
Time is a movement that we cannot escape
It surrounds the Universe in its vastness day by day
And with time its particulars are all attached
DNA to a drop of rain, it all comes as one big batch

Everything changes on a second by second basis
From the dinosaur to the bird in the sky,
Music from minstrels then onto blur and Oasis

Our skin becomes decrepit as we live within our souls
We build, we knock down, we start again to help out those in need
Builders help build, a life now easy, just ask Nick Knowles

But lets think of the future and how we guide Earths ship
We live, we learn, already ruined our surrounding layer of ozone
Ditch the aerosols, drain the diesel's as one Ice-Age was just a little tip

The same as all relationships, hiccups happen as is life
A stumble, a small trip, pick yourself up as this is it
Another chance ain't gonna happen, believe what you will

A sweep up, a quick clean, start again so it is all gone
The Gods of time sometimes get bored, lets stir things up
There is only so much you can watch until,

Things Move On

JJB
“Things change. And friends leave. Life doesn't stop for anybody.”
― Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

“Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself.” ― Leo Tolstoy

“You can't stop the future
You can't rewind the past
The only way to learn the secret
...is to press play.” ― Jay Asher

“Change will not come if we wait for some other person, or if we wait for some other time. We are the ones we've been waiting for. We are the change that we seek.” ― Barack Obama
ooznozz Aug 2017
An empty drinking glass is pressed against a wall; amplifying the voices on the other side. My ear is pressed to the words, ”outside is a secret key” - I can honestly say, “I hear…" Your words, idealizations, sentiments, selected scrawls of graffiti-type promise and viewpoints echo through the wall. Over and over. Championing outsiders…

Are there WALLS WITHIN WALLS? Can we walk through them? ARE THE WALLS ERASABLE? Will the walls tumble down? Will the walls polarize? WHAT ABOUT CRACKS IN THE WALLS? Can they hear? Can we leap over them?

DO WE build them where everything and anything follows and flows?
DO WE build them where something's nothingness tethers vapors with souls?
DO WE build them so molecular melodies of light and dark can collide unopposed?

Are these word walls of dust?  Can we move them? Can you angle between these walls? Will the walls speak a wealth of quiet surprises, poems, and meditations? Do walls give birth to improvisation?

Now some of these walls, in their moment are with no rules, self-constructed, circling dramatically, and might prove more resistant to erosion.  These are often troubling walls, no voice, no strength of decency, no laughter, which place freedom at stake. That and survival. One can be easily manipulated or yanked by an image of the truth swirling in the brick blackness of the wall. Discomforts relish now. Walls such as these are very deep-rooted and passed on for generations. Yet even those barriers eventually give way once we read the super fine print etched into the wall - a word salad of B.S., idiocy and hypocrisy.

Reach for spray-paint and enlarge your wall… maybe it enhances your world now with colored aerosols of wall portraiture's that capture rebellion and mirth. So many Walls, AND SO MANY QUERIES…

I heard a poem say, “Step out from behind one (wall) and FIND YOUR REAL SELF” – or maybe it whispered “jus walk through that door in the wall.”
Your tightly strung trampoline of words has provided a springboard for me to bounce freely over the many walls we build around ourselves.


