"commons" poems
Across an ocean of canvas white
A stroke of beauty comes to light
The patterns even, contrast, and fair
Complexity in the mind created with care
Do not allow a single smear
To blotch the canvas and make unclear
What blossoms made with hand and mind
What intricacies you will find
A root of commons grown within
of Artist and Gazer's ken
Now engrossed with personal thought
Through paintings on canvas, connection is sought.
Dec 9, 2013
Dec 9, 2013 at 10:36 PM UTC
you are beautiful.
you are tragically beautiful.
you are notre dame
at night.
you are the eiffel tower
amidst bombshells.
you are the house of commons
and the house of lords.
you are the lone beam
standing after Katrina.
you are the one baby sea turtle
who makes it off the beach.
you are the dark side of the moon.
you are the patch of sand
struck by lightning.
you are the remains discovered
after the plane goes down.
you're a smooth puddle in a parking lot.
you are the creaky stair
that warns of intruders.
you are all of the red skittles.
you are Job 3:14.
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 3:38 PM UTC
When in Bohemia, she screams about
Her pastures green, but not too loud
So never have I known, that the world listens too
As a comedian, I see she belongs
But never conforms, to the song of
This nomad world, I'm glad she found it too
So run! She wants to run again
You vagabond, you're well-spent
Bohemian tendencies says, “you can't stay long”
“These kinds of commons, you won't ever get along”
Armenian, it’s such a release
Materialistic animosity
The speed of life has no value, like dollar signs
I loved an alien, who dabbled in art
Of all visage, enema of the heart
Wanderer, she's spent so much but there's that bliss in the air
So smile! It's all sorts of worthwhile
To see a world and not fret so much
Bohemian tendencies says, “be spectacular
Before the nebula men steal your fur”
In the Caribbean, you dream a kite
As your taxi, you can't walk all the time
Travel hills of puce-mauve sands, the world in trance
A true deviant, the thinking of
All dreaming thoughts, and loves begot
Tinkerer, what will we do when our brains run dry?
Oh, no! Don't think about the end
To love a life in due pretence
Bohemian tendencies says, “think fair, live now”
“The world is watching with distaste of time in doubt”
As a chameleon, should she go alone?
The world is cold, except for times in colour
Her world in dance, she'll do without me
When in Bohemian, the first I've seen
Of pastel stencils through her happi-
Ness-tled in her loft home of the wind
There she goes! Ain’t she a lovely wing?
I hope she finds a world that sings
Bohemian tendencies says, “to love and to hold
But to let go, for treasures can mold”
There she goes
There she goes
There she goes
Oct 14, 2018
Oct 14, 2018 at 3:39 PM UTC
Composed
wandering the Commons, quietly listening
to the sounds of Childish Gambino
Confused
Looking for the sixteenth time for
An escape from the Pru
Sipping a glass of Sam Adams Boston Brick Red
at a corner of WHISKEY'S on Boylston
Stopped in at Ben & Jerry's on Park:
Bought a cone of ™
Paid for it with
my Bank of America® VISA® P L A T I N U M P L U S ®
Checked in on foursquare and
read the protest tweets on
my verizonwireless® hTC® ThunderBolt™
with Google:
@OccupyWallSt
#NYPD collapses on #Sanctuary and begins arresting clergy and occupiers
inside. #D17 #Re-Occupy #OWS
\_Retweeted by Occupy Boston
@HoraceBoothroyd
@OccupyWallSt Links to sanctuary/clergy violations?
Erst I wandered the sights
and thought of thoughts
Tweeted a picture of the “pro-corporate” march
Pictured Headlines:
Area Cop Arrests Area Man for Obeying Traffic Signal
"Didn't anybody tell him that's not how its done round here?"
Cell of Young Idealists with ties to
Low-Level Terrorist Organization Busted & Detained:
Found Plotting the Grassroots, Digitized, Non-Violent Overthrow of the Status Quo
Op-ed:
City upon a Hill: “Whose city?! Whose hill?!”
#SOPA #NDAA
#OCCUPYBOSTON
~D.B. Guy, 12/17/11
Nov 3, 2012
Nov 3, 2012 at 3:35 AM UTC
***** comet
burning bile
physically sick of the party people—
dull as a broken record
with the same disdainful faces
that leave me screaming ALCOHOL
just to taste anything but bland conversation
and sugar-glazed eyes.
i'm used to fishing for compliments
beneath the **** of society's pond
waiting for someone to swim along
and take the bait
but it's the tragedy of the commons, babe-
everybody's doing it
and there aren't enough good fish left over
to keep me
satisfied.
