"appeasement" poems
Chills run down your spine
Caress with a caress, tender
Breaking a physical valve, meander
Touch to touch, unkeeping of the line
Unplanned, a mystery thick as pine
Feeling, shaking like thunder
Nothing short of splendor
Heart breaking without time
Pulling away from rush
Far from appeasement
No longer engrossed, no longer heated lush
Cold like the words he meant
Stinging like fireside brush
Kisses from fervent
14 April
Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 12:42 AM UTC
I cower in your shadow,
shivering despite any acuity of my own.
(your words are like loaded icicles,
beretta rounds fired through my false logic
and fake religion;
it scares me.)
The truth is I'm not fearless,
I'm pale and lily-livered and only so heathen as the other stars.
(maybe it's good you're in college,
it's closer than you were growing up.
when we were young,
you were short yet rough.
I was the younger,
and, my shepherd, you were faithful;
I only got lost 8 times.)
I don't think I ever really knew you
in any possible perception.
(I know I knew the talk of you,
the hustle and bustle at home and abroad
of your mighty intellect,
your crushing wit,
your driving polities
a war machine and
your gleaming smile
its patron god.)
How could I ever compare, though,
to the goddess of mind and body, brains and war?
(the truth is I am but a defiant priest,
crooked nose and
ashy eyes.
I think the reason,
even today,
for all my insecurities was due to you.)
Appeasement was a method used by the vain and weak
to protect against the humble yet brilliant.
(I feel your ********** take me over,
I feel it acid-wash into my skin,
de-porous my bones
and my imagination structure.
I feel it sink me up to the top,
drowning me in your air,
in your sky and your perfect chemistry.
your burning gold catches me,
smothers me in hands too big
for such a small person.)
How is it you are so tall
when you come up to my chin?
Why is it that I shiver and shake at your light foot falls?
Answer to the shadows
and my cowering will not respond.
Feb 27, 2010
Feb 27, 2010 at 11:07 PM UTC
It’s about the American dream
To make more than you need
Through corporate greed
And pyramid schemes,
So I guess I’m not asleep
Since I eat rice and beans
In a crummy C.F.
Apartment,
Or what’s left of that
Ten by ten compartment
I can barely afford,
Like the ******
Degree that was supposed
To reward my hard effort
By leading me toward
A corner office
Or something
Like that
I should desire,
But **** it,
Let’s get higher,
I’m getting bored,
And my heart is heavy,
And I’ve been
Forsaken
By the country that
Bred me
Yet expects me
To slap on some flak
And attack
Fathers and sons and brothers
In Iraq
Over nothing
But ideological
Fluff
And political stuffing,
It’s nothing
It’s nothing
It’s nothing
It’s just not worth
The time or frustration
To engage in
This nation’s
Procreation
Of condemnation
Of logical reason,
Though reasoning
Lies not in the
Eye of the reasoner
Or that of the reasoned,
It’s gotta be easier
Than achieving
Appeasement
Through please
And leasing
Thank yous
To random
Strangers,
But if
You believe
They, like you,
Are human
Then the danger
Is fleeting,
Cuz they’re feeling
The same feelings,
The sane feelings of
The chronically
Sure,
The always right,
Everything in its
Right place,
Yea I know Tommy,
I must endure
And try to say
I should try to save
The knaves,
But life’s so easy
As a slave,
You buy your
Goods
And pave the way
For impoverished hoods
And hoodwinked
Majorities
Who’ve already
Made
The sacrifices
Necessary
For the necessary
To get paid,
Hope you did some good
With that bogus bonus
Mr. Suit and tie
And perfect life
With the plastic wife
And bank account
You’ll never drain,
No matter how many
Times you make it rain
On upscale hookers,
It runs too deep
To keep all to your
Selfish selves,
But I guess it’s our
Faults we don’t wear
The leadership caps
Cuz we should’ve pulled
Ourselves up by our
******* boot straps
And made something of
Ourselves, right?
Those that deserve
To make the big bucks
Make it happen, right?
Time for the forgotten *****
to put up a fight.
Nov 24, 2011
Nov 24, 2011 at 12:26 PM UTC
Everyday I am born to gods relaying
lineage through winged messengers.
****** radiance enkindles immaculate retinas
in solar flares
and picturesque mornings' idolatry.
