"bombarding" poems
perhaps a subject already well covered. but I consult no one else,
who can expertly summon the artificial artifacts, no better yet,
art~iN~facts of prior expert~tease, and speak only and wholly
for myself, blatant, and openly undisguised
it is the spilling, the upward sensory explosive detonating,
in a pressured chest, the eagerness
to race, to complete,
find the next line, to define, to refine to get the balance tween
elegance and simplicity, to have the ******** sensory totality
of completely having spun off a piece of me and let it free float as a balloon, that may fly to China or get stuck on a telephone pole
just beyond my front door
=============
^ I write this midst the composition of another poem, wherein
unusually I feel the need to pause, collect my thoughts which are bombarding my atoms internal, causing a new fissionable element,
distinct and unique, my poem…next…
Sep 21, 2025
Sep 21, 2025 at 5:02 AM UTC
The dark winter sky was draped with stars whose dainty shimmer
mimicked the sprinkle of snow
caught up in the crisp winter breeze.
The white flakes winked as they came to rest upon a silent sheet of ice,
accumulating on the sleek surface until abruptly–
a clatter of loud and excited voices interrupted.
Skates slashed and
sticks crashed onto the cold, hard ice.
A black puck cascaded haphazardly across the rink, bombarding the once settled snow.
Chunks of ice catapulted recklessly,
the smell of sweat rose relentlessly into the wind.
Furious and frozen wisps of breathe were choked,
as bitter cold filled eager lungs.
The ruthless weather, however, could scarcely graze the laughing dimples on rosy cheeks.
But just as hastily the clatter was silenced,
the commotion halted.
Footprints crunched softly away, their noise secretly swept away
by the sprinkle of snow
caught up in the crisp winter breeze.
Aug 30, 2012
Aug 30, 2012 at 11:17 AM UTC
The loving puddle in the gutter off market street-- the one that fills with dirt and **** and damp newspaper, plastic soda cup, strange indecipherable Chinese pamphlets with bleeding characters. She smiles at the sun and renders its visions on her face, and with great tension attempts to demonstrate her willingness, her blushing consent to being totally subsumed by its whims. Of course she trembles at the diurnal stampede of feet, but is not afraid-- for she too speaks in eternity. She has evaporated before-- she has kissed the incessant sky over Marrakesh in the soft morning and dreams of the sparkling mountainsides in the night, when she is divided by callous rubber tires or cast below by competing distant rains. Yet she has always found her way back home; Nestled in the subtle indentation of road besides the brickway near Battery.
"Dewdrop, let me cleanse
in your brief
sweet waters . . .
These dark hands of life"
It was one of the waning days of winter, in the blurred haze of rains, when we left the coast and began our journey home. As she drove, I watched the pebbled streaks roll across the window into great vertical streams, to be cast off indistinct along the stationary road. Upon all our sides, Even the black-toothed mountain tops lost their grandiose summits into the fog. Off the road, next to the sagging remains of a gas station, a man sat beneath the naked fist of an old willow tree. He, with a teal umbrella, twirled the nylon circle so that the collecting sheen of water spun and spiraled centrifugal out into the bombarding camaraderie of fellow drops. The damp fields sat empty of life behind him, casting into evanescent black oceans of dirt. As we hurried past, I turned back-- and following him with my own watering eyes, I watched for as long as I could--until he too faded silently into the mist.
Sep 4, 2018
Sep 4, 2018 at 3:27 AM UTC
...And then I claimed hell and embedded my soul in mercury
Spun in cotton candy.
Sweet and dandy.
Honey of kindness is what I usually am.
Glazed with a temper of redness and lust
With reckless catapults of whimsical feathered *****
In carefully-woven baskets
Bombarding blanks with loud bangs.
And an identity which took years to make,
I'm a bi-tempered soul of icy / lava flow.
Wanting, needing, consuming life...
Give me flattery and attention!
I was exempt from life's detention!
I was spoiled by the caring hearts of my DNA angels!
Rage first, I protest.
Regrets later, I detest.
I'm a clusterfuck of mixed intentions.
Real words don't spill much beyond fire lake.
