"comradery" poems
I abuse words verbally like my voice is Bobby and the dictionary Whitney/
Like a literary hyperbole properly arranged to explain this deranged brutality perfectly/
Force the English language to work for me like a particularly dark time in history/
Optimistically take the tongue twister trickery and aggressively attack a vocabulary vocally and personally/
Not physically but a barrage on your psyche, almost psychedelically/
Use words medically, like a surgeon I expertly plant thoughts whispered softly but assertively/
Moving letters like chess pawns to express thoughts masterfully and creatively/
Gruesomely grotesque but gorgeous thoughts written down beautifully/
You can't help but hear the perplexity of mythoticly placed words with comradery/
An oddity with the audacity to raise the bar and up the capacity/
Because what comes out of me has to be exactly what you see because it is me/
Not just a part of me but all of me/
I'm not a fallen tree sitting in the forest silently, quietly all by my lonely/
It's just the opposite actually and factually/
I will attack with a dialect so violent you violently retract causing you to react cowardly automatically/
I don't even have to lift a pinky, leave it stinky/
Let my words linger there in the air like **** smoke, thick and sticky/
Periodically come back to peek and see if you've figured out the mystery and found the key/
One that'll decipher decisively what it is that I've let out of me and spread to all humanity/
I could never have planned it, see, it had to happen naturally, organically if you will/
And not to build it up falsely but I honestly, back then, didn't have the ***** to let it out of me and it cost me considerably/
So now this mastery I hold of word delivery bestowed to me gets jotted down feverishly/
With an intensity equal to none inside of this ******* century, can't censor me/
Got a consistency that forces me to constantly cross the border of insanity repeatedly/
Time only to watch my talents as they literally wither away for all of eternity/
Such a tragedy to see such agony but please, no apology brought on by sympathy/
Just let me be as I drift farther out to sea to a place you'll never see/
To let these words mold me into someone you could never be/
©2018
Apr 6, 2018
Apr 6, 2018 at 4:00 AM UTC
Black
A thumping heartbeat
Distant vocal sounds
Then light and love
Dependency
Curiosity
Communication
Joy
Creativity
Education
Awe
Respect
Disrespect
Comradery
Individualism
Tribalism
Recklessness
Lust
Love
Heartbreak
Hopelessness
Soul searching
Understanding
Trust
Empathy
Maturity
Desire
Love
Babies
Selflessness
Responsibility
Nurture
Wonder
Teaching, endless teaching
Let go
Let go
Let go
Review
Regret
Reinvent
Rediscover
Relive through grand kids
Leave your mark
Not a stain
Your life ends it's final wane
Then humbly...
back to
Black
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 9:34 AM UTC
The light
Above me is on
And I'm lonely
Outside a plastic bag
Blows in a hard wind
Like an empty hand waving at me
And I'm lonely
Once there were names
That meant something more
Than their names
And I think of this
And I'm lonely
I see the hallway light flash on
As a passerby walks down the hallway stairs
Wondering where they're going
And I'm lonely
I push the button
It takes me downstairs
I lift the glass
It takes me - for a moment - away from here
And the stars burn out
And I'm lonely
Seven lights hover outside my window in squares
One goes out
Another turns on
And I'm lonely
Poorly painted golden window latches
React to the warm wind outside the same as I
A sense that all will be changing soon
And I'm lonely
Where do the lonely go, when there is truly no one?
Some go mad with work, drink, ****** and drugs
Other's with family, social circles, and religion
I outside the hyena's circle who are devouring the decayed
And I'm lonely
Funds for overseas prose panics me
I see no end for I have experienced no beginning
Allow me to view the rules
Digest them and give me time to recover
Noon strikes a silent chord prickling the hair upon my arm
And I'm lonely
There are four lights on now outside my window
One with the blinds drawn
The other lit only by the grey blue glare of a television set
Meeting midnight brings me none of the old
Feelings of dusty comradery or delinquent joy
And I'm lonely
Three more lights
There is hope
They are gone after only a shutter of a tease
Back to the comfortable four
The death of a Winter spent in discontent
And I'm lonely
On a hillside I rested
Alone with thoughts of her
What I knew then
I know now
Some days are meant for rain
And I'm lonely
Parted by facts dealing with science and faith
Love became an issue immediately
There are only two rules in Love
One does or one does not
And I'm lonely
The night is neither setting nor rising
The moon hovers over me like a noose
Like a scythe
Like an ancient medieval axe
And I'm lonely
Only a single light on now
At the very top almost past my view
The wind is still blowing
The bag still waving
And all I am
Is lonely
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 4:32 PM UTC
The bookbag leans
on the aluminum column.
