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DJ Thomas May 2010
We each have a voice and life, it is how we use them not how we might!  

Stop glaciers melting
Huge population movements
Death of progeny


The small reductions in carbon emissions being targeted for 2020 or 2050 - are thought to little to late to slow global warming.  The melting polar ice and glaciers together with our changing weather patterns are now fact. The resulting loss of river systems and rising sea levels will mean the desertification or flooding of agricultural lands and famine, then the migration of populations - starting with the skilled and rich seeking safety, to escalate into the terror of armed bands
warring over water, food, women and land.

By 20 20
Lets hope for twenty twenty
A 20 20


There is now the thought that the huge physical change wrought by global warming can be charted by the escalation in earthquake and volcanic activity.  And that this may eventually trigger huge eruptions in the American and Asian continents,
destroying civilisations to create a planetary volcanic winter.

Again fire and cold
The cycle repeats itself
Destroying nature


Was there a civilisation in deep history before the flood, prior to and during the last ice-age?
This has been researched and written about in great detail during the last twenty years
and many now believe it already proven by scientific review of documents and
thousands of archaeological finds, also by scientists having used the exactness
in the astronomical alignments of ancient monuments
to recalculate there greater age.  

Dead sold souls herd us
Lost mindless finger puppets
Vapid witless words


Sadly, the majority put their reliance and faith in
the actions of lawyer-ed politicians, most of whom evidence
a fixation on their own welfare,  selfish self-glorification needs
and an unwillingness to rock-the-boat once in power*

Politicians thwart
Party politics deafen
Propaganda’s herd


Putting off all radical action required until after the next election.  
Many have gifted away the necessary legal control and power to take national radical action
to a political or trade grouping of nations - in effect retaining only national rights
to go to war, put up taxes, borrow and spend monies.

Please no rhetoric
Complete local transition
Forget politics


We each have a voice and life, it is how we use them not how we might!

Living we give voice
So one voice might yet be heard
All being, believe!


We are left holding our eco-inheritance and children’s future in the palm of our hand.
Please let our love and imagination drive us each forward to make change.


Biosphere a greenhouse 
Target the impossible
Please gift some life soon?


So, we each of us have hard personal choices to make, which will encompass both positive and negative
benefits in terms of our time, lifestyle, health and wealth.  I chose to base my choices solely on how it
might benefit the eco-system and the lives of our children.

My choices are grouped under five headings: transport, food, home, lifestyle and further action. They are:
-  

Transport: Rail; Bus; Coach; Bike;
(I pass woods in bud - a Red Kite hunting twisting, unhurried moments).  
To give up ownership of electric / motor vehicles
and to avoid air travel where possible.


Highly vaporous.
Emissions farting -
barrelling vipers
.

Food: To eat meat/fish only once a week at most;
(Slaughteramas greed - industrial carcase-ed meals. Sheep full of cancer)
To study fast methods of vegetarian cooking; buy local organic foodstuffs;
visit local farmers markets and farm shops; grow my own when possible
and help friends establish vegetable/herb gardens.
To not ever feed, cleave and eat!


Fat shopaholics,
a deadly consumerism.
Cancers meat to eat


Home:   A cottage sized for me, friends and neighbours,
overlooking a wooded valley and trout stream.
Like me a little untidy and basic
.

Crossing the shallows
trout fingerling feed at dawn
White dots steep hill path

Dusk - eight painted queue
river paired mare and foal
Foliage lined dark black


Well positioned to capture the morning sun, airy and light.  
Yet insulated to stay cool or warm. With easy access to mountain bike trails
and long distance bus routes, plus several end-of-line train stations
in energetic cycling distance over the mountains


A differing beat
Quickly fading doubled steps -
pulling separate


Life Style:* A thinking poet mountain biker, living organic
not part of the great noisious noxious ribbons of hurtling tired.

Pressured paced life -
impossible  commitments.
Organic living


Further Action: *I intend to give up meat not because of the terrible cruelty involved in ten billion or more animals
being slaughtered every year to feed the human race, but due to
: 1)  animal farming being a major factor in the burning of 50 million year old rainforests at a rate of one and half acres per second to generate huge volumes of greenhouse gases, destroying the richest habitats on Earth and a principal source of oxygen; and 2)  that these billions of farmed animals
are themselves a major source of greenhouse gases
.

Burning rainforests
Feeding to cleave open and eat
Subsistence farming


With ongoing intensive fishing, the world's fisheries already in crisis and climate change,
it could be that we will run out of wild-caught seafood much earlier than 2030!


Conserve energy -
and natural resources
Don’t waste foolishly


Each of us might have a different view of what globalisation is,
for some this word encapsulates the dangers of our global fast food culture, omnipresent brands,
popular culture, changing diets and the growing use of packaged processed foods
.

Freedom to act sought
Globalisation's curses
Octopus suckers!


For many it is the illegal international trade in endangered species of flora and fauna,  
second only in value to the $350 billion a year global drug trafficking trade that now services
perhaps more than 50 million regular users of ******, ******* and synthetic drugs
.

The label 'globalization' can cover the: spread and integration of different cultures;  
industry moving to low per capita income countries; sweatshops supplying this seasons branded goods
to retail outlets worldwide;  complex international interleaved financial trading instruments being developed
by banks and financial institutions to trade worldwide, create profits and pay huge bonuses, without risk to themselves
.

Globalisation -
orchestrated profiteers,
betting our losses


Many see globalisation as being the beneficial spread of free trade, liberty, democracy and capitalism,
involving the efficient allocation of resources and capital through the spread of technology.
Unelected international bodies and institutions such the World Bank actively promulgate globalisation,
a '‘world government’ promoting close economic ties between nations
.

Enculturation
Our sad indoctrination
Globalization
  

The anti-globalisation movements dislike the corporate and political nature of globalisation,
protesting the resultant harm done to the biosphere, a more rapid and extensive deterioration of the environment
and the unintended but very real consequences of globalisation: the erosion of traditional culture
resulting in social disintegration; a breakdown of democracy; the spread of new diseases;
changes in diet; increasing poverty.
.

I view globalisation and it's propagation as leading to the final destruction
of the world's cultures and civilisations by locked us into a
dogmatic world political doctrine secured through
trade and political alliances of states, institutions
and corporations that remain hell bent on
imposing this world governance. Such
that individual countries governments
cannot consider making substantive
radical change to avert the planet
being pushed into a natural cycle
that will end the human race
.

