"breeding" poems - Hello Poetry

everyone has Their own magic There is no death so nothing matters High Style Flash & forgive me high button shoes clean arrangement messy breeding love’s triumph everlasting hope & fulfillment

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12.6k

Jim Morrison

Ode - New York Maidens

everyone has Their own magic There is no death so nothing matters High Style Flash & forgive me high button shoes clean arrangement messy breeding love’s triumph everlasting hope & fulfillment

10

Polished and refined, With death I have found A life below ground A place I can call mine Destruction and evil deeds A breeding of pure hate Is all that I can create Out of all these heartless seeds I punch them in To the deep sullen dirt Water them with vengeance And a sprinkling of hurt Tonight is the night I find what dwells below I don't have a key But I can bargain with my soul As I place it into these seeds I am but reeds in the grass I'm letting go Only Heaven knows The blackness of Hell's wrath I plant my lifeless soul in this plot To groom it as it grows So slowly that nobody knows It's the place the devil goes to rot Watered with tears, warmed with fire And as time stands still, never changing This fruition of evil continues growing Until the depths of hell can go no higher Then it will bloom A flowering gloom Growing out of control The ground will harden In this here garden Fertilized by my soul

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Sep 1, 2016

Sep 1, 2016 at 4:53 PM UTC

JustMelz

Growing Evil ~~~ Collaboration with DaSH ❤

Polished and refined, With death I have found A life below ground A place I can call mine Destruction and evil deeds A breeding of pure hate Is all that I can create Out of all these heartless seeds I punch them in To the deep sullen dirt Water them with vengeance And a sprinkling of hurt Tonight is the night I find what dwells below I don't have a key But I can bargain with my soul As I place it into these seeds I am but reeds in the grass I'm letting go Only Heaven knows The blackness of Hell's wrath I plant my lifeless soul in this plot To groom it as it grows So slowly that nobody knows It's the place the devil goes to rot Watered with tears, warmed with fire And as time stands still, never changing This fruition of evil continues growing Until the depths of hell can go no higher Then it will bloom A flowering gloom Growing out of control The ground will harden In this here garden Fertilized by my soul

35

I was with the ocean last night and your body Was its vessel, overflowing. Words were frail, Drops indwelling about the shapeless sky, Water reaching for its own height and breath, Like touch, were as desperate letters exchanged, Endlessly read, until like loamy vellums, they Disappeared in our hands. Inklings of tide- Pool and driftwood. My blood was a river that ran Its course. Members feeding your deltas and birds Breeding where the water-russet sheds on pampas And inverness. Eyes like wing through ever— Green, empties the fossil shell. Fire, brimming Mountaintops that were, for countless millennia, Sleeping. Did I mention that the earth moved? No? Her displacement was involuntary. Then came the waterfalls, lifting throughout Time. The scent, searching for its identity, The wave, calling to its own name— Ocean, O— cean. And flowers, opening like galaxies In the after-light. A universe of face and hand With hunger for salt-rain and then the cloud Burst-blue and spilt and spun more redolent, Deities, in joyous creation. I breathe, in your ocean, like a child unborn.

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Jul 3, 2012

Jul 3, 2012 at 7:30 PM UTC

ormond

Ocean

I was with the ocean last night and your body Was its vessel, overflowing. Words were frail, Drops indwelling about the shapeless sky, Water reaching for its own height and breath, Like touch, were as desperate letters exchanged, Endlessly read, until like loamy vellums, they Disappeared in our hands. Inklings of tide- Pool and driftwood. My blood was a river that ran Its course. Members feeding your deltas and birds Breeding where the water-russet sheds on pampas And inverness. Eyes like wing through ever— Green, empties the fossil shell. Fire, brimming Mountaintops that were, for countless millennia, Sleeping. Did I mention that the earth moved? No? Her displacement was involuntary. Then came the waterfalls, lifting throughout Time. The scent, searching for its identity, The wave, calling to its own name— Ocean, O— cean. And flowers, opening like galaxies In the after-light. A universe of face and hand With hunger for salt-rain and then the cloud Burst-blue and spilt and spun more redolent, Deities, in joyous creation. I breathe, in your ocean, like a child unborn.

25

I Is the total black, being spoken From the earth's inside. There are many kinds of open. How a diamond comes into a knot of flame How a sound comes into a word, coloured By who pays what for speaking. Some words are open Like a diamond on glass windows Singing out within the crash of passing sun Then there are words like stapled wagers In a perforated book-buy and sign and tear apart- And come whatever wills all chances The stub remains An ill-pulled tooth with a ragged edge. Some words live in my throat Breeding like adders. Others know sun Seeking like gypsies over my tongue To explode through my lips Like young sparrows bursting from shell. Some words Bedevil me. Love is a word another kind of open- As a diamond comes into a knot of flame I am black because I come from the earth's inside Take my word for jewel in your open light.

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8.6k

Audre Lorde

Coal

I Is the total black, being spoken From the earth's inside. There are many kinds of open. How a diamond comes into a knot of flame How a sound comes into a word, coloured By who pays what for speaking. Some words are open Like a diamond on glass windows Singing out within the crash of passing sun Then there are words like stapled wagers In a perforated book-buy and sign and tear apart- And come whatever wills all chances The stub remains An ill-pulled tooth with a ragged edge. Some words live in my throat Breeding like adders. Others know sun Seeking like gypsies over my tongue To explode through my lips Like young sparrows bursting from shell. Some words Bedevil me. Love is a word another kind of open- As a diamond comes into a knot of flame I am black because I come from the earth's inside Take my word for jewel in your open light.