The column is blurry,
someone cleans it
only when their are inspections.
The bookbag has been sitting
collecting the sounds
that leave the Staten Island Ferry
by foot,
for God knows how long.
When you get off,
everyone looks ahead,
but out of the corners
an entire black sea of iris'
rotates to the aluminum column.
It might be a bomb.
The girl behind the Ms. Anne's counter
is skinny almost,
but her *** is too big,
almost.
Munching on the semi-soft pretzel,
you think about empty calories
and the corners of your mouth get sticky.
The Ferry won't be back,
for another thirty or so
minutes.
Somebody takes out a guitar,
and starts playing
a little Dylan. People
form a circle around him.
This is the American Pow-wow.
You reach in your breastpocket
for the Marlboros,
but you can't smoke here,
and an official looking person
squints at you,
just to drive the point home.
******* smoking laws,
some places just feel good.
This place with all it's ringy sounds,
like the guitar,
and phones beeping with texts
and babies,
deep fathers,
and high mothers.
Just to puff and puff
and push that sugar down
with nicotine would really
up this feeling of comradery.
A guy with a gold-plated shield
on his breastpocket and a blue-button down.
Walks over to the bag.
The iris' move,
people keep talking but
they're just saying words
to make it look like they're talking.
By the time the ferry
rings in baritone,
the bag is gone;
the column is still blurry;
the man is still playing his guitar,
but there's an emptiness.
Nov 17, 2011
Nov 17, 2011 at 8:58 PM UTC
I still can hear the drifting cars
and burnouts in my ears.
feels like it was just yesterday
where red lights lasted years
skies were full of rubber--smoked,
sun was cold and hot
a yesterday from months before
I couldn't have forgot
I feel your hand collapsing mine,
the jokes and many laughs
comradery amongst the rain,
perfume, cologne, race gas
I just had slipped up days before
and told you my heart fell
sun set and woke, so many jokes,
cars ran parallel.
a yesterday I won't forget,
you took my hands in yours
the sun hiding behind the clouds
few raindrops on our pores
while pistons move in cylinders
two cars line up somewhere
crankshafts like jacks in boxes,
and wind blows through our hair
you looked at me like time was lost
while friends sat watching speed
my heart beat faster than the
boosted car that I heard lead
surrounded by our favorite things
a few people that we knew
I saw a smile fill your eyes
when you said "I love you."
Oct 16, 2015
Oct 16, 2015 at 12:09 PM UTC
I get too deep in my own emotions, I never even attempt to try and bring myself back because I know that when I’m depressed they just become delusions. It’s simple to say that friendship can keep you sane but honestly, it’s the comradery the keeps me sheltered in an uncomfortable silence. Hearing about the pleasures someone can indulge in makes my heart break, then to hear them complain about the small demons they face in life just simply makes it hard to agree with their outlooks when I’ve seldom ever seen my happiness at its peak. It’s hard to think of them outside of our time together when almost every moment of my time is hard to fabricate. I love them but sometimes it feels like I have to liquidate and make my escape before I create a situation where I will negate the comfort I’ve created with them, it’s so hard not to express the feeling to leave.