Caged in Fools World
The people hear heroic call  
Each one a hero
!

The peoples and cultures of the world need perhaps just one western country to
break the legal chains of globalisation and adopt a radical economic regeneration program
designed to make the total transition to a dynamic culture of localised
clean communities centred on the individual not competition*  

Only one tool
National taxation for -
economic change.


Here I begin discussing how global, regional and national economies might
be based on the growth of small organic local economies.
not the repeated foolishness involved in chasing lower cost base manufacture -
each time at great cost to the economy it has migrated from!
Then a further culture becoming totally reliant
on the transport of foodstuffs and goods -
I can here you saying
:

"Oh **** this guy is -
talking about change, changing -
the world we live in!"


Yes, I am and do we have a choice?  But such change will be organic and involve business
in the restructuring and regeneration of economies till we share green economies.  
In small part his is already happening slowly!


Unlock taxation,  
survivals powerful tool.  
Needed now for change!


This is why we need to consider doing something that many of today's
plutocrats, economists, bureaucrats and politicians, would dismiss out of hand or
discuss endlessly in terms of perfectly competitive markets, perverse economic incentives etc


Major solution
National taxation change
Human extinction



WORK in HAND

This haiku sequenced eco-haibun is an ongoing project being penned day-by-day by many that care and take action. Your reactions are all welcome, thank you


**Take back control now.  
Cease all squabbling, achieve act - decisively!

Globalisation's, global control cut away.
Diversity sought

Promote well being.  Act with imagination -
for ecology!

Creating employment -
with local utilities, local food and transport

Incentivise tax,  to create local benefits.
Gain prosperity

Income taxation -  value added tax, aged -
dangerous mistake

Local licensing.  Lead don't follow excuses.
Saviour taxation

Imaginative - energy, food and transport -
local licensing

An alternative - energetic strategy,
greening business

Organic foodstuffs - out compete processed food.
Life promoting health

Healthy government - a healthy population. 
Zero income tax!

Locally taxed - by distance it travelled -
and category

Products bar coded.  Point of agreed production -
and category

Local added tax, by distance it travelled -
and category

Local energy, initiatives supplant.  
Replacing at risk

User energy, capture and storage.  
Eco-dwelling plan

Local water works,  supplanting initiative.
Replace the at risk

User water need.  Capturing and storing half.
Securing supply

Communications, local initiatives.
Protecting our needs

Local healthy food, life saving initiative.
Planting guaranteed

Sort unemployment, local work available.
Agriculture base

Radical transport - initiatives needed.
Change made possible

Season’s colours blur - in ageing contemplation
chilling warm breezes

Ganges dried mud - dust
Armed hungry thirsty tide
Generations despair,  lost

Our politicians -
squabble condemn progeny.
Flee panic and die

HAIKU SEQUENCE FINISHED

HAIBUN PROSE BEING ADDED
Day by Day
This haiku sequenced eco-haibun needs prose and additional haiku added day by day.  Contributing comment and reactions considered for inclusion...

copyright©DJThomas@inbox.com 2010
Journal of Darkness: Assassin and Deceptress


Nov 21, 2011, 8:17:32 PM by ~OmegaWolfOfWinter
Journals / Personal




(description of storyline: all characters in this work are dragons, with the ability to change into a human form. they live in present day society, but have a base in the middle of the desert. there is a library with the history of the world, which is operated by stacra, an organization to preserve the peace in the world. there is a rival organization, the dracra, who wish to take it over. the dracra is led by a dragon named Darkheart, a dragon who has haunted the Scar line for millenia.)
"... sahsa...."
what was that mumbled sasha, a small town girl in modern day USA. she was nearly asleep when the voice called to her.
sasha was usually described as a freak. she was a dragon fanatic, and she carried her favorite books wherever she went, Brink of Insanity: journal of the Wild and the Broken; and its companion, Blood curse:  journal of the Destroyer and the Savage. they told of dragons living in new york who had to bear a family curse and sought a way to release it. the author was only known as "Lucian".
"....sasha...."
i'm sure i heard it that time...
"....come to me sasha...."
she didnt know why but she felt as if she absolutely had to find the source. she was barely clothed but quietly snuck out, leaving small footprints in the snow.
"....sasha!...."
she felt panicked. as the voice grew louder so did her heart, beating quickly in her ears. some sort of animal instinct took over and she somehow Managed to run on all fours. her whole body began tingling, her skin writhing. she looked back and nearly choked: wings and a tail... had grown from her body. her whole body turned white as scales etched their way into life over her skin. her body began elongating and enlarging, becoming streamlined and lizardlike. she was transforming...
"...yes!... just as you said, master...."
"...quiet, kovu..."
sashas vision went dark as she stumbled, barrelling through the snow. when she looked up, she saw an enormous dragon, with scars just like the ones in her book. "she will be a fine student."
sasha was dumbfounded as she saw her parents walk up behind them. "greetings, master Lucian, kovu." said her father.
"and you, rydon."
"y-you...know...?" stammered sasha.
"all will be explained in the morning, sasha," replied her mother.
sasha felt tired and her eyes shut as the ground came up to meet her.
sasha sat alone at the picnic table, surrounded by lucian, her father rydon, her mother sophia, and kovu. "so... you're all.... dragons.... like in my books..." she gestured to the two books.
lucian stepped forward and placed a hand on the books. his hand glowed and the glossy books turned to worn, leather journals. "yes, we are dragons. sasha. and you have done well guarding my journals."
"your... journals? but i thought that these were best-selling novels..."
lucian chuckled, "no no. young one, there are only two other copies of each of these in existence."
"wow..."
her father spoke up now, "so what are you here for, master? is it time for her to leave us?"
"leave?! what do you mean leave?!"
rydon looked worriedly at lucian and then at sasha,"you are dragon, and it is tradition for you to be trained."
"but what if i dont want to leave?!"
her father began to become angry,"its not your choice!"
"then whose-"
lucian's eyes glowed red in anger, "rydon, haven't you taught your daughter respect? surely you would know of my ways by now."
rydon nodded, "i- i'm sorry, master. i don't know whats come over her."
sasha ran, shifting to her new dragon form and flying away. darkheart had warned her of this, that lucian was a dictatoria leader. she asked herself, "why had her father taken his side? why did this have to happen so suddenly? and most of all, what was she going to do next?"
darkheart had given her directions to meet her after lucian made contact. sasha flew, tired as she was not used to the extra limbs.
once she reached the spot that darkheart had told her, she waited and thought things through.
once darkheart arrived, she spoke, "i want to join you. i beleive everything you've said."
darkheart chuckled, "i knew you would dear girl, lucian is the same as his grandfather, they both hounded me and tortured me, for their own twisted ways. i've tried to keep as many as possible from falling into their cluthces. i wasn't able to **** scarheart, as he captured me and forced me into his own body as an energy slave. he tortured me even there, and after he died, lucian, his grandson, got me. he too tortured me."
sasha looked at her in sock, "thats terrible. i didnt know..."
"you couldnt have, darling. those evil dragons keep everything from those who should know."
sasha stood, "i want to be trained. by you."
"really? i warn you, it is quite tough. not all survive. you must be willing to do whatever it takes to stop those vile dragons."
*     *     * 3 years later
sasha was 20 years old, and it was time for her to take on her first big mission: infiltrate lucian's schol and learn everything she could.
sasha had already talked to lucian, apologizing for her behavior so long ago. lucian had seemed hesitant but allowed her in. foolish old bat. she thought. she had been at the compund for a year and a half now and had become familiar with their ways.  sasha would often wonder why she was doing this, and she remembered, darkheart had said that lucian killed sashs's father. she always looked at him with scorn and wished to **** him. but she restrained herself and kept on the facade.
today she felt especially hating towards every master she came in contact with. she passed tsai, lucian's right hand dragon, as he went to talk with the master. she tried to eavesdrop but they were speaking in an ancient, coded language. she growled and her white scales flashed in the sun.