by "ooznozz"
Jimmy Karnidge Apr 2013
The water trickles over my face
A blank stare is all that greets it
Eyes glazed like donuts in a window
The donuts that you pained for as a child
Face as cold as the bitterwinds of an
Antarctic shadownight
Air is warm and moist
Like the air of an equatorial city bar
Or the warm afterglow of a barrage of
Artillery fire in the west of France
the air is dense
like the heavy breathing of a polar bear
desperately hunting the only seal for miles
or how you figure the air in Hell must feel
heavy from the gravity
Mental overload, it's a good name for it
Like the sound of nothing after a large storm
or the feeling you get when you cram a text book
into your ear then release it hours later
the water trickles over my face
rain is what clears the air of aerosols
any small particles of matter in the air
I am a small particle
floating on aimlessly
Julian Jul 2022
he Evergreen Deal (A Solution to Climate Change)
Parlor Talk: The Evergreen Deal
so how do we REALISTICALLY  tackle the behemoths of careworn luxuries inoculated by degrees of wavy insouciant myopia that is too heavily invested in insuperable aristocratic prerogative rather than far-sighted eleemosynary altruism carved indelibly into the priorities of a growing desperation among world powers to heal our society with pragmatism rather than quixotic charades of intensive mobilization beyond the snatches of rigorous logic that they often neglect poorly conserved energy? We do it by taking steps to limit our consumption of materials that contribute to pollution, incentivize recycling for all appliances and in many cases plan biodegradable packaging rather than the dross of the antiquated strategies of disposal but this is obviously a phased rather than immediate solution. Absolutely central to this bipartisan proposal is that we should facilitate the adoption of more aggressive enlistment of the smart prerogative of adopting electric vehicles and relying more heavily on Hybrid Cars and what better way to do this than be ensuring that the limited range of pure galvanized altruism can be met with an infrastructure that ensures that a vast majority of gas stations punctuated in urban necessity, rural rarity and suburban commonplace greatly sanctions the prerogative of an environmental conscience to swim in the luxury of fully-enabled cross-continent travel with a considerable marginal decrease of fossil fuel footprints. We should not also stoop to the economics of purebred Fossil Fuel cartels that have a vested interest in forestalling advanced leaps in Hydrogen Fuel and the enlarged traction of electric power that discounts the environmental hinderbaggle rather than enthuses the already fickle demand which thrives in undeveloped nations that America, Canada and Europe can find quicker ways to expedite the adoption of revolutionary technologies forestalled by venality.  We should also lean on renewable energy with moderate economic sanctions that deregulate the arena of clean energy with tax incentives and shift the burden away from fossil fuel consumption by using complex econometric contingency analysis and deft marketing strategies that provide advantage to communities that rely on clean energy with free market emphasis. We should also hold fair and equitable talks about the proportional distribution of pollution and provide recourse and almsgiving for countries because of economic laxities rely on fossil fuels too heavily that need international assistance. We should also limit our showers to 5-7 minutes a day to conserve water and avoid baths whenever possible. It should be no surprise to anyone that people like Elon Musk (an Andrew Yang Democrat) are indebted to the powerful barnstorm of the ‘Kanye West’ visionaries that recognize the integral need for a bipartisan stroke of compromise that streamlines a heavily subsidized industrial rampage that proselytizes the advances in electric vehicles to find more universal pragmatic application. The wiredrawn quixotic prerogatives of the benumbed aboriginal Green New Deal which became a walking Nielsen test to field the discernment of the people that jump without conscientious refrains or the rigmarole of a growing environmental congress is telling in its original reception among the United States Senate. “In the 116th United States Congress, it is a pair of resolutions, House Resolution 109[8] and S. Res. 59, sponsored by Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (D-NY) and Sen. Ed Markey (D-MA). On March 25, 2019, Markey's resolution failed to advance in the U.S. Senate in a margin of 0–57, with most Senate Democrats voting "present" in protest of an early vote called by Republicans It is clear that the environmental scourge that is the watershed of such decisive age in an epoch of demassified balkanization deserves a worthy emulation of the bipartisan ideals that harmonize the exigent efforts of reform without plastering the pretense of excessively gouged ******* that is a faltering malice of rudimentary extremism rejected by the vast majority of the discerning.
Greta Thunberg is admirable but the quixotic “Green New Deal” is too drastic for our economy to bear and it will create duress and potentially tank the economy because it is drastically overweight and an encumbrance on relatively free properly micromanaged and macromanaged economies that fuel speculative booms and provide bonanzas for inventive ingenuity in the arena of conservation science. We need geotechnic optimization on a global scale that asks of the people but does not mandate them to use providence and husbandry without asseverating ridiculous ploys to curb necessities like air travel and agricultural waste from cows like Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez suggests. We should create infrastructure projects but ensure that they mobilize proliferative on a moderate scale (that doesn’t ruin the private sector or indebt our nation too much with a debt burden growth) rather than boondoggles of stagnation that provide decent wages but only marginal gains in our strategic leverage to mobilize our resources with celerity tact and central command. We should consider multilateral agreements with the world that address these issues with dedicated science at the forefront of the vanguard propagating renewable energy and, in some cases providing means for nuclear power in areas that are not seismically vulnerable and well-contained. Nevertheless my heavy suspicion is that Donald Trump (in a widely jeered move misunderstood by many but obvious to the delegated diplomats more privy to the tertiary aims and secondary burdens lopsided against United States commitment despite the fact that the majority of the rambunctious ramshackle pollution is propitiated in a benumbed negligence among countries that should find more reasons to be obligated to a fairer agreement that doesn’t shortchange the United States) I firmly believe Trump withdrew because he realized a global problem was being levied with intolerable onerous burdens of an extremely lopsided bureaucratic mismanagement of a problem that needs to be shifted to many countries with a greater fairness in shared moral duty to carve a prosperous environmentally-centered priority.