Oct 10, 2015
Oct 10, 2015 at 7:08 PM UTC
Rabbit tracks in the snow
padded foot, here we go:
Found beside a lake,
far away for you to seek.
Festivities of the fastidious,
i was all but oblivious.
Promising frostiness,
the air, alit and aglow.
Bombarding me
quietly
with parallelism,
banging noiselessly
off the fire
of the morning sunshine.
Mollified, the world
stirs in its lack of commotion.
Meek blunders of the fortnight,
i wish to forego.
My star,
faded from the sky.
You are
what brings me high.
I will
be with you,
upon
the epoch of
tomorrow’s
morn, come nigh.
Dec 10, 2011
Dec 10, 2011 at 4:12 PM UTC
*I, fluoride - sanity theft
Winding toy soldiers
to march the path toward furtive glory
While spurting the tune of war
to the end of their very last breaths*
*Harbinger of certain death
Peek from behind the curtain
Witness the brain mining
From inside your skull
eyeballs explode, deftly blinding
Defining images which pervade
Overwhelming emotions stowed
Once turned to stone
mental harm, tractor combines harvest FarmVille tards by the barnload
Certainly,
The eye of Horus and ISIS see all
scorching and seizing nations, arm in arm
All for one, none for all
Bombarding bravado
Clasp the trap
Lapse in conscious
All tapped out
Drowning in tap water
Until all comes tumbling down like Niagara Falls, dauntless
Like Satan's hands expanding
advance upon the homeland
Then race trickling downward
Total assest forfeiture
***** buried in sand)*
Faces hidden, ashamed
Orchestrate the line in frame
Shape my frame of mind
Until my thoughtscape escapes
To peer through one eye
Met to widespread acclaim
Descending into the mind of Chaos,
His stables gates
burst forth with beasts of fable, insatiable and rampant
Triumphant, turn the tables
Arch-Angels blare your trumpets
*Tell Famine get off his high horse
And rear his ugly head
So we can really show that *****
Mother Earth what for;
**** that ***** until nothing's left*
*Effectively wrecked
From careening trains of wretched *********
Now she's hit
& the caged bird that longs to be free, is inevitably
dismembered to pieces by the felines that be*
Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 4:07 PM UTC
Trapped within this heat there’s an
Ocean of thoughts defeating me.
Suicide has come and gone even death
Is confused. I am awake yet the whole
Of ikasi is half-asleep.
Conflict between races: black, white, yellow,
I mix these colors and get red for bloodshed
Bombarding my mind as I choose my artillery:
Butcher’s knife or bread knife? Mxm **** it, I opt to
Load my machine gun as I take no prisoners.
I live only by one rule “spare not the feelings of those
Who have none.”
As my stu-stu-stu-stuttering riffle goes “tat’ i cover lova,”
They blaze to bushes with rampaging speed and seeing as my weight
Constitutes a majority of ten, I choose to be democratic and side with its
Vote, by not running but instead sending a hail of bullets.
Voetsek, Voetsek and Voetsek I say!!
As dusk breaks into dawn I am shattered into reality as prison introduces me to myself. I started shaking like the last shivering leaf on a dying tree and came to realize: The person whom I slaughtered was not only my neighbor, but was also my brother and if I have to suffer for my brother whom they call ikwerekere to survive, then I say “give me pain till I die!”.
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 8:18 AM UTC
vast vivid wilderness
analyze politicians mind
hypocrites world dies in lies
moral devolution,hiding in white
lose of mind,gravity inside
zero nothing, sometime
1 is a separate thing
a velvet plaything
breathing in the fumes
lobotomized muse
trying to do what is right
don't forget, never forget
to start walking in the grey
memories they slowly fade
from this harsh reality
exist inside, resist tide
inside you'll see it die
justify your wicked mind
the eyes torture tantalize
3 rings, out in time
bombarding mind
find it not linear time
time line separate thing
velvet plaything
treated like lobotomized dogs
vast vivid life of pain
wires forced into my brain
trying to do what is right
don't forget, never forget
to start walking in the grey
memories they slowly fade
from this harsh reality
exist inside, resist tide
inside you'll see it die
justify your wicked mind
Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 3:39 PM UTC
...But at night
My head is a radio tower
The thoughts and information bouncing off the walls of my mind
Front to back
Voices from different frequencies
Endlessly bombarding me.
