"blockaded" poems
The pigeons are sad
The pigeons saw that
The future comes with bad
The pigeons were telling that
The prophets born here
The prophet know that
It is the land of kind
, welfare and tied
The religions at that land
The assembly of religions
The peace between nations
Were established there
Here was the prophet David
Who the mounts the trees ,
The stones and the birds,
Repeated his prays
He governed with justice
After him ,Solomon was gotten
He governed with justice
The welfare had increased
And the peace with there
The Romans occupied it
And the injustice appeared
The killing and the theft
Were actually increased
Here was born Jesus
Who invited to peace
At shortest and clear
That was not admired
By Romans or Jewish
Who were there
They planned to **** him
The land became unfair
The decreasing of welfare
The increasing of fear
Till the new nation appeared
The new religion increased
It called for justice
It led to peace
The Muslims achieved a victory
As they built a great glory
And they blockaded the land
The patriarch man said,"
We didn’t give the keys
Except to your leader
Who is justice’s famous"
They wore one of soldiers
The smartest cloth
They introduced him
As the prince of Insurers
as the caliph of Muslims
The greatest patriarchs said,"
That is not the man we did
Actually knew and have red
At our book that mentioned
Him actually as we saw awake."
The leader of soldiers ordered
To sent a letter to the caliph
At bright city wide distance
As he wanted to keep blood
Out of bleeding
He wanted not to ****
The innocent people
He didn’t want to bore
His name over death
His religion ordered them
To save the innocent people
To the caliph to came
The caliph and a servant moved
The leader of the greatest land
At that time, at that moment
From the kind and light city
He read the yassin of holy
Quran that equals twenty
Minutes
For riding the donkey
And his servants walks only
Then the caliph got off only
And the servant rode the donkey
And they read the yassin for away
To count and know time
And mention the God only
Then the caliph and servant also
Walked with their donkey
To rest it also
They keep reading yassin only
Till they reached near the holy
City that mentioned with holy
In Quran with great respect
The turn is on the servant
To get that donkey rode
And the caliph would walk
He said," my prince! I must
Get down and you must
Ride that donkey"
He said," then I will be called
Injustice caliph led the insurers
To be injustice at every talkers
And it is your turn
If the air came to me smelt
With good smell than yours
If the water I drink
Have more delicious than yours
If I created from mud
Made of silver and gold
I will rode that animal
And you must go walker
Ride it my good insurer"
The soldiers saw him
They did great clutter
They wanted to salute him
The patriarch said with amazed,"
See what is that noise?
He looked and said
That is him , that is him!"
The patriarch went and looked
He counted patch in his
The cloth of the greatest prince
Of the greatest Nation motioned
At the ancient, at the present
He said," you are who is mentined!
You are the caliph
"Omar" was the caliph
He gave them the safe deal
That mentioned by his name
The patriarch gave him the keys
Of Jerusalem to him
The time for afternoon pray came
The caliph prayed out the church
The patriarch said
Why you didn’t pray at that
Place at the inner of the church
Omar said if I prayed here
The Muslims after that
Say "Omar" prayed here
And they took it
To be a mosque indeed
Aug 1, 2018
Aug 1, 2018 at 4:38 AM UTC
he spends his time
rowing through the
rugged, blockaded channels
of my catharsis,
the bitter staccato
of ****** habit.
his love
can be as jagged
as gashes in an
Elvis Costello record
thrown against the wall--
the frayed words of the last love song
Billie Holiday ever uttered.
he is two
exclamation points lit on
fire, kerosene pumping through
tautly wound muscles and
caressing our funny bones with
sandpaper.
he is
dulcit woodwind melodies
and jilted viola strings,
epic poetry and grindhouse theaters,
McQueen gowns and thrift store bargains,
the kiss on the forehead
and the nudge for a *******
he is a double helix.
he is the beginning
and end of every sentence.
Sep 4, 2010
Sep 4, 2010 at 3:45 AM UTC
Twisted tree trunks lay
On the black ashen soils,
Burnt to the ground
As the arid air boils.
