"bogged" poems
Trump invades Nicaragua;
lights a powder keg to the
relief of everyone; let's get
on w/ it; change the world;
otherwise Nicaragua threatens
to become another Syria w/
Sandanista vs. Sandanista &
drug lords & communists;
mercenaries; contractors
& experimental weapons;
welcome to a world that is torn
completely in two to everyone's
relief for the sheer catharsis;
that is what frenzied freedom
looks & feels like; touches like,
smells like, ***** & eats like;
the madman in the marketplace
is the last person who can spell
Bourgeoisie & Ancien Régime;
Disestablishmentarianism &
Nouveau riche; time & technology
will turn the soil of psychology
churning up some never before
seen creature; mankind is suicidal;
this new Being will have no such
concept; coming in & out existence
like walking through a door; time
is meaningless running in countless
waves in all directions; space is
flexible like clay; women & men
create each other to the limits of their
imagination; Newton laid the foundation
& Einstein painted the ceiling; Pascal,
Hawking; Leibniz & Nietzsche & every
poet that ever lived or never lived; every
celestial siren & songstress who whispered
in a magical scribe's ear & he scratched
the miles & hours & places & people there;
thus, it began somewhere far out in space;
but they've been there all along; peaceful,
loving, able to shape-shift to perform
pleasurable functions in accordance w/
mankind's selfish wishes; mankind thinking
it's putting one over on the new species,
still finds itself bogged down in Nicaragua
long after Trump has built his Presidential
Library & joined the aliens like everyone
else; the poor Nicaraguans & Guatemalans
& Hondurans fighting it out to the death;
Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 9:51 PM UTC
Bogged down and stained with dirt from my past
you washed me clean, I sparkled at last.
You gave me hope, you made me smile
forget "an inch" I gave you a mile.
You reminded me that the sky is blue
you showed me happiness I never knew.
We ran away into the night
with you by my side, everything felt right
We drove into the sunset
with nothing but our pasts to forget.
We were young, we were in love
hand in hand, the sky above.
Wind in our hair, passion in our hearts
nothing coud have torn us apart.
Singing the words to our favorite songs
through it all we stood tall and strong.
Bowing to no one, not even the wind
together forever there is no end.
Oct 14, 2012
Oct 14, 2012 at 9:39 PM UTC
The Anger within me is boiling
The situation seems out of control
The fight or flight responses
Is as primal as it can be.
The amygdala, kicks in
And takes over for me.
But why blame it on primal
Cause religion teaches another
Created by the Father
Born of free will are we.
The choice of being noble
Or primal is in my capacity
So I decide to test my confusion
And see who lives inside of me
A person of free will or
A carnal nature of me.
So when I encounter situations
Which would otherwise anger me
I'd like to bellow in rage
I'd like to make believe
Here my animal is taking over
I can feel his grip over me
The struggle within me is stronger
The ground I'm loosing steadily
I laugh! Where are you free will?
See whose got me now in his grip
And then in the flash of the moment
I see the irony!
Suddenly as if the scene's changed
The reactor becomes the actor
Letting go of a long sigh
The drama comes to a halt.
For in that moment, free will kicked in
My freedom I realized
Yes we are carnal beings
And it's not surprising
Because animals behave just as we
But we are armed with an arsenal
To be infinitesimally good
To be heavenly
If only we listen to our inner wealth
Telling us to above all rise
When we give vent to our free will.
It's that moment to decide.
Anger is worst of the lot of monsters
But alone he's usually not.
He has a lot of companions
His minions are all about.
This matter is not simple
Don't get bogged down in psychiatry
Practice makes one perfect
Tackle your fears and threats
Handle each one steadily
Before long you'll know the signs
Arm yourself with humility
His minions will try wreak havoc
And wound your ability
So stop the amygdala from taking over
Ask yourself is it worth?
What is the worse that could happen
if things didn't go your way.
The answer will be astonishing
When you've discovered your treasure
You'll find the demon's flown
What a relief it will be
You'll feel blessed abundantly
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 9:54 AM UTC
I am often told that love will leave me breathless,
But I hope I never know a love so greedy as to steal the air from my chest,
For I have memories of a time when my body was oxygen starved
And my lungs unable to draw in breath,
Bogged down under soupy pneumonia that clung to my innards
With vice-like, snotty grips.
