"bombardment" poems
"--you know, I've either had a family, a job, something
has always been in the
way
but now
I've sold my house, I've found this
place, a large studio, you should see the space and
the light.
for the first time in my life I'm going to have a place and
the time to
create."
no baby, if you're going to create
you're going to create whether you work
16 hours a day in a coal mine
or
you're going to create in a small room with 3 children
while you're on
welfare,
you're going to create with part of your mind and your
body blown
away,
you're going to create blind
crippled
demented,
you're going to create with a cat crawling up your
back while
the whole city trembles in earthquakes, bombardment,
flood and fire.
baby, air and light and time and space
have nothing to do with it
and don't create anything
except maybe a longer life to find
new excuses
for.
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QUIVER ALL-MAXIMIZING
SAMUEL DAVID <[email protected]>
3:38 AM (56 minutes ago)
to Daniel
SOAR OWNERSHIP
/ UTTERANCES OUTLABOURED PILGRIMS/
By the creditor at cyprus and on other grounds:
The counter-cedar Venice much unparalleled ever pursuant kindly indigenous street streams far above strange beneath the string ...' Dream castle before the 'Requiring much quill 'Peanut lieutenant great ones of the machinery citation / Worth pillow following purposes invasion with a rainfall bombardment epistle the pearl earning era: Closet by sessions pursue arithmetician diaries ' anchor calculus cumulative arrows propellant / Squadron in the field-refueling ' division visions ...' Upswing within the meaning axle conversion processes proofs / ' Electron icons ' Creation wireless reticence circles: Moon ship's amnesty crest reckon 'flaskbone SpurZebra...' Preferment goes by relieves and affectionate 'Oil The Self-graduation Outpouring / Vagrant above ant strides : Rodrigo peculiar ends demonstration/ Forego the-Outward acclimation : Upon all civility citizenry civil-rises other low less losses below yonder / Phrase of prose -possessions cuss ion syn chronicutensils 'asylum systems beyond stems : Preeminence blown 'being ht-thence quarries hijack travels history/Wherein of plant hours ' spicily spoke ***** Pilgrimage dilutes noble companies 'ago-maximize promptly alacrity; Exhibition the underrating besought levels- of quarry / burden oxidation immune slaughter
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Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 7:44 AM UTC
Recall when you feel
of course you don't
don't mean to interrupt
it sometimes makes me forget
when the nights have been so numb
you don't even remember routine
a vicious cycle of not remembering
when even vicious is not visceral.
Person per person
Have told me their ruts
It takes time to get out
For me, fruitless yells of 'get out.'
Instead of ruminating, you stew
Instead of contemplation, you fester
Instead of crescendo, you ******
Through hoops of negative feedback loops.
You sink until beyond your point of bearing
Every cell in your body becomes saturated
with pale thoughts that make the water dry
so dry, you become breathless of a different kind.
Except it is known well, and only you know
you hide it, because these thoughts crave isolation
don't show among people so they won't be affected
but its because these thoughts know you're far worse
You can't function during nights
yet it still knows how to engineer
the perfect circumstance to keep descending
to that nadir which has no bottom.
People make you sick
Things once enjoyed, tire and bore you
Ideologies are far away on a plane
You could never catch
Because the fever you caught
Makes you see the ends
Don't justify the means
It all seems so pointless.
bombardment, attrition, unrelenting.
And for once, you are granted a small reprieve.
The morning hungover from intense thoughts
Happy that for once
I don't despair to just be.
Aug 16, 2014
Aug 16, 2014 at 6:43 PM UTC
Venus sighs.
a camera on your own life
a camera in every room
following your daily routines
from dus(t) until Dawn
your apps have cameras
so you can update your day
like you update your software;
you update your Instagram
The noose tightens.
reality Game
no escape from the fly eggs
grubs in your routine
stitches on your day
you can’t look away or put it down
bombardment;
the reality game show re-union special
happens every time you look down
old reality recap episodes on loop in your head,
etc., etc.