Never stopping
Never ending.
.
.
.
.
And for the first time in my life
.
.
.
I find myself begging for a place
.
.
.
Where I don't get cell service.
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 4:20 AM UTC
I watched adrift on a putrid plank
That had saved me once before
‘Twas the elusive Pride of the Pacific
Constructed in ‘74
Her bronze bells and mighty foghorn
Commanded all to make way
And the tides knelt beside her feet
To congregate as they say:
“Tis pitiful, such punishment
Bestown upon the Ancient Blue
Our vengeance creeps forth each day
And will drown this peace askew.
Their corpulence, disgusting
As they carouse all day and night
Limiting themselves to their marvels”
Alas! A human they spied in sight!
“The humans have rejected you
From their blissful celebration
Now let us stir up trouble
For complete annihilation!”
With swift currents bombarding,
The passengers fled with haste
And in one implacable calamity,
The ship was left to waste
The bronze bells won’t resound
With the ship flipped on its hull
The foghorn’s left to drown
As beauty is left to null.
I sobbed adrift a putrid plank
Never abandoned from the start
“Such horrors would go unnoticed
If humanity had the heart!”
Mar 4, 2010
Mar 4, 2010 at 10:32 AM UTC
To perpetually please the vanity of a has-been
They’ve invented the ministry of leftover ideas
With leftover civil servants
Writing leftover policies
Based on leftover ideas
Ideals from the past
Become today’s secondhand *******
Presented as pillars
Of a bright and better future
When what we really get
Is the obsolete creating the obnoxious
A shady cabinet
With the allure of a shadow cabinet
With invisible MP’s
Serving an irritating Prime Minister
A tax-avoiding ****
Who enthusiastically supports
The ideas of last century
Bombarding every ministry
Into the ministry of leftover ideas
Apr 15, 2016
Apr 15, 2016 at 9:23 AM UTC
a cloudburst, penetrated our world
with thrusts as deep as the eye of our
storm, coasting over us in heaved
passion; unleashed with each
dip and sway
bombarding...
our core in showered felicity; tasting
euphoria's longing, titillated to the tips
of our toes; saturating her soft spots,
her rain and I were one curled, pelvis
to hip
sliding in out as hands caressed in rhythm,
wanting to taste her rain once again;
cultivating in her delicacy, nibbling tautness;
remembering moments our lips said hi
besieging me...
as her raindrops seeped, causing our
steam to rise, each drop in hunger;
I'd delve deeper into oblivion,losing
myself in raged deluges of her
rain's cloudburst...
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 12:59 PM UTC
Shall I take my life away
Strip the essence of disgust
From a beautiful aroma of life
Shall I envy no longer
The tears that seem foreign
To vacant hollow depths
Soulless windowpanes that echo
The pain of a thousand voices
Yet I seem to struggle
With these tornado winds
Ripping through my heart
Desecrating the holy lands
That once flourished with Love and Innocence
Now Godforsaken
Shot down in the middle of night
Crashing burning into hallowed grounds
Aerial assault bombarding
Leaving ruins and corpses
Thirsty for the spillage of my blood
Carving rivers into my wrist
Breaking dams in my veins
Letting the ****** tsunami rage
Drowning myself in its depth
Godforsaken
Now I shall die
Simply because I'm pathetic
Always thinking I can save the world
With six lines or outstretched arms
All I'm doing is setting it up
For its inevitable failure
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 8:36 PM UTC
Your hands stole the starlight
To paint my body
In vivid hues of heaven
Unrestrained rapture
Soars like a firework
Exploding out into darkness
Bombarding colours
Fragmenting sensation
Cool night air
Delicately wanders
Fanning my flaming skin
Stroking my fascination
The heady scent of desire
Infusing earthly compulsion
Thrusting towards celestial pleasures
In an effort to enter nirvana
Soft folds seek firm flesh
Ripening under your touch
Ready to burst with sweet ambrosia
Flowing through your fingers
Demanding in quest
Your skyrocket
Burns through my atmosphere
Leaving trails of stardust that
Quiver along my body
As you cradle me in hushed epilogue
And I descend .....
