"bulldoze" poems
I live on the inside more than the outside.
But, I allow the outside to get in sometimes.
I let the outside slowly caress the inside and ****** it.
Come out for a walk with me, he’d say.
Words don’t matter here. You can be who you want.
The inside, she’s soft.
She resists the brightness, she craves the cave --
The land of mirrors we’re walking through that she’s so used to.
Where it’s just us and our words and the magic we weave with them.
Outside, we grab ******* we grab attention, we grab,
We don’t differentiate between the sinners and the saints
We take and we take and we take.
Just like the song, just like the song.
We’re not here to fight. But, the inside, she’s defiant.
I hold my insides and weep,
I weep for the the land grabbing
My body is not mine anymore.
I am a slave to the outside.
The inside pulls me back in and we bulldoze through the Land of Mirrors.
We’re not alone anymore.
We’re a lot of voices.
We’re a cacophony.
We’re a chorus.
We’re a choir, raising our arms to the heavens.
Take me out, dare me to fight
I will write;
I am inside and outside today.
Grab what you can, extra extra this just in!
We’re crawling out of ourselves and dancing on the streets
to reclaim what’s mine and ours and yours.
May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 6:54 AM UTC
****** Mother Nature
As rain forests dwindle,
and skyscrapers grow,
we leave those who co habit
with nowhere to go...
Sweet indigenious song birds,
all turned off one by one
as we bulldoze the trees
where they once raised their young...
Stealing land from these creatures
in each and every direction
as we drive them all closer
to their own mass extinction...
there'll be uproar of course
when the last one is gone,
but this course of destruction
seems to just carry on...
In Asia the Tiger's
now on it's last legs,
hunted down for it's fur
and it's teeth ground to dregs,
The Bali and Caspian
are both sadly gone,
a mere five thousand Bengals
till they too follow on...
Just five hundred Sumatrans,
a last thirty Chinese,
then this beautiful Feline
will just cease to be...
There'll be uproar of course
when the last one is gone,
but our blood thirsty onslaught
will just carry on
Amur Leopards in Russia,
Jaguars in Brazil,
being wiped from the Earth
as we **** and we ****
Silvery Gibbons in Java,
Hynobius in Japan,
on and on goes the culling
of one and all except Man...
Polluting the rivers,
over fishing the seas,
as we spread and infest,
like a fatal disease,
yeah there's uproar of course
at this ill being done,
dusty crocodile tears
as we still carry on...
For an epitaph we'll have
as our only distinction,
that we were the cause
of Earths sixth mass extinction,
not a meteor smashing
from high outer space,
just a cancerous growth
called the inHuman race...
That we ravaged the planet
and drank it's well dry,
how we ripped out the goodness
and left it to die,
how there'd been a huge uproar
as they fell one by one,
how we ***** Mother Nature...
how
we
just
carried
on...
©HaroldRizla
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 3:23 AM UTC
In this Developed Nation, a 19 year old woman sleeps in a bag in a door way.
In this Developed Nation, a working family of four relies on the local food bank.
In this Developed Nation, grandmothers live on a pittance and die lonely.
In this Developed Nation, my friends use drugs to fill a spiritual chasm.
In this Developed Nation, stateless refugees are kept in cages while processed.
In this Developed Nation, slave labour is abolished, but persists.
In this Developed Nation, the media patronizes and panders to the lowest common denominator.
In this Developed Nation, the unscrupulous employers bulldoze workers rights.
In this Developed Nation, the population is kept divided and ineffective.
In this Developed Nation, ‘I’m not a racist...but...’
In this Developed Nation, black people are stop/searched nine times more than whites.
In this Developed Nation, under four percent of **** reports end in conviction.
In this Developed Nation, seventeen percent of adults take anti-depressants.
In this Developed Nation, suicide is the biggest killer of men under fifty.
In this Developed Nation, children cut themselves to relieve pain.
In this Developed Nation, I’m a snowflake if I care.
What has this Nation Developed into?