26

In my pursuit of a higher education I am now starting to study the process of human decomposition And how strange we all rot away like road **** and plant vegetation. I see the word Casper and my memory takes me back to when I was a child Remembering he was a sad and lonely invisible cartoon character. I am now reading it is a proven scientific law, that after you pass And you give up your ghost, your body then becomes A breeding ground and you are the decaying host. Trying to hide the evidence you’re now digging a shallow grave Don’t do that because it takes eight times longer Thinking about submerging in water? Yes, it’s a little quicker But if someone did you seriously wrong and unfair The quickest way to decompose them is, Just leave them hiding under some brush and in the summer open air So then the flies, insects and bee's’ can make a home in their hair. Sir Isaac Newton told the world how gravity should behave And now a modern man proved it is no longer so I can see now, Newton is raging hard and deep inside his grave. I have not a single fear the only thing that scares me is, I know without any doubt now that I am insanely brave Trust me I’ll drag your corpse also and hide it in my make shift grave. I’m out on a night prowl to change Casper’s law And prove to you all that it was really only just a theory Reading books about death gives me a thrill, Better pray and hope I don’t someday become terminally ill Everything I do stems from my madness and with it, Premeditated thoughts and also a great conspiracy. (SirCARSr. 3-2-2013)

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Mar 3, 2013

Mar 3, 2013 at 5:05 PM UTC

curt-a-rivard-sr

Casper’s Law of Decomposition

In my pursuit of a higher education I am now starting to study the process of human decomposition And how strange we all rot away like road **** and plant vegetation. I see the word Casper and my memory takes me back to when I was a child Remembering he was a sad and lonely invisible cartoon character. I am now reading it is a proven scientific law, that after you pass And you give up your ghost, your body then becomes A breeding ground and you are the decaying host. Trying to hide the evidence you’re now digging a shallow grave Don’t do that because it takes eight times longer Thinking about submerging in water? Yes, it’s a little quicker But if someone did you seriously wrong and unfair The quickest way to decompose them is, Just leave them hiding under some brush and in the summer open air So then the flies, insects and bee's’ can make a home in their hair. Sir Isaac Newton told the world how gravity should behave And now a modern man proved it is no longer so I can see now, Newton is raging hard and deep inside his grave. I have not a single fear the only thing that scares me is, I know without any doubt now that I am insanely brave Trust me I’ll drag your corpse also and hide it in my make shift grave. I’m out on a night prowl to change Casper’s law And prove to you all that it was really only just a theory Reading books about death gives me a thrill, Better pray and hope I don’t someday become terminally ill Everything I do stems from my madness and with it, Premeditated thoughts and also a great conspiracy. (SirCARSr. 3-2-2013)

28

I wonder how a rhododendron smells. Such a lovely word should have a scent To match, but words keep secrets the object tells; What fragrance could this flower represent? I've smelled my share of flowers, sweet and sour: Roses for rapture, Chrysanthemums for trust, Daisies for friendship with magic healing power, Rue for unrequited, and lilies for lust. I'd like to make a newer scent by breeding Flowers with all the traits I love the best. My unconditional tulip has been pleading For a sweeter scent than all the rest. Your love has such a scent my love can blend on Sweet enough to smell like Rhododendrons.

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Jan 2, 2012

Jan 2, 2012 at 10:27 PM UTC

skeptic-tank

Sonnet About Love and Flowers #77,232.

I wonder how a rhododendron smells. Such a lovely word should have a scent To match, but words keep secrets the object tells; What fragrance could this flower represent? I've smelled my share of flowers, sweet and sour: Roses for rapture, Chrysanthemums for trust, Daisies for friendship with magic healing power, Rue for unrequited, and lilies for lust. I'd like to make a newer scent by breeding Flowers with all the traits I love the best. My unconditional tulip has been pleading For a sweeter scent than all the rest. Your love has such a scent my love can blend on Sweet enough to smell like Rhododendrons.

14

How do you explain that your bones are the coal used as breeding ground for a fire? How do you explain that there's a fire raging inside of you, setting every inch of your body and thoughts ablaze? Like a wildfire destroys the forest, this pain is knocking me down and smoldering me. But how can you say you're in ashes when your body is unbruised? No collapsed limbs, no heaving lungs, no unconscious mind -only puffy eyes and a tired tongue? How do you explain that the tightness one gets in their throat upon hearing unexpectedly terrible news is a common feeling of yours - a side effect of the blood that runs through all of your veins? That even though you know you can do something, the words 'you physically cannot' are flooding your brain like a drug and poisoning every choice you try to make? How do you explain that every move you make feels like walking on a tightrope that seems to never end. How each step sends a shiver down your spine; trying not to fall, trying to finish the task, trying to stop the anxiety -but you can never reach the end because your destination keeps switching from left to right despite the progress you've made. How do you explain that you're dying when everyone see's you as perfectly alive? NJ2016