The future starts here with us right now recognizing that we need to be smart but not hasty in development of deliberatively expedient by gradually phased geotechnically sound architecture and greenhouse farming in urban regions that can create urban forests for both verdure and pulchritude. Nevertheless because of corporate demands there should be zero impetuous mandates placed on any major corporations, but minor subsidies should be provided to encourage global outcomes. We will be greatly enhanced if to the Amazon and Africa (which needs some leveraged aid) to provide the leverage necessary to combat the aleatory vagaries of conflagration by creating fleets of airplanes armed with powerful agents of extinguishing chemicals that don’t endanger the topsoil even though most are proven innocuous.
The best way to secure a clinched future is to prevent unwieldy economic factures that obvolute the problem by departing too drastically from a free market model that emphasizes designing non-ergonomic structural models for architecture and infrastructure and to ensure that the process of recycling is a net decrease in emissions by streamlining the recycling process over the course of the next four to eight years. Heavy polluters and chemical factories need stricter oversight especially in their reckless pollution of the worlds oceans and rivers and the sanitation system needs a decades-long gradate overhaul so that waste matter doesn’t contaminate the biosphere to the ultimate tragedy of degradation and rancid squalor. Ultimately CFCs are a big menace and certain chemicals contribute more heavily to ozone depletion which fuels the iterative cycles of deglaciation. Another necessity is that we mandate all major geographically distributed gas stations provide electric recharging stations so that electric cross-country car travel is more feasible incentivizing electric cars to reduce emissions. We should also create infrastructure projects in California to create high-speed rail by 2030 so that there is less car-bound cabotage on the west coast which is heavily overpopulated and profligate in their ostentation of rugged individualistic twinges that celebrate bulk and garnish the varnish of luxury but falter in their commitment to a beatific world. This will create needed jobs for the growing population of California and benefit everyone by reducing the air travel burden for local flights. We also must be wary of solvents and aerosols which damage the integrity of atmospheric conditions that could aggravate the greenhouse effect disproportionately for even small-time polluters and this problem is easier to tackle than the global imperative for expedited solutions to mobilize the economy in an efficient way without being too quixotic. Remember, however, some countries in Asia like India need more incentives to stop using fossil fuels because 14 out of the top 15 most polluted cities in the world are in India and their population boom could spell a disaster unless we provide diplomatic synergistic agreements to stem the tide or reckless over-pollution in urban mega cities in developing nations. Once we realize that the United States is not the only problematic nation in the climate change frenzy, we will realize that we need a global quorum to advise synergistic solutions without resorting to excessive taxation. Ultimately one of the best ways to address this problem is to provide incentives for India which is already a nuclear nation to start building nuclear power plants in a phased solution that can be abetted by reducing tariffs and macroeconomic incentives for a quick solution rather than a protracted endangerment of the climate. China is already working diligently to solve this problem, but more attention is needed in some megapolises in China to work for climate solutions with the rest of the world. Some suggest a Carbon Tax, but I am somewhat opposed to the idea unless it is managed carefully and not greedily by tumescent governments looking for a quick bonanza. Ultimately the easiest way to fix the climate crisis is to be very careful about chemical disposal and ensure that aerosols are widely contained with proper ventilation systems that are occluded from affecting atmospheric conditions. This can be done in a stepwise and methodical manner that does not put a burden on the chemical industry but rewards them for slightly stricter standards gradually evolving into sustainable solutions. We don’t need to mandate every gas station to have electric charging but at intermittent geographical intervals there is a necessity to have electric charging stations because they become redundant in urban areas while incentivizing electric and hybrid cars. The United States is not the main contributor to climate change and we can’t eliminate all emissions especially when they are vital to economic security, but these other measures will ensure a better future. Obviously the fossil fuel juggernaut is opposed to many of these reforms but because we exist in a world of sad conveniences that exasperate the mercurial conditions of a world endangered by the potential 22nd century mass migration of those from Bangladesh and the American South we must view some statistics with skepticism while becoming fully invested to prevent a Wall-E world because pollution is not merely a predicate of environmental debauchery but a needed imperative of biodegradable solutions and streamlined recycling that doesn’t incur such heavy energy costs in the rigmaroles of its process. Obviously partisan Republicans worry about Coal Power but such a marginal plucky insistence upon West Virginia in the need to pander shouldn’t outweigh a more global mission to educate the global populations that need to become more conscientious with an expansive conscience that many developing world mistakes require subsidized (potentially to safer degrees that aren’t an excessive drainage) solutions so that bipartisan sheen of a syncretic reform achieves a mobilized objective to restrain the scourge of pollution and inculcate (to the extent that exasperated sophistries designed to instill imperative lies of looming immediacy) the world to become more respectful of their Carbon Footprints. The easiest solutions to heal lie in chemical waste because over time these elements do not degrade and they infiltrate the Ozone Layer and are easier to phase out. The Evergreen Deal tackles many exigent problems and is not riddled by insufficient extremism but moderate bipartisan appeal. In addition we should mobilize fire brigades in every Western European country yet inured to sweltering heat that they might be better outfitted. We should abandon plastic bags and make the world geotechnic in biodegradable solutions
RoDin Jul 2013
I do not know
what this cloud
is made of.