Jun 24, 2012
Jun 24, 2012 at 11:13 AM UTC
death is coming, it is a dark point on the horizon
it will be here, sooner than expected, the planet is dying
why are you preparing for a future, the future
why are you denying it is happening, sticking your head in the sand
going about, living carefree, when your children will suffer, millions will die
do you need a quatrain, a burning bush, to see the horror racing towards us
nostradamus didn’t see it, but we did, like a slow train wreck
the air will burn your lungs, the oceans scald your flesh
by the time you react, you will have reached the point of no return
your children are an army of dead men walking
their bodies catching up to their environmental fate
it is too late to cry, it is time to die
what will we do, how will we choose, who lives, who perishes
your cozy lives will disintegrate in social chaos as individual fight for survival
our former rules and norms will vanish, as the strong and ruthless vanquish
you will witness horrors, etched into your mind, re-dreamt every night
scream and cry, it could have been avoid, such is the tragedy of the commons
complacency of the masses, mass graves of the innocent
gods will die, civilizations will fall, as you huddle, shaking in a dark corner
May 12, 2019
May 12, 2019 at 12:01 PM UTC
Quiet flows the Brahmaputra
But violent and angry at times
At the ruthless manner in which
The man destroys the nature...
Quiet flows the Brahmaputra
But angry and turbid below
At the greed and arrogant manner in which
They carry out "development"
Quiet flows the Brahmaputra
But sad and lost
at the poor lives and livelihoods lost
At the hands of the rich who creates the catastrophes
Quiet flows the Brahmaputra
But helpless and depressed
At the ignorance and stubborn attitude
Of the people who aren't willing to learn from their mistakes.
Quiet flows the Brahmaputra
Sometimes overflowing and destructive
Time and again, to teach the humanity a lesson
In not learning from the past, learning from their mistakes
Because, history repeats itself..
And we are suffering today at the hands of the
People who are not creating a welfare state
But extracting, extorting, exploiting the commons
And the common people
To the benefit of a few, arrogant, "smart" rich...
There is something wrong somewhere..
Unless we learn ...
Unless we change...
We get what we deserve...
So if we need a change..
Let's change first ourselves..
Our action, Our decisions, Our choices...
There is nobody to blame..but ourselves...
It is not enough we give our choices
Once in five years ...
And then blame everybody else
For what we get out of our choice...
Quiet flows the Brahmaputra
He is a teacher, a friend, a father (and a mother)..
A brother, and a God (if there is one)...
Let us learn from him, the nature...
Quiet flows the Brahmaputra
So magnificent and great..
Angry at times..Destructive at times...
Still the lifeline of the people
Quiet flows the Brahmaputra.
Jun 1, 2018
Jun 1, 2018 at 12:08 AM UTC
Pity you didn’t stay away
Shame you came and didn’t stay
Pain, a boomerang, it goes both ways
You’re gonna have to learn today
I told you to run
Away from the sun
Pity you had to lose it all
Shame no one picked up your call
Painful desire to drop the ball
You’re gonna have to take the fall
I told you to run
I’m not the one
Pity you didn’t fear the flames
Shame you hadn’t learned my name
Paintings of every life I’ve claimed
You’re gonna have to lose this game
I told you to run
A girl is a gun
-
A Girl Is A Gun by Ines Rose is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
Dec 28, 2017
Dec 28, 2017 at 10:34 PM UTC
Most people don’t know
That two halves don’t necessarily make a whole
Half a shoe plus half a butter knife makes something
infinitely more useless than either halves alone.
Or it makes something much more interesting
But still, whatever it is—it is not whole.
Most people want more
Than only half of things
I wonder: is it greed or just a desire for completion
And if something is complete, is it also whole?
And if someone were to search for long enough,
would they find the missing half to everything?
Unstructured Musings by Nicola Em is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 12:31 PM UTC
If there’s one thing that unifies you and me, it’s heartbreak
If you’ve never experienced it to the fullest, you’ve seen it somewhere.