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Oct 13, 2016

Oct 13, 2016 at 11:37 PM UTC

nicolejoanne

living with bpd

How do you explain that your bones are the coal used as breeding ground for a fire? How do you explain that there's a fire raging inside of you, setting every inch of your body and thoughts ablaze? Like a wildfire destroys the forest, this pain is knocking me down and smoldering me. But how can you say you're in ashes when your body is unbruised? No collapsed limbs, no heaving lungs, no unconscious mind -only puffy eyes and a tired tongue? How do you explain that the tightness one gets in their throat upon hearing unexpectedly terrible news is a common feeling of yours - a side effect of the blood that runs through all of your veins? That even though you know you can do something, the words 'you physically cannot' are flooding your brain like a drug and poisoning every choice you try to make? How do you explain that every move you make feels like walking on a tightrope that seems to never end. How each step sends a shiver down your spine; trying not to fall, trying to finish the task, trying to stop the anxiety -but you can never reach the end because your destination keeps switching from left to right despite the progress you've made. How do you explain that you're dying when everyone see's you as perfectly alive? NJ2016

7

Underneath the leaves of life, Green on the prodigious tree, In a trance of grief Stand the fallen man and wife: Far away the single stag Banished to a lonely crag Gazes placid out to sea, And from thickets round about Breeding animals look in On Duality, And the birds fly in and out Of the world of man. Down in order from the ridge, Bayonets glittering in the sun, Soldiers who will judge Wind towards the little bridge: Even politicians speak Truths of value to the weak, Necessary acts are done By the ill and the unjust; But the Judgment and the Smile, Though these two-in-one See creation as they must, None shall reconcile. Bordering our middle earth Kingdoms of the Short and Tall, Rivals for our faith, Stir up envy from our birth: So the giant who storms the sky In an angry wish to die Wakes the hero in us all, While the tiny with their power To divide and hide and flee, When our fortunes fall Tempt to a belief in our Immortality. Lovers running each to each Feel such timid dreams catch fire Blazing as they touch, Learn what love alone can teach: Happy on a tousled bed Praise Blake's acumen who said: "One thing only we require Of each other; we must see In another's lineaments Gratified desire"; This is our humanity; Nothing else contents. Nowhere else could I have known Than, beloved, in your eyes What we have to learn, That we love ourselves alone: All our terrors burned away We can learn at last to say: "All our knowledge comes to this, That existence is enough, That in savage solitude Or the play of love Every living creature is Woman, Man, and Child."

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5.9k

W. H. Auden

The Riddle

Underneath the leaves of life, Green on the prodigious tree, In a trance of grief Stand the fallen man and wife: Far away the single stag Banished to a lonely crag Gazes placid out to sea, And from thickets round about Breeding animals look in On Duality, And the birds fly in and out Of the world of man. Down in order from the ridge, Bayonets glittering in the sun, Soldiers who will judge Wind towards the little bridge: Even politicians speak Truths of value to the weak, Necessary acts are done By the ill and the unjust; But the Judgment and the Smile, Though these two-in-one See creation as they must, None shall reconcile. Bordering our middle earth Kingdoms of the Short and Tall, Rivals for our faith, Stir up envy from our birth: So the giant who storms the sky In an angry wish to die Wakes the hero in us all, While the tiny with their power To divide and hide and flee, When our fortunes fall Tempt to a belief in our Immortality. Lovers running each to each Feel such timid dreams catch fire Blazing as they touch, Learn what love alone can teach: Happy on a tousled bed Praise Blake's acumen who said: "One thing only we require Of each other; we must see In another's lineaments Gratified desire"; This is our humanity; Nothing else contents. Nowhere else could I have known Than, beloved, in your eyes What we have to learn, That we love ourselves alone: All our terrors burned away We can learn at last to say: "All our knowledge comes to this, That existence is enough, That in savage solitude Or the play of love Every living creature is Woman, Man, and Child."

60

# *I hadn’t meant to spy just an evening’s walk along the beach knowing that things are sometimes strewn there after storms between a gust of wind—a break in clouds Coming upon moonlight gleaming on wet teenage backs Two— by a leaning erosion fence fondling the last discoveries of childhood fumbling with the barriers of her bikini behind the erosion fence out of sight and forbidding Breeding like sea grass by rhizomes prowling that neck, those ******* Gasping! Warring! for the land of white warmth below their tans His hands grip, lift, position, insist By such undertow mouths and hips pinioned in disbelief... where they cannot be seen two half-rounds in rhythm – struggle in the surge of being as the surf binds them in refrains about the ankles* #

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Mar 25, 2018

Mar 25, 2018 at 9:48 PM UTC

elizabeth-balise

coming upon moonlight

# *I hadn’t meant to spy just an evening’s walk along the beach knowing that things are sometimes strewn there after storms between a gust of wind—a break in clouds Coming upon moonlight gleaming on wet teenage backs Two— by a leaning erosion fence fondling the last discoveries of childhood fumbling with the barriers of her bikini behind the erosion fence out of sight and forbidding Breeding like sea grass by rhizomes prowling that neck, those ******* Gasping! Warring! for the land of white warmth below their tans His hands grip, lift, position, insist By such undertow mouths and hips pinioned in disbelief... where they cannot be seen two half-rounds in rhythm – struggle in the surge of being as the surf binds them in refrains about the ankles* #

