"calcification" poems
Heat
Calcification
Incalescence
Swelter
Suffocation
Arctic circle above 32 degrees Fahrenheit in December
Leaking lakes of Methane gas in Siberia
Scientific data to price
Changing 2 degrees
has caused mass extinction
Melting glaciers
Oceans 7 centimeters higher
Drought in the Amazon
Changes in migration
Disruption in pollination
Heatwaves:
high death tolls
Decreased plant growth
Zika in Florida
Ignorance from the government
Refusal of proof
Nonbelievers in the White House
Dec 16, 2016
Dec 16, 2016 at 12:12 PM UTC
Crystalline gliding.
Clippin' cuticles in cubicles
& itching for a kaleidoscope
dance
with The Phantom
sidling ridged in the ceiling's fold.
Glazed eyes from a friend.
honey crueler.
Polymerization twists coffee sweats with briny tears
& my pores breath the calcification.
Beet red eyes sting like molten hiss
& pollen still buries it's way deep
into the tree trunk,
Bleeding like a sour calf
just to stroke a
coconut leaf
in the musky village.
I live inside a cantaloupe
so I can't elope with status quo.
Sipping puddles & licking groggy mud spots
so the Queen calls me swamp belly.
She looked like she was carved out of rice.
bitten & frail steps
with gentle linger
teased soft grass
in the concrete canal
where the streets glistened
with mustaches drenched
in honey brown ale.
His brain is a tickled cauliflower
encased in Papier-mâché,
Lima bean boogers
&
nicotine stained chestnut shells.
Gears torque and crudely animate
his sluggish form and peanut butter
body.
Diabetic eyes,
that bark like a sloth &
lay a thick layer of custard over their
last nerve,
intrigue mine own to stare
into the vague emptiness.
Jul 25, 2014
Jul 25, 2014 at 3:31 AM UTC
Sometimes, you must take action
In order to avert a calcification of the inner self,
A slow and sad decline.
My brittle heart was dessicated,
A cuttlefish, broken and alone,
Upon a windswept shingle beach.
Now, it pulses, it throbs,
The bass beat background to my life,
An eternal dance of joy.
Sometimes, life will gift you a great friend, a kindred soul,
Sometimes, you find someone
To revive you, make you whole.
Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 12:43 PM UTC
Truth is as solid as stone,
melting quickly with the application of heat,
falling into whatever mold is left in place,
trickling from container to container,
searching for an empty vessel,
draping over negative space,
and so I drown in well meaning ambition,
or perhaps pervasive confusion,
the vague insinuations of men who claim understanding,
yet do not give freely their true philosophy,
for you must be careful when fighting against monsters,
for fear of becoming abominable as well,
for if you stare into the abyss long enough,
they say it stares into you,
and so I find myself chasing shadows.
Soon calcification sets in,
and I am left staring at a product of liquefaction,
through the process of petrification,
no words escape my lips,
and truth falls on deaf ears,
a lone statue in a forest of fictitious geometry.
The fear is swallowed by the search,
and in finding nothing there is peace,
for the quiet breeds tranquility,
rest is found in solidarity,
in loneliness there is solace,
for if God reveals himself in nature,
his absence is revealed in human behavior.
Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 3:44 AM UTC
We sit
While unspoken words
form scar tissue
On our bitter tongues
Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 4:54 AM UTC
A locomotive
Floating down the tracks
singing in falsetto
Flashes of skin against skin
erratic breathing
Blinding calcification of desire
The sound of eggshells cracking,
of bare feet on tile flooring
Laughter Not mine
Frequent idealizing, projecting
The soft whirr of a washing machine
and her lips pressed against my own
The click of a disposable camera
and shoes scraping against gravel
Embrace intertwine
enveloped by her being
intimacy that puts the world in stasis
A locomotive
Floating down the tracks
Singing in falsetto
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 10:23 PM UTC
Yours,
You have caused the salutation and signature of this letter to reverse. You belong only to yourself and I suppose it should be the same for me, but you will always hold something of mine. I am not less because of it; I have and always will have the full complement of myself. But you carry something that is me as well.