"Lucian, somethings not right about that youngling sasha... she's always watching us, like she's gathering information."
"yes, tsai, i know. i know exactly what she is."
"what?" tsai looked skeptical.
"she's an agent, an informant. for darkheart."
tsai stared, incredulous."wha?! how do you know?!"
"ive been under the influence of darkheart before, as have you. something about sasha is of darkheart's doing."
tsai nodded "even still, is she possessed by her or under orders?"
lucian thought for a moment "i beleive under orders..."
both stared as lucian's son, kovu, walked up to sasha.
*       *        
"sasha! hi!" kovu had taken a liking to sasha since his father took her as an apprentice.
"oh, um. hi. kovu..." *i cant let my emotions get in the way of my mission!
"how have you been?" sasha felt herself blush under the gaze of the drake. he wasnt half-bad to look at, and she often caught herself watching him.
"i'm doing great, training with tsai is always fun. what about you and master lucian?"
her eyes darted to her master, her target, then back at kovu. "you mean you're... dad?"
"yeah... my dad... but we students can only call them by their designation. even master scaleweaver calls some elders master."
sasha's ears pricked up as she heard scaleweaver's name. she was assigned to gather information on all of the masters. i must make madame darkheart proud... i am worthy... she must see that...
"is... something wrong, sasha?"
she caught herself, "n-no i'm just tired is all... just tired..."
her master lucian came toward her what a fool, he doesnt even know about me... "sasha, i need to speak with you.... alone."
kovu difpped his head and backed away respectfully.
"sasha, come."
she swallowed her pride and said, "yes... master..." and followed him.
once they were outside, lucian turned to her and said, "i know, sasha. i know that darkheart sent u here to gather information on us."
sasha's eyes widened and her mouth dropped. she thought hard how?! how does he know?! this cant be possible....
"i-i dont know what youre talking about, master..."
lucian turned on her with a peircing gaze, and made her wince as he studied her. "there are better ways to lie, youngling... but not to me. ive known for quite some time now."
sasha felt her legs give out beneath her. she sat, looking into the dust, listening incredulously at lucian. "how... how do you know?!?!"
sasha ran forward, clawing at lucian's throat. she was instantly frozen in place, an immensely strong spell holding her legs in place.  "let me go, lucian!"
"its master to you, youngling. and why would i let you go? you just tried to **** me." sasha struggled helplessly against her bonds. she saw lucian mutter something and felt her legs grow suddenly cold. she looked and gasped as ice started to creep up her haunches.
"lucia-master, please let me go... i was only under orders."
lucian chuckled, "how did darkheart get to you?"
"i can't tell you..."
"oh? then let me guess; theres another informant, a higher up in stacra, who told darkheart about you and she arrived, possibly a week before us? she fed you a story of stacra destroying the world and trying to take over the one that they created. she told you that she was only trying to help restore order. am i close?"
sasha felt naked under the gaze of the elder, who saw straight through her act and through her commander's plan. it made her heart quicken and her scales writhe. she felt a sharp pain as the ice crept up and chilled her thighs, creeping steadily upwards. "how... how can you know these things?! darkheart said you wouldnt be able to know... she said that you held her prisoner... that you tortured her... she said that you- you killed my father."
lucian shook his head and wiped something from his face, revealing gruesome scars. "she altered her face to look like mine... look, and know the truth." he placed a claw on her forehead and she gasped as a flood of memories flooded her, darkheart inside lucian's mind, taking over him, taunting him, and forcing him to do terrible things. she heard lucian say, "she tortured me, she held me captive. its true that stacra destroyed the world, but look also;" she saw the corrupt government of old, and their wretched attrocities. "they brought about their own destruction. we created the world you know, but dont wish it to be taken over, we merely want peace...We act as peacekeepers. darkheart seeks to enslave all to do her bidding. and your father died at darkheart's talons, not mine." sasha saw a gruesome scene as lucian tried to save her father.
she felt him withdraw, and felt the magic and ice withdraw from her, the ice's touch fading from her ****. she shivered and crouched low, warming her body.
"sasha, darkheart is a liar... she's been at it for thousands of years." he watched her shiver and said. "come, sit around the fire."
sasha noddded and followed close behind lucian, hiding her vulnerable state.
"i'm sorry, master."
"all will be okay, sasha... all will be fine.."
lucian brought sasha into his study under his wing. he had her sit down in front of the fire and draped a blanket over her. he sat down behind her, looking over the latest reports, waiting for her to speak. after a few minutes she sighed and looked back at lucian, tears forming in her eyes. "is everything you said true? Is darkheart nothing but a deceptionist?"
lucian looked up at her and nodded. "all of it was true. I'm sorry, sasha. darkheart is a gifted deceptionist and many of us have fallen for her tricks.  including me."
sasha turned back and looked into the fire with sad eyes, tears rolling down her cheek. she shuddered and took a shaky breath. lucian came up beside her and placed a comforting paw on her shoulder.
"darkheart forced me to **** my best friend... a she-drake named Clia... in front of her other followers to show that we must be able to turn on anyone to fulfill the mission..."
lucian nodded, "so I had heard... darkheart has become more cruel than ever."
"l-lucian, what can i do to make her pay?"
lucian thought for a while and then shook his head. "let me think more on this, sasha. for now, let no one know that you are an affiliate of darkheart, it could have deadly consequence. you may remain in here if you wish, or you may return to your own quarters. i have some things to attend to."
sasha nodded to him and gasped as everything went still and dimmed, even the fire seemed grey and frozen.
"wha-"
"sasha... you must tell me now, will you work with me?"
she was stunned. "where are you? what do you mean?"
"you want to get back at her, i know how to. but you must tell me if you will work with me."
"i-i will, lucian. but whhy ask now, and in this way?"
"because, there is someone here, that is going to try to **** you. he was listening to us and is going to attack you with magic. ive cast a spell that will give an apearance of death. just let the magic do its stuff and u'll do fine">
"but wait!"
"you must trust me, sasha."
all of a sudden, everything went back to normal, and lucian was gone, she could hear his fading footsteps.
what was that abou- wait! the killer... she kept facing the fire and listened as she had been taught to the clawsteps of the incoming dragon.
"is it true? you're one of them?!"
sasha turned and gasped, flashing him a shocked, innocent look over her shoulder. "what are you talking about, kovu?"
he was angry, and she was struck with fear. "i overheard you and lucian talking. i heard everything."
sasha turned to face him."y-you, heard everything..."
"then you are one of them! i cant beleive it... i cant beleive i trusted you."
kovu stepped forward and sasha's eyes shifted, trying to find a way out. "kovu, i- i can explain."
"you're nothing but a trickster, a deceptress! dont try to talk me out of this."
her heartbeat quickened, stricken with dread. "out of... out of what, kovu?"
he said nothing but uttered the death spell.
*      *    
sasha let herself go, remembering lucian's spell. but as she did so, she thought about why she was doing this. *to make darkheart suffer...
she heard lucian in her mind. "you'll be going to death-sleep for a while, a few days to make it beleivable. now sleep, sasha... sleep and i will awaken you soon."
"o-okay, master lucian..."
"there is no need to call me master anymore, sasha. from now on, you no longer exist. which is why darkheart will never see you coming. its time... dont worry."
the death-sleep overcame her and she fell to darkness.
*   * *
lucian ran downstairs and saw kovu standing over sasha's body. he put on a facade of dread and said, "kovu.... what have you done?!"
kovu looked at lucian angrily. "you were going to harbor a killer... i took care of the problem."
lucian became angry now, "no, you made more problems. you didnt think... you didnt listen. she was willing to help."
kovu snarled at lucian, "i did what needed to be done. I killed her for you, father."
lucian responded quietly, "you killed a helpless dragoness in cold blood. i have no choice but to arrest you for ******, my son." he muttered a binding spell and blocked kovu's magic. he watched kovu struggle for a moment then went to pick up sasha's seemingly lifeless body. he contacted her mentally, saying, "i'm taking your body in to the infirmary, i'll oversee your examination. in 2 days, i will wake you, when i do, be very quiet."
"yes, sir."
sasha's new appearance was stunning, quite different from the black color of her original scales, she now looked like each scale was a glittering saphire, and her horns and underside were now a shimmering silver. sasha was astonished by what lucian had done, he had also changed her voice and form, making her more slender and agile, he altered her voice in such a way that it seemed that she could charm the heart out of a rock. even lucian who had a mate of his own had to keep himself composed. but he was undoubtedly pleased that things were turning out well. lucian had to change everything about her, her eyes now a deep green, her draconic fingerprint being her tail-tip and spine, were changed to furry mane and a slender diamond tip.
she looked at herself in amirror and remarked how mature she looked.
"you may have to be put in certain situations which may have you exploit some... erm... feminine charms."
"so i'll have to...."
"only if you let it go that far. it depends on you. you said that you'd  do anything to get back at darkheart. these matters are up to your own discretion."
she thought long about this. "i want to g
this is a book i'm still writing.
Joseph C Oct 2011
I feel hollow in the city
I feel alone in the country
But in bed by cars or by bugs
My imagination gets the best of me