The tiny creatures
Scurry far away
Abandoning their homes
For a new place to stay.
Entering the land
Which humans populate.
Entering streets
They thought were desolate.
Instead polluting machines
Roll across the earth,
Scaring plants to
Wilt to the hearth.
Grey puffy tails
Searching for nuts.
Forced to learn
What roads not to trust.
Little wild rabbits
Dig a hole in the ground,
To be soon blockaded
By a filthy garbage mound.
The birds flutter
From the burning tree tops
Only to be choked
By the brightly lit shops
Human’s running around
Not caring what goes where.
Driving large cars and polluting the air.
All causing our ozone layer to tare.
Smog filled air,
And trash filled land.
Leading to a filthy death
Shouldn’t these actions be band?
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 9:50 AM UTC
Hey! pal, don't make me your idol
just leave me alone
you'll be on your own, but I
don't care, that's not my problem
take it elsewhere
quit breathing my air, and just
die for all i care
love bleeds love
hate, cold indifference
it seems that the hero check-mated
his pawn for silent relief
consumating belief that they're
Strong enough, to get by alone
he's turned off his phone
the pawns pleading unknown for his
help
hey! this is the song of your season
its based on your reason ing
reckoning eyes
ignoring the skies
as we stare at our feet
just ignoring the beat of that
thump thump
thump thump
thump thump
thump thump
thump thump
Hey! pal, I'm trying to help you
I know what you've been through
I've cut off my hands too and
I know I've a right to your problems
I'm telling you
that you are mine too
and I will pursue because
Love bleeds love
hate, cold indifference
well it seems that the victim's persuaded
his defector is jaded
his soul's been blockaded when
the wounded hears that his friend needs a breath
he mistakes it all
for a wish for his
death
hey! this is the song of your season
its based on your reason ing
reckoning eyes
ignoring the skies
as we stare at our feet
just ignoring the beat of that
thump thump
thump thump
thump thump
thump thump
thump thump
Hey! now you're both in the wrong
this isn't your song
and the melodies long er than
either could ever realize
both need to survive
for peace they should strive because
love bleeds love
hate is bred in cold indifference
well, it seems that both sides have traded
all the love in the world
for cold bitter hatred
all the suffering ignored of
the bleeding and pleading
souls that implored you to
stop
hey! this is the song of your season
its based on your reason ing
reckoning eyes
ignoring the skies
as we stare at our feet
just ignoring the beat of that
thump thump
thump thump
thump thump
thump thump
thump thump
Well it seems that the spectator failed you
He wants to help you along,
sing you his song but his
words failed to silent screams
as they were cut from his side
he bled and he cried (or died)
reticence gave way to indifference...
Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 1:42 AM UTC
You’ve blockaded the exit,
She claimed her corner.
You’ve sliced your mentality,
She’s your only donor.
Easy to avoid,
But impossible to outrun.
High on her rage,
And the taste of the gun.
The water crashes and churns,
Our vessels are thin.
We poke and we ****
But what do we win?
The hands of your hope,
Carry a fistful of eternity.
She tastes the sweet nectar
Of escaping insanity.
The red lights glare,
You’ve snapped into reality.
The givers take your hand,
And lead you to finality.
You look into her eyes once more.
Young, reckless, and restless.
The conscious mind can intervene.
One is never helpless.
Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 8:05 PM UTC
I've acquired the dullest of modern memories,
Circle around the complex of life to find its asymmetries,
And I'm hung,
Like calender's past its prime,
Marked into a blockaded day with numb sun,
So now I'm emotionally fertile with moonlight in my gun,
Aim them at the lions that maul the flesh from my sanity,
Turn them into hairy cherubs for bliss tyrannical anarchy,
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 4:25 PM UTC
A yarn of angels play, loose-braided
Blazing wings have dawn blockaded
Devil's duplex dance undoes their knots
Ropes their oath has plaited rot
Mannacles enslave perception
Realms of sight dulled to a dimension
The fallen world a ruin, grim
What are you doing seraphim?
