"butchering" poems
deaf and dumb
are the passers by,
the visitors as well
gladly would I fill their ears
with the wisdom of weary worries,
tedious torments, but I fry their meat,
smashing it until it screams
the sizzling symphony wafts to my bulb
stirring memories of the steer, the ****
the beatific butchering, and
the killing fields of my youth
while others see only my hunched back
and wait for their greasy grub
I ask why there is no atonement
no sorrowful song for the slaughter
of young ones in faraway lands
who fell under the “noble” knife
or
the bovine beasts whose skulls
were there for the bar, that dropped
with sublime indifference
as it stilled their
magnificent silence
Nov 16, 2013
Nov 16, 2013 at 11:23 PM UTC
*A river flowing against its course
As if to floss
Its rare peculiar uncanny ingenuity
A notable case study of ambiguity.
An estranged lover unceremoniously
Literally butchering his offspring mercilessly
In cold blood
For having been dragged through the mud.
The undercurrents of change overriding
Entrenched seemingly myopic tendencies which aren’t binding
Causing irrevocably reversible state of affairs
Care not to be caught in the crosshairs.
A hopelessly optimistic romantic
Head over heel in love with the mystique
Aura of eccentricity effortlessly effused by
Her, she indeed worth a try.
Myriad circumstantial conundrums
That is cause of the inevitable humdrum
So characteristic of life
Answers a trifle few and the lackluster enthusiasm rife.*
Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 2:21 AM UTC
Ten minutes now I have been looking at this.
I have gone by here before and wondered about it.
This is a bronze memorial of a famous general
Riding horseback with a flag and a sword and a revolver
on him.
I want to smash the whole thing into a pile of junk to be
hauled away to the scrap yard.
I put it straight to you,
After the farmer, the miner, the shop man, the factory
hand, the fireman and the teamster,
Have all been remembered with bronze memorials,
Shaping them on the job of getting all of us
Something to eat and something to wear,
When they stack a few silhouettes
Against the sky
Here in the park,
And show the real huskies that are doing the work of
the world, and feeding people instead of butchering them,
Then maybe I will stand here
And look easy at this general of the army holding a flag
in the air,
And riding like hell on horseback
Ready to **** anybody that gets in his way,
Ready to run the red blood and slush the bowels of men
all over the sweet new grass of the prairie.
2.3k
While many people all over the world
Are busily running to and fro
Engaging in cheerful holiday
Festivities, one thing we know:
Children are starving and dying in Yemen.
While Saudi Arabia nonchalantly
Covers up its heinous act
Of butchering a journalist,
We cannot ignore the fact
That children are starving and dying in Yemen.
While Congress fails to intercede
And chooses instead to bicker and quarrel
Over whether America should
Keep supporting a war that's immoral,
Children are starving and dying in Yemen.
While the oppressive Houthi rebels
Backed by Iran dig in their heels
And Saudi Arabia bombs the cities,
Intensifying a clash of ideals,
Children are starving and dying in Yemen.
When ports are blocked and money is scarce,
And fishermen's boats can't leave the shore,
And food and medical equipment
Are cut off in a three-year war,
Children are starving and dying in Yemen.
A 12-year-old girl weighs 28 pounds;
An 8-year-old boy weighs about 30.
Chances are slim that they will survive.
Who dares to say that war isn't *****
Children are starving and dying in Yemen.
The people caught in the middle are certain
What the fiendish fighting portends:
A huge, unimaginable
Catastrophe unless the war ends,
For children are starving and dying in Yemen.
-by Bob B (12-14-18)
Dec 14, 2018
Dec 14, 2018 at 11:16 AM UTC
The slithering of her silver dialect
Wraps around my limbs
Tasting and devouring hungrily
On my tattered skin
Black bedroom eyes
Rated ***
Dissect me bit by bit
And piece by piece
A Picasso jigsaw puzzle
Scattered on the coffee table
I hear the screaming of spring
Executing the closing space between us
Our thoughtless embrace
Breaking in the aftermath of blood drenched butchering
Sep 18, 2011
Sep 18, 2011 at 11:04 AM UTC
Woop As the siren blares/
Scared nervous/
I hear a loud pull over!/
Its the Grammar Police/
awwww snap
They want to see my diploma/
I keep my hand on the pen
Like I don't even notice/
In my window of opportunity
Asking/
Son Do you know why I pulled you over?/
Cause I'm in the office
sir writing these poems?/
I take full responsibility
I don't got no diploma
I just got this GED/
He said that's not good enough
Put down the pen son
Your coming with me/
Now there's Turmoil thru the streets
drama around every corner/
There should be no commas
Period I question marked your honor/
Butchering with clevers
run on sentences for ever/
The alphabet guys set up
Planted evidence missing letters/
Sworn I had it down to a T
The I before E
how does that go?/
Well don't look now
I done broke another law/
How ever this may trouble you
I keep my vowels sometimes Y & W/
Somethings not write I'm reeling feeling uncomfortable/
Is it me?