Aug 16, 2020
Aug 16, 2020 at 10:41 AM UTC
shut your mouth
breathe quietly
are you capable of sitting silently?
i have watched you
in my hour of boredom
you have become my problem
peace has stormed out of the room
because of your inability to be quiet
do you really have to yawn that loudly?
is it really necessary to bulldoze me with your breath?
irritation simmering
yet i find it bewildering
that the annoyance you cause me
stems from your simple act
of being free
Mar 12, 2020
Mar 12, 2020 at 8:01 AM UTC
When we first met, I didn’t think we’d be friends,
but a year later, I couldn’t imagine us being apart.
Sometimes I still wonder if you remember the day we went prom dress shopping together,
in the crisp Florida heat,
and the next night, telling me you’d gotten a new love interest,
a 500 ml purple bottle of Robitussin cough syrup.
I know I’ll still miss you when I take my prom pictures next week,
right in the color you always said made my wavy black hair look best,
or when I keep getting the Google notifications that you signed me up for,
the ones about Olaf and the Frozen cast going to Broadway.
Remember the nights we spent gossiping about the hotties of Pretty Little Liars?
Or the late night sing-a-long pizza parties,
long discussions surrounding your cute Colombian boy,
how you always swore marry in rich to a successful business man.
I don’t know what I was waiting for from you.
After you half-consciously walked out of the room, opened the window to look back in,
just to hurt me, to see the wall that had sprung up between us,
the one you’d always blamed on me, but that we both remember you building yourself.
But from what I’ll always remember,
you were the slippery eel, the leech, in the strength and weakness of my life,
who ****** on my happiness to fill your own open voids and problems,
dragged me away from m life and my friends, to fill your place yourself,
bulldoze me out of my own life, my own home and place.
So, dear eel, continue on.
Swim through and far away,
from the lake, that still yet remains in my memory.
Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 8:54 PM UTC
We grew up with our hearts on our sleeves
I wonder what went wrong?
What happened that made us stop
Adding melodies to our song?
When did the pessimism bulldoze its way
over our shining wanderlust?
Did we close our eyes to beauty and wonder
because we were afraid of the dust?
Perhaps the answer lies in our palms
We just never look at them.
Busy trying to grow our soul from the roots
But cut ourselves off at the stem.
Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 11:13 AM UTC
(I) Love Thy Neighbor As Thy
self
~
*how I would
honor this with
joy effervescent,
this simplest of methodologies
if only I,
could permission myself
to love myself
if only I,
knew
how to love*
~~
(II) redemption: the city of man reinventing himself
*busting bursting, this city,
ceaseless change,
old discardation,
how blind am I,
skyscrapers built in a day
how have I failed to notice
the estate changes
a master plan unknown,
the reasoned limits ever stretched.
in defiance of taste and sense,
obedient to Babel tower's net-result,
the miscegenation of language
but this is a ruse issue,
an example of me/man,
this new born spawn,
a wagging tail of
a man I know,
a failed inventor,
nary a patent
to his name
years on years
he patiently awaits
for one true inspiration
a redefinition, a redemption,
a reinvention, a new cornerstone
to lay upon it a new foundation
just a clue, a single block,
he can clean erase
start over, inaugurate
a recommencement celebration
to begin the same mistakes
here be the rub,
the irritation,
the seed comes implanted
and then
wind spread
can be only repaired, replaced
when cross pollinated
with the love of a foreign body
and his only crime, love poetry,
his crime alone, for unopened
it, and he, both-awaiting the time
when others come impatient
to bulldoze him aside*
~~~
(III) Three
three
*an oddity
an uneven symmetrical imagery*
"only love poetry"
*a three sum,
- three legged stool-
there is nothing new under the sun,
whispers the Psalmist
this I whisper
only, alone, one,
be no such!
only love poetry
until*
~~~~
postscript
***if only I,
knew
how to love***
Nov 6, 2016
Nov 6, 2016 at 10:08 AM UTC
two sides of the same coin, two parts of the same struggle, a heavier burden to juggle,
Ive seen trouble in the eyes of the children on the news,
visions of the glazed and un-phased, shuffling in ruin
as foreign investors appraise the worth of the people theyre ********
the one moral man looking in the mirror asks what are we doing?