Mind-made aerosols?  Speech-bubble nonsense? Filthy-dust particles?

Who gives a ****?

This cloud is
a flying kite.
The shape
the size
I cut
to fit
my
s
i
g
h.
annh Nov 2019
White nights, grey days,
Phosphorus and gin;
Graffiti-laden pavements,
Diamond rain and paraffin.

Chalk dust reveries,
Aerosols and spit;
Zero-hour freeways,
Magnetic parapets.

City high, city low,
Monoliths in drag;
Silent spaces, dwelling places,
A hoody and a bag.

Freestyle evangelists,
Salvation strikes a pose;
Train tracks, kitchen hacks,
The rapture and the snow.

'I'm laying down, eating snow/My fur is hot, my tongue is cold/On a bed of spider web/I think of how to change myself.'
- Fever Ray, Keep the Streets Empty for Me
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=jWFb5z3kUSQ
GaryFairy Aug 2015
The sun will burn a hole right through
your parasols
The clouds so sick they've split in two
from aerosols

The air will fill your lungs with fists
for ev'ry breath
'til future days when life exists
to mirror death

So you're wondering why
They put heaven on high
Why the gods don't visit us anymore
And you lift your eye
To the deep blue sky:
The only way out is up

And so you hire a bird to sing your songs
And you buy her a tree to start things off
And you wire the words through lines of leaves
And you hope that she shows when comes the sun
She may never sing
She may never show
But you don't know

The lake, the sea: the tireless gloves
where nature's hand
Still holds her sceptre far above
her *******, man

The shore where centuries of sand
through waves have raced
Invites a swim, but think where man
deposits waste

So you're wondering why
They put heaven on high
Why the angels tolerate pillowy floors
As you lift your eye
To the birth of blue sky:
The only way out is up

And so you hire a bird to sing your songs
And you buy her a tree to start things off
And you wire the words through lines of leaves
And you hope that she shows when comes the sun
She may never sing
She may never show
But you don't know
this is a song by Think Tree
TS Garrett Feb 2017
Such a simple synonym of a great yellow house

