"bulldozer" poems
Basketball stands for war or battle.
That's why I think about the players'
personalities, in my foxhole or squad.
Danny and Ben are fast and smart. Dan
especially can pass making him master
and commander. To defeat them as we did
is pst satisfying. Ben's five year old son
disdains to answer my question
Why are you you?
But I'm not here
to catalogue the men's personalities.
I like them. But each of us has moved on
many times, when ___________ suddenly died
the games went on with hardly a mention
and his name has since been forgotten.
But even this, absolute mortality
of not just our bodies but our names
and souls is not what I came
to talk about. Yesterday, between games,
I asked Joe how Molly his daughter likes
the high school. He mounted an impassioned
defense of reading as the indispensable skill
when I suggested math, the scientific method
and history are essential too.
Also between games
Bob diffidently asked why my kids are bald.
I was moved by the care he took to satisfy
his curiosity, concerned the subject might be
difficult. He's a political science teacher so
I took the opportunity to ask What ails
the republic? Of course I answered myself
wanting mostly to hear myself talk about Iraq
and how empire is self-correcting. For once I was amusing
I thought, treating the subject with a light touch
heretofore lacking.
But none of this is what I came to say.
A new guy, long quick and strong, a
bulldozer under the boards with a good
outside shot if needed got into a dispute
with the other Bob who likes to tell people
what to do sometimes, about an offensive
foul Bob called which we almost never do.
The new guy said If you can't take it don't
play under the boards which is what I say
when I'm ****** and don't give a ****
Bob said You've been pushing and shoving me
all day. I said He doesn't want to be
pushed and shoved which got a wry
smile out of Danny as I put the ball in play.
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 8:59 AM UTC
Sadness follows me like a lost puppy,
Looming and pattering at my feel like rain.
Whining like a smoke detector
When a child makes a mistake.
I inspire depression.
An earthquake.
I step in fairy-like
Movements, trying to be quiet
Like a woman should be.
Destruction ripples in my wake.
I am a bulldozer crashing a funeral,
Demolishing the memories we mourn.
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 1:31 PM UTC
My dear,
We have
Lost your image!
Display your vivacity!
Unable to recall your voice!
Speak loudly,
Through dancing with wind!
Forget your fragrance!
Spread it through wave!
Unable to recall your colour !
Delighted with your blossoming flower!
******
She replies.......
How can I?
Your bulldozer relics us!
How can I?
Your buildings stifle us!
How can I ?
Burning fuel of your vehicle and machine,
Intimidated us!
How I can
You called us ****
How can I ....................?
*****
My dear
Our imp dominates us!
Please salvage us!
****
My dear
Please extend your hand
To clutch and revive us.........
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 1:57 PM UTC
So much depends
on a yellow
Bulldozer
Caked with mud
Beside thoughts
of payday
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 4:03 PM UTC
~
*Lipstick to void. She is a race against time. The beveled past a disruption in her lines of influence.
Travel is dangerous, and tonight it darkens the highway of blood vessels coursing through her extremities. She wants to be luminous and under the skin.
While Dorothy dreams of tornadoes in Kansas, she dreams of remote climbs in lesser Glasgow, of party drugs in Tokyo. How many lights does she see?
In her hair are sixty circuits. But she waits, religiously inclined on the hotel bed. She drove through ghosts to get here wearing nothing but Las Vegas.
So strange at this hour, in a city full of sleepwalkers for the taking, she now dreams she's a bulldozer, she now dreams she's alone in an empty field.*
~
Dec 26, 2022
Dec 26, 2022 at 4:36 PM UTC
I killed you in my mind
I stabbed you to death 37 times
I gouged your eyes out
shot an arrow through your mouth
I may seem violent
but I'm really calm right now
I killed you in my mind
ran you over with a bulldozer
put you through the wringer
and hang you dry
it may seem gruesome
but I'm laughing so hard I could cry
I killed you in mind
drove a knife through your heart
and right now I'm being kind
I whisper, "It's okay" as I tear you apart
you may think it's gory
but sorry, I'm not sorry.
Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 9:33 AM UTC
I live in a world
Where we pet deer with cars
So we set our emotions in jars
The cops drive with broken headlights
And nobody knows what's right
Yet we're not allowed to fuss
Because we're on a prison bus
So I dream of the days
I'll get to see the freeway
You got in my car
That didn't go far
You decided to call a taxi
Because I was so taxing
I got under your skin like a cyst
And I became your taxidermist
You jumped in my town car
That became a clown car
You made me feel like a star
And then left me on Mars
Where I lived out the back of my hearse
Patiently waiting for a compatible nurse
I found myself in an ambulance
Withdrawing from all your medicine
I couldn't get out of the trance
Your bulldozer left me embedded in
After being rolled in the muck
I became a monster truck
I wish you were a convertible
So I could at least get a nibble
For you handle a road of ugliness with grace
It's the same daunting road I cowardly face
We just can't travel together
That's how we'll travel forever
I just wish you could know
The places my car will go
Oct 21, 2017
Oct 21, 2017 at 5:03 AM UTC
Since then...I allowed my heart to take whatever form it wanted.
I trusted the process, letting the heart mould itself as it is supposed to.
I had ample faith that the end is far....little did I realise the end is right next to me.
At first, it felt like a bulldozer had savaged my entire being.
Your words left my mind empty, without a way forward.
A deep grave of hate slowly formed...that is where you would end up.
As appetizing the thought...I want nothing to do you.
Even you residing in my den of enemies is not worth it.
I have done a thorough clean up of hoodlums and heartbreakers like you.
You seem so pointless. This anger towards you is pointless.
I look forward to the treasures that will bloom from this. I'm convinced there are treasures.
You have no hold over my dreams and I refuse to allow my heart to slump in your filth.
It was hard, felt like the world was dumped on my shoulders, soul dark and heavy, mouth dry and tears flooding my living room.
But after a serious self-talk....I remembered my worth, remembered you mean nothing to me....you have no hold on my destiny.
The love you spoke of was and is fake. I don't need it.
I don't need that sort of make-believe love which has no truth...
The kind that loves the idea of love...yet despises love itself.
I have no place for thieves and liars....robbers and fakes.
My mind keeps telling me this is for the best and that better days are to come.
I feel sorry for the one you chose, she knows nothing of your hoodlum ways and smooth tongue.
Coated with every lie possible yet disguised with a fake-romance finish.
She knows not of your empty heart...
your inability to be real...
your other side...
your effortless ways of hurting another...
precious time which meant zero to you...
your exhausted yet experienced hands..
your over used 'I will wait for you'....
your conniving ways disguised by caring efforts...
your smile and charm packaged by pure deceit.
She is clueless. And so in love....I shake my head in despair for you dear sister.
I trust you will not endure the heartache I did.
I hope he will see you a better person than I.
I trust he repects you. Genuinely loves you.
She will bear the brunt of your heart smashing ways.
I am done and over the 'could haves & would haves'...
New day brings new opportunity.
Time to listen to my soul and feed my mind.
Re-enjoy the beauty of living and re-mind myself of may chosen path.
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 1:21 PM UTC
like a vase i dropped her on the floor.
i'm not sure if i can put her back together.
she won't be the same but i have a feeling
she has been broken apart and put back together.
you can't trust a man who
operates a bulldozer to be a
good builder.
they say "things have to fall to
make way for better things";
i dare not say this to her, she might
think i did it on purpose.
i don't trust myself to not drop
her again after i've put her back
together.
i've thought about handing her
over to someone else to piece back
together; i don't trust anyone will
know exactly where each piece
has to go.
you can easily replace a broken
vase, unlike people.
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 9:08 AM UTC
I'm at a road block,
While the clock went tick-tock
This one here is a fighter
He sets fire, easy like a lighter
Grabbed hold of that metal tight,
Not letting go without a fight.
Heavy and heavin'
He lets go to start leavin'
His mind tortures him "Nothing but talk"
Now he's in a head lock
Knees bent, shoulder back
He's a fighter that's back in his groove and sharp as a tack
Bulldozer
He won't go into foreclosure
He never breaks his composure
He'll break through this barrier
Provin to them he ain't no longer a little terrier
But a bull... dozer
And this one here is nothing but a fighter
Dec 15, 2012
Dec 15, 2012 at 7:41 PM UTC
He laid waste everything in his way.