Coffee and cocoa-beans,
oil and toil,
diamonds on the queens ears ripped from the soil,
these are the things for which we ****
and people wonder why they can never get their fill,
why they feel morally ill?
perhaps paying taxes dosen't wipe the dirt from your fingers,
halfway around the world construction workers hurry the child to drop his dead mothers hand,
so they can bulldoze her home because the land is high in demand
for agricultural redevelopment, swine being brought in for re-settlement
people for pigs, the market is your master,
the dollar is your god, and your life is a disaster
the reason your life is a facade, is you cant turn false idols through ego worship into god
from a fake wife with fake *******
to fake kids with fake mental problems, A.D.D. generation and corrupt therapists to absolve them
to fake pastors, with fake ideals
this is what happens when one man profits from what another man steals,
and corporations re-define how love feels
and the rich try and justify why the poor have no food
why their own poor have no food, but why its more important to allocate funds to the protection of crude,
this is the slavery to which you have been raised
the hypocrisy of democracy can go on for days,
America, land of the thieves, where ideology is cheaper than bark on the trees
America, the land of the lie, where the children of the poor happily die
and yet America, the land where ideals meet reality, where the hopeful optimism of the middle class rightfully challenges the decadent edifices of the status quo
and where evil in the hearts and the minds of all of us has a chance to be laid to rest through the spirit of altruism,
America the ultimate battleground for truth to triumph over lies,
but where you stand, in the end, is the ultimate surprise.
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 1:01 PM UTC
Like a beautiful pink rose
She is in prime to bulldoze
Where ever she goes
Is well taken by those
Who know the grace and spirit
Which is ready to establish writ
By being always fit
With full force she can hit
Sublimity is her grace
Which determines her race
She has the graceful pace
Innocence plays on her face
I am victim just to see
Only on love plea
Where ever I happen to be
I am lost she is she
Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2014 Golden Glow
Aug 1, 2016
Aug 1, 2016 at 12:26 AM UTC
I looked the other way but saw you coming
I heavily subsidised you and acted on impulse but I saw you coming.
Like a leach unable to find it's own food source I saw you coming but let you take a sip before you could bleed me dry.
You ducked and you dived but I saw you coming.
No fancy footwork though, you tried to bulldoze your way by acting out a false reputation.
No one works for someone who barks. That's your style. A riddle makes more sense than you do.
I saw you coming.
You're a sugar loaf!
I'm golden syrup!
I saw you coming!
Seeing is avoiding!
Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 3:06 PM UTC
*To think we might go terraforming;
When we cannot save our own green earth.
Bulldoze, clear, hydrate, land conforming -
Leave behind the trash with carefree mirth
Lost to eyes that have never perceived
Intrinsic beauty within a leaf
The song of nature, gifts we’ve received
Perfumed zephyrs, their aroma brief
A symphony of insects and birds
Trills and whistles, loud winds and soft sighs
Music here that needs no spoken words
Had they noticed how it softly dies?
We’ve pushed beyond a safe redemption
Killed off species never discovered
So much more of which we can mention
Some, much too late to be recovered
And yet, we plan on terraforming
Move on to a new place, start out fresh
Some might see it as bullish storming
With ways unchanged, new worlds we enmesh.
Lin Cava©*
Oct 28, 2010
Oct 28, 2010 at 5:20 PM UTC
I could blow to smithereens
the wealth of the rich
could play a rob-in-hood
**** and steal
to give the poor a fair deal
could hang all the glib talkers
from the highest post
feet up head down
publicly displayed in the town
break the iron walls
bulldoze the palaces
pull them down from the throne
where I sent them
put an end to their dastardly game
but this mind’s wrath
this hand’s gun
can’t pop even one bullet
can only ink
a dawn pink emotion
of Revolution.