Venus died
and you didn't even tweet about it.
Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 8:32 PM UTC
Oh this feeling of utter alienation
This endless road trip without a destination
Trapped inside this metal monstrosity of a car
I feel like we haven't made it very far
Constantly around the same round about
Enshrouded in fog made of doubt
I'm endlessly confined
Within the labyrinth of my mind
Shifting corridors, dark spaces
Constant bombardment of familiar faces
I gaze out the tinted windows
And try and figure what no one knows
To try and bypass the security of my brain
To do so and remain sane
To see what cannot be seen
To tap into the source of inspiration
Feb 20, 2012
Feb 20, 2012 at 10:04 PM UTC
how does a dreamcatcher know which
dreams to catch?
what if it
swallows the good ones
and sneaks them off to another
reality?
what if it
holds the bad hostage
to share at the most dreadful
time?
what is time to a dream?
but just look at how it twists
and ties itself in knots so
beautifully
a community of individuality
cinching simplicity together to form
brilliance
a spiderweb of spirit trapped between threads
strung tight like the ties of
fate
showing me reality
far beyond
what we blindly
see
inspiration
appreciation
absorbing the vibes reflecting off
questions of whether a second
is time to a dream?
unrecognized reality
mind outside of body
sensory
overload
a breath of fresh
light
a taste of foreign
thoughts
the touch of a
music note
and a vision of
love
trickling quiet
tears down the
face of
time...to a dream
truth
can dance on the
edge of reality
so when i wake up screaming open my eyes and
see
my mind momentarily remains
tangled in a realm of
reality once removed
feathers floating softly
through worlds yet to be
unfurled
but shadows through breezy windows left ajar
blow my thoughts back to
now
and the sounds
and sliences
and the colors
and expressions
of my mind
are altered
by a bombardment
of influences
out of control
reality
can be difficult to
embrace
now and
again
we must
escape
to a dream
to contemplate the
impossibly
intertwined strings of
eternity
that
spiral
through
and through
tossing and
turning new leaves
as the seasons cycle
time remains immeasurable
lest by our mere
thoughts and ideas
so we
create
a geometrically
stunning display
of unspoken hope
to catch
a dream
and it hangs by the window
and if the
truth
teetering on a tightrope
between worlds
could speak it
would tell of
endless
possible
imagination
where
dreams
are
reality
and there is
no such thing as
time
Jan 17, 2013
Jan 17, 2013 at 5:21 AM UTC
We are free like a tree in the valley with nothing to see but pesticide dreams.
If you were free, what you speak wouldn't end with prosecution.
If you were free, you wouldn't be dumbing down your senses with alcohol pollution
When nature provides more than enough to lift you as a clear solution.
If you were free, the green pieces of paper would be "My notes",
and not "Federal Reserve Notes" that we owe interest back to.
If you were free, then the walls of the matrix we could crack through.
If you were free, you would be able to choose who could lead your country,
Instead of falsely participating in which dictator puppet reigns supreme in the best interests of the Rich and powerful gaining land resources and money.
If you were free, you wouldn't be on your knees bobbleheading at all the media tells you.
If you were free, you would not accept any leader who actively kills the innocent, and does not say Why, or even show proof.
If you were free, you would stand up, for what's morally right.
If you were free you would look at those in your peripheral
and join them rather than work against in spite.
If you were free, we could actually pride ourselves for being a country all about freedom.
If you were free, you would say NO to RFID chips, already being used on middle and high school kids in Texas, numb, to what is free.
I can't free you, you must free yourself and wake up to the mirage and bombardment of lies Raining down our existence.
If you were free, you would be a threat, everything they don't want.
It's everything we need, with persistence.
Let go of the fear of fear.
When that time comes, just as a flower becomes unfurled,
There will be a triumph for all that's good in the world.