Back to a garden
Bathed in moonlight
(C) Pixievic
May 23, 2016
May 23, 2016 at 12:01 PM UTC
Sensations revolve around me
All are causing me to react
Some are foreign, some friendly
One is too familiar for any tact
As this world of many feelings
Revolves steadily about my head
One is perpetually bombarding
It's those simple words you once said
You remember those fateful words
That generate nothing but sorrow
I can hear them echoing now
As if you uttered them not so long ago
But it wasn't that long for me
For I never will move on from this
I'm trapped in that broken moment
My mind forever set amiss
So I will sit in a mournful world
Reliving those words that undo
That forever ring in my mind's ear
"I just don't think I can trust you..."
Nov 7, 2011
Nov 7, 2011 at 8:00 PM UTC
Conversation inhibited,
Yet also free of constraint,
Small talk a challenge,
In depth conversation my forte
And interrogation my ally
Bombarding others with quick fire questions,
‘You’re too deep’ it has been said more than once
As I reveal too much once again.
Misunderstanding social cues,
Eye contact a no no,
****** expressions a blur,
Tone of voice a trigger,
Hence emotions a minefield.
Literal listening,
Literal speaking,
Leading to sense of humour bypass,
Don’t waste your innuendos, irony and sarcasm on me,
Direct speaking is what wins the day.
Overwhelming sensory overload,
Confusion,
Misunderstanding,
Mishearing,
Tendency towards negativity,
Introversion,
A war of words
Inside my head
Pouring out my mouth,
Tearing me apart
And those whom I love.
Now working hard to change the script,
To be aware of the impact of deficiencies, defensiveness and quirkiness,
To remain level headed and mindful
As I alternate between tiptoeing and running roughshod
Through the labyrinth of life.
Dec 29, 2021
Dec 29, 2021 at 9:09 PM UTC
Their heads bent low, they slept
Through wind, rain and hail.
Ice bombarding their delicate petal
Sheilded like a fragile veil.
But this veil is tough and robust
Red poppies dot the sky line
Like true grit like a magnificent statue
***** long standing and very fine.
Across ploughed earth on the horizon
Across vale, parks and the hedge row
On dry sand on the beaches
and on the British lawn that we mow.
They wave their orange heads
we're here and nowhere we shall go
Because we are here to stay; the Poppy
Scatter their seeds and we shall sow.
Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 1:18 PM UTC
Winged messengers
of the brain
ever in motion
never in chain
bombarding marauders
of the night
sneaking invaders
of the quiet
Aug 9, 2017
Aug 9, 2017 at 9:22 AM UTC
Let go of those old fears
That have somehow battled through the trenches of time
You've fought gruesome wars at night
For so many kaleidoscope years
Laying awake with the noise outside your pane
As the only tune to your madness
The civilian lives lost
The once-spirited homes burned to rubble
All to conquer the infantry of bombarding thoughts
That have emerged victorious for ages at the first light of the sun
A daring blow must be delivered to such malice
The respirating breath of triumph
Must grace the muggy walls of your lungs
That sunrise must burn the awakening
Of all your ambitions and conquests
And you can rise from your slumber just nigh of death
As a warrior who will flatten what monstrous fights now may come
And when the moon shows his face
And the stars light his eternal shadow
You can step out into the wild
Adorned in the fruits of your courage
Let go of those old fears
That have somehow battled through the trenches of time
May 9, 2016
May 9, 2016 at 8:07 PM UTC
Quaint 'heart-shaped' design home that is 'rent-to-own' by owner
Due to recent storms, much needed repairs are required
Attached is a detailed list of the damages, that if you so choose
the owner will lower the price if you decided to move in sooner
The roof was initially damaged as lightning suddenly struck
blindsided by her sudden change of attitude
The windows were then busted in as the winds picked up
bombarding me with questions on false premise
Not soon after, the rains poured in, leaving the carpets a-muck
words that soak into the skin, leaving me miserable
And as the rains came down, so started the hail against the cruck
pounding relentlessly as the mind started cracking
While the walls were being soaked the wallpaper began to free
revealing the internal problems to those who knew
Then, with a final gust, it knocked down the steadfast tree
crashing through the walls, exposing myself to you
And as the calmness set in, it was clear the damage done to me
set a smile upon her face as she traveled away
If you assist the owner in the repair of this 'Heart-house', he may allow you to step in
and provide input on how you think this heart should heal with you in it.
