"batten" poems
I’m a Polyglot Polymath, Microphone’s a Polygraph,
Manners of a Sociopath-Rhymin’ keeps me on the path,
Else I’d be hackin you up like a cannibal,
Pullin the Chianti out-serve you up like Hannibal,
Words heavier than Elephants invading cross the alps,
Under Armour over Body Armour-waistline fulla scalps,
From the Belt o’ the Celt o’ the Schizophrenic Sandman,
You’re triple teamed by -EC- Raps new Xmen.
I broke me chains,some say I went insane,
But it’s simple,all I went and did was grow a brain.
be the Bane of your life,while Mal plays Dark Knight,
A rhyme Super Villain with a verse of Dark Light,
The searchlights on-watch the cockroach scatter,
We speak Dark Matter while your brain gets battered,
batten down the screws-worldviews get skewed,
Mal and Sandman's Positively Mental Attitude.
It’s the original Irish OG rough rugged and ready,
Battling me is futile keep your hands steady,
I’m no pacifist,and if you take the ****
I’ll clap you with a fist like an obelisk,
That’s a grave warning,-global warming,
The Dragon of Eire ,skies look stormy…
Since cassettes and disks I’ve been spittin ****
That makes wannabee’s wanna slit their wrists,
The Sandman’s calling,come in and take a mauling,
Rappin since clappin one two and yes y’allin,
from New Aulins to saint Pauls my kin,
Are gathering for the quickenin,pulse races,air thickenin'
Highlander in a land cruiser,take your teeth out like a dentist
E.C’s BRUISER.
batten down the screws-worldviews get skewed,
by Mal and Sandmans Positively Mental Attitude.
Apr 26, 2016
Apr 26, 2016 at 1:36 PM UTC
Battle scars, of where I've been.
How do you fix a childhood, this frightening?
A first lust that gave you breath, a reason to sing,
So you found another, a first true lover, and you picked up the pen.
An emotionally abusive mother, who has terrified all of your friends.
One that's massacred all your brothers heads.
And many screws are loose in my head.
How can I tighten them?
Batten down the hatches?
Open up to the wind and the masses?
Hoping someone could understand,
Maybe they'll have a proper screwdriver on hand.
But such is rare.
With not many hands on hand
Jun 17, 2015
Jun 17, 2015 at 2:04 AM UTC
Back of my back, they talk of me,
Gabble and honk and hiss;
Let them batten, and let them be--
Me, I can sing them this:
"Better to shiver beneath the stars,
Head on a faithless breast,
Than peer at the night through rusted bars,
And share an irksome rest.
"Better to see the dawn come up,
Along of a trifling one,
Than set a steady man's cloth and cup
And pray the day be done.
"Better be left by twenty dears
Than lie in a loveless bed;
Better a loaf that's wet with tears
Than cold, unsalted bread."
Back of my back, they wag their chins,
Whinny and bleat and sigh;
But better a heart a-bloom with sins
Than hearts gone yellow and dry!
3.7k
There's two eyes of the Hurricane
both blue
flecked with grey.
Incalculable
forecasting the direction.
Ominous hunch
it is heading
my way.
The stability of shelter
is a lottery
of hope;
defenseless
if caught in its
path.
I'd be squashed
like a paper cup.
At a glance,
she can obliterate you
just like that. (click)
Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 7:36 PM UTC
**Scattered Thunderstorms
The radar shows a band of multi-green storms,
Parallel running to the East Coast,
Stretching from So. Florida to Falmouth, Rhode Island.
Path-dependent, the edges skirt my present location,
Instrumented, but not weather resistant,
Water teases, invites me to a head clearing session.
Breezy gusts of overcast, caramel salty bay waters,
(weirdly calm),
Spray sprites whisper, scattered thunderstorms, starboard side
I am the only boat out, especially,
The only one going for sure aimlessly,
Radar non-discriminatory, stupidity legal,
So fools like me go out alone.