My mind is sometimes lost in the sensation of frantically
Drawing air inward,
******* it into my chest with great gasps that never alleviated the burning of my lungs
Or the way pins and needles tingled down my limbs.
My brain cells were consumed with desire to force O2 to bind with the red blood cells churning in my veins.
The air surrounding me was dense with particles that refused to aid my survival,
No matter how much effort I exerted to the contrary.
Sweat dripped off my too thin form and pallid skin
As I drowned slowly from the inside out in a room full of doctors
Until they finally placed the tube back into my throat to breathe for me.
The pain receded as oxygen raced back into my cells,
And I marveled for a moment at the fact that I could not feel myself breathing,
Couldn't feel the rise or fall of my chest.
The mark of my vitality was absent,
And yet,
I was very much alive.
I remember what it was to be truly breathless,
The blind panic that seized me before finally giving way to a wish for death.
It's because of this I hope love never empties my lungs.
I want a love that makes breathing feel safe and exciting,
A love that feels so gloriously alive that I am acutely aware of my chest rising.
Love should always make breathing feel like both a right and a privilege.
It is a privilege to love her and be in her presence.
But I hope she never leaves me breathless.
Apr 25, 2021
Apr 25, 2021 at 6:25 PM UTC
***1. Thou shall not worry, for worry is the most unproductive of all
human activities.
2. Thou shall not be fearful, for most of the things we fear never
come to pass.
3. Thou shall not cross bridges before you come to them, for no one
yet has succeeded in accomplishing this.
4. Thou shall face each problem as it comes. You can only handle
one at a time anyway.
5. Thou shall not take problems to bed with you, for they make very
poor bedfellows.
6. Thou shall not borrow other people’s problems. They can better
care for them than you can.
7. Thou shall not try to relive yesterday for good or ill, it is
forever gone. Concentrate on what is happening in your life and be
happy now!
8. Thou shall be a good listener, for only when you listen do you
hear ideas different from your own. It is hard to learn something
new when you are talking, and some people do know more than you do.
9. Thou shall not become “bogged down” by frustration, for 90% of
it is rooted in self-pity and will only interfere with positive
action.
10. Thou shall count thy blessings, never overlooking the small
ones, for a lot of small blessings add up to a big one.***
Jan 4, 2013
Jan 4, 2013 at 11:27 AM UTC
*I do write
When I feel
the need to write
Then I don't
when
Don't want to word my thoughts
But then,
My unrelenting thoughts
Keep nudging me
Edging me
Seeking words
Wanting me to write .
Then
Comes my Mind
The repository and Controller
Of all
My senses
Giving a piece of itself to the thoughts
The thoughts bow down
And admit
it was all for fun
Don't get bogged down
You have won
And Then
I am free to decide
As to when to write
***Right to write
Or None***
Jun 15, 2017
Jun 15, 2017 at 2:48 AM UTC
These Great Reviver’s wild reforms
Now sound like all Hot Air,
Narendra Modi’s new India
Still bogged down in despair.
Shinzo Abe’s revised Japan
Still wallows to stagnate
And China’s Xi Jinping’s grand scheme
Continues to deflate.
Collectively they stumble
In their plans to stimulate
Asia’s great economies…..
But have failed to shut the gate
On the Shadow Banking industry,
Their vague structural reform
And the fossilized grey politics
Which resemble, now, the norm.
Rhetoric is their keynote here
Real action’s in decline
With their mandate clearly squandered
There’s A BIG CRASH DOWN THE LINE!
M.
Auckland
23 August 2014
Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 8:24 PM UTC
ONE day,
a log
said to the bog,
"you're all mud
and you ever survive,
i am all wood
but i always die."
the bog spoke,
after a long sigh,
"it is transformation,
which you deny.
I turn into nothing but soil,
when it is too hard to toil.
the sun smokes up all water,
i become a happy crater.
then comes by, the rain,
fills my bowl once again.
i see wild weeds,
some dormant seeds.
water lilies, papyrus, mangroves,
are all that come to me and grow.
i laugh with them, they sing with me,
castaway afar, but glad are we.
together we live and fear not fate,
that is how i live ahead!"