I stare into the setting sun
Hoping the light will fill me up

I feel like an ant
I feel like a headless horseman
Friends buried in the dust
Of what time kicked up between us

I stare into the rising sun
One more day and then I'm gone
bulletcookie Jul 2018
digging in dirt and finding stones
so round they pretend a marble
a perfect gift for one that had none

what then ten thousand years this human drama
compared to fluted knocks of Kabuki glaciers
grinding on this whetstone of earth

a millennial movement of giants
hoed out valleys, rivers and sound
long before our first step dance

these same kanji, mound their costume dress
having played an early performance
leaving a staged terrain over tectonic duress

we come barrelling into history's Geo
rat-a-tat tapping our ratamacues
after all, knee bent, as a pea seed of Clio

-cec
DJ Thomas Apr 2010
Vipers barrelling -
high vaporous carcases,
farting emissions
Biospheres radiator streaks,
dooms rushing emissaries


.
copyright©DJThomas@inbox.com 2010
Nadia Sep 2019
You release your words
Deliberately;
Measuring each syllable,
Carrying all the consonants,
Gathering up the vowels,
And waiting for the light
Before you cross.
Certain words put a curve
To the shape of your mouth
And your eyes, confidence.

My words are forced unwilling
out the door; each one
pushing on the one ahead,
an unbalanced mass;
tipping forward until they fall
Out in a rush, elbows out,
Knees weaponized;
Falling over each other, still
breathlessly barrelling on.