Open your mind, stop the chatter, and wake up. Free Yourself
Sep 5, 2012
Sep 5, 2012 at 3:15 AM UTC
Eulogising was a challenge
under constant bombardment
from falling masonry.
But the gathered crowd deserved the effort.
There was Honest Bob,
whose cut-price bricks
had won the tender
and built the edifice behind us.
Slick **** the concrete king
fresh from an industrial tribunal
and ready to pay tribute.
Fat Larry, the glass magnate,
dodging the shrapnel
from his wind-shattered panes,
just like the rest of us.
I raised my voice
amidst the crash and crumble
to praise the architect.
There were those who had forgotten
the terrible designs
that had been *******
by her dogged determination,
Her clarity of vision
(here, I was interrupted
by three roof-tiles in succession,
smashing at my feet),
her strength of purpose
(nine bricks and a length of plastic guttering)
and her shining conviction.
But here, in the shadow of the teetering mass,
we could all acknowledge
her unforgettable legacy
with pride and gratitude.
Champagne, truffles,
and off we all went,
helicoptered to who knew where
happily leaving others
to clear up the mess.
Apr 14, 2013
Apr 14, 2013 at 5:14 AM UTC
I wonder what the world holds in store for me
The sky is the limit but who knows
Seems like the world has it in for me
Growing up, the world has produced a lot of enemies
I've been pushed to the limit
I wonder why
Its because I'm the nice guy
Who always tries to please
I wonder if someone would do the same for me
Going the distance to lend a helping hand
Giving good advice when no one else can
I wonder is there anyone true
Probably not
Because the way things are going
It's gonna be a dog eat dog world
Survival of the fittest
I wonder, will I make it?
Still, I'm undergoing training
I just wonder
Will the earth withstand bombardment
Shrapnel and fire
Murderous intentions
With some of the sickest desires
Is the end around the corner
I wonder
By using faith and prayer
Will it save us, I hope cause
We all took a dive into sin
I wonder, can we all be cleansed
I say that because some people are pure evil
Hatred has consumed them
I wonder
Where did peace go
I guess it fell up under war
It was stomped out by the people
Who is looking for a score
I wonder did it ever have a chance
All I can do is wonder
-V.v.V. Ds
Sep 5, 2014
Sep 5, 2014 at 12:04 AM UTC
~
*First we close our eyes
Then we build a cloud
From the late heavy bombardment
A thermodynamic love, this
Like Chinese lanterns
In weightless ecstasy
Aloft from the surface of our sea of rains
--Marriage chords:
Thatness and thereness
Trust and remembrance
Learning to breathe without lungs
Learning to speak without words
It feels not so much like soaring through
Clouds as being made one with them*
~
Oct 20, 2023
Oct 20, 2023 at 10:11 AM UTC
What is boredom but subjectivity,
Always viral conductivity
From one and two and here and there
A way of ratifying one's personal cares.
Likes, dislikes, attractions, distractions,
Formulative thoughts and rash reactions,
Bombardment of character and theatrical woes,
And no one can say from where it comes or goes.
A view from behind the pill of bitter estrangement,
Lenses and visions of complicated derangements,
Better or worse, one subjects his collusions
With the darker abstracts of critical confusion.
So what is boredom but a lack of reason,
A hiding place behind a suspension of disbelief,
What is boredom but a condition of pondering the lack of what's to ponder,
Construction of illness rather than intellectual relief?
Jan 14, 2013
Jan 14, 2013 at 3:29 PM UTC
All I feel is pain
sadness and hurt.
With a slight tone of positivity
Love ever so present
like a distant dim light in the dark.
Gestures of good will
either harvested with selfish intentions.
Like putting coins in a slotmachine
to hit the Karma jackpot.
Or genuine kindness.
Mass produced negativity
running rampant across the globe
fits the current type of mankind
like a perfect silk glove.
I feel the wind crying,
poisoned and sick.