Sep 21, 2012
Sep 21, 2012 at 2:39 AM UTC
Waters waltz land dancing,
Dragon flies flutter a buzz,
Cat-o'-nines torching tales,
Where beavers are logging
Time with fresh water fish
Who breach as they mouth,
Fly catching in a casted sea,
Mossy and bogged with peat,
And the colours, mottled, fey,
Brindled, brim, know they say,
There are lessons, hear stillness,
Punctuations in the spry singings
Of the never tardy larks, windrous
Riddles ripe rushing through reeds.
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 8:22 PM UTC
I can see a smoky haze
The billowing fire died down
Once clouds of blackness
Obscured the bright sky
One flick of a matchstick
And a single spark
Enough to spread the mayhem
Caught off guard
Every dried leaves and sticks
Came into the lure of mighty fire
Flowing like a raging ocean
Flames gallop like wild horses
Forests are bogged down
To become ashen-faced
Once a glorious site
Now ravaged by mighty flames
Spiraling out of control
Winds give wings to the flames
They travel far and wide
Across the forest floors
Unruly flames engulf everything
Sooner flames will die down
But the smoky haze will obfuscate
The vision to look beyond
It’s a maddening haze
From the fury of embers
Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 12:28 PM UTC
you might have to stare into neutrons
to un-bond the Marmaduke con
your large doggerels are farcical in a feline fashion.
what harm you do -
fondles the rabid scabies
of our scathing
debutantes.
we are
an affront to the baklava
where the syrup is fierce
and yet the spirit
is amber
locking swift Hymenoptera
into place....
you might have to stare into space
to see me...
but be me,
and you might
gain a wee thing as fabulous
as when we bent knees to no god
but had demons
in our **** larceny.
you polished the rogering,
you foggy bogged
the biscuit.
had your druthers whisk
the cinch a
bit.
till we nipped, went.
had our coffee
spent.
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 2:53 PM UTC
Suddenly, it's not love anymore, it's a memory.
I'm alone, drunk in a bathroom and my thoughts don't crawl to the section of my brain where you are located.
You don't have a place in my blood, I can count on one hand the times I've said your name in the last year.
Does that make a sinner because you were once my God? I'd swallow every syllable uttered in my direction, scripture licked from my lips, and wipe my face clean with your affirmations.
And I was clean-bogged down by a perpetual hangover and hands that won't ever stop shaking and hair that never smelt like anything other than your cologne and cigarettes- but I was clean, I was saved.
And every time I knelt before you, I was saved again and again.
So call me unfaithful because I have forsaken you, though long after you did me, and you did, you did.
You've been gone so long, I can't even remember what your voice sounds like.
All I have is a memory of a grin plastered on a face, all teeth and a head reared back: gleaming, mirth incarnate.
But that image can't force me to perform ceremony in your name anymore.
My eyes will only water, no streams fall down my face.
The earth you walk on now is scorched, by women who no longer see your face any time they close their eyes. You are Moses in a desert with no followers, just an endless mirage: a girl who will never love you beckons you further and further. And I am sure you are thirsty.
Then, call out my blasphemy, I swear I won't hear your accusations over the litany of curses muttered along with your name.
I am Judas, I am Brutus, in the last circle of hell, for I am betrayer of the only religion that ever made me feel whole.
But I couldn't spend another prayer on my knees.
Aug 13, 2018
Aug 13, 2018 at 6:39 PM UTC
At 7 years old, I told my mother,
"You're not my real mom.
You're my Earth mom,
And at night when I'm asleep,
I go back to my home planet."
As the years sped onwards,
I conceptualized myself as a three headed alien,
A Poet From Another Planet,
Acutely aware of my innate differences.
No explanation had I other than being extraterrestrial.
Those around me, too, seemed to sense I was "other."
Playground insults supported by adults who floated labels like
"Lazy," "Difficult," "Rude," "Deliberately Obtuse"
Over my head as if they were a crown,
Signifying I was queen of kingdom "Unlike Us."
