"ation" poems
Mythical Bird, show me your secret
Hatch forth from your shell
Plumage of orange and scarlet
Emerge glorious from whence you dwell
Fiery Bird, you must reveal
Your astounding, magical ways
Where from these lives you steal
Forever reincarnating well into your days
Aflamed Bird, you must teach
How you reinvent yourself anew
With no help within reach
Without aid, effortlessly you flew
Majestic Bird, take me in
Blanket me with your wing
Listen and acknowledge my sins
With all your wisdom and heart could bring
Magical Bird, will you impart?
What knowledge you keep
Only then, I may start
To make my way out from the deep
Enchanted Bird, you have to help
I'm desperate to rise like you
**** your head and hear my yelps
Of all the things I'm trying to undo
Celestial Bird, if only you could know
Intricate workings of this unfounded fixation
Why I seem to always wallow
An eternal target of sorrow's attention
Imaginary Bird, will you demonstrate
Your amazing fantastical flight
Dipping, gliding, in the air you gyrate
Aggressive dance with gravity you fight
Mystical Bird, won't you display
For unworthy eyes, would you give?
Seemingly easy, aloft you stay
Even when you know you'd die before you'd live
Wondrous Bird, oh how perfect you are
I am in awe, I am swooning
How you become one with the stars
Making the best of the short time you're living
Secretive Bird, is it time?
Reducing yourself down to ashes
Ready to absolve your stint of crimes
Reborn perfect, free from previous gashes
Ensorcelled Bird, please don't retreat
Back into your familiar cocoon
I'm uncertain if again we'd meet
Just afraid I might be gone too soon
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 8:50 AM UTC
Two men, one poem.
This day, on this site.
Two men wrote to me.
One called me brother.
The other, an arrogant *****
Called me little.
One shared his life,
With humility and gratitude,
Then, I lost it.
Wept. Baby like.
Honored me with trust.
Swapped spit stories
That bled into my brain,
And a tattoo appeared on my
Writing arm, one word,
Humility.
One boasted of his beans.
His bean counting reads.
Analyzed his trends,
Predicting by Christmas (!),
He would have this many.
His **** poems he informed,
Would be published.
What need did he have
For punk-u-ation,
His rants, his **** stream of words.
Better than mine,
Just cause his stuff I said,
Not my cup of tea.
What a crazy place this place.
Holy and ******** sided.
Humble humble, always humble.
He invoked, this arrogant one,
God's name.
Not knowing I talk to Him.
So I rang Him up and said,
How did a little peenus-genius
Find his way onto this
Holy Place, HP, of kindness.
He smiled in brevity.
Did I not create both,
Angels and devils?
I love God's brevity.
His commas, his question marks,
His pointed punctuation.
I love that He could create
A man whose sight of
Me, unseen, but found capacity
To love me in ways
Undreamed.
Because I peered in to the man's reveal,
Saw quality, value,
Saw humility.
So of arrogance, I said,
I would write.
But it is of humility
I will sing,
Of loving human kindness extraordinaire.
Of weeping endless.
At the joy afforded me
To read so many lovely poems,
Here.
If my poems never see the
Imprimatur of a publishing house,
It matters not,
For I have seen a human being
Weep real tears reading mine.
I have shed rivers of my own
Upon discovering yours.
Humble, humble.
If it is glory you seek,
You will find it,
All alone. ************
Me, I live here, in the midst of a
Good Company.
Sept. 7th, 2013
Sep 7, 2013
Sep 7, 2013 at 4:49 AM UTC
to ones wronged or irked by some stupid bullsh#t
and who may have an itch to do some ruin—
—ation, e.g., shoot some bullets
all the imprudent bullies
and corrupt ****** contributing to in—
—justice will do as ones to subject to a punishment
[mafias & agents of authoritarian regimes]
and if you are one of 'em
a few words regarding your funeral
[if there will be one]
hope it will be at odds with the usual
it should be a carnival to the bone
whether or not that is suitable
Mar 29, 2020
Mar 29, 2020 at 9:56 AM UTC
She wants a spark that isn’t there,
that never was, but always burned.
Routine remains in comfort where
love should reside. Two hearts once frost
are made warm when one, and only
joined together when separate.