Clouds ***** acidic rain
every drop a bombardment
infused with a chemical mix.
I feel the sunlight trying to escape the earth
but the clouds are moody
representing the mental sickness
of the guests under their roofs.
There is no escape once you land
on this manmade Mental Asylum.
I am scarred by kids with knives
young unpure love that is quickly crushed.
Only a handfull experience a lifetime of love.
Earth is sick, being gutted alive
stripped barren and bombarded
with it's own body used as weapons
that have turned against their Host.
Me and all my friends know.
For we are tree's, our bark is thick
protecting our rooted Souls
in the deep slick soil.
Connected with Earth
we feel everything that it endures.
And it hurts..
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 6:05 PM UTC
SEE, how in their eyes nightmares
live
how in their minds frustration builds the nest
in their misfortunes, life can't unfold its wings
Dec 5, 2023
Dec 5, 2023 at 10:37 PM UTC
Innocently enough, I found the kerfuffle of fluff bunched up in my knuckles because,
I never punch an innocent man twice.
Now take the spice out of the words, 'Hey, I'm a nice guy,'
And you'll have a half-truth that will trick yet still suffice;
I test my pick-up lines on mice and rats like the most esteemed of scientists,
Who engineered the difference between maize and rice using language as their disguise
I languish in this life.
I deal too much in the technical's and it leads to awkward strife,
Inside my mind.
I notice the fact that I think,
And watch the fact that I see,
And, for some reason, become ungrateful that my site
Isn't 360 degrees.
It is in my dreams.
I also seem to ask myself the question far too often;
"Are you sure you're living yet? Are you sure you're alive yet?"
Because I seem to forget that yet implies before and after;
And I stave off the potential for my mind to become some sort of existential disaster;
Nothing has changed about me biologically for 3 or so years,
Yet with the constant bombardment of scientific, philosophical, and existential food for thought
I seem to notice now
More than ever
My mortality.
And it's not just my mortality,
I ask, "What IS reality?"
And the slight lack of focus in my eyes makes me ask in framed legality,
"What is this actuality?"
And I lose sight that all humanity
Serves the same such similar circumstances,
With the 5 senses imperfections
And I'm sure that most of us are quite insane.
Please, don't abstain from braving existential terrain,
It will help you to obtain
The fact
That life is such a mystery,
And it's best to work with mystery,
In transcendental synergy,
Because suddenly humanity
Is null and void.
I write this true to mind:
These are the thoughts that float through mine,
And keep me sleepless time-to-time
Or keep me feeling like I'm sleeping,
As the thoughts keep me confined
On occasion.
Yet sometimes I do awaken
And feel myself a direct part of the reality I've forsaken,
Over-thinking,
With the labels that our minds have been creating,
Since the dawn of humankind and man-made time.
Oct 24, 2011
Oct 24, 2011 at 3:38 PM UTC
Bling
Bling
...
Bling
The bombardment of messages was deafening
Every new message pounded at my head
As I wore a pillow over my head, protecting
Bling
My eyes closed shut as my body shook
Rage started to brew, but
I knew better than to look
At the betraying notifications, this much was true
Bling
Overwhelmed,
desperate,
frustrated,
disappointed
Bling
"Patterns seemingly can't be broken"
Were some of the last thoughts on my brain
As I fell into a deep sleep in a sea of tears
Bling
Nov 24, 2020
Nov 24, 2020 at 10:23 PM UTC
Bring on the media bombardment
of personality based self-help
groups and
get connected to the electricity,
eye meditating, colorful journey.
A ****** cliche and innuendo
to repress your inquisitiveness.
Responsible figures on the Black show;
White ***** on the other.
© S. Wesley Mcgranor
Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 5:02 PM UTC
We **** by pushing a button.
WE DIE RUNNING FOR COVER.
We are fighting for our country.
WE ARE FIGHTING FOR A COUNTRY
Our sons fear deployment.