23

this makeshift democracy yearning endearing breeding festering aristocracy petrified on the sidelines black hispanic asian european the manifesting minority which built this republic political policy withered to marrow echoes of Washington fade in graves marble halls politicians etches unsheathed to feast in bribery sorts the gleam of monetary value blinded patched pockets burning the fabric to be later devoured

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May 26, 2015

May 26, 2015 at 5:16 PM UTC

decem

Democracy

this makeshift democracy yearning endearing breeding festering aristocracy petrified on the sidelines black hispanic asian european the manifesting minority which built this republic political policy withered to marrow echoes of Washington fade in graves marble halls politicians etches unsheathed to feast in bribery sorts the gleam of monetary value blinded patched pockets burning the fabric to be later devoured

16

maybe I should encourage violence within conformity and seek to end impressionism or maybe NOT!- create perversions within a song split-ting hairs of the long dead being found at a youthful age washed ashore no longer breeding nor bleeding ceased of breathing to be now an exact science- scaled back models of when it was brave to be bold but hidden from news cameras for leftover caveats - I wanna go else-where and find redemption to shout **** you - desktop plants dried out from foul air and aspirin bottles ******** clad in old skin next to a banana peel- no remorse no recourse no answers for in my brain prescribed lies conjunct with irreversible truth complexity.

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Jul 9, 2015

Jul 9, 2015 at 11:44 AM UTC

CLStewart

so it shall be

maybe I should encourage violence within conformity and seek to end impressionism or maybe NOT!- create perversions within a song split-ting hairs of the long dead being found at a youthful age washed ashore no longer breeding nor bleeding ceased of breathing to be now an exact science- scaled back models of when it was brave to be bold but hidden from news cameras for leftover caveats - I wanna go else-where and find redemption to shout **** you - desktop plants dried out from foul air and aspirin bottles ******** clad in old skin next to a banana peel- no remorse no recourse no answers for in my brain prescribed lies conjunct with irreversible truth complexity.

2

Your society Created a Vanity, so ugly it Poisoned punctured and Primed A youth. Self-obsession Attention starved Cruel and mindless inhumans. Smartphones breeding this dumb Generation. Martyrs, On digital crosses. Look at me. Define me. Press "like".

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Nov 6, 2015

Nov 6, 2015 at 10:41 AM UTC

mrmonst3r

Generation

Your society Created a Vanity, so ugly it Poisoned punctured and Primed A youth. Self-obsession Attention starved Cruel and mindless inhumans. Smartphones breeding this dumb Generation. Martyrs, On digital crosses. Look at me. Define me. Press "like".

20

I have left, pig-mudding drunk, having sipped from stock to stock on fraying cheer, stages. I have stood in foreign basements; sweaty cellars of youth; begot by attitude breeding spaces of the hip; drawn circles searching for love in recreating nonsense: a silly pupil, moon-eyed, out of breathe. I have heard them quack, reveal their cords; heard them whisper a thousand and one secrets, heard them deconstruct their circumstances as pilgrims, penniless and sick. I have their memories now, an image of a depressed, ass-imprinted pillow soaked in liquor and a feeling of nausea where ribs sleep on this couch tonight, every night. I have heard one refute the weight of living, ****** on the banks of his best friends hospitality, and thought How much is it worth? And I have envied every **** greasy pored hipster, the ones fixing on makingitnew now kind of clan; stared blankly at fashion, a culture back door where pink fish scales sparkle high from runway halters to the tops of grown men, bearded and chesty. And your mothers pearls sit, not your mother’s pearls but your mother’s, mother’s pearls, that old world clout ornamented around those hairy ******* Oh yes, I have seen men become peacocks, charmed animals of ********** seen them teeth at discourse in the noise they create, wide-mouthed and pointed; I have seen them masked like frantic felines: wooly bully cats trying-to-roll their own meter, their tobacco stained black charcoal over soft bricked lips quiver to their beats: those painted lemmingings, without a parachute: kamikaze felons. I have desired absolute sterility: white china, in the egg of a toilet bowl I spewed out, shut-up my exuberance for the night; sorry-pleaded my resolutions to gag out the naughty nouns in my life. I have quit; turned in my lust for performing the lioness, paw-licking, snarly creature: the predator of my youth, and now, I am pretty-headed, tamed in bath oils and schedules; a spotted fox, in plain view, one medium-sized mammal getting by.