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 12:17 AM UTC
Executive- My powers are absolute,
thus I am totalitarian.
The legislature and judiciary
are each subservient to my whims.
I pass my bills with attendant
compliance, and interpret my own
terms as the law.
I shut the doors of compassion,
I am very deeply elusive.
I give no room at all to dissent.
I get bloated with the treasures of the nation.
In a leap year's tenure I bulldoze
my way back to my incumbent status.
And when four multiplies two, I impose
a minion to cover my ills.
Legislature- To obnoxious decrees I give my consent.
I inflate yearly forecasts to become opulent.
I am gratified for the cabinet servants' affirmation.
I always my selfish treaties ratify.
I am undoubtedly slavish to executive excesses.
I seek the redress of constituents' grievances
to enlarge my pocket's size.
And above all else, I am largely rubber stamp.
Judiciary- My evasive justice is yours' to reap
if you are a top notch,
whilst I withdraw the distributive
and restorative from insolvents.
I base my interpretations on business
interests,
and make laws for the interests of
a cabal.
Equity and rights are only in my
constitution stated.
But in reality they are no more
than abstract twins.
The sacred laws of our national prospectus
I serve as a weak custodian of,
and weaker still in the face of political
heavyweights.
But with all the lofty responsibilities
I am reverently saddled with,
I can do nothing more than
empower bigwigs because I am weak,
and they are powerful.
Aug 2, 2023
Aug 2, 2023 at 5:29 PM UTC
The slow stream meanders through the densest undergrowth
finding its way through folly and brush and barriers
until at last it reaches a sea of understanding
where the waves crash and burn
tumble and roll in ecstatic freedom.
So do our lives, liberated from tense *******
of social chains placed upon us
by tradition. We were born free
others wanted us locked in rituals
and rants prescribed
that satisfied their swollen egos
and their own insecurities in the chain
of progress.
Breaking out is not easy
but one must bulldoze through the miasma
to reach the thin light beckoning you
to leave your baggage behind
on an overcrowded platform
where the trains have just whistled past.
A long time ago, my mind was ablaze
in the jungle of dissent and I roamed the world
seeking the liked and unliked ideologies
to a better way to leave a mark of this fabric
of patterned prose and poetry.
Am I yet free? I don't know.
Tempt me with the taste of freedom.
Author Notes
Freedom has many shades.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 8:15 PM UTC
Any eye casted toward
the corner of the yard
noticed how this spot,
wild and overgrown
was like
foliage of the forest.
To her the spot was
evidence of rebellion
for it was real,
not patterned
or contrived like their days
had grown
The rugged corner drew her
to childhood memories,
smells, and signs
of the unspoiled countryside
of a time before she
became tame and docile
How could he destroy
this one rebel plot?
How could he bulldoze
the one rough-hewn patch
like he had purged
all unpretentious blood
from her heart?
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 6:58 PM UTC
Mother Earth
Mother Nature gave birth to our world,
So we thanked her for the wood
And complained when it rained.
We’ve only just begun to burn,
Mother nature’s twigs.
We only need the trunks and tusks today;
You can leave the rest for the vultures and the natives.
Burn these trees, they are in our way.
That bird just crapped on me!
Thanks a lot Mother Nature.
He, he.
Move out all the animals, put them in a zoo.
Empty the jungle of life, so the bulldozers can get through.
Shoot them if they get in the way, no-one’s bullet proof.
Hey look! A monkey! Let’s shoot it with pollution…Shame on you!
Did you hear about Sam?
I know! He got torn up;
By that thorny bush and that tigers lunge.
Mother Nature. She never thinks of us;
While we work **** hard,
To bulldoze her jungles.
Mother Earth indeed!
She doesn’t care about us…
Her Destroyers.