No one looked deeper at the poor social skills ,
The rigidity, sensory difficulties, challenges with executive dysfunction.
It was easier to pretend I was in control,
Choosing the route of difficulty and belittlement.
It was only after I nearly succeeded in killing myself
That someone assembled the whole picture.
My story is not unique among women
Born into bodies and brains whose operating system is Autism.
We are the forgotten, the alienated, and plastered with assumptions,
Lost under the blind eye of those who spin tall tales of
"Only straight, white little boys can possibly be autistic!"
Generations of autistic women have known not a name for their difference,
Bogged down under self-loathing, eating disorders, and suicides,
Anything to cope with a world designed to break them
For the differences everyone noticed but no one could see.
Now that women are finally coming onto the scene,
A subtle shift in the awareness that the clinicians, teachers, doctors
Were missing a whole population of autistic people,
Answers are gate kept behind assessments that are thousands of dollars
And diagnosticians who've yet to see the error of their ways.
Peace of mind seems to be a right only of white autistic men
Who are lucky enough to have the "profile" of autism modeled after them.
It took 19 years, two suicide attempts, including 10 days in a coma
For someone to finally "see me,"
And I'm one of the lucky ones.
Answers were finally mine,
But understanding one's own brain should be a human right.
I think we can all agree:
The price of a diagnosis should not be your life.
Mar 17, 2021
Mar 17, 2021 at 2:39 PM UTC
.
night streets and scars of light
scarves of light
moving subtle bustles of shadowed light
carvings of royal light robes of velvet light
make out expressionist doorways
strobes of light fink and fit in protest
coding behind enemy lines
captured light fires colourful snakes about
in flaring curved science tubes
flagging the bartering night flogging the
urban night
we've made apparition in honour of daylight
and out of the theatre fear
of our own bogged nature
synthetic ghosts of light
charge away ghosts
electronic noises scare away
the horrifying lull of the dead
(a dead we don't believe in)
twenty four seven behaviour
to busy away the very spirits we have hungered
and to plot against
all that unnecessary sleep business
Sep 10, 2025
Sep 10, 2025 at 9:53 AM UTC
When I was younger:
I shuffled along,
to no urgent song,
didn't march through my day strong. When young and strong are the best time for planned convictions.
There's no acting lazy, or slowing down to the crazy, unless you want to live ungracefully in this hard unforgiving world.
When I was younger:
I lacked logic cause I didn't make clear my premise,
like a man with no plan, a sap with no map. I wandered tither and yonder like a ghoal without a goal, a ghost least of most, no future to ponder.
When I was younger:
I bogged down in metaphorical feces cause I didn't watch where I was wading, forsaking and debating, planning is for suckers, futures are for chuckers.
When I was younger:
I did nil and stood still while the city raced around me, progress to astound thee, forgetting the earth constantly rotates 260 miles an hour- waiting for no one.
When I was younger:
Like the Dodo bird I forgot to grow wings, was eatin by rats and things, became extinct and unlinked to a place run on business, consumerism and cash. On the rocks I was dashed.
When I was younger:
I became he who loses, with a broken compass and excuses, laying laggardly leaderless, with the snoozing and the boozing, and sold my initiative for a bag of grass.
That's when I was younger:
I'm older than that now. But I still remember. It's hard being younger!!
May 21, 2018
May 21, 2018 at 7:03 PM UTC
I'm a nighttime lover, a day time wanderer
I'd bathe in the light of the moon
and turn my back to the suns rays.
In the filthy haze of the morning, last
nights sins are tattled on by the light
of day and if I had my way i'd sleep
through the dawn til dusk and i'd laugh
at the idea of ever needing the sun. I'd
kiss my mates lips and we'd lie side by side
til he slipped away and i'd retire for the day
and nobody would ever cast a judging glance
because my indiscretions wouldn't be laid
out before the world they'd still be in the
dark, with me. I'd be free to do whatever
I wanted with whomever I pleased. I'd be
free to talk to the man on the moon and tell
him i'd wish he'd been my first, to tell him I
wish i'd never told a lie, and I wished I had
said goodbye after the first punch, the first
time. I wish i had a clear mind and not bogged
down all the time. I'd call him a stranger and
tell him all about my life and he'd hold me and
say it will all be alright. And maybe then i'd
hope less for it all to end...I'm a nighttime lover
a day time wanderer stuck in the shadows of
weak kneed plunder and sometimes i'd be happy
to be alive though most of the times, i'd wish
i'd just died.