On your favorite tv shows, that song on the radio, on the girl’s face at the bar
On your lover’s face when you walk out the door the last time
And when you do feel it for the first time, you’ll want to be alone but please don’t be alone
You’ll want to bottle it up but
that’s a breakdown at work waiting to happen
That’s crying to his friends
That’s calling him after 1am, knowing he isn’t asleep yet
That’s driving by his apartment and holding your breath
That’s feeling like your hometown isn’t yours anymore, it’s a place you used to be with him
It’s feeling like the seasons are taunting you of when you were in love
The first fall of snow is the feeling of his hug
The lighting of the tree reminds you of warm cups of coffee on the couch
You dread New Year’s Eve because only 365 days ago, you danced with him in the street as the clock struck midnight
It’s knowing you will dance alone this year
You don’t look at your body the same way. You know how he saw it and you don’t see the beauty he did anymore
Your face doesn’t look like yours, it’s the one he used to hold in his hands
like a sparking jewel
He could marvel forever
I know he’s the first thing you think of when you wake up alone
And he wakes up next to her
Something that used to feel so concrete has been pummeled to dust
and now you’re left to scatter the ashes
So you drive by, the commons, the bbq joint, the movie theater, the lighthouse, the coffee shops, the all night diners, the book shops, the arcades, the antique stores, all the places you’ve made memories together
But please toss your heartache out the driver’s side window as you pass his apartment
because now it’s the only thing you two have in common
Dec 26, 2017
Dec 26, 2017 at 4:49 PM UTC
The day sneaks up behind me
Telling me my time has come
Time to leave behind all that I've worked for
Knocking on every door
Begging for a chance at life
I'm leaving and I have one wish
Don't forget me when I leave
Don't forget me when I fall into the emptiness
Don't forget me when I try to escape what consumes me
My time has come to say goodbye
My flight to the heavens has arrived
Survived the battle of life for so long
Everyday closer to the loss of this everlasting battle
Don't know if my imprints in this life will last forever
I'm leaving and I have one wish
Don't let me drift away into the nothingness of the forgotten
Don't let me fade into a memory
Don't let me be lost amongst the commons
I came and I made my mark
Used my dreams to light way out of the dark
Wanna be remembered as more then just a common man
Want people to give a **** about me when I leave this cage
Don't want to be recieved into the hands of the unmourned
Don't want to spend eternity feeling forlorn
I'm leaving and I have just one wish
Don't let me turn into a torn page from a notebook
All I have in this world means nothing when I'm gone
I don't want all that you have of me to be just another memory
Want my story told for all to hear
So I can rid myself of this fear
I'm leaving and I have just one wish
Don't leave me in this cage lingering in the dark space in the back of your mind
Don't wanna be lost for no one to find
Getting tired of being left behind
Stepped up on this plateau
Up here for the world to see
That this is me and I won't be forgotten
Won't be forgotten
I'm leaving this world and I have just one wish
One wish
Don't forget me
Don't forget me
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 2:35 AM UTC
(Authors note: I realize this is more short story than poem. I hope you find it poetic as well. Apologies in advance if this is not an appropriate forum.)
Have You Seen This Girl ?
I sat sleepy eyed one morning enduring yet another cardboard and treebark bran flavored bowl of breakfast with milk, 2 percent of course, and I stared at the carton.
First I reviewed the measures of various fat content, and nutritional values listed as a matter of law. And as usual, I thought of you. This time by way of pondering the plight of the American Dairy Farmer and remembering it was the “corporatizing” of the independent dairy farms which led your family to other uses for the land they had raised dairy cows on for over a century. And I missed you terribly.
To quickly shake the associated feelings of loneliness, and your face from my mind, I was drawn to the deep dark eyes of the child who was missing and apparently exploited on the other side of the carton. She had innocent, kind eyes that indicated she wouldn't even harm an insect. Curious eyes that would watch an insect for hours as it munched on grasses and leaves she fed it.
She would be two years grown and two years older since last seen in blue jeans and a t-shirt in Amarillo, Texas, in the company of her biological father who was possibly armed, dangerous, and driving a pickup truck towards Mexico. Or Canada.
And it struck me. You needed to be on the side of a milk carton. 2 percent of course. At some point in our life together, you had been kidnapped. Whoever was responsible had gone to a lot of trouble to replace you, to carefully drop you right back into my life. It was a great attempt but finally my belief that the real you would never do the things you did to me were validated. You had the misfortune of actually having an “evil twin” and corporatized or not, it seemed only the Dairy Council could help, since there is no Center For Missing and Exploited Adults.
Big red letters screaming “Have You Seen This Girl ? ” were what we needed now. God knows I had recent photos, and could describe all of your features-distinguishing or not.
I think tomorrow, I'll have French Toast.
Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License. Based on my work at www.emotionalorphan.net.
Dec 11, 2009
Dec 11, 2009 at 9:13 PM UTC
I am a gorilla,
I am an ape.
And I’m trying to escape
This Golden Cage of youthful age,
I grace myself with the withering ineptitude
Of a penguin in commons.