(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Jun 8, 2018
Jun 8, 2018 at 1:50 PM UTC
Serving of my nation for long long years
Being in pain without shedding tears
Many hypocrites and many soothsayers
Were in my way to create many fears
But still I maintain I paved my way
In that scorching fire of the day
I kindled my soul and dwindled to pray
For Beauty of Lord who has yet to lay
Her love on heart her beauty in eyes
Soul just cherishes and body dies
Then at times in those love cries
When truth of eyes changes to lies
After covering through that long distance
Crossing hurdles boarders and fence
I yet to think to finish this sentence
And be back with my people hence
Death should come in the company of friends
That is the point where body just sends
Clay to clay and trends to trends
That is where soul always bends
To her Master to her Lord
That is the time when call of God
Embraces soul being time barred
When the land takes back her ward
Love travels and beauty goes
Like the fragrance of innocent rose
The return of native will bulldoze
Where the world has,has supposed
All problems of the day
Where one has to ultimately say
Goodbye to friends and to foes
Soul has to go and body has to stay
With crazy desires and ***** needs
Nurtures again the soil seeds
Conviction being leader always needs
Where words are encountered by good deeds
Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
Oct 13, 2016
Oct 13, 2016 at 4:51 PM UTC
With its full force in veins it flows and glows
Love either takes you to glory or to the gallows
When beauty in trance becomes ready and shows
Price of that rose a lovers understands and knows
When every thing changes its shape to love rose
When beauty becomes heavenly wine to bulldoze
When lover in love becomes lunatic and he owes
Then beauty in intoxication takes a chance , throws
The entire universe takes herself to that love dance
Happiness shares herself everywhere to take chance
Nothing remains stable but goes to just a real trance
Entire world is dominated either by love or romance
Let my sweetheart be the part of that ecstasy to enhance
Please expose your beauty in delight to prove my stance
Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 5:21 AM UTC
I have a horrible taste in men
I don't care if they're short or thin
but I need them to hit me
as in physically hurt me
take me bones and break them in ways I didn't think possible
Twist my mind
take my beliefs and shatter them
take the walls I built and bulldoze through them
lock me in your basement
keep me there rotting for years
tell me you love me
as long as I let you in
I need to feel that abuse
I want a love that hurts me
I need you to treat me
just like my father did
Oct 8, 2016
Oct 8, 2016 at 5:46 PM UTC
Yeah, I can tell you I’ve been finding my intimacy inside of someone else’s skin,
I’ve been avoiding contact with my own garden,
I’m too scared to come back, I don’t know what the flowers will say when they see me, and I’m too afraid that I won’t have enough water for all of them, I don’t want to see them like that,
Dried up and dying, but I guess we all get to that point
My organs have been feeling like empty warehouses with dust and lack of emotional labor,
It’s really ***** around here, and I don’t have enough in me to hire someone to help,
And I don’t have enough in me to fix everything that’s wrong inside of them,
I’ve been hoping that maybe if I leave them empty long enough, I’ll finally get the chance to bulldoze what little is left after it’s all rotted away and grown over with weeds,
And the cracks in my body’s sidewalks will grow thorns too thick to walk through
My angels gave me fertilizer but I’ve been too busy using it on the community gardens,
What I would sacrifice to see everyone else grow
I am living the death of every empty sad warehouse in every town in every city in every country of my body, and I am scared that I won’t know how to rebuild once it all crumbles back into the grounds from which it all came
Instead, I’ll crawl the surface of my body, getting cuts and scrapes from everything that’s become broken, just like that two headed boy back in ‘98,
and I’ll sing my hallelujahs into the open wounds like my magic could possibly heal something that no longer has potential
But it’s all a beautiful kind of war,
Where the guns and anger unlearn dead and relearn life,
Where the bullets are poppyseeds,
And the whole battlefield is lit up with a happy kind of high,
A feel good kind of resolution,
And the blood shed on my body’s soil is like water in the stems of all of the flowers killed by everything that has collapsed and fallen in on them
And when the horses come running, when the bells come ringing, when the soldiers return home,
They will begin anew, and every warehouse in every town in every city in every country in my body will have lights in their windows for the first time in years
Nov 2, 2018
Nov 2, 2018 at 2:47 AM UTC
Nestle me into the wall,
bulldoze me to sleep.