Well don't you see/
A fused two V's?/
That's my story
I'm sticking to it
my testimony/
Yet we speak it double U/
confused by another rule/
They label me an outlaw
In the middle of the court room/
A mystery/ A victim being pursued/ by the Grammar police/
The jury siding with the prosecution
I may never be released/
Its Invictus/
The defense rest
Now they have an eye-witness/
With an eye on who did this/
There, their, they're, hair, heir and..... here/
The Ironies in the rule book/
similar sounding confused look/
If i where to spoke this and not
wrote this you would have not notice/
No no Input
was it done on purpose?/
For a purpose?/
One things for certain/
If l lay dying dead in the street
It's cause you took shots at me
Just remember I wasn't perfect/
But you are the grammar police
Just doing your job I know working/
Oct 2, 2016
Oct 2, 2016 at 10:43 AM UTC
Hello fellow poets and artist Finding this site made me smile. I look forward to reading everyone's poems and art.
"Let tomorrow sleep and peacefulness will turn to you. Free yourself and go with your razor sharp emotions. Even the twisted flow is the proof that you're alive. I invite the tearfully-indulging sorrow."
Dreamer..made the best of being a misfit...I have a close bond with Emily Dickinson.. she speaks the most to me.. I'm an Aquarian.. I help people much as i can..
Sea salt and tentacle love letters scatter into my aromatic wind like snowfall in the Arctic. Prevalent. Soft, sweet layers of flowery smoke linger in my midnight lungs. Dark secrets revealed here. Passions unleashed.
To me the world is made of poetry spoken and unspoken
I apologize here and now for butchering your lovely language. Not my first
Doesn't Make Any Sense. Trying Hard To Be A Poet.
Under construction.
Don't stay too long, it's dark in here.
I'm not a good conversationalist, but feel free to message me still.
Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 9:59 AM UTC
I'm delusional yes I am ,
I can see the Carcass at the gates,
Smashing your face,Pulling your veins
Death Angel has come, prepare to die,
When the reaper strikes you, you can't tell a lie,
Decapitating your head , Like a Dying fetus
Abducted by an alien , Now you can see Jesus
From being eaten alive , to the Flesh and the power
Of Death above , Into the Dead Sky.
Butchering knife cuts my body in a half,
I can see myself in Obituary I was chopped in half,
The Venom in my body still flowing bit by bit
Yes, I can feel it the skin in my teeth!
Dec 1, 2017
Dec 1, 2017 at 11:29 AM UTC
i had the maturity to stand behind my words
no apologies, no excuses, no doubt
you chose your actions and words
my reprimand by another
you could not face me
apparently not your style
you wrote it ! your words and actions
they shiver with cold
guilt got you ring-fencing, a meeting
my public disgrace and punishment
all laid bare
was my secret, to protect me self esteem
a quick death, swift and silent
you took my power
you felt proud, i showed her, she knows her place
you lonely old man
surrounded by bought smiles
retirement a true test
i pity you
don't be a coward now
be the maturity you claim to present
stand behind your harsh words
razor sharp
that rip to the core
pointless butchering
cold death stare is born
you claim righteousness
be proud, stand behind, no ! claim your words and actions
Mar 15, 2013
Mar 15, 2013 at 2:10 AM UTC
Frustrated
Butchering my nails
Counting the split-ends in my hair
Pulling them apart
One-strand-at-a-time
Staring at every scar on my body
Pulling the skin off my wounds
Bemused in exhilerating agony
There has to be an end to this madness
Put some sugar and wait for a house fly
Cover it with your hand
Feel it crawl and buzz, under your skin
Feel it shouting for mercy
Does it tingle, tingle enough, stop, then tingle again
You think it has reached your epitome of frustration
Did that make you feel better about yourself
Stare into space, make sure it is pitch dark
Wait for an epiphany
Tick-tock tick-tock
Take a vase and throw it at the wall-clock
Tick-tock tick-tock
That is the flaw with time travel
Time doesn’t stop
Your presence in the past where you don’t belong will not lead to your present and in turn to the past
Bottom line, you cannot **** with time
Every second you spent frustrated for the lack of time
That every second pointed its finger at you and gave out an evil grin
Can you feel it crawling under your epidermis
Go sit under a tree, with pigeons, those fluffy grey nothings
Let them **** on you, your hair, your branded shirt
When you stink enough pull the trigger, bang!