Immediate response is required. Call the number attached for more info if you desire.
Jul 23, 2011
Jul 23, 2011 at 6:02 AM UTC
Whispering winds, rustle weeping willows,
were the corpses, and sorrow lie.
Winding beaten roads,
broke from the artery of cluttered existence.
Landing me in what reality?
Rattling minds, in longing whoa
anamnesis, horror,love denied.
Skeletons emerge,
of the forgotten foes, and mystic secrets
the world sought not to see.
Clustered hoards galloping to their doom.
Essence ripped away, by cloven hoof.
Relevant ramble from a vagrant drunken stooge.
Whisk away by the dramatic exchange of a loon.
Echoing memories bombarding the senses.
Landing me in what reality?
Echoing voices carried through hallways
were sorrow, and corpses lie.
Jul 24, 2017
Jul 24, 2017 at 3:42 PM UTC
Why should i be
You're not even mine.
Or are we just waiting
for that moment in time?
The jealousy kicks in
when you're with others
When you're around him.
i feel the rage begin.
one moment he passes
He sways you away
My oxygen in this toxic atmosphere
I die
Bombarding you with his sweet strong words,
I cannot help but break inside
this is a curse
Let me tell you this,
I may not be as poetic as he is
In his vocabulary
I cannot compete.
Im desperately trying
To find the right words, words that fit.
I hope you can see, my queen, my elite.
i dont want to lose you
Im afraid i might lose you
My territorial side weakens
What am i compared to him?
I'm just a hopeless romantic.
Sometimes i wonder
The cause of all this
Is that im falling for the most unexpected; the most dangerous love
And the worst part is
i cannot stop.
Sep 7, 2014
Sep 7, 2014 at 4:48 AM UTC
Ever so welcome beads of rain dance against my face as I run. Faster and faster, until I no longer hear your footsteps.
I look back for you through the trees.
My eyes darting frantically amongst the green wonderland of leaves.
I stop and remove the drenched hair slapped against my check.
Trying to calm my breath, I listen.
All I hear are heavy rain drops bombarding the earth.
Then, "C
R S
A N
C A
K P"
The thunder yells and we both scream.
Out you fly... eyes wide with excitement.
Together we rip through the trees as the wind and warm run carries us.
I feel your eyes upon me.
I already know what you're thinking.
I extend my arm as you grab my hands.
We share a stare,
I see a reflection of the adrenaline rush.
Giggling innocently we run as fast as our feet can carry us.
Our arms extended,
Our shirts rustling in the wind,
We are one with mother nature.
We are her daughters,
She binds us.
You will always be my sister.
May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 3:56 PM UTC
The president says that we should be happy?
He brought us to the brink of war
And then he lied about the reasons.
Of course, we have seen that before.
Lies, lies, again and again…
He thinks he can legitimize
His actions by bombarding us
With lies, lies, and even more lies.
Fifteen thousand four hundred
False claims from the lying pro.
But you have to keep in mind
That that was more than a month ago!
Now he's lying about Iran.
He says he has a better feel
For how to apply maximum pressure--
Better than the nuclear deal.
Abandoning the agreement that
Was working clearly made no sense.
Trump prefers to provoke Iran.
Diplomacy is a better defense.
Diplomacy means "weakness" to Trump.
He would rather pound his chest
And act as though he knows what he's doing.
Tell me: is the man possessed?
Lies, lies, again and again…
How can anyone not despise
A leader who defames our country
With lies, lies, and even more lies.
-by Bob B (1-9-20)
Jan 9, 2020
Jan 9, 2020 at 11:38 AM UTC