We must throw off this darkening curse
Feel the irrepressible light of the universe
Yield to the cosmic flow of love
Make peace on earth, as above
Heal the agony of a world,
Then Chaos which has now unfurled
Will be compelled to give its' way
To reason's day and harmony
Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 6:44 PM UTC
Blockaded from my conquests of the flesh
Dead-ended to my passionless endeavors
I wish not to delve into depth
But, to get my feet wet
Initiate me to be
Frustrated by time and time again
I never had a lover, nor a friend
Lacking a moral compass
I try to maintain common sense, nonetheless
The clock taunts
Negative thoughts haunt
Between drivel I am caught
These feelings too grave to be fought
Trumpets of doom begin to blow
A cringeworthy serenade
Life moving along so slow
I depart from this masquerade
Inflexible to my desires
Taking cover
Inflexible to my dreams
Evacuate
Inflexible to life
For life I abominate
Cody Shull, 2016
Oct 14, 2016
Oct 14, 2016 at 10:55 AM UTC
beginning:
playing football
in the communal
playground
pitched between
mountains of concrete
brown brick office blocks
blockaded high street shops
council housing kingdoms.
memory;
taking potshots at metal
goalposts slicked with
the rain and scabbed spray paint
till the olders kick us aside
basketballs in hand
for freethrows from the poverty line.
unlearning;
to think
love like marble
too cold and rich to touch
in fear that it’d turn out to be *****
like two boys
looking at each other for too long
can leave stains no amount of febreze can air out.
end;
i still can’t sleep in your arms
but you never stop searching for me
in yours
all there is left to do
is let
myself be found.
Oct 5, 2020
Oct 5, 2020 at 8:17 PM UTC
I lead, grey follows
I shepherd it in ways my heart commands
I bleed, grey follows
I stitch up the wound and start again
I am unabridged
The death that I fear is only part of my story
I am tumbleweed
But I am blockaded by these shimmering cascades
I retreat, grey follows
Back to a world where my pen is my only weapon
I awaken, grey follows
I recognize that I'm completely off the beaten path
I am captive to my skeletons
And I cannot start from the beginning anymore
So I thatch a roof above my head
And build a floor below my heart
Oct 15, 2016
Oct 15, 2016 at 10:13 AM UTC
You’ve blockaded the exit,
She claimed her corner.
You’ve sliced your mentality,
She’s your only donor.
Easy to avoid,
But impossible to outrun.
High on her rage,
And the touch of a gun.
The water crashes and churns,
Our vessels are thin.
We poke and we ****
But what do we win?
The hands of your hope,
Carry a fistful of eternity.
She tastes the sweet nectar
Of escaping insanity.
The red lights glare,
You’ve snapped into reality.
The givers take your hand,
And lead you to finality.
You look into her eyes once more.
Young, reckless, and restless.
The conscious mind can intervene.
One is never helpless.
Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 3:37 AM UTC
The weight of all I’ve been carrying is crushing me
stones I’ve put on my own chest
mortared into place with the dross
of lies and failures and regret
pebbles in my shoes
sand in my lungs
Is my struggle my strength?
When I put those stones down
when I go barefoot and no longer wheeze
will I be strong enough to face what comes next?
Or will my no longer blockaded quarry heart wither in the light?
Sep 1, 2020
Sep 1, 2020 at 2:38 PM UTC
No human enters this Earth born to serve,
to slave, to suffer, to scramble desperately
away from fire, from threats that mutated
all too rapidly into a guarantee coupled with existence.
No human enters this Earth born to survive,
to brave, to withstand, to endure grievously
through oxygen-starved blood, blockaded lungs
wrapped in wine bruises concealed from all.
No human enters this Earth born to be subservient,
to be exploited, to be depleted, to be drained relentlessly
until heart and eyes and chest become an aching hollow
and there is nothing left for the parasites to devour.
Apr 21, 2020
Apr 21, 2020 at 5:42 PM UTC