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Feb 3, 2013

Feb 3, 2013 at 5:05 PM UTC

carly-salzberg

From the Barn

I have left, pig-mudding drunk, having sipped from stock to stock on fraying cheer, stages. I have stood in foreign basements; sweaty cellars of youth; begot by attitude breeding spaces of the hip; drawn circles searching for love in recreating nonsense: a silly pupil, moon-eyed, out of breathe. I have heard them quack, reveal their cords; heard them whisper a thousand and one secrets, heard them deconstruct their circumstances as pilgrims, penniless and sick. I have their memories now, an image of a depressed, ass-imprinted pillow soaked in liquor and a feeling of nausea where ribs sleep on this couch tonight, every night. I have heard one refute the weight of living, ****** on the banks of his best friends hospitality, and thought How much is it worth? And I have envied every **** greasy pored hipster, the ones fixing on makingitnew now kind of clan; stared blankly at fashion, a culture back door where pink fish scales sparkle high from runway halters to the tops of grown men, bearded and chesty. And your mothers pearls sit, not your mother’s pearls but your mother’s, mother’s pearls, that old world clout ornamented around those hairy ******* Oh yes, I have seen men become peacocks, charmed animals of ********** seen them teeth at discourse in the noise they create, wide-mouthed and pointed; I have seen them masked like frantic felines: wooly bully cats trying-to-roll their own meter, their tobacco stained black charcoal over soft bricked lips quiver to their beats: those painted lemmingings, without a parachute: kamikaze felons. I have desired absolute sterility: white china, in the egg of a toilet bowl I spewed out, shut-up my exuberance for the night; sorry-pleaded my resolutions to gag out the naughty nouns in my life. I have quit; turned in my lust for performing the lioness, paw-licking, snarly creature: the predator of my youth, and now, I am pretty-headed, tamed in bath oils and schedules; a spotted fox, in plain view, one medium-sized mammal getting by.

33

One with sensation One with feeling One with conscience One with tears The cry soars to the horizon They are killing They are slaughtering They are breeding They are feeding They need the flesh To digest into **** The cruelty within The merciless beyond The ignorance under The indulgence upon The assassin The mass ****** Slaughter and evil A call of an animal A call of a voiceless But a denial A denial of the human race Slaughter for an idea A pitiful act Denial of existence Today I am going vegan Dripped in emotion Dripped in sensation Dripped in acknowledgement Dripped in the knowing The knowing of evolution The evolution of life Of the voiceless The voiceless with life The mercy to be shown But merciless around The acknowledgement within Today i am going vegan Vegan I am For the voice of the voiceless The nature of existence For the truth of the tears The cry and the pain The cruelty for an idea For the civilization of the civilized For the life as a gift it is For respect of life The life only, within and beyond From now on I am a vegan The love for life The truth of the divine The truth of nature The intelligence of human The sensation and sight The pain and cry The idea to breed The idea to **** The idea to feed Disrespect of nature The ignorance To crawl over and over The idea of indulsion The idea of false victory The idea of superiority The idea of amusement The idea of carnival The idea of the not alive But idea of the dead The alive if one Ought to respect life itself Turn the fire of warmth Find the well being With the sense of compassion For sure fill the belly And only with leafy greens Yes yes yes Nature made us as plant eaters Think and acknowledge for yourselves Our body is not that of a carnivore We are not natural meat eaters Don't have teeth of carnivore Don't have digestion as a carnivore A body for the plant based diet So its natural and without a glitch To eat leafy greens Killing animals for an idea Killing animals for the sake of food supply Evil it is Not a effort to manage food No no no It is a scam Breeding animals For the sole purpose Of killing for feeding Feeding the indulging ones Feeding for amusement Feeding for anything more than survival Except the sole purpose Of survival and existence Is an evil in itself Realized now Realized yesterday Realized to the haze And through maze to eternity Realization strikes A light bolt The light fills the dark Awaken Illuminate Realization Wow Vegan now on

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Dec 24, 2018

Dec 24, 2018 at 12:07 PM UTC

Issac_Zepp

Vegan

One with sensation One with feeling One with conscience One with tears The cry soars to the horizon They are killing They are slaughtering They are breeding They are feeding They need the flesh To digest into **** The cruelty within The merciless beyond The ignorance under The indulgence upon The assassin The mass ****** Slaughter and evil A call of an animal A call of a voiceless But a denial A denial of the human race Slaughter for an idea A pitiful act Denial of existence Today I am going vegan Dripped in emotion Dripped in sensation Dripped in acknowledgement Dripped in the knowing The knowing of evolution The evolution of life Of the voiceless The voiceless with life The mercy to be shown But merciless around The acknowledgement within Today i am going vegan Vegan I am For the voice of the voiceless The nature of existence For the truth of the tears The cry and the pain The cruelty for an idea For the civilization of the civilized For the life as a gift it is For respect of life The life only, within and beyond From now on I am a vegan The love for life The truth of the divine The truth of nature The intelligence of human The sensation and sight The pain and cry The idea to breed The idea to **** The idea to feed Disrespect of nature The ignorance To crawl over and over The idea of indulsion The idea of false victory The idea of superiority The idea of amusement The idea of carnival The idea of the not alive But idea of the dead The alive if one Ought to respect life itself Turn the fire of warmth Find the well being With the sense of compassion For sure fill the belly And only with leafy greens Yes yes yes Nature made us as plant eaters Think and acknowledge for yourselves Our body is not that of a carnivore We are not natural meat eaters Don't have teeth of carnivore Don't have digestion as a carnivore A body for the plant based diet So its natural and without a glitch To eat leafy greens Killing animals for an idea Killing animals for the sake of food supply Evil it is Not a effort to manage food No no no It is a scam Breeding animals For the sole purpose Of killing for feeding Feeding the indulging ones Feeding for amusement Feeding for anything more than survival Except the sole purpose Of survival and existence Is an evil in itself Realized now Realized yesterday Realized to the haze And through maze to eternity Realization strikes A light bolt The light fills the dark Awaken Illuminate Realization Wow Vegan now on