Scattered Thunderstorms,
Unavoidable, summer's favored annoyance of choice.
The melancholic platelets budding off my bone's marrow,
Forming wondrous clots of sadness,
Running strong in the currents of my veins,
Downtempo'd, there is no relief for
Inside of my radar scanned brain, the scattered thunderstorms,
Have arrived much earlier today.
What sourced this elegiac distich,
Too many poets, fully disclosing their downbeat, aroma of defeat?
The world is in a **** mood, not one of us, got nothing
Good to say, seems that love storms ripping hearts
With no trace of mercy, the radio has elected nonstop
Taylor Swift and Jonas Bro's
Just to make the point!
It is so easy to feel ******
When the sun is unshining, elegant distich, **** me.
Thinking back, getting a good idea,
Found some long necked Corona overlooked,
Turn on the tv, pretend I'm a real cowboy,
And for god's sake, shut down poetry,
Good Bye Poetry, for the rest of the day
Value you more than me, but you've worn me down
My blood streams your anguished distress,
I cannot survive these scattered revolver-repeating
Anguish-Cries-For-Relief from the Thunderstorms,
That now having reached, breached,
That now, having infected my heart which started
This day brow beaten,
First poem of the day, already shell-shellacked,
Now, I must shut me, batten me, down.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The average lifespan of a platelet is normally just 5 to 9 days. Platelets are a natural source of growth factors. They circulate in the blood of mammals and are involved in hemostasis, leading to the formation of blood clots.
Jun 30, 2013
Jun 30, 2013 at 2:26 PM UTC
This is the last time I write about ships; the mighty seafarer, clasping in the deep. The last time the esoteric tides capriciously change their erratic minds, left torn between rousing up to fight and solemnly crawling into the shapeless night. I’ll haul, I’ll haul. Outward bound, I’ll haul away from the safety of the buoy, through a thousand spiralling knots, batten aground and set anchor upon the recondite bay. I’ll avast the journeys where the compass takes an unprompted turn, where celestial proves consort to nautical woes, awoke awash amidst the darkened shallows.
This is the last time I go back and fill vast depths, bearing right, then left, across the beating breadth. This is the last ring of brash audacity resonating in chime with the gull’s hooded pride, the last of the salt and sway commandeering the longitude of each tumultuous ride. I’ll roll, I’ll roll. Hanging on behind, I’ll roll with the salted souls of Nelson and Hook as they furl and collide, hand over fist, drawing the curtains from their chariot’s majestic height. I’ll gybe and set back to sail, quarrel with the rushing sands, and grace every fractured notion that tooth and nail can siege the devil’s rest and forge currents capable of hustling both vessel and man.
This is the last of the gallant endeavours, set adrift from buccaneer’s voyage to a solitary pulse at the end of storm’s tether. This is the last stern embrace of Poseidon’s harrowing howls, the last of the rapturous applause mordant as it rises and swirls, the last time I wrestle away from his scaly hold. This is the last time I change tack and set course into the path of the sound, where finally, the tides settled
I’ll release control of the helm.
Aug 4, 2014
Aug 4, 2014 at 8:26 PM UTC
[Dedicated to Raymond Radclyffe]
I am that hawk of gold
Proud in adamantine poise
On the pillars of tourqoise,
See,beyond the starry fold,
Where a darkling orb is rolled.
There, beneath a grove of yew,
Plays a babe. Should I despise
Such a foam of gold, and eyes
Burning beryline, so blue
That the sun seems peeping through?
Did I swwop, were Heaven amazed?
With my beak I strike but once;
Out there leap a million suns.
Through the universe that blazed
Screams theit light, and death is dazed.
In my womb the babe may leap;
Seek him not within my eye!
Nor demand thou of me why
I should plunge from crystal steep
Like a plummet to the deep!
See yon solitary star!
What a world of blackness wraps
Round it! Unimagined gaps!
