"collude" poems
Spinning round a windy ledge,
i kiss the cross around my neck,
these fever dreams replace the likes of you.
Grinning into space, alone and lost,
the dampened linens lie,
as i wake up,
covered in fake love.
In my den the china white,
embraced my blood and laced my night,
an amuse-bouche of courses left to come.
The past three years I can't recall,
coulda been fun, but was it worth it all,
i'm a coma patient lacking an excuse.
Truth,
is hard to come by,
You,
are a stranger in my,
Eyes,
collude disguise.
Sep 15, 2018
Sep 15, 2018 at 12:17 AM UTC
So lost is this ship in your ocean
That even the amicable stars
Collude with clouds
—In the frame of the sky
To cloak the referral to my compass,
To keep me from my contrived destination.
Only after rebirth, do I value Earth's opinion,
And know,
That—
'twas not collusion
'twas aspiration,
That I was being guided to my shipwreck
To go deeper in you
Be consumed by you,
O! My predestination!
Jan 15, 2019
Jan 15, 2019 at 7:12 PM UTC
whirling waves
dance until entwined
when they lose themselves
with another
in endless effort
to find and be found
multiplying to infinity minus 1
castaways from the Original Big Bang Sin
spending eternity trying to return
to a faceless,
race-less place
and space
without clanging clocks
when-where nothing
could collude or collide
because all
was-is one
Apr 24, 2012
Apr 24, 2012 at 3:39 PM UTC
in the weeds where the dark bees
believe in dark dreams; savoring the frostbitten
nostalgia of wet mittens and smokestacks
hacking hearth-smog and dingy bitters
against clouds from a nameless
grudge... spawn from downcast holly.
where red berries
gasp for yellow
in the crotch of a wooden Fluegelhorn
sprouting from the branch
of a hedge without
Lips.
But a mouth full of snow.
II
in the weeds where the dark bees
believe in atoms of uncorrupted joy and pollen.
where they collude with silent majorities
and swindle sunlight for a spawnsong
anchored to the beak of a kestrel...
shrieking the maniacal disquiet
of a perfect moment.
rattling the hinges -
adored.
without
a key.
May 4, 2018
May 4, 2018 at 7:33 PM UTC
Of any color or creed,
Of status high or low,
Treacherous minds,
Heartless brain,
Venomous looks,
Ruthless tongue,
Heinous hands,
Rudderless feet,
Intense dubious desire,
Conspire, collude,
Often pay deaf ear
Snub wiser counsel of one’s mind
And skim out criminals
How to spurn viral thoughts;
A major challenge confronting humanity
Of a confounded nation
That needs vaccination.
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 11:01 AM UTC
You think poetry's all sunshine and lollipops
Greeting card verses in fine hand by polyglots
You think it's all moon and june and song of the loon
And raining on plains in Spain and
Refrains in melodic whispers
waxing rhapsodic with Grecian goddess sisters
but it RANTS
and it RAILS
and it WAILS
flailing fists to punch out the night sky
leaving stars like scars as the clouds cry
weeping for anger steeping like
an overbrewed tea of loathing
while your clothing is rent in mourning
anger adorning you as
thoughts collude in a stew of
bitter brine of attempts and flops that's
not all sunshine and lollipops
Apr 24, 2012
Apr 24, 2012 at 11:54 AM UTC
Why can't my liver filter thoughts like it does with alcohol?
It would save me the trouble of all the money I've spent to free myself of bad decisions,
There is so much formality within a sober moment, while my drunkenness speaks freely,
My brain doesn't erase moments like alcohol does, yet my liver puts up a fight reminding me to think,
Fantasizing over an image created by theses slurred and blurred overzealous eyes,
I am attracted to bars like teachers are to mls style, and to this day I'm still not sure which one has been more beneficial.
Looking down the road of allowing glass, I measured my state of mind to pick my poison,
Tequila adds a flower to a withering soul, ***** snuffs out the light where it gets to bold, whiskey fakes the fight with its bros, while gin loosens the bones and wine your emotions, at last we have beer a truth serum more powerful than love,
What they all take is feeling, a small price to learning what we see in the refection is really something we refuse to collude with.
My liver is always amazed, the amount of control I give to it, whilst the hand with a drink in it stays steady,
The other acquires shame, controlled by a freedom of released inhibitions,
If I could escape the safety of the dinner lights for the missing love that I thought drive me here,
My liver is alone, in the battle, like one soldier who's realized that their command center threw them into a death trap and their enemies are mindless zombies of fallen memories,
My toast is not alone, followed by smiles and condolences, significant enough to convince everyone, maybe one more.