I have the ambition of a pumpkin at Halloween,
That wants nothing more, than to be lit from the inside.
But my fiery breath is nothing more than whiskey
And cigarettes,
A lose regret of swollen knuckles,
Reminiscent of the iron age, I’m blowing off steam.
But it’s only condensed water on the inside of these windows.
Where the lights are off and there’s no one home.
Steve left me on the edge of moon rock,
A town that missed the stars of the night when they looked to sun,
So I sit playing ****
Puffed out like a swan but,
I’m all neck.
I wear a leek with pride and Yes,
I am a dragon on match days,
With claws and shrills, and right I’m sky high,
Cutting through your fluffy clouds, soft and weak.
Copper clad in pennyworth jeans I never chose.
Flaws that will be the floor for me,
Because in my town we never heard of stepladders,
We reach for the sky by climbing hills on tip toes.
Mountains we made with mole hills
My mother wont let go.
With **** so deep even spuds wont grow.
Apologies like auburgines, may be good for you
But I don’t like the taste.
So I’ll continue to squash the marrow between my knuckles,
But you can go gaga if you want to,
Because, I was born this way.
Great pun.
Oct 10, 2012
Oct 10, 2012 at 7:01 PM UTC
Hey, baby
sing me a tongue lullaby
I’ll dance for you if you would like that.
Twirling along the lilt of your sounds
as you utter them syllable by syllable.
I find you in the darkness created
by the infinity of
whatever it is we feel and you sweep me
off my feet—literally—and fly with me
away inside the music you created.
By then it’s only you and me,
although it has been all along
and it’s your body
and it’s nobody; my body
Entwined in the kasbahs of eternity.
An Adaptation of a (Love?) Poem by Nicola Em is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 12:35 PM UTC
The Sorceress, Jacob's Most Beloved
she had eyes for me
I knew it
she knew it
man among boys
stare beguiling no accident
entrancement, entrapment,
of course, her eyes hid,
but knew it anyway, for
her warmth dripped into my body,
resting happily within my centre.
why not?
her sorcery, profound,
when she cast the words,
she cast them instantly
without human fore thought,
thus pleasing and being pleasing,
when her branded magi magic
home in other people's minds
did come to rest.
the spells cast
in and on me
own me as much
as I now am possessed,
and in possession of them,
though which is more powerful
is indeterminate,
for I am stained
either way.
in a quiet hamlet,
in an ancient thorp,
the lambs, white and happy
prance on the commons,
the El god's angel disguised,
fresh and unbroken,
I observe the only one,
spotted, stained, like me,
open hid on this earth.
bleating,
I am my beloved's,
and my beloved is mine,
mine very own sorceress.
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 4:39 AM UTC
the metallic crash
of cymbals
in the summer
august afternoons
working together
to make this
something
important
the deep, low rumble
of bass drums
in the band room
after school practice
trying to get our
bass drum splits
sound like
perfection
the vibrant, sharp ring
of tenors
along the track
marching ceaselessly
uniformity
is what we
came here
to master
the staccato snap
of snare drums
in the commons
the perfect ******
in the perfect roll
found nestled
within
the next try
the commanding yell
of major
tonight is it
we have been working
for weeks on end now
to make this
the best
it can be
one...
two...
dut, dut, dut, dut
our arms are screaming
after this
but this was
the best performance
we have ever done
so we cried
as we
were victors
Sep 22, 2010
Sep 22, 2010 at 5:36 PM UTC
It’s thought provoking
and emotion evoking
I feel like I’m choking, {Heimlich}
Truer words have never been spoken
by a dancing mime with only one leg.
Minds have reeled
Fates have been sealed
Unknowns become real
It’s a negotiated deal made by some lawyer with a soul.
Tragic, Comedy- Tragicomedy
Shipping-handling. As seen on TV.
What’s the cost of free ?
Nothing comes really, with a money back guarantee.
Wash, rinse, repeat.
Operators standing by- keep your seat.
Stay out of the kitchen if you can’t stand the heat.
And know your victory isn’t over defeat.
Miller time- the best time of year
But I’ll never need another beer,
My life’s so complete when using Tampax.
The latest miracle cure is as safe as anthrax.
Who has time these days for voting, when I feel the blight of bloating ?
There are no important politics or elections.
When I have four plus hour erections
but I bet my doctor won’t be the one I decide to consult.
>>>>>
Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Based on a work at www.emotionalorphan.net.
Oct 1, 2009
Oct 1, 2009 at 1:49 PM UTC