This truth is implanted to a
girl who is as broken as the lives
she’s left behind. Intentions are
fueled by the hope of a road cleared
ahead of the fallible thick-
et their feet fall on now. Toes are
scarred from entangled roots scattered
the width of the path. To stray is
to stay on course, she says to him.
The fill of a thrill from a chase
already deemed triumphant ball-
oons his wings. He soars in the sky
to rival the eagle. Though ev-
en she cannot ignore the threat
of temptation. Indirect in-
iquities thrive in the life of
the one who began this feat by
fault of suppressed ignorance now
made alive. Infidelity
envelopes their lackluster rel-
ation. They wonder if there ev-
er was anything there at all. A
friendly companionship confused
as love? What is love but a con-
nection between friends. His protests
fall on deaf ears. She has felt the
flames, and they are warm. Their paths are
clear, but not as predicted. In-
to the sunset they walk, between
them another heart, more cold than
the one they shared.
Oct 26, 2012
Oct 26, 2012 at 5:10 PM UTC
I'm not taking a side
I think you're all daft
With words that deride
Afore and aft
It doesn't have to be snide
Trolling can be quite a laugh
But it lacks imagination
And creates an irritation
When you're ******* at it and use it as an excuse to just be nasty to each other and then you don't step away, and just keep arguing and arguing and arguing like you're in nursery, and nobody gets a solution because the whole thing is pointless and irrelevant and based on opinions that don't matter of people you will probably never meet and it's just so ridiculous I can't even end this sentence because of how ridiculous it all is and its made me forget about punctuation and sentence structure and everything because I'm annoyed at having to read such pointless ******* and I'm tired because here in England it's after midnight and I'm laid here reading ******* rather than sleeping when I just want to read some poetry aaaaaarrrrrgggghhhh and all I know is to make this line rhyme I need to end it in ation!!!
A rhyme about other trolls
Troll troll
You've got a big head
And you're made of stone
And you aren't red
Troll troll
You're in a film called the hobbit
And you're made of stone
And you're not a rabbit
Troll troll
You could be a rabbit
One made of stone
You could be red
Made of red stone
But you lack imagination
Like an Internet troll
Because you're head is made of rocks
And you were made by some sort of evil wizard or something
So at least you've got an excuse
Unlike people
Who lack imagination when trying to be a troll
Because they lack even the imagination of a troll
Who is actually a troll
But came in 6 movies rather than sitting behind a computer screen blaming other people for their loneliness
I'm off to fester in my own self pity, silently waiting to have my troll poem trolled by trolls who aren't really trolls. I'll be back tomorrow for more fun and games.
That's all folks!!
Apr 14, 2016
Apr 14, 2016 at 7:46 PM UTC
I believe destiny
is about the
final destin-ation.
Fate is about the choices you make
along the road
to arrive there...
Oct 25, 2022
Oct 25, 2022 at 6:37 AM UTC
[civiliz]ation made of a large
[popul]ation of people with tendencies of
[segreg]ation with no purpose and
[condemn]ation that just hurts us
[transl]ation: [damn]ation
(suffoc)ation prevents (revel)ation
Dec 4, 2010
Dec 4, 2010 at 10:52 AM UTC
+
The cross
Upon whi
Ch my life
Got saved
Nailed and crucified for my salv
Ation,I still wonder why becaus
E I don't think I deserve that m
Uch sacrif
Ice but I r
Ealise it w
As grace
That made
Me worthy
Of such gr
Eat love an
D favour.I;
shall forev
er rejoice.
Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 11:56 PM UTC
off his tongue
tasting like
Kadian and
Starlight mints
a hint of coffee
to speed things along
Less to do with sweet
tho I'd lick it from my fingers
Possibly the
mutilation
My intelligence and
self-preservation
severed slow
and easy
My thicker skin
slipped off my shoulders
onto the floor
fading into the denim around
my ankles
HaBItS
the bass inside
pumps
liquid compulsion
A branched tongue
on a
forked path
murmurs miracles
brain spins and
eyes shut
Lips move
A rumor
hushed
ex plor ation
of
sighed effects
Ballerina tongue
pirouettes
and dips
skipping
skin trembling
slick and slippery
hard-soaked in
Finish Me
and
beads of cinnamon dew
tipping empty cups
sipping
Love Drugs
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 8:58 AM UTC
There is a kinetic c e l e b r a t i o n
throughout the entire universe--
both known and unknown;
each molecule a universe to itself-
a world interconnected;
of sub-atomic celebrators
filling all time and space
perpetually valuing value itself
Value--
who, at its prime core
is in itself
the self-celebration
of hope/value= Love- (tagline) #healing
and it is everywhere.