Jun 22, 2017
Jun 22, 2017 at 4:04 PM UTC
Of any color or creed,
Of status high or low,
Treacherous minds,
Heartless brain,
Venomous looks,
Ruthless tongue,
Heinous hands,
Rudderless feet,
Intense dubious desire,
Conspire, collude,
Often pay deaf ear
Snub wiser counsel of one’s mind
And skim out criminals
How to spurn viral thoughts;
A major challenge confronting humanity
Of a confounded nation
That needs vaccination.
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 7:01 AM UTC
Of any color or creed,
Of status high or low,
Treacherous minds,
Heartless brain,
Venomous looks,
Ruthless tongue,
Heinous hands,
Rudderless feet,
Intense dubious desire,
Conspire, collude,
Often pay deaf ear
Snub wiser counsel of one’s mind
And skim out criminals
How to spurn viral thoughts;
A major challenge confronting humanity
Of a confounded nation
That needs vaccination.
Dec 25, 2014
Dec 25, 2014 at 9:17 AM UTC
Water only runs in the house of a holy man
But the prayers of a parched child are ignored
in favour of the money man's plan
Believe in a God all you want
he won't save you
Nihilism saves valor
Believe in nothing and nothing can hurt you
Those empty symbiotic phrases of the faithless
Listen to the chimes of the ice cream van
and despair at the crimes of a suit and tie man
Crunch of steel in a midnight collision
they collude in hopes of derision
Under desk lamp ambiance, in heated rooms
13th floor apartment blocks
where the doorman knocks
where the doorman knocks
Time and crime again, and lie and try again
Paid protests in the streets
Digest your intellect, removal of a safe space
So that they might turn the power switch
The blackout comes when revenue succumbs
In your ancient catacombs, where matted bandages hang
and drip crimson onto dusty floors
Smeared where they jeered at the death of a democracy
This is the corner of civilisation, torn down and replaced with a bank
Dec 21, 2016
Dec 21, 2016 at 9:17 AM UTC
the smoke rising off the snow
like the wet breath of hot jewels.
is draped over the dead.
i have no joy where the happy is done.
and all the pilots blotch the tarmac
having crashed into
chrysanthemums.
i am Yorktown and Springhill.
a swathe of feral and ironworks
on a bleached stone
in a pit.
i collude with the sun
and cavort with the moon's sisters.
swelling my coffers with blood
spilled on a Living
Thing.
and i forget.
May 29, 2017
May 29, 2017 at 1:57 PM UTC
Typewriter keys dwindle
Twinkles of energy hint
Two brains resolving
Revolving conflicts
Hugged in jungles
Jogging in hurdles
Amused to brace and muse
Exploding cannons
Bold to care?
Let's collaborate
Collude energy
AND
Sparkle HP hallways
Inspire humanity
Arouse the energies
Exhume in harmony
Spread the love
Strum the souls
Cut deeper in life
Caress all hearts
Blow fiery kisses
Flame sutured cases
Lay your feelings
An open platform
Don't doubt instinct
Let's collaborate!
One a week series collaboration.Please read the comments below.All yours, open to write and create . All subjects and individuals are welcome!Please repost and add to collections if you could to widen the audience response. Many thanks J
Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 11:14 AM UTC
two tens, and seven, the square root of 729
no matter how the numbers collude in air, they are there
just as I drift off, before I catch myself thinking
of other numbers, like the age at which Jesus
died
twenty seven,
my four syllabled mantra, for that is the age
you got the needle
I was not a witness, but your attorney was
how he did not weep, I will never understand
he knew they put you in a diaper before you took
the final stroll
twenty seven, and during those final steps,
your sins yet dragged behind you, like ball and chain, not severed
by the axe of repentance, the chisel of remorse
where did the gods fail, taking you so fast from
the dim lights of the b-ball courts and your dreams
of being Michael or Magic to the dead afternoon when
you strode up the cracked walk to that crack house
and put two thirty-two rounds in the eye
of your second cousin who came in first
on your short list
all because of a hundred dollar slight
and a spoonful of powder the world could mistake
for simple sugar
you didn't fight when they strapped you in
and your final testament to an uneven world,
an insolent audience, was, "it is what it is."