Dec 6, 2012
Dec 6, 2012 at 2:44 AM UTC
Flickering candle light, braving wanton winds,
adds an unexpected melancholic twist;
a losing battle against formidable odds ends.
Though meant to make us feel romantic
even at the worst imaginable end chapter of it,
a doomed love that made moon beams burn,
itself bogged in morass, caused volcanic burst
in callous minds that walk backwards in time
who did everything to stop us dead in our tracks.
I am not blind not to see the quivering,
drops of tear, in your once much adored eyes,
I won't see any more after crossing this point of no return.
Doesn't this look like the perfect **** they had,
a story, in the middle brought to a deliberate end;
we can't stop it anyway, except acting out our parts
that we didn't see us doing til this moment.
All we could do is this, give a loving burial
to this doomed love, let romance be the theme ,
in candle light we'll quietly cremate it, may the remains of it,
ashes wind scatter,be the salt of the earth, for ever.
Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 8:31 AM UTC
I'm sick and I'm tired of these men always tellin me
I gotta be round, ***** curvy and sultry
To be down with the boys I must want all the novelties
They fantasize about in their minds, sprinkled with misogyny
Lookin up and down, undressin me with droolin eyes
Can't walk across busy streets without feelin victimized
Violated in public, creeps sneakin peaks up my skirt
All cause I wore tight clothes with a lower cut shirt
Is this all I am, some delectable tasty treat?
Just cause you think I'm delicious don't mean I want your meat
I'm vegetarian now, keep your distance please
Only hungry for life and creativity
Yearnin to grow and continue to educate
Myself even if that means makin mistakes
Already have media fillin my brain with these lies
Don't need to be feelin your hands up my thighs
No I'm not your girl, don't even wanna look at you
Cuz you'll misunderstand my glance for bein into you
So what if you call me a ***** or a ****
Don't care-I won't be the chick bustin your nuts
Just want my mothers and daughters and sisters to know
We're not created to give men any type of show
We're human beings capable of thinking and feeling
As well as making decisions, we have a purpose, a meaning
Other than getting all **** and appealing
Silenced and bogged down by society
Women ***** and murdered, blamed for their femininity
It's a shame men don't realize without us they would never be
We're the only *** on this earth capable of maternity
As breeders of life we nurture and care
Yet our voices seldom heard, like we're not even there
It's time women put a stop to this ****** up** ideology
That we matter far less than our male counterparts - what equality?
Hating on feminism just because they don’t see
This world overflowing with double standards and ongoing dichotomy
Between the two sexes- sure it’s not how it used to be
But sexism runs rampant and will for eternity
Unless we all - men and women - fight against it globally.
Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 3:52 PM UTC
A bouquet hung in afterhour pantry,
A bell to ring the starved noise,
Two spirit's gathering extraterrestrial information,
A stairway chalked by toys!!!
A damp moistness to bleed out ourn Laugh's,
No docteretic sources,
Just serene gleams of minds alike inbathed!!!
Abundance of sizziling swelter,
Bogged heavy in due rain heat,
A voisterous composition,
The crow polishes ourn two's feet!!
I tasteth her plum need,
She gravels our toes,
Fulminations children breed,
In translucent clear clothes!!!
We wither in feathered juiciness,
Where fences are none to find,
Wherein camera's we make to shiver,
We break back's on massage oil chyme!
She reaches over to take mine fears,
She maketh me a warmsome bed,
Different valley's in singular astronomical view,
Both alive, yet so dead!!
Ourn peritonium's hunch in closer,
As ourn cartilage gets renaissance,
Were two alike, a Shakespherian Poe poster,
A darkness and light of Dupont!!!
Puzzles with missing pieces,
Though we ourn selves fill the gaps,
Where none can enter between us,
For ourn chapters are ammophilously wrapped!!!