113

The battle between darkness and depression is onslaught for any troubled soul for it takes place much deeper than any dug out hole This darkness seems to just find me Takes over my world into my sanctuary It settles around the iris of my eyes Turning me into someone who just seems to cry Rooted in negativity and lost in my pain Through my eyes it enters my brain Corrupting my each and every thought Breeding unwelcome memories that like to haunt Spreading now like poison through my veins Trying to take over till nothing remains Writing words is my only defense When nothing else I do makes any sense The power of prose keeps that place deep within me Safe and free from this darkened toxicity…

0

Jun 16, 2018

Jun 16, 2018 at 10:31 PM UTC

melissa-s

Power of Prose

The battle between darkness and depression is onslaught for any troubled soul for it takes place much deeper than any dug out hole This darkness seems to just find me Takes over my world into my sanctuary It settles around the iris of my eyes Turning me into someone who just seems to cry Rooted in negativity and lost in my pain Through my eyes it enters my brain Corrupting my each and every thought Breeding unwelcome memories that like to haunt Spreading now like poison through my veins Trying to take over till nothing remains Writing words is my only defense When nothing else I do makes any sense The power of prose keeps that place deep within me Safe and free from this darkened toxicity…

19

En robe de parade. Samain Like a skien of loose silk blown against a wall She walks by the railing of a path in Kensington Gardens, And she is dying piece-meal of a sort of emotional anaemia. And round about there is a rabble Of the filthy, sturdy, unkillable infants of the very poor. They shall inherit the earth. In her is the end of breeding. Her boredom is exquisite and excessive. She would like some one to speak to her, And is almost afraid that I will commit that indiscretion.

0

4.3k

Ezra Pound

The Garden

En robe de parade. Samain Like a skien of loose silk blown against a wall She walks by the railing of a path in Kensington Gardens, And she is dying piece-meal of a sort of emotional anaemia. And round about there is a rabble Of the filthy, sturdy, unkillable infants of the very poor. They shall inherit the earth. In her is the end of breeding. Her boredom is exquisite and excessive. She would like some one to speak to her, And is almost afraid that I will commit that indiscretion.

14

Grace Slick get over here something seems a little queer you know that rabbit in your song well something has gone really wrong seems to have spread to other kinds or is it just inside my mind but in the corner of my eye a big white squirrel passing by water with a tainted source turned the poor thing white of course oh well it could be worse I think at least the squirrel wasn't pink keep an eye on where they are breeding spreading wide and far then again how very grand if squirrels white come to Scotland

0

Feb 20, 2011

Feb 20, 2011 at 3:06 PM UTC

jeremy-wyatt

White Squirrels

Grace Slick get over here something seems a little queer you know that rabbit in your song well something has gone really wrong seems to have spread to other kinds or is it just inside my mind but in the corner of my eye a big white squirrel passing by water with a tainted source turned the poor thing white of course oh well it could be worse I think at least the squirrel wasn't pink keep an eye on where they are breeding spreading wide and far then again how very grand if squirrels white come to Scotland

16

Dress to **** don't show everything. Pass smiles, be polite to everyone. Keep your voice down, never to laugh out loud. Eat a modest portion, and only one piece of cake. Walk gracefully, poise in every move. Sit up straight, legs daintily crossed. Hold your wine glass by the stem, never by the bowl. Take a sip by looking into, never over the glass. There's nothing in the world like proper etiquette. You can always tell a lady has good breeding by how effortlessly classy she is.

0

Jun 9, 2016

Jun 9, 2016 at 1:13 PM UTC

clareveronica

The Art of Being a Lady

Dress to **** don't show everything. Pass smiles, be polite to everyone. Keep your voice down, never to laugh out loud. Eat a modest portion, and only one piece of cake. Walk gracefully, poise in every move. Sit up straight, legs daintily crossed. Hold your wine glass by the stem, never by the bowl. Take a sip by looking into, never over the glass. There's nothing in the world like proper etiquette. You can always tell a lady has good breeding by how effortlessly classy she is.

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(for John and Teckla Clark) Ours yet not ours, being set apart As a shrine to friendship, Empty and silent most of the year, This room awaits from you What you alone, as visitor, can bring, A weekend of personal life. In a house backed by orderly woods, Facing a tractored sugar-beet country, Your working hosts engaged to their stint, You are unlike to encounter Dragons or romance: were drama a craving, You would not have come. Books we do have for almost any Literate mood, and notepaper, envelopes, For a writing one (to "borrow" stamps Is the mark of ill-breeding): Between lunch and tea, perhaps a drive; After dinner, music or gossip. Should you have troubles (pets will die Lovers are always behaving badly) And confession helps, we will hear it, Examine and give our counsel: If to mention them hurts too much, We shall not be nosey. Easy at first, the language of friendship Is, as we soon discover, Very difficult to speak well, a tongue With no cognates, no resemblance To the galimatias of nursery and bedroom, Court rhyme or shepherd's prose, And, unless spoken often, soon goes rusty. Distance and duties divide us, But absence will not seem an evil If it make our re-meeting A real occasion. Come when you can: Your room will be ready. In Tum-Tum's reign a tin of biscuits On the bedside table provided For nocturnal munching. Now weapons have changed, And the fashion of appetites: There, for sunbathers who count their calories, A bottle of mineral water. Felicissima notte! May you fall at once Into a cordial dream, assured That whoever slept in this bed before Was also someone we like, That within the circle of our affection Also you have no double.