Let it be! Content thy car
With the voyage to things that are!
Nor, an thou perchance behold
How I plunge and batten on
Earth's exentrate carrion,
Deem torquoise match midden-mould
Or deny the Hawk of Gold!
2.2k
There’s stormy seas ahead they say
The clouds grow like mould in the sky
Batten down the hatches, mayday!
The curtains start to fly
Close the windows against the applauding rains
Lock the door, get buckets ready
But the dread won’t reach my veins
I am strong, I am steady
I have a life raft, small and warm
One bed, one bath, one key
It keeps me safe from any storm
And even the entire sea
Sep 5, 2023
Sep 5, 2023 at 5:12 AM UTC
your eyes are like a beacon
i'm being drawn toward
& even though i know
death rests on that shore
i still batten the hatches
& slice through the surf
& no matter what happens
i will reach that dirt
so there are rocks there
& they will **** my ship
& i will live in despair
because my vessel had missed
but i headed toward the light
it just wasn't your eyes
just a hidden deception guise
you had kept inside despite
utterance from subtle lips
of some love that was infinite
well darlin that dont exist
& thank you for proving it
& i still carry this love
but i will bury it now
i'll cover it in sand & blood
just under this lighthouse
i.miss.you.
Feb 7, 2010
Feb 7, 2010 at 5:42 PM UTC
Yet if some voice that man could trust
Should murmur from the narrow house,
'The cheeks drop in; the body bows;
Man dies: nor is there hope in dust:'
Might I not say? 'Yet even here,
But for one hour, O Love, I strive
To keep so sweet a thing alive:'
But I should turn mine ears and hear
The moanings of the homeless sea,
The sound of streams that swift or slow
Draw down AEonian hills, and sow
The dust of continents to be;
And Love would answer with a sigh,
'The sound of that forgetful shore
Will change my sweetness more and more,
Half-dead to know that I shall die.'
O me, what profits it to put
And idle case? If Death were seen
At first as Death, Love had not been,
Or been in narrowest working shut,
Mere fellowship of sluggish moods,
Or in his coarsest Satyr-shape
Had bruised the herb and crush'd the grape,
And bask'd and batten'd in the woods.
1.3k
i wasn't lying
the weeping and wailing started weeks ago
what i didn't predict was the writhing
literal kicks of frustration
i've never been more serious
more foolish
more desperate
more liquid
what have you unleashed, you madman?
clearly, it's all your fault for starting this
nudging me right out
of ******* rotation with the sun
i didn't know this other **** was out here!
it's dark...and deep...and consuming
and i want to
f
a
l
l
you come and
obliterate
useless, dead cells from my brain
you return
and
electrify
stealing my oxygen
warping my perception
leaving me breathless
and high as a ******* kite
and again you come
prowling like a lion
growling
biting
dominating
sweet mother of god
and again
and again
you son of a *****
leaving me with these memories...
most others i let escape
but these...
i have posted guards
i have reinforced with steel
and song
and repetition
these WILL stay
i'm sure i was but a fly
buzzing around
i can see you swatting
irritated
already forgotten
well, my friend
that was not nice...
to knock me out of rotation
pull me into new space
then pick me up
and firmly plant me back
into the boring old stupid rotation
like nothing ever happened
because of you
i have to forcibly regulate my heartbeat
multiple times a day
these words, for christ's sake
they will not stop
the moment i let them go
i feel others loosely forming
i see glimpses
but there is no respite from this madness
why have you cast a spell on me?
for the love of the light, why do you move like you do?
you know **** well nothing else will suffice
you unleashed a wildness
that will not be contained
i guess i better just
batten down the hatches
with my pen and paper
it's gonna be a long night.