The fierce smiling gentle giant.
Ball in hand and try after try opponents brandished him a freak wishing he'd go away.
Crowds did gather to bear witness to his talents as he lit up the world taking rugby to a whole new level.
Hailed an All Black great and a global phenomenon.
I will never forget you Jonah Lomu.
Nov 19, 2015
Nov 19, 2015 at 6:54 PM UTC
The day of fire is coming, the thrush,
will fly ablaze like a little sky rocket,
the beetle will sink like a giant bulldozer,
and at the breaking of the morning the houses
will turn into oil and will in their tides
of fire be a becoming and an ending, a red fan.
What then, man in your easy chair,
of the anointment of the sick,
of the New Jerusalem?
You will have to polish up the stars
with Bab-o and find a new God
as the earth empties out
into the gnarled hands of the old redeemer.
2k
It's been drilled in every poor man's head,
by a man only slightly less poor
"money cannot buy happiness."
But I disagree!
If you say that,
You have not watched your father scream at God at 7 in the morning,
questioning His existence,
as we get kicked out of
the second house that year.
I no longer find excitement
in new places.
You've never waited for the first of the month.
Every month.
In order to eat something other than spaghetti
and dollar store hot dogs.
You've never had your power shut off for an entire month
And watch as your family rips apart,
boiling water on the stove just to bathe.
Your parents owe everyone money.
You've never worked in order to buy your cleats, yearbooks, and school supplies.
Only to have your parents take that money, too.
You can send your vibes,
and tell me to think positive.
But the world is distorted!
Our lives are only better now because my family got jobs.
Before,
I watched a bulldozer
go through the house I grew up in,
as the bank sold our home
and built an auto-parts store over dirt
I used to ride my bike on.
The last pieces of my grandmother, crumbled.
My father stayed up every night
and slept through every holiday and birthday, since.
Is that happiness?
Jun 25, 2017
Jun 25, 2017 at 12:36 PM UTC
*a whole town goes dark
all cars stand still
lights are out*
silence . . .
then, something rushes by
nothing
or is it?
looming out of the jet-black inkiness
knees shake in cold moon
the sudden-roar of a impossible jet for five seconds
tinkling of three pedal-notes in the distance
a child's laughter calling from behind a deserted playground
sinister swirl of seeming-piranha inside the dark sky-folds
a half-dead bulldozer on the rim of a quaking river
murine-teeth ferret in a SUV-carcass long abandoned by instant-gratifixes
after..
*birds chittering about the secrets of the night
while leaves embrace the wind*
S T, sun - 22 sept
Sep 21, 2013
Sep 21, 2013 at 11:42 PM UTC
what do i need
to get back on my feet?
aha
ha
ha.
first of all
there are no feet
no one
has
feet
and if they did
there would be
no getting back on them.
there is only
crawling
and it is a miserable way
to get around.
what do i need?
i need my hair
to grow back at an unreasonably fast rate.
i need the winter to retreat.
i need the sun in the sky.
i need someone to believe in me
what do i need?
a map.
a bulldozer.
warpaint.
gold.
...and a winning attitude.
Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 1:25 AM UTC
The Lion and The Wolf met in the Dark
The Lion said that all the wolf could do was bark
But the wolf ignored The Lion as he got closer
The Lion felt like he would get rammed over by a bulldozer
However The Lion said hear me roar
It was loud and it scared, the stag, dragon and also the boar
The Lion is The King of Creatures
Golden pelt is one of its majestic features
May 28, 2019
May 28, 2019 at 7:49 PM UTC
*Her hazel eyes tell me secrets that
I have never heard of before.
And she don't have to worry about them,
because now I only want more.
I want to learn more about her, about the
person that lies beneath the firm ground.
About the person that will not let anybody
see her tears and instead let herself drown.
She is as mysterious to me as the girl
who forgot her glass slipper on the stairs.
And I can insure her, no one has occupied
my mind as she has, no one compares.
And when I finally tracked her down
and faced her with nowhere to hide.
She all of a sudden just gave up on running away,
and I made our fates collide.