Yet, we.. are unaware.
Loving words
(all that is real)
align with the celebration-
of the kinetic-heal
and they pick up the magic
(the receivable rendition)
allowed into the receiver
through the act of volition
and suddenly we become aware.
••••
I am melting into you--
and in the blend of us
I am finding the
c l a r i fi c ation of me-- a
process until today
I never believed in.
Once rolling alone
I am finding
the word h o m e
in everything
that you do
e v er y- t h i n g.
-by paulSN
Oct 5, 2016
Oct 5, 2016 at 3:42 AM UTC
this aria spans
of unheadedde
cline
4the cit
y of depart
ures
a
,ndexit-door blood:--------:lines
5the longwal
kof walls of the hydra's throat
ter.....m.i.n.a.l s-t-~'ation
to6day in ha
lf light
walls of the hydra's throat (one born every minute(
7k
nighted
kcell walls of the hydra's throat1neborneveyminute
.and
8f.ur nace
dr.op
vei,'ns
9resist~''ant plagues
)0zeros(inside )fever(
virulent
s
trains
____come__________t ce_______lls wall
co______tto_______n we___________lls c______all
Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 12:54 AM UTC
craSH land ing in your
hand or
somet..h...i.n..g...
somepalm or plane
your fingers figured
EVERYTHING was
in theirange
"
i NEED the cement
to stack the bric
ks more even [][]
"
-she said
like self-construction
is in her-interests:
like she SPOftenKE
of scaf fold & ropes
& renov(icaine)ation????
instead of
numbness, running, & vacations
OHHHHHHHH THE GREAT PATRON SAINT
of r u n a w a y s
is suddenly b-come-ing brave!!
Feb 7, 2010
Feb 7, 2010 at 7:54 PM UTC
and only reading, only
input dulls nerves to
the truth in word.
without output, wi-
thout application of
garnered (no, acrrued)
intelligence then wh-
ere can be the soul
to wisdom. and exper-
ience is part found-
ation, and without sec-
ondary support man
shall stand alone his
selful house. and
cries in question of
fairness, the redundant,
as an aspect of Life.
as a driving force,
one that seizes with
each lurch. and those
cries echo from a plane
A to B life when we
are not vertical in Na-
ture, but instead we
slide from top knot
down some rope strung
by supreme benefactor.
to be caught in a noose
on the way down, or
to slip sublime and free
from the burns left
on the palms of existence.
Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 8:45 PM UTC
Take any apartment block and stare into its empty eyes;
behind the curtains,
past the stud wall kitchen and into
the bedroom,
they’ll be a couple copulating in
the afternoon sun,
below on the sidewalk
strip, no-one knows of the
grip they’re in-
a vice tight hold of
infatuation:
in-fat-u-ation,
beyond this,
after the ***
the lovers will sit and read,
bleed out to Benzedrine;
puncture parecetemol to avoid headaches;
mess with the myriad marijuana;
raise the stakes and place everything they have
on a red seventeen and hope
they’ll come out sane in the morning haze.
Take any apartment block and stare into its empty eyes.
Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 11:30 AM UTC
This week at work I received a Homeland Security form with a terse note that I had filled it out incorrectly - in 2003. But I had not filled it out at all; this was new form (already out of date by its own testimony) predicated on a Department of Justice form which I did complete correctly; it had simply expired.
Altho’ I obediently completed the form, I rendered part of the form (page 7 of 9) into not-really-a-poem, in lines of ten syllables:
I Attest That I Am
employment eligibility
verification department of home
land security u.s. citizen
ship and immigration services u
scis form i-9 omb
no. 1615-0047
expires 03/31/2016
start here. Read instructions carefully be
fore completing this form. The instructions
must be available during completion
of this form anti-discrimination
notice: it is illegal to discrim
inate against work-authorized indi
viduals. Employers cannot specify
which document(s) they will accept from an
employee. The refusal to hire an
individual because the docu
ment presented has a future expi
ration date may also constitute il
legal discrimination. Section 1.