May 20, 2013
May 20, 2013 at 10:20 PM UTC
I awoke from this dream in the rubble of my mind. Lost alone in there among the falling Sands of Time. Stricken by the knots that are tied with in my sheets. No more sickness mama please no more grief. All my screws are loose there's too much confusion. Let me fall onto myself into that dreamy illusion. I took the needle from my arm but it's still planted in my head. I've got that feeling I can't take and it's filling me with Dread. I want to slide on down where the muddy water creeps. Where the ****** river flows who's filled with sweet relief. I want to climb into my mind find Oblivion far away from the feelings of the body I live in. Take me to that place that we all want to go. Suspected fugitive lost out on that Lonesome Road. Your constant conversations have me twiddling my thumbs. She was a torturous deceiver with her hand upon my gun. The wind swelled with a gust and I woke from this dream lost all along the lonely streets looking like a fein. I stepped into a paradise searching for my mind. A gonner with a periscope see me from behind. I'm gaining on my final breath aiming for the moon. Sewing up my only close with a needle and a spoon. Drowning in the desperation brewing in my grief. Searching like a street cop lost along his beat. Awaken to the circus that same old God **** show. A sing-along of corpses hitchhiking down the road. The Badlands and sands of time it's the gritty kind of life. Batten down the hatches so to not let in the light. When dependency is slavery there is no kind of thrill. ****** piece of **** just a feeling kinda ill.
Dec 8, 2020
Dec 8, 2020 at 10:49 PM UTC
Lightheaded on fumes
running on empty
through rooms and
nowhere to go.
I know something's coming
that's why I am running,
can't stand still anymore
or fight
'til I bleed or
batter down doors so
I'll batten down hatches
and run on
empty.
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 6:20 AM UTC
Break out the candles
grab the wine
go find the matches
while there's time
Turn on the wireless
find the music for the mood
perhaps some popcorn
before there's no time left to brood
It's gotten colder
you feel a chill run down your spine
no need to worry
you're well prepared, you'll be just fine
You hear her coming
no more the gentle breeze
The dust is flying now
gets in your eyes then makes you sneeze
Batten down the hatches
it's really gonna blow
pull your armchair to the window
settle in and watch the show.
She's right on time
grab a blanket, wrap up warm.
light the candles, pour the wine
enjoy your first date with the storm
Jul 10, 2010
Jul 10, 2010 at 7:14 AM UTC
There's a storm a brewin'
You can feel it in your bones
The wind has changed direction
You can hear just how it moans
Silence, all the birds are gone
The dust is moving hard
There's a storm a brewin'
And the devil deals the cards
Batten down the hatches
Let the horses all run free
They'll survive out in the wild
They ain't like you and me
Keep them in the barn tonight
Sure as shooting, when it's done
There won't be one left standing
The storm won't leave you one
The sky is coloured yellow
There's a smell there in the air
There's a storm a brewin'
Try and beat it if you dare
You know you can't outrun it
Best to get to ground
The worst part is the silence
Before it hits there is no sound
There's a storm a brewin'
I'll take my leave now, just as well
I'm off to find a safe place
There it is....I said...that smell
There's a storm a brewin'
Jul 13, 2018
Jul 13, 2018 at 2:11 PM UTC
draking death features and tones
no lust lost
in oceans we toss
man only of our presence to be
included rudely
at the suggestion of the wet nurse
thirsty in linen
uniform beds her words
nourish
long as ever is
in the business of breath
methods of incubation
amorated swells in the pattern
batten the flourish of our human ilk
for the journey would calm
our raving losses
and punctuations of breeding
Oct 23, 2022
Oct 23, 2022 at 10:10 PM UTC
There have been times I've been lost all alone
18 years old and without a home
I robbed and I stole, and I let it be known...
I'll slice your throat, and cut to the bone
swabbin' the deck and walkin' the plank
clangor and crash, clatter and clank
I had myself and the devil to thank
swillin' down whiskey, I drank and I drank
batten the hatches, there's rough seas ahead
sterns would be broke and sails would be shred
splatter his guts and off with his head
let dead men lie where they've made their bed
Aug 2, 2015
Aug 2, 2015 at 12:04 PM UTC
Almost wrote that I'd died,
But I'm no kinda man to lie, just feel like nothing.