I could see she started to realize how curious I
was and how much I wanted to get closer.
Sadly, I was not aware I trapped her in a corner;
I must have looked like a merciless bulldozer.
Somehow, she put all of her fears away and
prepared herself for an unexpected battle.
A battle I did not know she was fighting because to me,
I only saw an interesting person unravel.
As time passed by, I came to know her a lot better,
every day she showed me something new.
She took me by my hand and showed me another world.
She showed me her different point of view.
She could endure every pain that came in her way,
even walk through an eternal winter storm.
That did not surprise me when I found out she was
born under a steady sign such as the Capricorn.
But then a day, it all suddenly became clear:
She was tomorrow and I was today.
We both came to realize we were too different
and eventually she went a separate way.
And I look at the sky that used to be a pretty
shade of blue but now is a gloomy grey.
My heart still aches when I think about her
and I still occasionally pray.
Pray that our paths will meet one more time
and perhaps we could begin again.
But I doubt she wishes for the same thing as I do, and
there is probably no difference between now and then.
And as the lifespan of a flower, our love was ephemeral,
I was happy it happened but I still can't move on.
I finally came to realize she was the sunlight;
and now the sun is gone.*
May 27, 2016
May 27, 2016 at 3:46 PM UTC
1991
I realized
We were both born
in rotting soil,
plastic toys fed
by Arabia's oil.
Eyes closed,
ears behest
to broadcasts, we,
could NOT protest.
That was the beginning
of our mass destruction,
but cribs offsides,
we slept soundly,
thanking our stars,
proud to be Americans.
10 years dormant,
the lyrics laid,
enough to stick,
but their irony to fade.
Until grade school,
recess goaded,
as burning buildings
on our side exploded.
The imminent threat preloaded,
in airports we shed shoes,
forever coded.
The broadcast — our center
was the theorem
that planes, oil, and Arabs
risked everyone's freedom.
But when we raised hands,
to ask why, teachers said
hail red, blue,
and especially white.
We forgot our roots,
because the Ellis Island trip
was obviously cancelled.
So we read headlines,
instead of Orwell,
the day 911
called for a police state.
Trusted the government
and ****** Muslims,
the day turbans
meant hijacking planes.
Pledged allegiance
disguised as freedom,
the day war
was declared
on Saddam Insane.
Our flag revealed
a sham feeding flames,
angst-ridden
teenagers
we became.
With raised middle fingers,
instead of hands,
to Green Day lyrics,
**** Amuricans.
Because only idiots
press a red button twice,
when mass destruction is the price.
And only villains
make children orphans,
while victims drown
in New Orleans.
And only gluttons
eat caviar with silver spoons,
tainting forever
a nation's youth.
Entrenched in dunes,
we boarded blind,
to debt,
death, and
jaded minds.
Blamed by perpetrators
in dollars and change,
for a guerrilla war
fought in vain!
Voted Obama,
with Osama slain,
and soldiers withdrawn,
we hoped for change.
PLEASE, we cried,
JUST STOP!
We are CHAINED —
to a bulldozer
that has NO BRAKES!
…
So the broadcast said recently:
We are losing control
of the Middle East. And
Al-Qaeda is far from weak —
ISIS: THE PHOENIX OF HUMAN GREED,
We just turned off our TV's
and looked up,
the kids who gave up,
thanked Musk — our atlas,
not yet shrugged,
whose vessels of stars
will rocket toward Mars,
from this godforsaken
civilization
built on hate.
And when you tell me, ***
"We were both born in 1991,"
I can only sigh,
and breath sympathy,
for our dark history.
Aug 19, 2014
Aug 19, 2014 at 8:57 PM UTC
I once took a lover
who ****** like a bulldozer
and treated my ********
like the “A” button on an arcade game
(push-push-push-push-push)
he flexed like a Luchador
and I never saw him cry
There was one
who sounded like morning dew
in spring
when she came
and I wanted to taste
every inch
of her
I loved somebody
with a tire of squish around his belly
and purple scar stripes
like soft, whispered apologies
who counted my tears
while I honestly thought
he was the one
Oct 16, 2012
Oct 16, 2012 at 6:53 PM UTC
I could only watch,
As you trundled into,
Your ever draining,
Sleepless slumber.