I am angry about this. Why should you have some of me to take away, like a doggie bag of our year and a half? You should be stripped of me, I want to reabsorb that piece, I want to be greedy and have all excesses of myself back.
There was something else too, something that was not just me but something that we created together, something that we shared and was more than you plus me. It has died now; you cut it in two and each half has perished of loneliness. That is what I feel like I have lost. A part of it died inside of me and compressed itself into a hard little ball that sits in my heart. Sometimes I forget it is there and then I feel its calcification against the soft parts of my body and I collapse and re-realize what it means.
Mine.
Jun 22, 2010
Jun 22, 2010 at 6:27 PM UTC
The fleeting, yes, my heart’s desire
the barely-there, a wraith
Ephemera, whispers on the wind,
impermanence my faith.
I tremble before the eternal
faced with nature’s stand
Beneath a soaring mountain,
being scoured and withered to sand.
In the shadow of mighty forever
I teeter above the abyss
Toes inching and sending down trickles
the landslides remind me of this.
I sleep in perfect hollows
and cut my teeth on bone
The glory of calcification
rolls in my mouth, I am home.
Cascading the ones gone before me
throughout my own blood by their dust
Absorbing a lifetime in seconds,
turning my fillings to rust.
Temporal consumption thus rendered,
my heart winds to stillness sublime
How quickly we flash to our endings,
how rapid the animal time.
Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 11:00 AM UTC
Seeping through the
spongiform
Water and limestone
salts and
calcification
Accumulated wealth of
language.
Oh, my girl,
put those hungry eyes away
Jul 24, 2016
Jul 24, 2016 at 3:04 AM UTC
She dances before the echo
Swaying to the ways
of calcification
From the reverberation
pounding on the
Shalerock's walls
solid dreams are fossilized
flickering within sparks of quartzite expectations
Apr 15, 2024
Apr 15, 2024 at 2:23 AM UTC
Our scars show the wars
Past tears & growth
Birth, trauma the healing over
The telltale signs
of living for better or worse
Reminders of pain, loss
Gain
What has been here &
now gone
Choices we made
Toxic spills
cleaning up
The calcification stone rub of our sentence & prison years
, Falling down
Falling up
the ****** **** gauzed over
Second skins
Words harming me and mine
bleeding on the inside
cuts tear scars sear
the burning of rhyme
chaos in mind
Faded welts from forgotten paths
but not forgotten for etched in flesh
Rivlets bumps holes
puckered scars
aberrations in our universe
The pink red welts
The wriggle worms
mind slashes time
our years our fears
Our scars & battles
Survive these days
our ways
past memories
ripping apart the darkness
Letting in the light
Green glow of heart
Glow of hope
The truest carefree smile
Full breath of life
No holding back relax
Our scars only signs
Our miracles of flesh and light
Revenants left behind
Momentos
Memories
Souveniers from the roads we traveled
I wish to store my scars Away in jars
I don’t mind the reminders
but please no remembering today.
Nov 7, 2017
Nov 7, 2017 at 9:41 PM UTC
It’s funny
On those days
Where my head pains
More than my heart,
It seems the universe
Grants seeds
Of new Hope.
On that beautiful,
Begrudging, persistent
Day, when the addiction
To the darkness—
Numbnity— returns,
You will be tested.
The threshold of
Pain in your mind,
The calcification
Of your teeth and bones,
And the softness of skin
Will be tested.
And on that day,
You will have a
Sustantial conversation
With yourself,
Through someone else—
A lover silently
Snoring next to you,
A clerk at Family Dollar
With a gold tooth
Who laughs and says
“You like these, huh?”
As you purchase your
Fifth juice of the week,
A mirror image
You do not completely
Recognize,
God or the devil himself—
That will torment you,
Force you to ask
The difficult question
Upon the scale
Of evolution.
Those days,
Will plant seeds of hope.
Only if you listen
Sep 14, 2018
Sep 14, 2018 at 10:00 PM UTC