NCL September 2019
joe finerty Mar 2015
The marks on my shaking hands were hopes.
I need lotion.
Every crack and peel and blister and wrinkle reminds me
That I'm trying.
Trying,
But still not finding the way.
Wondering why I'm still finding myself in the same
******* place.
I need lotion.
I used to portray the peels and the cracks to myself as if they were
reminders,
of how things used to be.
I used to believe that if i waited long enough id stand over them looking down and think,
"Wow, How great it is to have progressed"
Gotten over all of the stress
The anxiety that kept me inside,
Confined by all of my doubts,
and all of my debts.
But I Digress;
I need lotion.
Because the once shining, blinding, Invigorating beam of light at the end of the tunnel that filled my chest with hope
Became barrelling freight train.
I need lotion.
Because it sent me scraping up my hands
stumbling back to the muck from which i started.
I need lotion.
Because I have nothing.
Lately, I just stare in silence.
At the tunnel,
Then at my hands,
and back at the tunnel.
I need lotion.
But the thought of another train coming
Rattles my bones.
So I'll stay here in the dirt to fight my
Battles alone.
I have nothing
Nothing but the cracks and the peels and the blisters and the scabs to mock me.
Society forgot me.
Your God, if he exists, forgot me.
I have nothing.
Sometimes I honestly wish there was a god so then I'd have
Someone to Blame
So i could ask him where the **** he's been and what's the point of all this suffering. (sufferin')
I have nothing
You *******


HYPOCRITE!

Thousands upon thousands follow you off the cliff like sheep.
Their hearts bare the promises that You, a Shepard, wont keep.
Because in the end, the cold truth,

is that you just want to stay warm for the winter.



I have nothing
And you wonder why I'm so broken.

**I just need lotion.
Stay tuned fans of feels
lkm Sep 2014
once upon a time, on this lone isle
Before you came along, I only knew the definition of "I" and thought happiness was a taste I'd never experience. My life was a monotonous routine of black-and-white I didn't want interrupted but I always wondered why nobody stayed after the first "hello". Maybe it was the way the grey clouds hung above my head, or the way I breathed in chemicals and toxic the same way they breathed in the morning air as it wakes up with them.

2. i only knew the color grey until i saw your smile
Then you came, barrelling in with the missing "you and" piece to add to my vocabulary in the palms of your hands. You added colours to my colourless days and my routine changed when I find myself turning around to see this wide-eyed child standing before me with that impish grin; I'd never forget that day. You drove the storm away with every footstep you took closer to me while the sun and clear, blue skies followed you around as if they're attached to you and I don't stop you.

3. suddenly love songs began to play
Somewhere along the lines of "my life changed because of you" came poems dedicated to you and my favorite was about the times cuddled up with you, feet tangled, under the bedsheets with your lips burning my skin with passion. Your voice was my lullaby every night and I was your shelter from the shadows. Little things like a peck on the forehead and a hug from the back followed by a light squeeze was better than romantic dinners or bouquets or roses.

4. i should've known your heart would stray
Your fingers would splay out to the open sky, wondering why we were unable to grasp at the world when my world was having your arms around my waist, chin resting on my shoulder and cheek pressed against mine. Maybe that was when I should've noticed you wanted to explore the galaxy but I was keeping you trapped within the chambers of my heart. I should've noticed how your heart began to wander and how the shadows from my fingertips began to strangle the sun in you.

5. our love is not meant for happy endings
The days were growing old and I found myself sinking back to the colourless days while you sat on my shelf along with the toys I used to play with as a child; battered, *****, torn and left to collect dust. I thought I faded back in the old days but for you, it was worse, you were forgotten even in the present. Tick tock, time flew by. I told you that I love you but you told me it sounded like I was saying goodbye and I don't tell you that yours sounded like an apology.

6. how do you say goodbye to the memories?*
And maybe we loved at the wrong time, or maybe we're not right for each other. You never looked back and I'm trying to erase the memories from my mind but I think I may have used permanent marker instead of pencil because they refuse to be erased. Now there's something about the sky and how the grey clouds roll in the same time the wind whispers your name into my mind and the pitter-patter of the falling rain against my window reminds me of the time when I lost you.
Theia Gwen Feb 2014
My whole life is a battle between heart and mind
And you always send them both
Barrelling in overdrive

Despite the hits my heart has taken
The childlike state hasn't died
The one telling me no one will hurt me
And that everyone can be kind
But i've built a cage around my heart
Barbed wire trying to stamp out feelings of love from the start

And my mind is no more reliable
The things it whispers to me always keeping me in the dark
Fear and sadness keep me rooted to the spot
Always replaying peoples cruel remarks
No end to the horrid thoughts tattooed in my brain

Somehow you've gotten through the barriers my heart has put up
And for some reason you deal with all the demons my mind has ingrained  
My heart wants to believe you when you say that four letter word
How you could love someone who hates herself is an idea my brain can't comprehend
I think it's time I let my heart free once more
And silence my brain screaming "You'll only get hurt!"
Despite the fact that it's only hurting myself
It's time for my mind to be reworked
And now that my heart controls my mouth I can finally say
"I love you too"
Valerie Csorba Feb 2014
I forgot to remember the memories we shared once upon a dream. The bullets of your love dropped from my life and onto the ground for another to pick up. The blade that showed my greatest regrets tore through my life again as it had before. Dripping, liquid crimson are words that were left unsaid.
The melancholy echo and recollection of your voice that was once so abundant in volume leaving my brain feeling claustrophobic in stature. A hollowed out chest waiting to be filled again with a heart so tattered or worn into pieces from careless gandering. Forsaken am I to you with no better word than "broken" to fill the answer of caring for my well being.
Unexpected twists will wriggle and writhe their way between my adolescent fingers. Remembrance, it arrives in a drop of a moment, barrelling thoughts through my head like a machine gun or a wood pecker at work. A malfunctioning, homosapien-resembling robot is what I seem to be, to myself lest no others believe it. I feel who I am, who I have become, is disastrous among all others. A cry of displeasure may or may not rest on my lips for the simple fact of me not knowing who I am anymore.
Confusion is simple to attract, why must it be so hard to lift away?
For knowing simply of one thing that I want in my life, pondering what is challenging me mentally - maybe even emotionally - is tearing me apart. Soon I'll raise the weapon of my choice for ruining a mind of memories and moments that are dearly longed to have back. A glint of light reflects into my vision, a turn of my head occurs, and then the accepting of a grim smile.
The item is retrieved into my left hand, a pulse is found in my right, and then The Silver begins delving, deeply searching, for the source of the throbbing vein. As it is found, as that artery is torn by the Paladin for those emotionally distressed. The lexemes begin to repeat themselves: Forsaken. Remembrance. Confusion.  Memories.
I recall the statement of being wanted by none other than you as my eyes begin to close. What was being craved for so long could have been mine within a matter of time, but I took what they call "The Cowards Way Out." I took the way not many thought I was aware of. I broke a promise that I never truly made to anyone. Now all I hear is the quiet drip... drip... drip...  of Red Remorse crowding the floor.
In regret, I say I'm sorry.
In begging, remember me.
In silence, I'm gone.
Then, the only thing left to cover the floorboards are the words that were left unsaid in that beautiful, liquid crimson.
Further Jul 2014
There is absolutely nothing about these words that will, or should, make me famous.