Watch its neck as it satiates the black and white canvas with red
Does it inspire you
You are lost and struggling and lonely, and frustrated without a thought, that counts
You are probing for purpose you may abhor
Your non-existant muse died as a fetus
You are now limit infinity tending to zero.
Jul 29, 2012
Jul 29, 2012 at 2:44 PM UTC
In the beginning
Your butchering words,
Went through my head.
As a child who listens,
To every word you say.
Your constant sarcasm,
Your words which,
I thought were the truth.
Just to let you know, Dad
Those butchering words,
To me are now worthless.
For I know now,
It was only your sickness.
Sep 20, 2011
Sep 20, 2011 at 3:36 PM UTC
Maybe I'm a little twisted and dark,
But I thought you liked it that way.
So I play with scissors and knives and darts...
Is the blood on the wall too much for you?
Is the blood on the wall too much for you?
I draw graphic stabbings and maimings,
You never said you liked your girls sweet.
Why did you ask for fresh strawberries?
I've always been more of a rotten lemon.
How was I to know you wanted a nice girl,
When you always loved to call me a ***** girl?
I thought I was your dark girl, dark angel.
You used to love the way I wanted to bite,
Bite you until I made you bled warm and red.
Now when I write you notes about butchering,
You abandon ship off the starboard side.
I wanted us to drown together darling,
But I suppose I can drown you alone...
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 10:51 PM UTC
.
A bloodthirsty old woman you see,
a cockroach from Satan’s
“Crisis Committee”,
For long she pillaged,
children she snatched and slayed
their blood she drank and ate,
to rejuvenate.
She flayed their skin,
affixed in place on her own face,
Corona was her name,
The old hag was insane.
When her evil deeds were told,
the airplanes soared,
in aim to **** us all.
On Earth they made the poisons fall.
They had us all locked down,
with muzzles restrained,
padlocks and chains,
ankle bracelets for home detention,
false tests on prescription,
deceived and plundered,
blamed for infection,
medications proscribed,
fresh air they denied,
On our freedom they put boundaries,
halfwits, scoundrels.
And when they “eased up” on their “measures”,
the camps were full over the rim,
large - scale butchering,
looted livers and kidneys,
burning the living victims,
“to prevent the spread of infection”
evidence concealed for our own protection.
She had working hours,
sleeping before noon,
was contagious only in the afternoon.
Half the world she vaccinated,
with poisons injected,
what is going on,
you are going to see,
billions of dead bodies are yet to be!
Forget we must not,
Lest not forgive,
Let’s arrest and sentence them to death,
they should not be left to live!
.
Saša Milivojev
Translated by Ljubica Yentl Tinska
www.sasamilivojev.com
Copyright © by Saša Milivojev, 2020 - 2022 - All Rights Reserved
Jun 14, 2022
Jun 14, 2022 at 6:40 PM UTC
i never knew when forgiveness of ******
deviations equated to
the obscurity of citizen allowances,
whereby i was excused from doing ****
like i was excused from having a conscience
stealing your herd of sheep...
but i guess i must have a medieval mentality,
******** childish, having to interpret
the profanity of the tetragrammaton
with the canonical gospels' acts of dispersion,
you said ****** were akin to
meat cleavers... fair enough...
god forgives me butchering you like you
were forgiven having a frolic in the hay...
and we're all one big happy family...
'cos i swear that's when ambiguity on the dogma
entered and the nadir was expressed:
sin - ****** ambiguity - equated itself
to crime - citizen ambiguity -
you want to put that forth to Buddhist
authority chaining ******** bandwagons of
thieves en route to the Tibetan Vatican?
only so much is allowed,
given you're championing one Jew of your fancy
while giving others the gas-chambers...
ain't it just Prince's 1999... we're gonna party
like it's 19-99.... i think you mistook sin with crimes...
that's my "doctorate" opinion...
you said **** with thieving being synonymous,
Christ was saving Greek intellectual culture
with the pederast **** to boot...
St. Paul was encouraging circumcision,
twat-like people with a statue of Buddha asking
whether head meant the shaved one ******
or whether it meant the prickly one gagged on
was on the cards - goose-pimple **** frostbite...
the moment when the forgiveness of sin
turned into the forgiveness of crime...
hence such ****** freedoms right now,
and a... ah... whatever... of challenged citizenship,
why would i? why would anyone even bother?