swaddled in the shadows on a flat patch in the backyard

a refuge resting of bric-a-brac and ornamental knickknacks

with a paint chipped porch that beamed once a brilliant white

a birdhouse filled with straw the previous owners left behind

a plywood room banished with no insulation and one lonely window

something of substance, with grainy walls to hold me up

a quiet place to talk to myself when the sun goes to sleep

where the imagination springs open deliciously

behind that old closed door that creaks

a cube where prayers share the stale air with the stillness of time

improvised shelving of old milk crates battered as gypsies

like migrating baggage nomadic through the years

that rainbow hammock hanging loose from the rafters

a husk to lift a weary back, a sheath to house the soul

a shaky legged easel from my love, nested into its very own corner

reflecting outward like a mirror so I might better see myself

the plastic man of gold  modestly retired above the window seal

the only trophy I ever felt I ever earned

an electric heater rattling its nonsense in the cold night air

amusing any shivering listener who cares to be warmed

A string of soft incandescent lights that dangle overhead

perfectly framing the faded native masks like vibrant yellow teeth

wilted candles scattered amongst the odds and ends

there wax bellies spattered on the floor to keep the paint drippings company

a mess of tousled brushes protruding from the dented silver can

wearing disheveled hairpieces to match their eccentric ways

the squatting antique box with its stitching and fat brass latches

enshrined as a tiny monument to the mantis and the moth

secrets scribbled on the dead parchment crammed into their tombs

journals that became maps on my journey to myself

icons harbored naive and coarse

to be plotted and stationed, rearranged and cherished

a cocoon that bursts from inside out

viscera stashed in a capsule to be kissed and romanced

the stacked canvases like a house of cards

leaning in tired on the supports of their brothers and sisters

the faces of reincarnation hanging on pushpins

those abstractions surreal in all their horrid geometry

the pirate ship, the aerosols

the old machine that holds the rotten gumballs

bolts and screws and arrowheads

a native tongue that enriches the enigma

not merely a physical escape of hoarded trinkets

fitted ad hoc with all the contrivances to tinker away the while

more abstractly a spiritual gathering of subdued memories

a space becoming itself a philosophy unraveling the details
CJ M Oct 2015
You fill me with a sense of completeness like a drug, filling my nostrils like aerosols.
You're in me deeper than trichinosis, and like a soldier, I'm at your beck and call.
You're on my mind like my helmet is, and in my heart like shrapnel. You're on my body like wet clothes, and held tight as if a grapple.
You're a sweet candy like you're sugar-born, and a kiss that leaves me speachless.
You're so tender as if breaded and battered, and I'm a sucker for you like leeches.
You are my drug, my personal addiction, and I love you like bad habits.
Your form is a taunt, your personality a want, baby girl, you're nowhere near average.
Jens Malmgren Apr 2019
When you say this, you speak as if you reduced your own mental capacity to an ape sitting naked on the grass looking up on the sky marveling at the coming and going of the seasons.

Granted that you are somewhat stupid, but you aren't an ape. You heard this phrase from someone, and you have no idea how dangerous that person is. You parroted this phrase over and over again, and I could not give you a sufficient answer at the time.

You argue that climate science cannot predict the future, but at the same time you eat all fruits of the industrial revolution and science.

I have bad news for you.

Climate science cannot only predict the future. It can predict the future with brutally exact precision.

The climate is driven by four factors:

1. Insulation. This is the sun, the earth orbit around the sun, the configuration of the continents, etc.
2. Greenhouse gasses. Water vapor, Carbon Dioxide, and Methane.
3. Particles and aerosols. Pollutions etc.
4. Amplifications. The runaway climate change.

This is it. It is proven. You do not need to sit naked on that grass tortured by the sun. You do not need to look upon the sky marveling of the coming and going of the seasons and feel the smell of the approaching wildfire.

You can stop insinuate that you are an ape because you are no ape. You are a living person, and you have an unnecessary huge carbon footprint. For that, you should be ashamed.

Inform yourself. Learn about the changes ahead. Make use of your intelligence that you actually have. Go to YouTube and view all the videos of Potholer54, especially video five in the playlist "climate change explained, and the myths debunked".

You can be a right winger or leftist. It does not matter. You can be poor or rich. You can be afraid of Islam or terrorists. Brexit can fill you with fear. All that is meaningless. All refugees from Syria and all suffering of humanity up until now is meaningless small compared to the future predicted by science.

Embrace science.

When that is done, then we can talk about the climate again.
Jonathan Moya Nov 2019
The bulldozers and jackhammers
blasted the concrete away
clearing it of water, aggregate, cement,
tearing it down to the soil
until it buzzed with reclamation,
smelled of loam and petrichor,
the release of geosmin in the stirring,
ozone expelling with first lightning and rain,
surface bubbles releasing aerosols
like fresh baked bread from the oven
through open kitchen windows.