They are just words – an outpouring that means everything to me, and not a thing to anyone else.

You see, I’m not the only person that has felt as though their insides are barrelling down into a bottomless void. I’m not the only one that feels a tightness around their chest whilst they flail inwardly – cursing at their longing in the face of indifference.

I’m not alone in staring beyond seeing at an inanimate object – echoes of significance attached that only make sense to two people, and one of them doesn’t care anymore.

It’s easy to say that I opened my heart – the hard reality is that the invited slammed the door.

It’s easy to say why me, what did I do, what didn’t I do, I did everything… but it’s not what I did. It’s not what I didn’t do. It’s not who I am. It’s who I never have been.

I don’t fit. I don’t fill the mould. I never met the criteria, I invented my own. I was there at the right time – and I was still there, when it was the wrong time. Still waiting, still fighting, still working, still figuring it out.

Apparently it gets easier. Apparently I will move on. Apparently there are fish, in a sea, and I hear that one of them will be right for me.

I see the logic, I am lucid enough.

But I also see him saying “no”, when I ask if it’s me that he loves.
The city was laid bare:
like a patient upon the operating table
I walked the streets with precision
I was the scalpel carving communities from the fauna
the city was alive, and so it was truly sick
concrete jungle
projects and penthouses
the beleaguered old traipsed about, silent, but not quiet
the youth, rambunctious and carnal, feasted upon the dying
With each touch, I soothed the soul
Kisses, like antiseptic.
Lectures, like stitches.
Like cumulonimbus, the raucous ramblings of crowds grew
I said to myself, "It is fine, this is life, let it live."

Youth, ablaze with carrion wings, descend upon the old
beaks barrelling forward, pecking and snatching decency
still there are some who help
swooping down like proud eagles, they shoo away the scavengers
they beat back the tide of villainy
they shelter innocence, foster truth
but they are not enough...
I carve out the **** of corruption
I ventilate the lungs of the city and plug the punctures
but the pollution is virulent and stubborn...
Still, I say to myself, "This is poetry, love is a mystery, let them be."

I will hear them cry in the rain
I will not know my place
I might extend a hand, proffer an embrace, but
they will shy back,
for man will become monster
and God will become devil... in their eyes: deluded; poisoned by hate.
I will wonder where I went wrong.
Will I try my best to turn the helm against the wave,
go THROUGH the heart of the storm?!
Of course, I will try
I will try,
but I will fail.
Man will flaunt his freedoms, those which were freely given.
Despite my grief, I will say to myself, "All things have an end. There was nothing I could do."

I wonder to myself...
How many centuries have I folded my hands against the storm.
Behold! It's patience!
It will ever rise,
It will ever approach!
So long as man lies,
It will reach for his throat!
Man will always feign surprise,
It is a sickness he cannot broach...
As the color of morning skies is calming,
The fumes of the rumbling storm are maddening!

I always let the storm build until the lightning sets the world on fire
because
I thought the storm was man's voice in an inimical life...
But I was wrong, the storm is the beast that lurks in the shadows.
It sets the table for carrion.
The beast builds the cumulonimbus, preparing the kindling for the floods of war.

The storm's pallor stains man's skin so ubiquitously
That he mistakes the storm for himself.
The storm is the color of sin: six in total.

I wanted to breath about the idea of responsibility: culpability.
Watching the world burn paints you as the enemy.
We have to do something, even if we're not sure why, or for whom.

God is the people. He is the future.
He (the "Wholeness" of our (human) being) is what we strive towards:
The Perfection of Humanity
The Peace of our Souls
The Sustenance of our Planet
The Respect of All Life
The Beauty of Divine Soul in All our Works
The Tempered Passion of Truthful Expression
Love for, and Security in, Ourselves that Spreads into Love for the Community
Patience Under Hardship and Tolerance Under Misunderstanding

Without setting our goals upon improving humanity, we feel empty.
If we're not focused on being good people, why are we even here?

That's all for today...

Enjoy!

DEW
Dear Dec 2013
We walk
We talk
We croon.
Engine jaws with a few screws loose
Minds barrelling towards divinity
Grasp purpose in a finite reality
We will create heaven heare
HAND OVER YOUR TRUMPETS TUBAS SAXXOPHONES AND TOOT EACH OTHERS HORNS!
Neurons fire like synchronized rifles @ bravery's memorial
Assurance lied dormant on the roof of your mouth
Taunting your taste buds
Your heart as pensive as your gums are pink
and
You let it out
Your cup poured over and you told me
I am home
WE ARE HOME
and we'll help each other see
that home is much more
than a person
place or
thing.
ellis danzel Sep 2015
My heart has a mind of it's own
When it thinks of you the palpitations control my bones
For lack of better words my veins are smitten with the thought of your fingertips cascading down my arms
Effortlessly you infiltrated my mind
I'm not talking about the thought of you,
I'm talking about your undeniable essence
It's like an unforgettable scent
I can feel you when you're not here with me and that terrifies me
This is not a ballad about my gushy love affair
This is a poem about how I found love when I needed it most
I found love in the deepest corners of my mind the widest depths of my soul and on every inch of my body.
Inside and out, you make my skin crawl in a way that begs to be silenced by the reassurance of how magical your touch may be
For one effortless month my mind has been condoned to wonder what it would be like to hold you
What it would be like for you to whisper I love you in my ear
What it would be like for my eyes to beg you to kiss me
It's the tension that will eventually set us free
You are the love song in forefronts of my mind that never stops playing
You are hopeful wishes and butterfly kisses and 3 AM dancing in the rain
With you I want to commit all the cliches
I wouldn't mind getting arrested if we could share the same chains
I wanna feel your breath on my neck while we're driving in my jeep
And when my eyes get wide and we find ourselves barrelling down the interstate at 82 miles per hour
Put your hand on my thigh and squeeze accordingly
Tell me to ease off the gas
Say that there is no rush
This isn't a race
Tell me you love the way I hold the steering wheel
Then kiss me on the cheek
Leave no room for doubt
We can take this slow if you want to.
But baby I'm afraid I won't want to
My heart's predisposition to dive out of my chest headfirst into your hands has my stomach in a bind with butterflies.
Point is
I have no idea where this road map of life is gonna take us,
But I sure as hell need you to be my copilot.
July 2015
A Renee Feb 2011
coming down with it
without it
again

