"beheads" poems
1624
Apparently with no surprise
To any happy Flower
The Frost beheads it at its play—
In accidental power—
The blonde Assassin passes on—
The Sun proceeds unmoved
To measure off another Day
For an Approving God.
4.2k
the morning sky
performs a hot dance of rain.
ever-growing lime washes away,
white and sour mistaken
by some noses as
aromatics.
a season
of ever-ending frost
absent from windows
and misty
misty
journey
through the rain
without an umbrella.
rain jilts
its luscious sun-lover
behind clouds.
it beheads drops into
the thin morning air
only to be crushed
by the sidewalk.
this excites the worms
who unearth themselves
like fishing-bait zombies.
the worms are then eaten
by the birds who brave
the rain and the slick
sidewalk, once baptized,
now eats their ****
I step in a puddle
with my rain boots.
there are holes in their
heels, and I feel
my skin start to crinkle.
I think of you
for the first time in sky water
unsubmerged
docked
landed
and lean in
to the liquid veil.
Aug 7, 2017
Aug 7, 2017 at 12:13 PM UTC
How can one write of love you people make me sick !!!
A female praying mantis after ********** beheads her partner
And will most likely eat his d$!%
Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 5:51 AM UTC
As sleep invades me foggy mind
My subconscious rampages about
visions bloom in front of my eyes
That I could surely live without
paranoia drenches my thoughts from
Simple thoughts and dreams
& the hidden Hell I sewed shut
Begins to break at the seams
I want to live inside my head
where everyone is mad
& living in that corrupted world
Would it really be so bad?
I wonder what I'd be
if I traveled to my mind
I could give all of this up
& leave it far behind.
& as I fall asleep now
Laying in my bed
I hope to dream a dream
Where I don't end up dead
One where Alice beheads the queen
& everything is right.
I want to be that Alice
I suppose now goodnight
Mar 16, 2014
Mar 16, 2014 at 7:00 AM UTC
We are like neutered mutts,
drowsily as we sate on.
100 years of 24 frames per second
left too many of us wondering about the future
while reflecting on a past
never engaged in the present
always being.
The radio is concerned,
a voice drones on
flies over our head
and broadcasts into the living room.
This energy is a wave, follow the sin
Your body already knows how to covert the pressure
into electricity for your receptors.
Later, we stand at the altar
of boys with guitars
of boys with mics
The aux cable beheads his neck
we pardoned a sea of excuses
The F/A-18 drops the mic.
Women salivate the crowd.
That other gentile touch.
Throw a burka on that *****
Magazine dictate should we be?
Clip up pandora,
the liquid streams on.
There was never a box.
You were just born with fingers and toes
to touch ears to hear eyes to see a brain
to think to receive a nose
to breath a mouth to kiss and say,
"There is disappointment everywhere but still I love."
Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 11:40 PM UTC
it is not the tier of enmeshed leaves
nor the zither of green. none is their duty
to discover the lunar hook of moon.
— the old bamboo is the mistral
danseuse tonight.
whatever the etcetera
of it, whatever the birds demand from it.
a sling of breath is far-flung into the sky
announcing merriment before the child
beheads the tulip,
before the creature chokes the pistil,
before the light enters slow-churn
of synthesis.
hearing the giggling of bush in
the mire of wind, heaving in all kinds
of sleep, the children, the weather,
together; synapses drunk in translation
and we feel no longer the secret
of a guerrilla behind the foliage.
it is only the heraldry of the world
when the morning unclips its wing,
as monsoons continue their bushwhack
amongst petty citations.
past oceans gleaming and
away from hills dreaming — by the
river, dead of heart, riveting silence
of land, past the battered bridge in Marilao tracing deathlier waters,
all gone in recall, something
i scour to find only pining away from
scarcity of remember. it is never their
duty to bring back its image
to dance with me again.
Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 9:04 AM UTC
Dusted off a yellow scrap
From the depth of time,
A line scribbled,
Each letter dipped in raw blood,
That's when I was mad.
Infatuation, they call it,
Feelings that pass of
When maturity beheads emotions,
Foolishness of youth
Flies away on wings of calculations!
After caressing the parchment,
I put it back to its own time,
Because it doesn't belong to now,
The first flutter of heart,
A flimsy fragile impractical thing,
A wound I still carry,
Falling and failing in first love!