**** it, let's go crazy, Las Vegas is waiting for us,
the cowboys will never churn out a Thatcher
to "rule the world".
Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 9:31 PM UTC
audio me in... tell the b.t. off standards
to change the connection to lie to get to syria...
i wanted to become a butcher too...
not butchering people though...
onomatopeias of resonance of blah... blah...
you know... woollen trill...
i want the target bacon, i want to target bacon
on that **** head-banging with a pony
while blowing a sheen into a rodin marble
for the glisten of a haircut mare...
dark ivory like purple of a grenade of indigo
blotched with blood...
and spanked / spiked by kandinsky...
i told you i woz a barking gimmick, a barking cult-piece of mafia...
you’ve been warned dear bouncer allotment and semi-detached...
hey kieran - had his kidneys transplanted aged 15...
took to having a ****** aged 16 on the south park fence
when two ******* eyed us and the boys came to make cake...
oi boys r’ us you mention st. petersburg anywhere south of the thames?
i thought so...
make that spelling spaghetti for a kebab of dead meat
appealing:
it’s making headlines, people are fed fat but sugar headlines...
when fat headlines... people will be fed sugar...
salt will never compromise the use of steroids for balloon pop protein
for a mere attire of the bow tie undone with laze.
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 8:00 PM UTC
And it's still hard to believe it's been a year
even after a year has turned into a year and one month
And the burn that follows a tequila shot
is accompanied by your laugh
And coconut anything smells like you
And anytime any one of the many songs you loved plays
You are all I see
And I think about your eyelashes
when I put my makeup on
And red lipstick and polka dots
cannot be worn without remembering you on any other day
And lemon squares taste
like those good times
LOTR? The Beatles? Pink Floyd? Fleetwood Mac? Shakespeare? Hilary Duff?(only you would understand)
All enjoyed with you in mind
And everything that's awesome
has become a reminder
that you missed being our tequila queen on the first day;
that you never got to wear your cap and gown
and eat pancakes at 5 am;
never got to see eighteen
and put your well educated vote to use;
and you never got to stand to your full five feet and one inch
and say to the world
"Here I come."
And I guess the songbirds keep singing
with that blackbird
in the dead of night
But it's hard to hear
because we're all butchering Bennie and the Jets
at the top of our lungs
from atop someone's couch
Just like you'd have wanted,
just like you'd have done.
Aug 10, 2013
Aug 10, 2013 at 2:05 AM UTC
I always wanted to sing love
I always wanted to fly
What silly dreams
I always wanted to stop global warming
I always wanted to put an end to butchering animals
What silly dreams
I always wanted to stop time
I always wanted to stay young
What silly dreams
I always wished you were home
I always wished I was just like you
What depravities
Jun 30, 2010
Jun 30, 2010 at 5:59 PM UTC
The telephone has not been kind of late
It’s not from new found fans
Who have suddenly started praying for me,
Or from publishers
Wondering when my next book is going
To be finished
No –
It’s much closer to home,
Friends of mine crying their eyes out
Because some long-legged stunner has left them
“Dan, I don’t know what to do, she
Was a little girl from Sweden,
A real supermodel,
I bought her a diamond ring
And now she’s gone!”
A crackle down the end of the phone
“Come on mate, pull yourself together,
Why did you buy her a diamond ring?”
“Because I thought she loved me!”
“How much was it?”
“£5,000...”
“And how long have you known her?”
“3 weeks... I thought she was the one.”
I hang up after my apologies and realise I can do no more
I’m no snob, I try and assuage their grief but what can I do?
I can only talk to them, and the girls –
They must figure the rest out.
I decide to go and talk to one of my best and longest friends
She is one of those ladies I have always felt my friend
And a good one, but nothing more.
I talk to this elite selection of women, because
They surely must know what it takes to get women.
I turn up on the farm, she smiles, just finished butchering a pig.
“More fool him is all I can say. Tell me the only way
He knows whether a girl will play him honest, is if
He looks beyond the beauty and is she there
When he needs her the most, through thick and thin –
That’s the testament of a women worth having.”
God bless, Hannah – she had a way of putting it so eloquently
And I don’t believe I could do the speech justice.
That night I ring him up
“What did your friend say?”
“Nothing man, just leave it.”
“What?”
“That’s how you learn: the girls that are good
For you are there all the time. Whatever happens –
Soon as you mention money or start throwing money
At the long legged, the ***** the blonde. You’re dead
In the water. They know they’re beautiful.”
“Thanks mate, you’re a pal.”