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 9:33 PM UTC
Veins, veins,
length and breadth,
intertwined
beats to freedom
or desolation;
a terminus
lost on a circular.
An ebbing destination,
unchartered targets,
Follow the signs.
We are a one way street,
follow the signs
on software maps.
Stumped
by sequential lights
and us, caught
in a dragnet
within steely fish,
gasping for air,
choking on smoke,
bilious coughs,
hacking sputum,
gobbing phlegm globs
in interval gaps
within gridlocks;
nose to **** to
nose to ****
The rage, the stares
the shouts, the finger,
the Grrr’s, the Rrrr’s,
the honks, the blares,
the bumper to bumper
expletive shares.
The rolling down,
the alighting,
the threats,
the fighting.
The falling down,
the separation,
reseating,
the rolling,
the thunder,
the trudge,
the stops, the starts.
Follow the signs,
follow the signs.
Robotic conveyors
for humans,
mechanical
fossil fueled
chariots,
grumbling, grunting,
wheee-ing and
screeching,
and screaming
and spewing
and chuffing
and guffing
black plumes,
air tarred,
veins, veins
clogged and bogged,
viscous, molasses,
liquid black blob.
Road fogged,
numbers logged.
Veins, veins,
follow the signs,
slow crawl.
Veins, veins,
follow the signs,
follow the signs,
sprawl.
Copyright Marc Hawkins 2017
Nov 12, 2017
Nov 12, 2017 at 6:20 AM UTC
I tear my bones
To try and not
Hear the drones,
Drill in dot.
But soil so ill
Is where I tread.
Shriek when fill
Buddhist debts.
Behind the pillars
In cenotaphs,
Edge killers
Of my calfs
I bread bogged down.
So they would claim
The forest crown,
Clear my name.
Fear my ingrowns!
Alas, they rot,
Drink the drones,
Drill in dot.
Dec 1, 2018
Dec 1, 2018 at 3:02 PM UTC
I've lived as much as I've loved
And I've loved twice more than I've lost
And I've died more so than that
And I'll begin with a crawl
And I'll end in a run
And start with a bang
And end with silence
I've lived
I've lost
I've loved
And I've died.
And never for a single time have I cried
Because life is too beautiful to see behind glassy eyes
and loss is too enigmatic to be objectified
Love is too free to be bogged down in emotions
And death is too sweet and caring to cause a commotion
And I've lived
So I've lost
And I've loved
And I've died.
But who, in the end, really cares about my time
As a being
As a plant
As the most significant ant
I've been a star and a nebula
The moon, the earth, the winds, and fire, I've been all of that, even desire
And I've lived
And I've loved
And I've lost
And I've died.
Sep 16, 2012
Sep 16, 2012 at 3:58 PM UTC
Thirteen thousand strides progress
Blind leathern tread with gritted teeth
Stride hard rough bracken heather strive
Incipient thought embrace the scarp
Bent shoulder strain web strap entrench
Sharp body lean oppose the wind
Slow pitch forward cold lash rain
Pause..Shrug pack .. Lurch on again
Rough rock scrape pass
Sharp edge hand scrape
Each tread ascend dull lactic ache
Stone eyes cast up
Embrace dark peak
Surge on .. Dig in..
Embrace the pain
Aggressive stance.. find strength begin
Engage the enemy entrenched within
With comrades in adversity
Side glance reveal
Grey brother tight
Mordant ploughshare gleaming bright
United thought strong purpose right
Grim grimace glower grinding on
Helping hand support and share
Exchang-ed glances sing the pain
Relentless climb advance distain
Strong ******* stride bogged into mire
Grappling cragfast handclasp dire
Entropic spirit brief despair
Revelatory cause unswayed
Each cloistered personal crusade
Burst upwards into sunlight flame
And stand with vision intertwined
Each grim companion lasting friend
Eyes meet brief recognition shout
We know what it’s all about
These clasping minds
Empath embrace
Profound cognitive self aware
To follow where few others dare
These comrades in adversity
Oct 30, 2009
Oct 30, 2009 at 7:24 AM UTC