Employee information and attest
ation (employees must complete and sign
section 1 of form i-9 no later than
the first day of employment, but not be
fore accepting a job offer). Last
name (family name) First name (given name) mid
dle initial other names used (if any)
address (street number and name) apt.
number city or town state zip code date
of birth (mm/dd/yyyy)
u.s. social security number
e-mail address telephone number I
am aware that federal law provides
for imprisonment and / or fines for false
statements or use of false documents in
connection with the completion of the
form. I attest, under penalty of
perjury, that I am (check one of the
following)…
I Attest That I Am
Nov 17, 2016
Nov 17, 2016 at 8:57 PM UTC
My name, Hombres, is Pancho,
I work on an outta z ways rancho;
I make just 5 pesos for the day.
It is a hard job to do for the pay.
I go out after. Go see Free Lucy.
Then, I asked her for the Pousse;
She just slapped me in the face;
And a took my 5 pesos anyways.
: ( What did I say? :(
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 2:55 PM UTC
What are these pangs
That wake me from my slumber?
Hunger?!? You devilish *******
My own worst enemy, what ***** is this?
Come to fight me on my own turf,
How dare you? Not even bothering to show your own face.
How fare you? So poor that you must come bother me,
A plump little house cat such as I, truly
You disgust me. Hiss.
.......
From the land of the warming rays you would pluck me
My own sacred home, you disrupt me!
But of course Hunger never goes away on its own,
It’ll ***** at you and **** and wear you down to the bone
Until you feed it some delicate morsel,
Like tuna, perhaps. I was always partial
Towards tuna.
.......
Hunger’s a real witty foe, too,
Never facing you head on, no
It’s much too smart for that.
The fool makes you walk to the kitchen.
That’s about thirty ****** steps for me,
God I despise it; but then of course I have to prep for it!
Mewing pitifully and rolling around on my back,
Enticing that lazy-arse human to tally from his track
And come feed me. Jesus, pity me,
I know I do.
........
“Oh, look at the cute little kitty fuzz awww”
Oh **** off and feed me you ****
“Aw but you’re such a fat little cat! You don’t need the food!”
I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch it, what was that?
I’m dying of hunger over here, mate.
You’re not going to feed me? Just walk away?
Very well, you’ve made your play.
I’m gonna go **** in your shoes,
How’s that for a how-do-you-do?
........
Hunger, my mortal enemy, my only friend,
You’ve won this fight, but it’s not the end.
You might grumble my stomach in sweet revelry,
Taking joy in my delicious misery-
But hark, what’s this before me??
Oh hunky dory, ~purr~
... There’s no way he’s this stupid, for sure...
Oh, but there is, though it cannot be!
My master’s, (unawares), left out a morsel for me.
You hear that, Hunger, it’s fantastic, I’ve won!
(Even though you’re victory had only just begun),
Dear fat master had left out his food, you see
And now I shall feast and set my hunger free.
For in front of me, O Sweet Salvation!
... A sandwich, for my consumer-ation.
Jul 23, 2012
Jul 23, 2012 at 11:50 AM UTC
i want to scream you through my mouth.
i don't have to exist any longer, as sun
shine or stretched clothing that doesn't
fit any longer, the shirts in your drawer,
the scarves fumbled with and discarded
underneath the stairs of a community c
ollege. if you want this, would you tell m
e. i don't have to step outside this door,
not once or twice without you. because,
of course, there are better things. i don
't think i make any more sense than pre
tty birds that cheep unicorn songs, and
grow shelters for their green-houses. i
could write you a song, if you'd like.
when the sun shines for the second tim
e, i'll let you know. right now the clouds
are labelled grey, and drawing islands i
n the discovering sand does not remedy
seasonal blues unaffected by the medic
ation of your smile and racing for play-g
round swings that cut up my thighs any
way. if i could put you on repeat, i woul
d, but life ain't youtube, and people ain
't paintings you can put in a frame and
hang on the wall, they ain't songs you
can listen to until you go cross-eyed wi
th giddiness. i'm not new anymore, i'm
words i've already written, places i've
already been, i am people unfamiliar b
ecause i've talked to them for so long.