Tones entrancing, blue jays
or northwest mockingbirds,
their range of majestic differences
eluding attentive innocence,
elation ebbs to pain's perpetual flow,
streaming hypno-suggestive claims
finding me inexorable
to beliefs I've not died.
Impassioned voices usher me through,
by mid-day I've learned
to speak their tongues,
strange hisses
and twisting trebles
an attempted appeasement for
conforming to continued cyclical living,
instinct selection seeking final detention,
rebirth a trapped evolutionary trait.
Dreading each twilight,
coping through whichever maiden
may allow my musings
to conform to her form
for the night,
overlapping until I
am but a shadow
dominated by her presence,
her brilliance illuminating every scar
of the side perpetually left
to the dark,
enlightenment held
in the warmth of her touch
until she too
falls beneath the horizon.
Sun setting upon this silhouette
and whispering tomorrow
in stagnant sleep speak,
settling to sacrifice's sufficience.
I fear this rest.
Gleaning premise from barbaric genealogy
qualitated as residual spatial pandemic,
leaving this life cycle
reduced to just one more death.
Oct 21, 2012
Oct 21, 2012 at 9:17 PM UTC
the road traveled is
often enough written in the eyes
just as the pattern of a leaf may tell the tree
but it will not lay bare to you
what dwells at its root
what you see in another persons eye
is only a reflection
and only you know what lay at the root of that
her fashionable neatness
suffers at the hand of hurried time
but she will not bend in her method
i cannot see into her thoughts
blinded by my own instincts to follow
to meet my woman's desire
just wanting my lover to be happy
we wrestle the sheets in the hot night
with the other woman joining us again
the three of us exploring eachother in hungry wet embrace
seeking the moments when the hot
rush of pleasure leaves you soaked with passions sweat
and waiting for the begin again of
the sweet play of caress and suckle
it is this third woman
whos dark eye i draw you to
for she is well known to me
we have shared a bed before
she is not a bad person
but i know what dwells
at the root of that
a bedroom of appeasing the cravings
of a woman's hidden angers
Dec 25, 2013
Dec 25, 2013 at 5:45 PM UTC
Countless pages are silently turned in unread books
With quiet secrets passed through the ages
Mysteriously holding inside, wisdom passed down
Deep thoughts of the sages
Sensational scenes of marvelously profound dreams
Lie patiently there waiting upon the fading ink
The rich abundant thoughts of great men of worth
With an innate drive to uniquely think
A gentle breeze of knowledge blows across one’s face
Softly calling out a sweep of welcoming hail
Tempting minds with a voracious need to learn
To come and read their untold tales
Take a moment out in your life’s seeking journey
To rest your eyes upon these unread lines
Read and treasure the wisdom offered in measure
Satisfy the hunger you hold in your mind
If you find your mind is hungry and seeking appeasement
Driven deeply, by a powerful need to learn
Take a taste of the great wisdom left there in earnest
Satisfaction waits, in those pages you turn
Aug 1, 2010
Aug 1, 2010 at 6:13 AM UTC
My mother always said to get along with people.
I made allies, I worked with people, and I stayed away from
Fights that were not mine.
My allies and I have had fights, but we worked it out.
(WWI and the treaty of Versailles)
It all changed though, when nearly everyone around me
Began to hate each other.
One of the kids I knew, but never played with,
Began to bully the others.
He said he hated Jews.
(Germany/ ******
He was a part of a promise my friends and I made,
Because he was a part of our fight, before.
He broke the promise
And he began to... Collect.... My friends
And take over their lives. They were controlled and
Manipulated and suppressed by him.
(Taking over Rhineland, Poland, etc.)
We decided to leave it alone. We didn't want to
Get involved again. (France/ Britain appeasement)
He promised that he would leave a few kids
Alone, but he lied. He controlled them, too. (Italy and Japan)
He had his friends that helped him,
But I think they were just scared of him
And acted like they were his friends.
When my other friends got involved, I wanted out,
But if they needed my help with some things,
I would help them if they gave me a cookie (cash).
After a while, I started to help my friends more,
But I wasn't really fighting... I did, though, when one
Of the bullies friends (Japan) threw a crayon at me.
It hurt really bad and I got angry.