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W. H. Auden

For Friends Only

(for John and Teckla Clark) Ours yet not ours, being set apart As a shrine to friendship, Empty and silent most of the year, This room awaits from you What you alone, as visitor, can bring, A weekend of personal life. In a house backed by orderly woods, Facing a tractored sugar-beet country, Your working hosts engaged to their stint, You are unlike to encounter Dragons or romance: were drama a craving, You would not have come. Books we do have for almost any Literate mood, and notepaper, envelopes, For a writing one (to "borrow" stamps Is the mark of ill-breeding): Between lunch and tea, perhaps a drive; After dinner, music or gossip. Should you have troubles (pets will die Lovers are always behaving badly) And confession helps, we will hear it, Examine and give our counsel: If to mention them hurts too much, We shall not be nosey. Easy at first, the language of friendship Is, as we soon discover, Very difficult to speak well, a tongue With no cognates, no resemblance To the galimatias of nursery and bedroom, Court rhyme or shepherd's prose, And, unless spoken often, soon goes rusty. Distance and duties divide us, But absence will not seem an evil If it make our re-meeting A real occasion. Come when you can: Your room will be ready. In Tum-Tum's reign a tin of biscuits On the bedside table provided For nocturnal munching. Now weapons have changed, And the fashion of appetites: There, for sunbathers who count their calories, A bottle of mineral water. Felicissima notte! May you fall at once Into a cordial dream, assured That whoever slept in this bed before Was also someone we like, That within the circle of our affection Also you have no double.

49

In the jungle of affairs cheaters run the fastest. The wind is left flustered. Dears turn to prey, their tales are now marred by pain. The starved and broken pick away The pieces of the heart that bleeds in vain, breeding dismay. Scarlet footprints on the road to heal again

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Apr 7, 2015

Apr 7, 2015 at 8:52 AM UTC

jamie-king

FAIR AFFAIRS?

In the jungle of affairs cheaters run the fastest. The wind is left flustered. Dears turn to prey, their tales are now marred by pain. The starved and broken pick away The pieces of the heart that bleeds in vain, breeding dismay. Scarlet footprints on the road to heal again

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What is artistic expression how do put my soul on a page How do I stroke my aura’s color if I can’t see it How do paint my humor and intentions How do I draw my unbalanced chakras back to balanced and write the energies surging through channels How do I chalk out my thought process when I am reminded of you Walkie talkies hidden ontop my chalkie chakra blocked like telephone lines hit by drunk drivers or blackouts during storms Sunshine burning mustard seething weekend breeding burnouts coming out of retirement like My soul color bleeding rainbows with big blocks of grey in between Needing the contrast Needing the depth and blurred complications the world is not black and white we all bleed the same rainbow sparks into the same riverbeds breathing and exhaling with the time ticks of our existence of light reflected on the glitter trickled surface of the vibrations of our soul speaks ricocheting through galaxies for eternity. Can’t phrase anything right In come spiraling thoughts stories of me stories of we can’t help but trip I fall into thee mother Luna romanticizing the waves of the sea you rub my jaw with your hipster b Crown king we’re being free We’re trying queen Forgot the beauty in the cold Blackened hearts should walk boldly Frozen on mountaintops trying to keep our souls warm Broken and torn plastic bag in the wind escaping entities that block their flow Exhausted on faking Keep breaking from trying to make it Ain’t no fun to be around I keep all my words in my mouth The devils got my tongue I’m feeling numb All my existence is to *** I can’t get up out of the ******* ground Years go by I’m not feeling myself Tears come out of me like a leaking spout No drugs can bother me My head belongs in the clouds

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Jul 20, 2018

Jul 20, 2018 at 4:28 PM UTC

DersSpeaks

Aura’s color

What is artistic expression how do put my soul on a page How do I stroke my aura’s color if I can’t see it How do paint my humor and intentions How do I draw my unbalanced chakras back to balanced and write the energies surging through channels How do I chalk out my thought process when I am reminded of you Walkie talkies hidden ontop my chalkie chakra blocked like telephone lines hit by drunk drivers or blackouts during storms Sunshine burning mustard seething weekend breeding burnouts coming out of retirement like My soul color bleeding rainbows with big blocks of grey in between Needing the contrast Needing the depth and blurred complications the world is not black and white we all bleed the same rainbow sparks into the same riverbeds breathing and exhaling with the time ticks of our existence of light reflected on the glitter trickled surface of the vibrations of our soul speaks ricocheting through galaxies for eternity. Can’t phrase anything right In come spiraling thoughts stories of me stories of we can’t help but trip I fall into thee mother Luna romanticizing the waves of the sea you rub my jaw with your hipster b Crown king we’re being free We’re trying queen Forgot the beauty in the cold Blackened hearts should walk boldly Frozen on mountaintops trying to keep our souls warm Broken and torn plastic bag in the wind escaping entities that block their flow Exhausted on faking Keep breaking from trying to make it Ain’t no fun to be around I keep all my words in my mouth The devils got my tongue I’m feeling numb All my existence is to *** I can’t get up out of the ******* ground Years go by I’m not feeling myself Tears come out of me like a leaking spout No drugs can bother me My head belongs in the clouds