Over the watchful hum of drones
circling overheard the first crop
of the community garden
was tilled and planted in nine wide rows-
beans, cucumbers, zucchini, pumpkin,
squash, melons, clover, mint and basil-
drawing only the attention of hornets,
the disinterest of the rain god
that let their tender love dissolve
back to the earth in a pool of rot,
that never allowed a harvesting or tasting.

The second crops were planted in five narrow rows:
tomatoes, peanuts, green peppers, sweet peas
and eggplants, offensive to wasps and immune
to the silly whims of an offended deity
that could not flood over their high walls,
their collective pride, red as clotted blood.
They reaped its first beautiful harvest,
thought it tasted of airy summer dreams,
sold it with joy in their farmer’s market
until the first secret taste spit it out
for it was nothing but sawdust and glue.
niann smith May 2021
another morning
another chemical coating
another narcissistic lathering
soaping my hair, face, body
antiperspirant, lotion
sunscreen, hair gel, eye drops
toothpaste, mouthwash

there’s nothing real about me
I am fake, head to toe
plastics, aerosols, fragrances
trying to preserve the real real
or mask it or hide it or fix it
as the mirror snickers at me
in 2d flat-screen mockery

I’m a stranger, a hitchhiker in
a borrowed body, a rogue

uncovered, this facade
bared down to its natural
stench and style

is something unpublishable,
something never in vogue
niann smith May 2021
another morning
another chemical coating
another narcissistic lathering
soaping my hair, face, body
antiperspirant, lotion
sunscreen, hair gel, eye drops
toothpaste, mouthwash

there’s nothing real about me
I am fake, head to toe
plastics, aerosols, fragrances
trying to preserve the real real
or mask it or hide it or fix it
as the mirror snickers at me
in 2d flat-screen mockery

I’m a stranger, a hitchhiker in
a borrowed body, a rogue

uncovered, this facade
bared down to its natural
stench and style

is something unpublishable,
something never in vogue
Jun Lit Oct 2021
Hope was delivered quickly, mercifully,
as the aseptic needle silently, expertly
pierced the anxious skin of my upper arm
bared to its untattooed, obese reality
and scarred deeply with forgotten badges
from islands and mountains and forests
and caves, with souvenirs and tokens
from clingy rattans, unforgiving wasps,
solicitous leeches, and hyperactive biting midges.

Pushed by magmatic desperation, something
imposed by elected incompetence, fudged
as a destiny of an unfortunate nation,
I toed the line of the long queue, hiding
my rhinitis-ruled nostrils and mustached
mouth from the many dreaded arms
of SARS-CoV-2, uneasily shielding
my embarrassed face from sneezed aerosols.

Aging paranoias of undignifiedly drowning
in one’s own phlegm unconsciously fuel
the tired and greying servant. Respite is not
as appeals for help to ease the burdens
of mountains of debt, and so sadly, yet
the beloved, alone, succumbs to death.

We’re all hostages - and the ransoms demanded
by this protein-coated tyrant are costly,
unjustly. Incarcerated by our fears of being
caught within the nets of this pirate at the sea
of our existence, we are, I am, grasping at all
but the last strands of a rotting rope – hope,
diminishing, flickering hope of salvation
from pathogenic damnation. Come messiah!

Likened to Christmas Stars shining bright,
the sages of Science illuminated our dark night
And through the ***** of a hypodermic needle,
Hope was delivered quickly,
mercifully,
compassionately . . .
This was written immediately after the author got his second dose of AstraZeneca. It was read by the author himself as a contribution to the Virtual Cultural Concert (VCC) held on 09 October 2021. The virtual cultural event was organized by the UPLB Office of Alumni Affairs, and the Classes of 1971 and 1981 in celebration of the 103rd UPLB Loyalty Day (10 October 2021) with the theme “Bigkisang UPLB at Alumni para sa Matagumpay na Pagbangon Mula sa Pandemya.” [Strong Bonds between UPLB and Alumni Toward Victory in Recovering from the Pandemic]. The poem is dedicated to all UPLB Alumni, especially those in the Sciences, Medicine, and allied fields in the frontlines.  In Part, the poem is also a thanksgiving to Science & Scientists.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0aQv-ZpRqyY
Spyromundu Dec 2018
The sun is caressing her skin, vapor rising into
the blues, the sky is drowning in cool coteries
of crystal particles, a flock of aerosols, unison
hanging in the air, electrifying the aerosphere