OUR CHILDREN FEAR BOMBARDMENT.
We bury our dead in the national cemetery.
WE DISCOVERED A MASS GRAVE.
Our war is raising the national deficit.
OUR MARKETS HAVE NO FOOD FOR SALE.
We proudly display our flag.
WE'VE BEEN ARRESTED FOR DISPLAYING OUR FLAG.
Our mothers grieve for their sons.
OUR PEOPLE GRIEVE FOR THEIR VILLAGES.
When will our soldiers return?
I WATCHED MY HOUSE BURN.
Our son came home in a coffin on a plane.
WE BURIED A PIECE OF FLESH THAT WE GAVE A NAME.
We saluted the soldiers marching in uniform.
OUR SOLDIERS DRESS LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE.
We carefully weighed the costs and benefits.
WE DECIDED THERE WAS NOTHING TO LOSE.
Oct 22, 2016
Oct 22, 2016 at 8:43 PM UTC
Six String Theory
tachyons protons neutrons galore
theoretical bombardment of mystical thought
jazzy country twisted rock knocking at my door
bending string blister melody sought
uptempo slowed down bugs bunny hop
octavial flated fifths and tones augmented
temperatures rising and I can't stop
missing musical chair sadly lamented
quick step spanish flamenco dancing feet
growling woofers and screaming tweeters
employing Lester's capo and magic wand
burned rubber top down blowing two seaters
it matters not how you stroke it
turn the preamp clockwise to 8 point 5 deary
power chords belly flopping your wammy bar
close your eyes and dream a six string theory
Gomer LePoet....
Mar 28, 2013
Mar 28, 2013 at 3:09 PM UTC
valiantly,
the Ship Fought.
many Days,
she took a pounding
her mighty Hull bracing;
against unforgiving Seas
her thick Armour;
withstanding Bombardment.
the first great Wave
knocked a Rivet loose,
a Steel Plate dented
by the first big Bomb
she didn't Shoot back
ever hoping for peaceful resolve
but the Seas and the Bombs
all took their toll!
the first 3 enemy Ships
packed their Punch
but she stood firm
armour deflecting every Bomb
but the Sea grew Dark;
the very Water
that held her aloft
now threatened her very Existence!
the Sea destroyed Rivets
The Bombs dented armour
and slowly but surely
she took on Water
for it is the small Rivets that hold a Ship together;
small rivets that Bind Metal Plates
and when the Rivets fail
the Ship is lost!
Noble Captain stood on deck
the death of His Ship
a mathematical Certainty
again and again the 3 locust ships fired
again and again the Sea pounded
the Evacuation order needs to come soon
only the Captain to remain with a final solemn Duty
for a captain goes down with his ship
when all others are safe.
the Sea will calm down
the 3 will stop firing
once the Bow of the Ship
slips beneath the Waves
the Charges set,
ready to blow,
scuttle the ship -
Down she will go
Captain salutes Her
a fine Ship she's been
as he presses his Pistol
to his temple
right finger on the trigger
the left on the bomb's fuse,
A solitary tear,
3,2,1...
Aug 1, 2014
Aug 1, 2014 at 9:13 PM UTC
O Palestine
My Palestine,
Open your eyes
You need to reply all
in the language of bullets
In a voice full of hatred
I saw Israeli bombardment overnight.
Burning human civilization all around
The curse of our souls is upon
those who are engrossed
in destruction.
Those who take away our abode.
O Holy Mosque Al-Aqsa,
You are the essence of our existence
I swear by my Lord that
I will never allow this
holy place of yours to be defiled.
Where is my brother
Arab non-Arab
Qatar
Kuwait
and the King of Saudi Arabia
Who are holding the flag of Islam?
Who are contained an ancient heritage.
O brother
Are you engaged in oiling their palms ?
Now we want unity.
And there is no alternative to unity.
I hate all airstrikes
Bullets are falling from unseen dark
O Palestine
My Palestine,
When will you sleep unduly?