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 9:32 PM UTC
winter lips
press into her memory
bones aching with the fever of remembrance
quiet words raise half lipped appeasement
mostly scarring scars scar her mind but occasionally words stir up like rosebuds of alphabet soup
spelling out novels of repeated notes
picture picture picture
click click click
half lipped winds
greased strands flap loose flap in the loose whipped winds
white comforter white blanket white snow white southern comfort white south
corporate and government city lights counting monies
greased oil slicked back hair scalps scalped dentists appropriating native american hunting tools
scalped girl appropriating brown skin
winter lips kiss kiss kiss
from root to tip toe down the hallway to scar thighs
thigh highs soft like southern comfort white south and the blood is red
but red blood cells are combatants of white blood cells like
winter lips are combatants of
her thoughts
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 8:26 PM UTC
try as you might
your dictated actions will never dictate mine
by the grace of my God
my actions shall be my and my choosing alone
not if it pleases thee
i will not live on my knees
i will serve no master
i will not be dictated to
you forget just my clean conscience needed
not both of ours
for a deep night sleep
your actions clearly misplaced hostility
actions not thought through
when investigated , ooh bad spot light
your honesty wont save this ship
too little too late
someone's head will be needed for the crowd
appeasement if you will
my money is on you
or will black mail save you once more
lets be honest, you know no other way
the game played by secrets
Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 7:01 AM UTC
Inject that myriad dose in my brain
don't tell me what it is
Shrapnel surprise is all i need
Does it hurt, white elephant wars stomping on my mind
As you mouth pours crystal letters that form wet words
That flow into my minds puddle, and finds it's way to our oceans heart
Will this feeling stop, when will it part
My arms are breaking
My legs just broke
Is the clock farther away or is it just moving slower
My feet are walking on plush ground my equilibrium is confused
Did you run or crawl to help me from tripping on air?
Fastidious eyes are tip toeing on my spine
as my arm are keeping my lungs from the ground
don't stop to inhale, forgetting how to breath
Panic attack, shark attack will bite you on the leg and pull you down
Trying to make a way to the glass bathroom
You turn on the water, within seconds a waterfall
That is drenching deafening rapids into my ear
Get this cantankerous feeling away
I'v never wanted to snap so bad in my life
the water stops, the hurricane in my stomach starts
Green light mean blow
After 5 minutes I don't even know what was coming out
I thought my lungs would explode from an over excessive
Amount of my body's fluids
Stumble to stand, mind thinks it's clockwork
The body says it's not
Early morning burns into early night
And there goes the sight
My ears burn of ice around my brain
Give me the Shrapnel surprise one more time
Thin rope around my arm, and needle with appeasement inside
One more dose as I lay back, the red rises up as I sink down
The night, and my home become silent
As i fade away
Aug 8, 2011
Aug 8, 2011 at 12:13 PM UTC
I am intrigued by the questionable science of what is deemed to be equilibrium, where the dance of shadows evolves into an exhausting predictability.
Please: Give me nourishment in the name of planetary appeasement.
Diligence may pay a simple reward, but I am tired.
Thank you for the surging power of electricity. I can feel its superior waves.
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 3:39 PM UTC
So I smile and nod my head when you speak
I pretend to listen to you, and I pretend to care
A smirk upon my face that I don’t even try to conceal
My eyes fixed upon distant nothingness
As I continue to ‘pay attention’ to you
Right before you I stand, stifling yawns
Yet you go on ranting, and you go on raving
Trying your best to demolish my self-esteem
And you fail so miserably
But because you sit upon a pedestal above me
I shall appease you with my fake expressions
While in reality, to me, you are but an insignificant fleck of nothingness
- http://ashez1607.wordpress.com
Aug 25, 2011
Aug 25, 2011 at 8:01 AM UTC
My nails dig
into the skin on my arms
when I let myself think over what you've become to me:
your eyes are the needles I stick everywhere into my veins,
viciously, selfishly, fiendishly,
begging you look me over, once, twice, thousands of times in all the unused, neglected spaces.
I yearn to inject everything, anything you have the grace and generosity to grant unto me--
to shoot up and float away--
so that as your love pulses through my bloodstream and dilates my pupils I can revel in the explosion of sensation and sentiment that has too long lain dormant in the chambers of my heart.
Your voice puts shivers down my spinal column, drawing with the softest touch a line from its base
to the baby hairs at my neck,
It churns the contents of my abdomen slowly,
the intense heat
creeping
in a motion like the currents within the core of the Earth:
liquid heat rising,
cooling, falling, heating,
rising again--
a cycle by which ignites a white-hot fire from the depth of my being by which no other soul has managed to awaken before yours.