I could only watch,
As your swollen red eyes,
Clouded over with,
A tearful mist
I could only watch,
As your blank complexion,
Grew darker than,
The blackest night.
I can only watch,
Her take hold of your heart,
And crush it,
Like a bulldozer.
Mar 19, 2014
Mar 19, 2014 at 4:33 PM UTC
Where has gone the lands we knew?
Of waving grass and glistening dew
All fallen to the housing plan
Devised by an educated city man
Educated!!!!
Those once green green fields and woodland tracts
Have succumbed to bulldozer blades and felling axe
No more the places where as kids we played
On those beautiful sunlit days
Now landfill sites and city dumps
Cover the places where we once ate a picnic lunch
Gone are the fields and woodland glades
Where we once spent our sun filled days
Nov 22, 2016
Nov 22, 2016 at 3:31 PM UTC
Rubber soled trainers broke the brick
Like the boom of the people tether the streets
Tight strapped caps wander and roam
Strolling the daylight for a place of their own
Screeching and whirring filling the room
Monoxide smog frogs that cling to their moulds
We the people; hardened in soul
A splash in the distance tearing a hole
Enoch and Edna turn in their grave
Darkened cobble flattened; all glazed
Mirrors and cladding click into place
A village that weeps, constant refined
Express the formidable now done and alone
Never your own
EST marks the alleys; so nuanced, so cool
If you knew the truth; that's a tenner!
You fool
Jun 7, 2020
Jun 7, 2020 at 5:18 AM UTC
We brought a warm, vegetarian dinner to the homeless in a Christian shelter
The steaming pans burned my thighs for the duration of the ride
Our host was a self-described anarchist, married with four children and a dozen guests
He had participated in hundreds of protests; countless arrests
Travelled all over the globe to the site of genocide and hate
Saved lives one at a time, noble and tragic work
His first mission was in his early twenties, to the Gaza Strip alone
The night he arrived he slept in a friendly home
Woke to gunfire, screaming bullets and children, and mechanical roar
Get down! Said the Palestinians, closing the windows and doors
If you look outside
They
Will
Shoot
You
Israeli helicopters scanned the streets and mowed down pedestrians
Dropping massive glass beads
Marbles, they called them
These spheres would shatter and leave sharp edges for scared feet
Once impaled there was no running, blood trailed and so no hiding
Tear gas canisters cleared the capable, my host watched one enter a house
Inside children cried and begged for safety from war and smoke
A doctor huddled with my host heard and acted on a hero’s impulse
Leapt from his roof to that of the yelling young
Dove in through a window and snatched all three, along with the stinging source
The elder two were scared but saved, handed to the Palestinians
The baby with them had suffocated
Too late
The doctor gave my host the canister, still warm
You brought this here, he said
And he was right
Made In The USA
He brought the story back, called every major newspaper
No interest in anything he had to say
This stuff happens every day they told him, boring
Last week twelve Palestinians were killed by a bulldozer
Now there’s front page material
Something
More
Unusual
Apr 11, 2011
Apr 11, 2011 at 1:06 PM UTC
I fear failure
A fear so strong it almost stops me in my tracks.
"Don't write that test, you surely won't pass"
Does that make sense? Well let's see.
My high school average was 97.3
I don't slack off, I surely work hard.
Then why is it that self doubt relentlessly bombards?
Negative thought patterns have played in my mind
So long my self confidence is difficult to find.
It has built up walls, making me believe I can't succeed.
But I am armed with my bulldozer, I want to be freed.
May 26, 2016
May 26, 2016 at 10:16 AM UTC
I think so much,
I wonder,
Can I survive,
If I turn my world upside down?
It might crash,
But can I come back,
Like a phoenix,
From the ash,
Of a forgotten place,
One long ago surrendered,
A battle pocked mind,
We can fill these holes up,
With a bulldozer,
Maybe.
But what do we fill it with?
Or should I leave them empty,
A reminder of the battles
Of thoughts.
Sep 19, 2011
Sep 19, 2011 at 12:28 PM UTC