did you feel the tug on your ***** from the raiment wrapped
to hide your seeping shame, did it take you back a quarter century,
when a manic mama pampered you in pampers
and kissed your tiny tummy more times
than numbers could count, though
not enough
did you, like I, in the moments between light and dark,
between this world and one where you must sleep alone
see twenty and seven flash before your eyes
and disappear before you could realize
what the plaintive plungers
and naked needle meant
Oct 10, 2015
Oct 10, 2015 at 4:40 AM UTC
the mountains stand with thickness
they stand out behind my house
i hear them thinking out there
thinking just summer or winter
they think on them flowers and
rivers and i think them purest
magic with whom i collude with
on hoary frosted eves i plunk
through the neat lips of trees
about the mountains hard mouth
i trundle and mutter with the
naked boughs of them those
straight moon piercing oafs
they cut her pretty waxing *****
into finite lovely ribbons
and i fold them 1x1 into my
soul, i gather up the loose
strength of the moon's hair into
my palm and sticking it in my
pocket i heft my sturdy frame
back to where i left my car sleeping
Dec 20, 2011
Dec 20, 2011 at 1:16 AM UTC
~
old stars: the roar of no more
pop up phrase precisely previewing the status quo,
logic argues that a crisp immolation poetic appropriate,
no second chance from cosmic to earth dust risk reversal,
no sadness attaches -
the circle line day trip coming to an end
old stars are not cemetery artifacts,
no blaze of glory, no blade of heroic story, no blare of horns,
a last twinkle, a final tinkling and the soundless
roar of no more,
the star records, the citys deeds, the video feeds,
updated, amended, erased,
old star exits the stage, its light shedding nights, eclipsed,
the poet, the writer, the playwright debate the stars obit,
collude and write
a roar no more
5/23/17 7:23am
May 20, 2017
May 20, 2017 at 7:34 AM UTC
At once reality, his matter found
Blue eyes arrested by the lighted set
Behind those ****** pieces, cyc, and sound
And heart’s threshold, at its suff’ring surfeit
A dazzling sun's ray of magenta silk
Rippled, suspend, to black cascading down
Obscured surreal faces of Love’s own ilk
Two silhouettes collude don one pink crown
In a scene effulgent, swelling refrain
Whole being exposed and seen from afars
The artifice washed bare, cleansed once again
Pretty in pink with lovely, lovely scars
One arm outstretched, clasped her aura’d waist tight
Falling like dead stars, tears bathed in pink light
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 9:32 PM UTC
Our pasts are gilded in rosy hues
painting the picture of golden yesteryears
Reminisce back to the innocence
blissful in ignorance
when small idiocies collude
into a charmed life
widening smiles like the taste of chocolate
upon a younger self's lips
the world seemed so sweet and sugar coated
just to turn bitter before our eyes
searching for the sugar once again
but all time hands us is more salt for the wonds
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 10:04 AM UTC
The codgers devoid of sane be born, also men with no power.
But They stay to collude, In the tangible mainlands of man,
old world demise.
In a new world disguise.
Jan 5, 2016
Jan 5, 2016 at 10:12 AM UTC
So It’s CLEAR That ...“ ILLUSIONS “ ...
Are Now Being ... PROVEN ... !!!
So ... Alphabet Genders ...
Are Now The TRENDSETTERS ... !!!
From Stage To TV ....
What Was Once Freely Deemed As Being OBSCENE ...
Is Now Being Seen On ... Various Screens ... !!!
Talking of Screening ....
When It Comes To Policing Their Illusion Feeds Screaming ...
Because of The Dealings of Police With NO Feelings ... !!!
Who Really Give Beatings To Those They Be Deeming ...
To Be ... BAD Human Beings ... !!!
But Movements They’re Using PROVES That Their Illusion ...
Leads To Their ABUSING The Truth For .... MISUSING ...
Their Powers Like Cowards Who Live In DARK Towers ... !!!
Like Those ... “ HOLDING POWER “ ... !!!
Whose Truth Eludes Clues That Gives People Proof ...
WITHOUT The Illusions That Keep Them From Movements ...
Where They Stand In Court ...
Due To Lies That DISTORT ...
The Truth For Their Moves ...
That KEEEP ON DECEIVING ...
Like Paedophiles Teaching ILLUSIONS To Youth ...
That Lead To Abuse That Then Hits The News ...
Like ... Calls For Impeachment ...
That Are ******* ... By Proceedings ...
That CLEARLY NEED CLEANING ... !!!
Their Illusions KEEP Sneaking Into Their Public Readings ...
So Folks Be Believing Illusions Where Scheming ...
And Payoffs Have Leanings ...
That STOPS Evidence From Leaking ... !!!
Money Infusion Creates These Illusions ...
That Truth Is What’s Used ... Inside of Courtrooms ...
Where High Fliers Cash Is Used To Pull SCAMS ...
Where Loopholes Are Found ... Due To Dollars And Pounds ...
Instead of Strong Cases That Have ... SOLID Grounds ...
Well Right About Now ....
Illusions Surround And Drown Out The Sounds ...
of Those Who Speak Out About How We’re CLOWNED ... !!!
By Laws That Are Flawed CORRUPTED And BOUGHT ...
By ... POWERFUL Guys Whose Money Now Buys ...
FREEDOM From Truth With Water Tight Proof ... ?!?
Because They Collude With Those In Courtrooms ...
Before Things Are Heard And Public Observed ... !!!
You’re Being ABSURD To Believe What Is Stirred ...
In Pots Filled With Plots Like Those of ... Ridley Scott’s ... !!!
Confusions Polluting ...
MUCH MORE Than Young Students ... !!!!!!!!!!