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All Blames goes back to an old time religion Mother without tears, no end A father without fears, no courage Poverty is a sin That can led a nation into abomination Breeding cattle can solve a herdsman problem However, how can one sell his daughters for dowry? Does it worth it to win the lottery, Then lose it all the next day

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Sep 17, 2013

Sep 17, 2013 at 7:52 PM UTC

darknbeautiful-1

Force Ripe

All Blames goes back to an old time religion Mother without tears, no end A father without fears, no courage Poverty is a sin That can led a nation into abomination Breeding cattle can solve a herdsman problem However, how can one sell his daughters for dowry? Does it worth it to win the lottery, Then lose it all the next day

9

I am a rain drop flopped down from the clouds I could have landed in a river or the sea Then merging with the rising and receding waves I would have been washed down into oblivion Or could have fallen from the heights Into a desolate dreary desert Amid the blistering granules of sand To be absorbed into nothingness Chances are there to have fallen on a rock Lying scorched in the heat of the mid day sun Then I would have vanished into thin air Evaporating into non existence I could have fallen into a muddy puddle Or perhaps into a filthy drainage To be contaminated with the sewage Or be the breeding ground of worms and bugs But fortunately for me I happened to fall into fecund soil Where there lay in wait a few seeds Hankering for the cool touch of moisture Arid souls desperately thirsting for water, They ****** the molecules within me. As their dry kernel got soaked and puffed, Slowly they sprouted and grew into life. Absorbing again the drops that came after me They, into towering trees eventually grew Some touching heaven’s azure heights And giving shade and shelter to many Now as I see them crested with flowers And bearing clusters of luscious fruits I feel I am there in each leaf and bud And my essence flows through every vein! As a teacher, what more is needed for me To feel contented in life?

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Feb 22, 2017

Feb 22, 2017 at 6:36 AM UTC

valsa-george

The Song of a Raindrop

I am a rain drop flopped down from the clouds I could have landed in a river or the sea Then merging with the rising and receding waves I would have been washed down into oblivion Or could have fallen from the heights Into a desolate dreary desert Amid the blistering granules of sand To be absorbed into nothingness Chances are there to have fallen on a rock Lying scorched in the heat of the mid day sun Then I would have vanished into thin air Evaporating into non existence I could have fallen into a muddy puddle Or perhaps into a filthy drainage To be contaminated with the sewage Or be the breeding ground of worms and bugs But fortunately for me I happened to fall into fecund soil Where there lay in wait a few seeds Hankering for the cool touch of moisture Arid souls desperately thirsting for water, They ****** the molecules within me. As their dry kernel got soaked and puffed, Slowly they sprouted and grew into life. Absorbing again the drops that came after me They, into towering trees eventually grew Some touching heaven’s azure heights And giving shade and shelter to many Now as I see them crested with flowers And bearing clusters of luscious fruits I feel I am there in each leaf and bud And my essence flows through every vein! As a teacher, what more is needed for me To feel contented in life?

34

How this could have happened I will never hear again but it happened all the same exactly this way. I was walking in Prairie Creek surrounded by my soon to become silent companions when I noticed events so strange. I dug my feet into the dirt they soon dissolved and roots were sprung a nervous system extending into the soil, oh the sounds the smells I felt. Where my skin once was bark began to emerge my fingers became tiny clones of myself each speaking different tongues I could not comprehend I made out these words "our time has begun. " I became a Buddha on the road a three quarter smile on my lips as my body grew towards the sun a thousand years was now mine and to it I did succumb. I watched the generations pass Christs come and go and come again. It all meant nothing to me at all as long as I have this fog that nourishes me and creatures living in the canopy. I stand at peace for centuries a thousand years and still my life is a five minute dream filled with all possible intensity and former attachments as the impermanence of the illusion of time was plain to see as human lives whirlwinds of experience dust devils blew by me. Lightening and fires burned me but I survived. Now that I stand in this silence lost in the meditation of dreams a solitary tree the last standing a brand new species born of evolutions breeding runs on the ground dancing on my grave I remember that first day the beginning of my thousand year awakenings I think it was only yesterday.

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Jun 12, 2014

Jun 12, 2014 at 10:31 AM UTC

sjr1000

On Becoming A Redwood

How this could have happened I will never hear again but it happened all the same exactly this way. I was walking in Prairie Creek surrounded by my soon to become silent companions when I noticed events so strange. I dug my feet into the dirt they soon dissolved and roots were sprung a nervous system extending into the soil, oh the sounds the smells I felt. Where my skin once was bark began to emerge my fingers became tiny clones of myself each speaking different tongues I could not comprehend I made out these words "our time has begun. " I became a Buddha on the road a three quarter smile on my lips as my body grew towards the sun a thousand years was now mine and to it I did succumb. I watched the generations pass Christs come and go and come again. It all meant nothing to me at all as long as I have this fog that nourishes me and creatures living in the canopy. I stand at peace for centuries a thousand years and still my life is a five minute dream filled with all possible intensity and former attachments as the impermanence of the illusion of time was plain to see as human lives whirlwinds of experience dust devils blew by me. Lightening and fires burned me but I survived. Now that I stand in this silence lost in the meditation of dreams a solitary tree the last standing a brand new species born of evolutions breeding runs on the ground dancing on my grave I remember that first day the beginning of my thousand year awakenings I think it was only yesterday.

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