Dec 7, 2010
Dec 7, 2010 at 11:39 AM UTC
Familial negligence in elementary years,
Driving through road-blocks,
Uncertainty.
Dropping the pizza,
Often irrational,
bad,
Camel spiders and snakes,
Loss of control,
Peeing your pants,
Bone-chilling
Beer eliminates fear.
Corrupt leaders and politics,
the unknown, the dangerous;
a basic emotion,
a defense mechanism,
a mentality,
protective,
a hindrance,
a motivator,
extremely complex, yet so basic.
Modern humanist social anxieties.
so strong that it stops actions, freezes situational progress.
does not allow the entity to make moves in harm's way.
provocative for offensive moves,
the extra push of adrenaline enabling someone to lift a car to save another.
Complex sentient beings empathize the fear in others, and project it onto others.
The fear of compromised freedom can be the catalyst to an organized protest of a handful or thousands of people against a potential or occurring government action.
A threat.
Paralyze--ation.
A jolt of the heart.
Fear is like love, linked to love, with its severe stress and anxiety
What if you turned fear into love?
May 20, 2012
May 20, 2012 at 10:10 PM UTC
song and dance,
a lovely combination.
whiskey and women,
a deadly intoxication.
put two and two together,
elation.
higher
no
ain't
Aug 2, 2011
Aug 2, 2011 at 2:37 PM UTC
I have found
meaning
Does it, however,
mean without purpose
I have found
rain
Does it, however,
fall without purpose
I have found
seeds
Do they, however,
grow without purpose
I have found
faces
Do they, however,
shine without purpose
I have found
Life
Although it seems
it does not move
without purpose
Aug 28, 2012
Aug 28, 2012 at 9:54 PM UTC
There are pins and needles in my feet made of guilt and cheap *****
bits of me are missing left in kisses and paint
everything else I put my heart into
too early and yanked it right back out
too quickly. I'd make promises like icicles pressed hard to my tongue
as if it wouldn't melt. The tissues in my dorm were used up
before forget-me-not's toppled to the floor,
the dirt strewn on my slippers that I just threw out
and left the mess there for weeks
stayed in bed above it all,
acupuncture can't cure this ache. Pumping my stomach can't empty
what is already empty. It's like a quarter on a string placed in a vending machine.
I get what I want and leave
with exactly what I came with
and more. But on rare occasions the coin is left on the floor.
I don't bother to pick it up because maybe it belongs there,
dancing among dust bunnies and clumps of hair.
There are needles underneath the first layer of skin on my fingertips
and they don't hurt. It's a feeling of uneasiness like a knot
in the chain of my necklace. I'll work it out later.
Pro-cras-tin-ation. You are the crab on an aluminum can, a moon lit with moths
a ninety year old man who burnt down his house from lighting too many candles.
Take it all in
for yourself.
It's not selfish, it's right. Because the sun burns the top of my head
even when my body is cold. Without you in my presence, my own hand I will hold
to cross the street.
Don't count your blessings until your hand is around their necks
so they have no way to escape without suffocation.
Dec 21, 2012
Dec 21, 2012 at 2:30 AM UTC
I don't care 'bout' grammar
'Cus' grammar don't care 'bout' me
Poo to punctuation
Poo with a big 'P'ee
Write it as you find it
Word it as you say
Make it real ...as you feel
So text police ...go away !
I guess it's 'cus' i'm lazy
Not bothered and ' so there'
So i'll write it as i 'fink' it
You don't like it ? ...i don't care !
Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 12:56 PM UTC
Stone
swathed in silk
trembles ripples
beneath the lines
that write my exsistence
Palm to flesh
caress
Lips wet
whisper miracles and witness
Love evoL
ascend
My belly tightens
Flushed
******* rise
and fall
rise again rapid
Blood pounds
rushing
hips push
drenched in sense
ation
euphoric fixation
His mouth
stealing noise
off my tongue
an aria begun
and ended
witnessed
Love evoL
He ascends again
May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 7:56 PM UTC