They’re Dealing In ... “ TALES “ ...
For Illusions To Sail So The Truth Gets DERAILED ... !!!!!
It’s Time For LESS LOOSENESS ... !!!!!
And Corruption Where Movements Are Suitably NEUTERED ...
For These Liars To Hide ... Behind Their ......
...... “ Illusions “ ......
Feb 9, 2020
Feb 9, 2020 at 6:15 PM UTC
electric blessed lov3rs lick digital
tower disk spinning cradle.
why so near far?
collude blank screen heaving *** whisperers
in your magic folly blindly look
on an sensual pit
it holds a wealth you avarice
c
o
w
a
r
d
s
crave most ardently
Jun 1, 2010
Jun 1, 2010 at 12:32 PM UTC
Critics collude in cliques
to keep themselves safe from reality.
"Truth is subjective!"
they say, diluting its potency and dilating its delusions;
But grounded, truth becomes a platform on which to
kick critics to the curb,
To taste the dirt of their terse tunes.
Jan 9, 2024
Jan 9, 2024 at 9:21 PM UTC
how would i know claw or feather(myself or myself). there's me only and also me. like claw sharply or feather downy.
me and me also. that's what i am like. both neither or either.
i again return myself to hands of thoughts and returning again i arrive and look on them.
and they are wonder.
meekest starting; hulking ending. they begin and they rush. they end and they abey.
not so nearly as a frond, more like a leaf, just new and trembling on his mothers arm.
i dance and i am collected.
i repose and i am disheveled. i am cluttered with words mostly. they collude like
grass fresh in springs nicest wetness on early mornings(they gleam and enamel
me). my stuff and my
artifice. they are the magic of person, of which i count myself amongst, and am
counted by. i squish their numbers and margins between my toes when i walk
on balmy summer nights
through soakness caking through my shirt. the dew of god's breath enamors.
and pleases the senses. such aromas(which waltz from buds opened in the silverset
moonlight)confuse
and collide me. i like how they smell. they are richest and fullest health. on the breeze
they mingle and bumble perfectly. they arrive and taunt me. i stand by lakes(wreathed in them)
and i would eat them
as soon as smell them. stem and berry. loch and grove. these things are innumerable(and terribly
few). how do i reckon them against me? but just bones and flesh i wonder on their bodies.
i note them and i bring
them into me and place them in my soul. they, like sleep, are posies and fancies gorgeous.
i ramble and i elicit. i trundle and i fathom. i look on people and i see them busy and
infinite. they progress
and urge. they collect and they divide. like oceans. each's a droplet and a whole.
they make me and i make them. i know me by them. and how shall i any other way?
and them by me
they know themselves. we are bound and seamless. i lilt and i think on them.
sometimes foolish i think. other times i'm so in wonder at each infinite self i nearly tumble
out myself.
and where does the truth lie? both of course. nothing was ever one thing. except for exactly
what it is. except for when it's not. then it is another thing. which is exactly what it is again.
i think and sing.
but i'm not knowing. i've never been. i just flit and prattle(i am the wind; i touching nothing
leave no trace).
Nov 28, 2011
Nov 28, 2011 at 8:05 AM UTC
Benedictus my brothers for plummet you shall
As the Gods and the Demons collude in Hell,
Collude as to leadership choices betrayed
In the Land of the Free and portrayed as the Brave,
By the fat guy who rambles bombastic hot air
To the prance of disciples who worship his hair,
To the tune of collapse in spectacular way
An implosion of promise, (as that of doomsday).
Republicans howl to the moon, to the moon
For tomorrow is now in the claws of a lune.
M.
Aghast from afar.
28 April 2016
Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 10:34 PM UTC
a star is born in a petri dish, and a speck of dun earth
is dislodged from the nova... the old men weep
for their lost kites. as their knees creak and their windmills
collude to disillusion.
And there be angels farming knots -
of Rust and Myth... they sing the tune that dies laughing
in the face of Life.
As the void dispels the rumor of the center that cannot hold.
and the center consumes the void
with a Point.
like rats without bulls
or comets without gospels.
perhaps rabbits without April
or Now, without seldom... the fog joins the choir
invisible. Joins the clutch
of our quatraine, to meter the miseries
of our adulations. like tears without worlds.
we are struck in the nerve
of our god's left eye
and are left to seek our ventures
where they best
Lie.
Apr 1, 2017
Apr 1, 2017 at 1:40 PM UTC
Praises to God
For every moment,
Every second,
Every millisecond.
Praises to God
For the forgiveness,
For the freedom,
For flexing his muscles to fully free me from all of affliction.
For victory over the condition of conviction,
How confession in conversation, the collaboration of connection in correction,
Can collude to cover the catastrophic occassion.
Praises to God
For everything, all, and all in it.
Jun 24, 2013
Jun 24, 2013 at 6:01 PM UTC