Questions batten down our doors, the weather some women bring, suffering and solitude, nothing changes anything, can't tell anymore- from nothing.
She takes and gives me pain inside, drives us all to go. We're just meant to be alone.
Hurt on all my days, can't sleep, just sit, stare, and stay. I've been born but won nothing. There isn't anyone that can make me feel like something. She made me into no one. I feel worse than nothing. Sick, tired, and frozen. My reach keeps me out, away from evils that I keep to chasing.
Sometimes I can't keep from calling,
Won't you come back to my knee,
Some Tuesday in 2003, when we were something on the edge of nothing.
The skies keep my shadows black
Everything Wyoming has, and I love you
Something more than I've ever had. Don't leave me here, I don't want to be anywhere.
Hey Sarah when you go
Please leave on my evening shows
You can take everything you own
I never expected nothing, now I've got nothing.
Not even me, not even you, I'm no one
Speaking to myself and only talking back half the time. Sitting on my own, wishes worth less now, feet sagging into the dirt. I was never promised hurt, but it's something I've grown to need.
Now I'm stuck inside the mountains with the snow sewn to my legs. At least you let me believe you once when you said I'd be free and out from here. Just now there's nothing, my feet are graves to ears of yours that heard the only songs I've never wrote.
Instead of burying us away, I'll just take a stick and handkerchief and take me to a country where men like me can stay. And now I know the stories the both of us have had, and in the days leading up to we, you started with a punchline which ended as a lie. I'm just 6 ft, 160 pounds of nothing you're waiting on me to die.
But Sarah I have not forgot we promised to stay alive, so long as nothing never came back at us, and we could have something for ourselves to call a life.
Oct 2, 2016
Oct 2, 2016 at 2:31 AM UTC
I
I know, I
I’ve thought it before, I
You’re right, of course
I
Choke on my words
Choke them back in turns
Fumbling with my twisted tongue
To spit out the right lines
Only what’s right
Only
Only my throat closes them down and
I
Yeah, probably
I should yeah, I should
I
Won't
Muscles clench and spasm at the thought
Never once made to move quite like that
Practiced at avoidance
Pro at backing down
Not even yet a novice at self-help
I
I’ll let it pass, I guess
See if things change, I
Don’t want to rush
I
Know six years is hardly rushing
But **** it’s worked before
To batten down my hatches
Close off the heart of my mind
Choke back, choke back
Clench, hold, avoid
Rush, rush, away
I
Yeah
I know
You’re Right
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 12:32 AM UTC
Is there
Or isn't there
A storm coming?
Yes, oh yes, there most definitely is.
It's going to be vicious, and ugly
And angry, this storm.
Lashing will happen.
Winds will roar,
My head, throat and heart are sore,
Longing for
The release of this storm,
The one they've promised me,
The one that's guaranteed.
Outside, rain falls, but gently.
Where are the buffeting torrents,
The groaning, ghastly gales?
I feel cheated.
I was so ready
For pathetic fallacy.
Deliver, or be ****** forever,
Gods of weather.
Your guru's fail us,
Buffet and hail us.
They told us to batten down the hatches,
But I'm ready to fling the windows wide open
And welcome the chaos and the debris,
I'm ready!
Where are the flying branches?
I want and need terror,
But someone's made an error...
My storm is undelivered,
Consequently, so am I.
Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 6:52 PM UTC
I am not
tall
not jack and the
giant growth spurt,
been small bean
tiny roots my
whole life.
I am
adult child
tippy toes to kiss
those who turn
their cheek every time.
I am not
sunny enough for
anyone to live off me.