I'm so
terribly, helplessly, uncontrollably
addicted to you, my Darling.
You've become quite the drug to my ever-craving palate of desires,
and to go too long a time without that appeasement, the undeniably luxurious romantic gratification by which you so masterfully exude
for me
is to refuse the dregs their drugs
and I cannot fall into withdrawal again.
My nails dig
into the skin 'round my head
tearing out hair
because I've gone mad over you.
Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 5:47 PM UTC
*Deliver me from the folly of jealous men . From the mirth of mischievous demons that long to traduce and besmirch , remove all thought of appeasement toward the rancorous and ill intended serpents that crawl the Earth . Shelter me from the disingenuous , the naysayers of good intent and those that portend lies as benefaction , seeking my friendship through groundless merit and frivolous actions ..
Guide my feet across the perilous river of treachery toward my fellow man , directing my ears to the benefits of silence , gravitate my persona into the light of Dharma ..
Bind my arms from receiving poisonous bounty , render my tongue stillborn to boastful atrocity ..
Sharpen my eyes in the confusion of night , grace the helm of life's vehicle with the Angelic aura of pure white light* ..
Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 8:27 PM UTC
he colored his fingernails
with his mother's nail polish
and grew his hair long
for appeasement
but when he left
he cut it short
like it was meant
to be
one day
he came to lunch
in distress
once he explained
they were confused
but supportive
and so things began
to change
and that is how
it should be
but it isn't always
this simple
because just like
lipstick
and ***** nails
aren't mutually exclusive
masculinity and femininity
aren't mutually exclusive either
and when a boy
in his own community,
the last one he'd expect,
told him he wasn't real
like he was a figment
of their imaginations
he came back with a rage
the others had never seen
and they were proud
and when others
started coming out around them
they were proud
and as the community grew
they were proud
we were proud
i was proud
then i just was
May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 9:53 AM UTC
They died; they all died, without a moan;
their final passage writ in stone.
Dark shadows here and there you see
where Jews passed to eternity.
In these silent streets no children play
No trees survived the heat that day.
A suicide martyr some call a hero
was detonated at ground zero.
Nine hundred thousand are believed lost
in this second, instant, holocaust.
The suitcase he held in his hand
was the latest weapon from Iran.
My team has come here to retrieve
the evidence from Tel Aviv.
No one will be living here
Not for another fifty years.
• * * * * *
A damsel with a dosimeter,
in a vision I once saw,
warned me that appeasement
nearly always leads to war.
Dec 2, 2012
Dec 2, 2012 at 8:43 AM UTC
It is the time of a paranoid season
We'll smile and laugh for your appeasement.
Hands over your ears to block out reason.
How dare you claim I've sworn to treason!
You are nameless word on every mouth.
When you speak, our eyes fly south.
And what the flying **** are you singing about?
Your quality's dimmed and now you simply shout.
I can hear your falsetto cracking.
Your clear, dim eyes boring. Your
Gravel voice, gargling black tar,
Speedballs shining in the whites
Of your nose.
Glancing my direction,
As if you didn't notice...
Clear your ******* throat,
And quit avoiding my face.
We all love your bitter ways.
We all smile at your irrelevancies (gun to head), but
You stress the importance of falsehood,
By laughing with the best of us the rest of us.
I can see right into your skull,
You don't make it difficult.
How dare you speak once
(And only once)
On such blasphemous shame.
Are you having trouble sleeping?
I laugh at the idea of you tossing and turning.
Is that why you're always drinking,
Does it help you to suppress thinking?
You are a person with no shadow, no outline
No nucleus, no carbon make-up.
Just fire.
You are a lost cause,
Burning.
And you've trained us to turn away when you scream.
Jan 19, 2011
Jan 19, 2011 at 1:48 PM UTC
Behold the ringmaster of the reindeer games.
The trials set - all ****** to fail.
Hateful and manipulative thing
Champions shall ever prevail.
Bring this monster closer to god
And near your own martyr’s pit.
Sallow in self-pitied sorrows.
Take to your gold crucifix.
Build ‘em up - your epic disasters.
Spawn the grounds of the grandest battle.