brimming with a sigh
barrelling towards the skyline
the twisted dance
lying in the wake
of an attempt to break your spell

the heavy void
between the lines you drew
this is all the game

swallowed and bloomed
well versed and welled up
to a backward finale

can't read a mile of lines in the sand
won't linger as long as the last

no lessons learned
simply desperate for time
i can't read the blue that i want

untie the knot
of the reigns that i threw
they're yours
and they were from the start
Dave Robertson Jan 2022
As a kid, I know I saw air shows
although none specific stand out,
I know there were skies that
buzzed and thundered
the sound of determined direction

at each one I know there would be pilots
who threw small planes in tight loops

everyday, pulling back on the stick,
taunting gravity to notice and push,
barrelling to a zenith
of impossible weightlessness, momentary,
before the nauseous crush returned,
over and over in front of an audience

and I know I watched and thought
“That’ll be me one day.”
Waverly Mar 2012
Why am I in this month-long
heartbreak?

Why am I starring
down the barrel of a night
the color
of shadows in the sewer?

Because I'm taking shots
at each and every one of them.

But the shadows reach out for my soul,
and their population
grows.

I'm still thinking about her,
for some reason,
realizing how much I cared,
when I used to think
I'd get away from this one
scot-free.

We weren't even together,
but I have these crazy drunk dreams,
and she's walking away
in every one of them.

So I smoke a bowl,
and take sips straight
from the bottle,
and she's still barrelling down on me,
making booms in the night,
making the shadows go boom,
making everything go boom
inside of me.
I’m not into modern music since
The Spyders came to town,
One of those painted-tainted groups
That you often see around,
But Anne-Marie was younger than me
And she went with every craze,
She called me a boring dinosaur
At the height of those Spyder days.

I’ve always been a conservative,
I don’t get carried away,
I know whatever is going down
It won’t be there next day,
The house was full of discarded things
That had lost their first allure,
The moment she saw the Next Big Thing
Come barrelling through the door.

The Spyder thing was over the top
I said to her more than twice,
‘They’ll be forgotten within a month,’
She replied, ‘That wasn’t nice!
Why do you always bring me down,
You’re turning into a grump!’
So I wasn’t allowed to criticise,
She put me under the pump.

She came back home from the hairdresser’s
With a bouffant type of style,
Sprayed and lacquered so it was hard,
She slept upright for a while.
She said that it was the Spyder look
That the girls all thought it great,
With hair like a spider’s legs each side,
Bobbing around her face.

I shook my head, but I held my tongue
There was nothing to be gained,
For anything that I said just then
Would bring me future pain.
The following day, she went away
And she came back home that night,
With a square of plaster on her neck
And I thought, ‘This isn’t right!’

She said that she’d got a small tattoo
And I nearly had a fit,
I said, ‘That’s going to be there for life,’
So she wouldn’t show me it.
She kept me waiting a week to see
The blue-black spider there,
Crawling up the nape of her neck
And heading into her hair.

‘How shall I ever kiss you there,’
I howled, while shaking my head,
‘That’s the end of our necking days,’
‘Oh don’t be soft,’ she said.
We barely spoke for a week back then
It was just the early Spring,
She spent her time round the roses with
Her bouffant, and that ‘thing’.

There’s always a lot of spiders webs
Outside, at that time of year,
And Anne-Marie must have brushed through them
And got them caught in her hair,
For days she said that she wasn’t well
That she must have had the flu,
But then one morning I woke in bed
To see that her lips were blue.

Her head fell back on the head rest, and
Disturbed the bouffant style,
And thousands of tiny spiders rushed
On out of her hair, meanwhile,
They swarmed on over her shoulders,
From the nest she had on her head,
But Anne-Marie was beyond it now
For Anne-Marie was dead!

I never listen to music now,
I turn off the radio,
Whenever the Spyder’s music’s played
On the Old-Time Late Late Show.
The band broke up a decade ago
And the lead is doing time,
He said that his skin began to crawl
With the tatts all down his spine.