Rip out my spine and let me puddle at your feet.
May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 11:52 AM UTC
My sweetheart love me until I breathe
Let me swing your beauty just to fly
My emotions rise with touch like seethe
Let me touch your treasure let me try
Your lips are soft like petals of a rose
Your cheeks glow like a burning fire
Your bosom's knot is ready to bulldoze
What a charming girl, wonderful attire
She wants me to take over to intoxicate
Her juicy cheeks invite me to just ****
You have taken my heart, let me locate
I am your fortune and you are my luck
Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
Nov 13, 2016
Nov 13, 2016 at 3:54 AM UTC
Retrogressing.
Always stressing.
For no reason.
But you don't realize it,
Or do you?
Do you willingly overwork yourself over nothing?
Do you make plateaux out of plains?
Make an ocean out of a little rain?
Because I don't see them;
The things you see;
The roadblocks that stopped you,
That made you halt,
That made you give up.
All I see is a boy;
Not ready for what life has to offer;
A child still being fed with milk.
All I see is an individual;
That wants to be free,
But doesn't know what it means;
To be truly free.
You have liberty but call it;
Freedom!
No one is ever free,
Not you, not me.
Not even the wealthiest man, you see?
He's tied down with maybe health issues;
And the greed for even more money.
Retrogressing.
Always stressing.
For no reason.
But you do realize it,
Don't you?
You know that the only way to get through,
Is to fortify yourself,
Get rid of fear,
And bulldoze your way through;
All the invisible roadblocks;
Life placed in front of you.
They were only placed there;
To strengthen you.
Jul 2, 2018
Jul 2, 2018 at 2:55 PM UTC
Raids, rockets, guns, slaughter
any way to **** my friends’ daughters, my friends’ brothers, my friends’ mothers, my friends’ fathers.
I see your ash covered faces, I see your blood streaming, I see your tears dropping. I see your still bodies unprotected, I see your bullet covered corpses lying flat, I see your open wounds throbbing
Calling on you to keep fighting. Urging you to continue shouting. Begging you to carry on uniting.
I’m here for you in a hidden place until we meet. You’ve been there for me in Gaza’s streets.
Like our beloved Prophet, you’re suffering so
Yet you keep giving us a martyrdom show.
I remember you. I’m obliged not to eat. It’s Ramadan you know and it’ll end with a feast. But my dear friends will be missing at the table. I’ll be missing too but not because I’m gone. Because I’ll be standing up holding my Palestinian friends’ hands until the morning’s dawn.
Devils with legs, Satans with money...
How dare you try to smother our faith, ruin my friends’ homes, steal their three-shaded bands.
Who do you think you are? King of Iran? You’d do better to follow the Quran.
At least be a real Jew, at least be a real Christian, at least be a real Muslim. Netanyahu, Obama, Al Saud.
You heard me! Does your God approve of your devil worship? Does your God approve of your insanity? Does your God approve of your missing heart?
Just because you hate the truth - The Power it has – Its power to positively change the world. To stop you in your tracks. Don’t take that out on me. I AM THEM in a different part of the world. Like them, I AM HUMAN.
Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.
No way would you bulldoze yourself. No way would you set fire on yourself. No way would you drop bombs on yourself. So why do this to my friends? Why do this to me?
Listen! My oppressed friends are dying and much of the world is crying. The planet Earth is quickly frying.
Do you not see…"Palestine is the Issue." Thank you Imam Asi.
My dear friends facing great oppression - I will not turn my head away. My soul will not act as though you don’t matter. As though you don’t exist. As though I don’t care. I do! I’m bleeding too and I feel for you. I extend my hand and give you Salam. I embrace you - in your time of urgent need, in your time of struggle.
LONG LIVE PALESTINE! LONG LIVE MY OPPRESSED FRIEND!
By: Najwa Kareem
July 9, 2015
May 12, 2021
May 12, 2021 at 12:01 PM UTC