Tyranny’s backlash not in mind
Subjects worshipping you like cattle.
Angels fall such tragic heights
Suffocated by this ruling *******
Now these erinyes come to slaughter
Their manipulative treacherous master.
Concept of praise and deceit
Dire as death and defeat.
Build ‘em up - your epic disasters.
Spawn the grounds of the grandest battle.
Tyranny’s backlash not in mind
Subjects worshipping you like cattle.
Angels fall such tragic heights
Suffocated by this ruling *******
Now these erinyes come to slaughter
Their manipulative treacherous master.
Appeasement of this demigod
Now all that is of consequence
Nothing else brings comfort now
All that exists is this false repentance.
Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 6:04 PM UTC
Tightening the rope as the fools dance and dither
Squandering the moments as hourglass falls,
Walking the tightrope in a world lost to thither
Assassins maraud as the fat General calls.
Flat fingers hover above plastic buttons
Hover in hesitant moments of pause,
Waiting in limbo instructions from Hades
Exultantly plunging to holocaust cause.
Plunging erotically down to the plastic
Smearing the sweat and blood in a pool,
Lusting your moment of utter destruction
Casting all humankind’s best …to be fool.
Doubt not veracity’s balance in tremor
Out there the Devil is dancing his jig,
Everywhere globally men flee in terror
Uncertainty slides with the squeal of the pig.
Russia inflates as tyrannical tyrant
Isis is spreading its carpet of blood,
Worldwide the military gird for battle
Appeasement disbursed in a torrent of flood
Shades of veracity flood Sarajevo
Memories taunt of that drumbeat to war,
Demagogues strut now the march of the scarlet
God flees reality….and is no more.
M.
17 March 2015
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 1:01 AM UTC
Presto,
with haste,
bring forth the measure,
striking sound to create.
Allegro,
with grace,
flow forth like a river,
beauty in God's eternal round.
Moderato,
with taste,
medium to the greats,
note upon note,
slowly mounting.
Andante,
with slackened pace,
venerable vineyard of sound,
sing forth,
no appeasement for the proud.
Adagio,
with measured blow,
The Hammer on anvil,
ring out your chord,
the tonic repeats below.
Presto,
cantabile,
homunculus,
the human voice,
Stradivari sings to us.
Oct 21, 2013
Oct 21, 2013 at 3:50 PM UTC
i'd rather be as cold and manipulative
and a calculator of all sorts
like augustus,
than innocently violent and equally
deluded as such violence deem
equal a nero's "competent" exercise
of it: to encapsulate all masculinity,
rid the demand of scientific inquiry
with blinding d.n.a. and testosterone
structures on the page...
that **** will not float like a ship
on the sea of blood i'll pour into the
breaths walking near Galilee
when your visibility changes from
pen and microscope to sword and telescope
to see eager mars ask permission
of jupiter to transverse via earth too reach venus,
and likewise venus, to transverse toward
mars via earth, hopeful to bring the sun's
illumination with mercury, but the illuminating
message being left on the moon, enters
mars' domain with ignorance, and so
mars likewise retorts to his former act of warring,
and venus in turn with promise of the sun's message
leaves all illumination on earth's moon and
speaks to mars the shadowy truth, rather than:
a. said b. said c. was born (c. being the god
of appeasement, the best we had was crucified,
we need to look elsewhere, because this so called
god of appeasement turned out to be narcissus
in disguise, russian / greek orthodox iconoclasm).
Feb 28, 2016
Feb 28, 2016 at 10:28 AM UTC
Malignancy burrowing
Deep down within me
Grinding the good
To a deep reddish dust,
Flailing about
I try hard to contain it
The pain is intense
But stop it I must.
Malignancy tunneling
Down through my conscience
Baring the thoughts
That I wish least to see,
Revealing the ugliness
Locked in their content
Revealing maliciousness
Portrayed in me.
Desperately trying
To hold the malignancy
Desperately trying
To stop the release,
But out through the keyhole
It flows to the atmosphere
Out to the public
Out to the police.
Malignancy laughs
As a form of appeasement
Malignancy reaches
To hold out it's hand,
Malignancy calms
My hammering heartbeat
The secret's out there
And I'm dead in the sand.
Marshalg
On a rare sick day
@theBach
9 January 2010
Feb 8, 2010
Feb 8, 2010 at 11:50 AM UTC