I am
9:30 pm
blacked out drunk
photo in front of
my universities chapel
because i never remember
when i find god
or if i ever
really did.
i am
that last bit of
cough syrup you saved
for the day you
got better,
the autosave
on google drive
before your laptop ***** you
and crashes in the middle
of your midterm paper.
I try my hardest
to make you better,
keep you intact,
but i can’t change
why you needed me
in the first place.
I am not
made right,
cookie crumbles
instead of melt in your
mouth
i am hard
to swallow.
151 christening
the back of my throat
while you whimper
after one shot of
strawberry lemonade svedka.
That’s sangria to me, that’s
water
to me.
I promise you
I will teach you how
to chug,
how to make wince
look like wink
look like smooth
waterfall thunder
crashing into gut
as long as you
are willing to open throat.
I am not
batten-down-the-hatches
outdoor basement lock
i am
panic room
all the food and drink
you need in me
i am plentiful
i am enough
sometimes
i am too much
i am the
over drinker the
too ****** the
too much fight
too much love
not enough balance
i am
clumsy
not enough equilibrium
between my ears
maybe that’s why i am
queen of miscommunication
queen of misunderstandings
queen of “can you
say that again? i
didn’t quite hear you.
I am drowning
through waves of
something that looks a lot
like water but it
burns good enough to
quench”
I am
********* disguised as
train wreck
i needed an excuse
to be in the hospital
just to check out
of life for a few days,
lay in bed for a few days
feel too small
to go to work for a few days
because i am
tired of having to act big
seem tall
when i am
small bean
tiny roots
have been my whole life.
But i am
starting somewhere
i am growing
going somewhere
i am
just waiting for
the next rainfall
to wash away these
pesticides.
I am waiting
for the day i become
balanced and
i can stand up without
bumping into some
other clumsy part of me,
i can look at her
and ask her why she’s still
here because
i am
here now.
i am
plentiful
I am
enough.
Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 12:33 AM UTC
If you are sitting in government
With fattened campaign coffers
And your pockets filled up
With all the bribes and offers
Just be aware that the gifts
You take with each breath
Are the direct cause of decay
And of your constituent’s death.
You’re selling off our birthright
And that never can be made right.
You choose money rather than fight
And you make of it a long night.
While the police ****** people
Who had no guns in their hands
You send tanks to small towns
And claim it’s all very grand,
Because in a police state
You can control our very fates
And slowly disassemble
The future of the United States.
Your kids are killing elephants
Along with rich kids in their band
While ours are shooting innocents
In a war-torn foreign lands.
The decisions are being made
By those who have the wealth
And that way there is less reason
For any kind of political stealth.
You can steal whatever you want
And use both hands at once
Then, laugh and call us names
Like uneducated, fool and dunce.
We’re starving while you fatten
We’ve no hatches left to batten.
From Los Angeles to Manhattan
You make speeches in garble-Latin.
You’re selling off our birthright
And that never can be made right.
You choose money rather than fight
And you make of it a long night.
Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 7:48 PM UTC
A silver platter,
I've never had.
Only words for munitions
By definition im smitten with'm
Slow down the rythym
Let the bass drop and then when it hits'm
Spiznit the wisdoms
Please consider your kingdoms!
Held together by lectric power.
Without it you'd be devoured
By thoughts in the shadow-realm
So batten the hatches-of-helm
Scatter the ashes that fell
Sell your attachments
To hell
And roll on your magical mystical
Fantasical whimsical mythical
journey-of-legend
Let's leave a lasting loving legacy
Lamenting is landing zone.
Loud laffs appose.
Poetry & pro's
Just a thought;
"I suppose"
Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 1:02 PM UTC
One more chapter in a book
A life lesson that has been learned
Place your fingers in the fire
You will get them burned
Do not batten down the hatches
No need to nail the windows shut
Just strengthen your defenses
And who you are somewhat
The winds again will come a calling
Once again they will roar
But when they beat against your windows
You will not feel them anymore
Apr 1, 2010
Apr 1, 2010 at 7:21 PM UTC