I hang up and the phone ring again. It’s Hannah.
“So what did you tell him?”
“Just what you told me, but in language he gets. Man speak.”
“You’re one in a million. You know that? I love you.”
I hang up the phone and smile to myself:
Everyone’s gone away contented.
I’m rather pleased with myself,
They both got to hear what they wanted to hear
With the minimal amount of damage.
It’s a hard act to balance
It’s a hard lead to follow
But I’m mastering it.
Nov 11, 2011
Nov 11, 2011 at 4:02 PM UTC
My weary heart wades through the carnage of broken promises and sleepless nights
stolen dreams and endless fights
through the mess of slaughtered expectations
torn apart by passionless ****** relations
wasted upon new acquaintances
you used to release your unjustified frustration
when you merely lacked the patience
the butchering of a future, you never cared to let grow
you set fire to the very hopes you once did sow
scorch the earth, salt the fields of romance so they remain a barren desert
kiss him for the pleasure
these burnt eyes have weathered
a storm no scales could measure
tasted the fire of Hades
begging you to save me
as you crave the
physical equivalent to what you perceived to be love not lust
the bloodbath of trust
that forever stains my memory of the life I once did build
your razor eyes cut me down as you stood by while my love spilled...
Feb 21, 2013
Feb 21, 2013 at 11:17 PM UTC
Loneliness used to devour my soul,
Until I buried my self in piles of books all alone.
Reality was a bleak spot of dawn,
The trace of light, seemed long gone.
Then you stepped up in my midst,
A twisted charm,surrounding your grace.
My midnight woes ebbing away like a dead language,
As gargoyles watched over your gates.
Like a hopeless moth I yearned for a flame,
Fire so filled with sin and pain.
Lies glistened on your poisonous visage ,
Butchering my soul at the temple of your embrace .
Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 5:13 PM UTC
"We'll meet again. In another time. Another place."
Her hair blew gently as the wind picked up just slightly. The setting Sun peaked out shyly through each and every strand of hair. She tilted her head to the ground. An inkling of a smile turned up on the right dude of her lips. A sort of butchering of Mona Lisa's own. It was an even sadder version of that look. One that told me "I don't know exactly why, but we have to be apart."
May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 12:48 PM UTC
I crack the brickle bone and then carve back
through muscle taut with cell memory,
past tendons that could never teach us love.
We were bone on bone all the way.
I slice past ridges where my fingertips once danced,
filet the contours of youthful sighs, where repeated
good-byes were a chance to begin again.
This carcass is rotting, and the back and forth sawing
from a knife that's grown too dull for its mauling
has left my hands itching from the putrid remains.
Stand by, watch the blood congeal on the ground.
I guess you can never cleanly cleave the meat that's been
hanging so long in your backyard.
Just let it drop:
the roast,
the ****
See how the bones settle into the soil.
Who knows what might grow there?
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 1:44 PM UTC
"i climb high to hear his call,
as the burning abyss awaits for my fall..."
the fiery gates stood unforgiving
open wide as it devour, men that lust on every hour
demons ripped my tongue away, now salvation i wont taste
i hear the cries of tortured souls lamenting
as they call from the bowels of endless tormenting
buried under the sea of corpse, i saw the light abandon me
hopeless i drown in this pool of sorrow
stench of rotting soon will follow
every intolerable second was an eternity,
eaten by this butchering misery
"i journey now, sinking in punishing sands
in regret, i walk this burning land
to seek forgiveness..."
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 3:14 AM UTC
I shoulda wore a beard
to be (not) myself.
I stand out,
looking dead to the neck,
sitting in the dugout and scanning the dusty field.
I keep my eye on the pitcher.
My heart is going tight;
tighter . . . too stiff to move. (Weakening.)
I let it get a butchering.
I shoulda got myself outta this.
I never saw such a disgusting joke as myself.
I ask to be a fisher, but He exclaims,
"Oh, old geezer, skinny and bearded,
calm down, ease up, and be quiet.
You've worn yourself to threads."
I belong in an old man's home.
I'm a helluva mess.
I'll ask if he found a **** good joke in me
when I head into The Tunnel.
I was broke in the head and paralyzed,
had rolled "unlucky", with an epidemic of "frightening and hair."
But he laughed,
"Quiet, fisher. You'll pay for your sobbing.
I'm only asking you to give the best you have in you."
I know; think of the future.
I will be in this a long time.
I came for more than the ride
and headed screaming into it.
I won't end this lying in a pool of my own blood.
Mar 26, 2012
Mar 26, 2012 at 10:03 PM UTC