Aug 13, 2013
Aug 13, 2013 at 6:03 AM UTC
how when I have arrived at a distant place |
sleep beheads an animal when dreaming
is in search for its body somewhere
and lies over barbed coverts – I am that
animal again in, over and over, lost within
its hubris a dream forecasts with separate proof
near the end of this investigation.
what will they tell me when they see me
after all these years when it rained almost
every day? of what continued trace must I bear,
and may not be mistrusted yet? what evidence
is inflated, with nothing to report?
this long stumbling night
contorts its own version of being lost and again in,
the same covetous body snared.
how when a selfishness manifests itself in complete peace
is when a dream, a piecemeal apparatus
you can feel even the resting tremor of it learn my structure
and are these now infinitely throbbing highlights a part
of me starting small convulsions anywhere it goes
Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 9:07 AM UTC
I absolutely know there is something
hiding within me
It lays low in my soul which keeps my spirit at bay
Oh how i keep aching for a different way of life
Yet i cant get loose from its choke hold
On my heart
I could see death in the reflection of myself this morning
And yet still I cant put the
glass down
that keeps that part of me hidden
I plead for it to show itself
So that maybe , just maybe i can get beyond it
I am resisting the urge to rid myself from the creature that refuses to come forward
What a coward it must be for it is not I but IT that preyed upon me
What lays ahead I never know
but hope somehow
It beheads you
YOU COWARD
Jul 28, 2017
Jul 28, 2017 at 4:48 PM UTC
I absolutely know there is something
hiding within me
It lays low in my soul which keeps my spirit at bay
Oh how i keep aching for a different way of life
Yet i cant get loose from its choke hold
On my heart
I could see death in the reflection of myself this morning
And yet still I cant put the
glass down
that keeps that part of me hidden
I plead for it to show itself
So that maybe , just maybe i can get beyond it
I am resisting the urge to rid myself from the creature that refuses to come forward
What a coward it must be for it is not I but IT that preyed upon me
What lays ahead I never know
but hope somehow
It beheads you
YOU COWARD
May 12, 2018
May 12, 2018 at 9:43 PM UTC
my mind wicked, my gut sickened with parallels
my heart sickened with
not willing to fight, held up in some sort of absurd
absurdidies, and powers adding up, having a voice, having a stronger voice than ever before
the stomach in knots, in knots
where to go? how to defeat? how to find? encontrar? don’t understand?
more beauty? more virtue? what exactly can I give you
the heart sick with mental illness, the heart anchoring into steam, into mercy, into help help help
not yours, this is mine, this is yours, do in time
love is true, love is smart, love is wise, or maybe not
some claim to have answers, but I am deafened, hit hit hit, loveer, lover, lover, hand it over! now! hit like jugular cancer, in the throat, no succcess, blown out of the river, blown out of the wayter, no turning back
my mind wicked, my gut sickened with parallels
my heart sickened with
not willing to fight, held up in some sort of absurd
absurdidies, and powers adding up, having a voice, having a stronger voice than ever before
the stomach in knots, in knots
where to go? how to defeat? how to find? encontrar? don’t understand?
more beauty? more virtue? what exactly can I give you
the heart sick with mental illness, the heart anchoring into steam, into mercy, into help help help
not yours, this is mine, this is yours, do in time
love is true, love is smart, love is wise, or maybe not
some claim to have answers, but I am deafened, hit hit hit, loveer, lover, lover, hand it over! now! hit like jugular cancer, in the throat, no succcess, blown out of the river, blown out of the wayter, no turning back
secrecy, secrecy, beyond anything we understand, behind backs
you're a spy, you're a communist, terrorist, haveyoumightcallit, whatyoumightunderstandit, outlet, let go of time, let go into the limitless pores, scores, scores, wins, only wins, or deaths, beheads, cutthroat cash collections, back to being broke again
you're through, you're in fever, fighting for life, fighting to see through to end, fighting for flight, only few days away but minutes, ticking by, hours turning to half days, turning to evenings, and the writings become even more menacing, silent standing ovations in spring
only for the kid, only for the man, the man, the man, the stimulation, for one more, one more, settling, settling,
holy one more holy holy please bless me, I'm drowning, its my mouth that wants to surface, with the flies,
none for you, none for those that dwell, you are *******
fever, fever in evening, in induced distress, put on the own self, put on without embrace, without surrender, muscles twitching, in the middle of night, disrupted, no humor, no seinfeld, no friends, no life
never finished, never done, a continuing one that wants to keep on going, that is hurting, that is immune to sarcasm, that wishes that it wasn't, wishing it could be closer to, rainfall
, wishing that it could be closer to release,
OF RELEASE, release me!!! I HELD your KEY
I've held it for so long, why must I continue to torment, suffer, why for so long? hold me in your arms, embrace, to my core, I want to let go and sob, sob into the lap of time, its calling for me, as it has called for so many, why must I be depraved? why must it continue on this way?
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 3:39 AM UTC
Not living for later
but together, social
and respected
The king loathes it
He takes palaces and farmsteads
His taxation breaks
the compliance, cold
causes hunger
Threat of war
Propaganda points the way:
there is a saviour, a Father
of the Nation, he protects
the refugees from Antwerp
and the trade, he will
drive out tyranny
that beheads dukes and puts
believers at the stake, that makes
the country pay for the oppression
May 6, 2023
May 6, 2023 at 3:44 AM UTC
Spirits whisper from their glasses as they slip from mouth to mouth
And frigid fingers feel the way to let the cirrus crystals out
And ghostly gasps surround and bound from wall to window sash
As irons souls with oxidation from their glassy prison dash
'I am rust; wilt thou hold me?' silent whisper floats in quick
Before you answer, a breath unheld beheads the flame on candle wick
Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 11:25 PM UTC