It is raining, we are dropping as bright strings,
we are the rain, tiny drops of light, it's vertically
moving, in a whole structure, and shadows are
bursting out of us, as we are landing on Mama

Soil hiding under shiny rugs, turning land into
aqueous gardens, fighting for life, while dim
is stopping this melodic fest, as droplets are
reflecting their gold on tins, and forging hubris

Stream is finding the gate, entering as a whole
into the lamp, filling every corner with beams,
spreading bloom around the luminous flower,
it is beginning to breathe, here and now, Om
Against the window Webster heard drenched hormones gnawing and gnashing like he was in Israel again killing bad people in nursing homes. "I don't like the sound of that," young Marla moaned lasciviously as her hefty ******* ****** to and fro. "Look at me!" Clyde demanded. "Your ******* are wild and must be tamed or else we're all going to die!" No one knew what he meant by that. "Clyde, that is the weirdest thing in the world, what you said," youthful Brad Dillman muttered. "I agree," Big Nig Hopkins chimed in. "Alright, everybody CHILL! I'm going to release anti-hormone aerosols now to **** what's outside!" Doctor Hector O'Malley exclaimed while his big nuts oscillated to and fro in time with Marla's hefty *******. Finally, the drenched hormone monster was gone and everyone whipped out their ******* and ******. "I think we're going to make it!" Duke the pie stocker proclaimed authoritatively as the river rose to a critical flood stage that presented a new threat to these brave explorers.
Ryan O'Leary Jul 2020
It all seems very amateur
despite years of practice
and hundreds of online
international viewings.

An effective means in
neutralising resistance
from the police would
be to paint bomb visors.

Aerosols to the rescue,
hand held proximate
spray release and that's
them out of business.
Against the window Webster heard drenched hormones gnawing and gnashing like he was in Israel again killing bad people in nursing homes. "I don't like the sound of that," young Marla moaned lasciviously as her hefty ******* ****** to and fro. "Look at me!" Clyde demanded. "Your ******* are wild and must be tamed or else we're all going to die!" No one knew what he meant by that. "Clyde, that is the weirdest thing in the world, what you said," youthful Brad Dillman muttered. "I agree," Big Nig Hopkins chimed in. "Alright, everybody CHILL! I'm going to release anti-hormone aerosols now to **** what's outside!" Doctor Hector O'Malley exclaimed while his big nuts oscillated to and fro in time with Marla's hefty *******. Finally, the drenched hormone monster was gone and everyone whipped out their ******* and ******. "I think we're going to make it!" Duke the pie stocker proclaimed authoritatively as the river rose to a critical flood stage that presented a new threat to these brave explorers.
"Look at me!" Clyde demanded. "Your ******* are wild and must be tamed or else we're all going to die!" No one knew what he meant by that. "Clyde, that is the weirdest thing in the world, what you said," youthful Brad Dillman muttered. "I agree," Big Nig Hopkins chimed in. "Alright, everybody CHILL! I'm going to release anti-hormone aerosols now to **** what's outside!"
Against the window Webster heard drenched hormones gnawing and gnashing like he was in Israel again killing bad people in nursing homes. "I don't like the sound of that," young Marla moaned lasciviously as her hefty ******* ****** to and fro. "Look at me!" Clyde demanded. "Your ******* are wild and must be tamed or else we're all going to die!" No one knew what he meant by that. "Clyde, that is the weirdest thing in the world, what you said," youthful Brad Dillman muttered. "I agree," Big Nig Hopkins chimed in. "Alright, everybody CHILL! I'm going to release anti-hormone aerosols now to **** what's outside!" Doctor Hector O'Malley exclaimed while his big nuts oscillated to and fro in time with Marla's hefty *******. Finally, the drenched hormone monster was gone and everyone whipped out their ******* and ******. "I think we're going to make it!" Duke the pie stocker proclaimed authoritatively as the river rose to a critical flood stage that presented a new threat to these brave explorers.

— The End —