We are waiting for the good day.
May 16, 2021
May 16, 2021 at 3:32 AM UTC
Despite the right to spite the far away
Of only what I know is nothing as a word
Only what I know is everything as a meaning
******** **** in this early morn
******** love of that metal music
ENOUGH OF THIS (will make you crazy)
Heterosinea contractual echinacea of aviary actual sack attack
ATTACKING SACK INSIDE A RACK O' FLACK
FLACK BOMbardment of horse willed ensnarement
Wiley wicker writhing in illness
Loose found youtube through fool rude nudes
Useful contraptions trap attraction for creative adoration and many more "things"
Mar 12, 2014
Mar 12, 2014 at 9:26 AM UTC
Six String Theory
tachyons protons neutrons galore
theoretical bombardment of mystical thought
jazzy country twisted rock knocking at my door
bending string blister melody sought
uptempo slowed down bugs bunny hop
octavial flated fifths and tones augmented
temperatures rising and I can't stop
missing musical chair sadly lamented
quick step spanish flamenco dancing feet
growling woofers and screaming tweeters
employing Lester's capo and magic wand
burned rubber top down blowing two seaters
it matters not how you stroke it
turn the preamp clockwise to 8 point 5 deary
power chords belly flopping your wammy bar
close your eyes and dream a six string theory
Gomer LePoet....
Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 2:22 PM UTC
On a moonlit night on a deserted beach
these ocean wonders destination have reached
they come ashore in hundreds strong
to lay their eggs where they were born
lumbering slowly through fine sand
on this tropical beach in a distant land
deposited with care, buried entombed
growing in darkness for many a moon.
When they hatch to the surface they will have to fight
the dash to the sea will not be the end of their plight
gulls wait on the buffering sea breeze looking for earth sign
as lizards petrol the coast for they also want their fill and dine
In a miracle of nature most hatch together
little legs bounding this gauntlet hell to leather
with the relentless bombardment from the air
and ravenous reptilian foes almost everywhere.
Many will die on their first fatal day
yet some will cheat death and get away
good luck dear turtles
I will remember thee
to home dear turtles
your domain the Sea.
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 8:17 AM UTC
there is no way to win in a world that is male dominated.
I have taken years to fully appreciate my body. It was not something that came naturally to me,
especially with an over critical mom
constantly concerned with my health and how I presented myself and my body.
now, in a period of rebirth,
I have found it upon myself to be able to look in the mirror
and appreciate how my *** is no longer flat,
or how my collarbones poke out underneath my neck
I snap a photo, and share it on social media.
the flood of insults and suggestions drown me until I am drowning in a sea of my own tears
"You should put on more clothes. No one wants to see that"
"you leave no mystery to a man. how disgusting"
"you are pretty in the photos where you are fully clothed. why do you feel the need to show off your ***
At 16, I have learned that what I wear is not up to me.
what I wear impacts other's lives,
the half of an inch of polyester cloth
that separates my beautiful and natural body from the eyes of the rest of the world
is so crucial to be fully covering the nape of my neck,
my shoulders,
my entire stomach,
all the way past my knees
and to my ankles
so that I am locked in a prison of cotton transformed into a shirt
because heaven forbid that .5 inches of thin yet protective cloth
hangs slightly lower than the nape of my neck,
revealing that I am in fact a girl.
the constant bombardment of men
telling me I should cover up my chest and ***
makes me feel as though I am property,
that by choosing my own clothes,
I am somehow offending and threatening their existence
why is it
that when men are gazing at the naked body of a woman
for their own personal pleasure
it's ok?
but as soon as I
want to celebrate my beautiful and curvy body
men instantly become repulsed with the idea that I am not
a ball of various fabrics and turtle necks
and instead a natural woman
who isn't afraid
to show a little skin.
May 29, 2017
May 29, 2017 at 10:54 PM UTC