David Lewis Paget
The Reds won by turning capitalism and democracy against us The frenzied shortsighted pursuit of individualism enraptured by its own grandiosity Obese in arrogance and false piety Among our weakest links the myth of liberty in the guise of protection against our own From My Cold Dead Hands they will eulogize the depths of our hypocrisies tucked into the gaping cracks of a marbled column tombstone that reads We the People a hollow echo from a dead philosophers guilded mirror reflecting delusions of equality while his window glimpsed the reality of People bound as chattle An era of monsters championed as heritage by a devolved theater of gross absurdity enraptured by a sycophantic maelstrom swirling a wretched mass of vitriolic grievance creeping its facists tendrils through our halls our homes and our hearts So much bluster about essential freedoms now a **** in the wind from a constituency of the ignorant dead eyed before the altar of Exceptionalism A manifestion of the truly unexceptional by a bizarre cult of personality devoid of that very essence Whiny and bloated convinced its oily opulence is somehow self evident justification for its own cavernous gluttony Heavy the privileged jowels spew hatred and lies slathered in corruption shouted as truth through the arcanity of scripture among those who would not know the forest from the trees from the rot in their minds as long as it says so on the TV vomiting endless propaganda of imagined shadow forces flooding the country with fictionalized caramel colored criminals Willingly blind barrelling into a fog of twisted fantasy failing to realize that the narcos envisioned pale by comparison of heinous intention or deed to the very real NARCs embraced Lockstep and jackboot heel in tow behind a tide of Nationalism that is anything but A contrived patriotism cannibalizing its own mythology whittling the bones of history to alternate facts devoured by fat children as so much sugary cereal bored reading the Constitution from the back of a whitewashed cardboard box ******* about a return to values and integrity they never possessed with their fingers crossed Cowing to the blackened whims of spineless parasitic wraiths picking at the shades of fallen titans Packs of roving dipshits trumpeting ideals their grandfathers died to eradicate Prancing about sporting the finest camo and tac gear in a perverse sashay Their measure of civic duty reduced to how much red white and blue crowds their shitstained boxers dowsed in cheap beer and sad rivulets of encrusted ***** trickled in a shame for which they have yet to fully account or atone Fools leading the foolish to oblivion are we God bless the USA for surely no creature under heaven would
Malia Aug 11
As I write this poem,
Barrelling toward me are
College applications and
Dual enrollment classes.
Everybody dreads it but
For most of my life, I anticipated
Going to school with the
Hectic excitement that comes from
Imagination only a child can have.
Just like every year since
Kindergarten, I seriously
Lack confidence in
My ability to do what I
Need to do in order to
Overachieve as expected, but unlike
Previous years, I
Quiver with exhaustion earned by
Regurgitating information about
Systems that I will never
Truly need, but am tested on.
Useless, useless, useless,
Very, so very useless is how
We feel now, both the lessons and I.
Xanthan complexion, nauseous, nervous,
Yellow like the school buses I want to
Zap away, but climb aboard anyway.
Trying out an alphabet poem today! If you’re confused why it’s alphabet, look at the beginning of each line ;). Tell me what you think of it. I would love your feedback as I try out some new stuff.
e Jul 2014
You speak in cryptic kisses ( k i s s m e ) that you left littered
and staining my skin, black and blue from blows that once
caressed, now linger as phantom memories of phantom hands
that ******* undone. And those days, although so far
away from where I am, make me feel like a tourist in my own
body. One who stands barefoot outside in the cold, looking in
through the cracked and ***** windows of my weary eyes. But
would you return like a shark who smells blood or would you
wait like a predator in the shadows for me to completely
fall
   to
     pieces?
When all I am is a fusion of crossed wires and mixed
signals, a train barrelling through a dark tunnel of insecurities
and everything you ever said I was when I knew full well that
I wasn’t. Muscle and bone and marrow and guts, beating and
thumping in tune but out of sync to empty words and nonplussed
emotions. A heart that races for no apparent reason and familiar
faces carved into stone. Flowing through a river of blood like a
drunken sailor, with too much pride to ask for help but too much
guilt to set sail for home. So as a fool would do, I will quiver
as I drag my calloused heart towards the edge of the
mountain top where I will squint, and staring into the
setting sun place one foot in front of the other as
it singes my skin to the colour of my sins.
Jim Allen Apr 2019
States' rights,

what kind of noose

is so perverse

it wraps

around compassion

til choked?



What portion

of this script

did I write?

Oh yeah,

I'm supposed

to be the victim,

pretend I did not

see this train

barrelling down.



Deep in the heart

I can't pretend,

the surprise

was not telegraphed.



What a cheap shot

to fire all barrels

at the republic

expecting to escape

a ricochet,

pacivity its own

worst enemy.



Besides,

if my people

had not been

so intent on

disclosure

who would

have known?



We could have stayed

invisible,

living the American Dream,

Torch Song Trilogy

under the sofa

hidden like love

that dared not speak

its name.
Miles Graves Nov 2019
A nagging, a pulling that won’t relent,
Condemning my mind and body alike.
Throwing each into a deadly descent,
It casts us both into that faceless night.

Long I could hold, but now for no longer,
The thoughts barrelling their way through instead -
I can feel my mind being torn asunder.
Asunder it is torn, forever dead.

Friends I see, but they see a memory,
A manufactured person I used to be.
For each fake smile, the cold reality
Beckons - a future I will never see.

Now the pull grips me, it’s hard to resist,
It invites me to the waiting abyss.
insomniatrical Nov 2021
!
Hurt myself?
Don't mind if I do
Of course it only hurts
When it has to do with you

Will I ever feel like I'm enough?

Nothing hurts as much
As the thought that I could never be,
Enough for you,
Enough for me.

Perhaps the end is closer than it seems
Always,
Barrelling forward at maximum speed

So that no one would know,
Until the time came
Quickly,
Quietly,
I would slip away

I could scream no longer,
And the hurt would finally fade
Skyler M Jun 2021
Listen, I'm not saying I'm gonna **** myself.
Cause I'm not.
It's just fun to think of ways I could die.

Maybe a murderer could choke me to sleep,
Or a boulder could crush me softly.

A car could come veering and SPLAT!
I'd die today!

Could a bear rush from the woods
and make my head a pancake?

Or maybe Thor will strike me down
showing me that I was wrong.

Either way,
Either or,
Whether I die tonight,
From a stroke at midnight,
Or I live to see the morning,
And sigh cause no one's mourning.

I could...
Have a ******* birthday party
To be poisoned by my enemies!

Well that'd be a funny tale
To tell the distant relatives.

There's no way to know
Unless I spoke to an Oracle
To which he'd tell me that my fate
Lies in the gun in the garage.

For when a deranged hick
Comes barrelling into my home!
And sticks the barrel of the gun,
Right into my mouth.

BANG!

My eyes on the floor,
My cheeks on the walls,
My hair and brains decorating the couch.

Either way,
Either or,
Whether I die tonight,
From a stroke at midnight,
Or I live to see the morning,
And sigh cause no one's mourning.
For the morbid fun or something.
Kairosclere Dec 2020
I've built walls
All my life
Barring even myself
From feeling too deep
Unsynchronized
With blurring thoughts
So maybe I'm afraid
Of you who came barrelling down
And are tearing apart defenses
Brick by brick.
Is it too much to ask
To not crush whatever withers inside
Once you're inevitably let in?
Maybe living in my own world has its perks after all xD

— The End —