Sep 6, 2015
Sep 6, 2015 at 3:48 PM UTC
She slouched against the smoke stained wall
Her skeleton hands both trembled
She sighed heavily with effort
Then emptied another stiff drink
This was not the place to mention
But she revealed her affliction
Then shooed away further questions
Acting startled and offended
She knows I am familiar
With obsession and starvation
And the resolve to self-destruct
For never being good enough
But I witnessed devastation
Then I resolved to keep living
Or at least to keep on trying
A death’s not worth its weight in grief
Now I can't just shake this from her
Reorganize her scrambled mind
Retract my own comradery
And convince her she will be fine
So dangles her mortality
In faces of those surrounding
Watching us plead desperately
While she starves something worth feeding
Nov 22, 2013
Nov 22, 2013 at 2:18 AM UTC
Should’ve listened to those didactic tales,
those voluptuous sores, like vines in the heart,
those tantrums and those fits of ‘can’t get enough’,
should’ve played a lil nicer,
should’ve loved a lil harder,
this truth was never pragmatic, baby,
never concentrated, fixated, never stifled, appreciated,
never what you wanted to feel,
but, babe, it was always real
in your eyes and mine,
‘guess you never thought this time
I would actually walk away,
diluted, squeezed out, filtered to a drip,
your hackneyed fibs
burn me more,
dissected into tears,
you planted all of these fears
in my conditioning
with your temperamental code,
hypocrite –hypocrite –hypocrite,
corruption in this affair,
still ain’t playing fair,
but why am I surprised?
tripped into a hole of utter depravity,
shaking in those wet boots of bull-fucking-shit,
I’m so ****** off with this I could spit!
Or, I could quit you entirely –
comradery broken,
revoking that affection in me
that has been stuck on you,
Nov 8, 2011
Nov 8, 2011 at 10:53 PM UTC
Sun dust haze
an old wooden door
I reach, locked
handles, hands
pressed splintering
knock,
The newspaper reads EVACUATION NECCESARRY
Exasperation of the lilting seed of sanity;
the clocks unaligned to my watch
the fridge has been off for days
milk curdled, cheese hardened
this Panadol, IbuProfen parachute me
down, codeine
hits me hard upon the ground
the fireplace surrounds
a dragon breathing flames out of our mouths
and the room is no longer hot;
it is supernova.
Stars sound like songbirds outside, shooting,
gargled gin smells like grace,
erase
the drone of Arab spring
the scent of comradery
for a security station
computational bastion;
calculus of reason,
reputation, family, existential crisis
lets circumnavigate
to the window ,
reality split by liquid,
a rainbow in the sea,
children dancing beneath the Pohutakawa tree
“Hello?”
“Hello, were you here all along?”
“Long enough to see
those purple hues of your dressing gown, you
standing aimless across the room,
you came here today too?”
“I didn’t really choose” balloons, still tied to the ceiling
pop
“I must go”
“Stop”
ground dissolves, glass
mirrors, present, past
pop
“take my hand
lets watch the angels carry the sun away”
Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 2:57 PM UTC
ablaze
with
horror,
disbelief,
hopeless grief
&
anger
waves of emotion trigger
compassion of comradery
displayed in nothing but
the simplicity of love.
Oh!
what dawn of terror
on
Grenfell
Jun 17, 2017
Jun 17, 2017 at 2:53 AM UTC
Poverty,
The losing end of a lottery
Forced to sustain a thread bare society
Manufacture a rivalry
But first get 'em use to seeing it on TV
Cosplay as naturally
There goes the humanity
Can't find neighborly
No comradery
Acceptance the oddity
Just, "single file please" to the factory
Talk back and be privy
To the reality of free
Copy, paste, delete, recopy
The definition of insanity
The loss in every "VICTORY!"
Is plain to see
But the pillow mints are complimentary
Subdued easily
Simply
Like smoke to a bee
The screen hides the real you and me
Dec 29, 2024
Dec 29, 2024 at 3:54 PM UTC
My mind goes for a smoke before my body does.
It becomes a pressure just like holding *** if I don't fulfill the mind's intention.
The heart is silenced and prepared for the intake of nicotine even though I haven't moved from my place.
The social joys, the buzz, and relief of smoking circulate through my mind.
My back tells me it will be comforted by smoking, just like a teenager asking for car keys.
The part of me who doesn't want to smoke is portrayed as an over-worried mother, over protecting this teen.
The male aspect that wants to stop smoking is decided as the empty insurance salesman simply concerned with the money.
In other words he is seen as fake.
Next, the Natives remind me that tobacco is a sacred tradition given by White Buffalo Calf Woman.
"It eases tention," She says.
I think about the people I've influenced to smoke, and how others influenced me too.
I think how much more healthy Chloe looks now that she's quit.
My hip muscles now tell me a smoke will relax them.
I'm reminded of the lack of care of minorities by those who don't smoke.
I'm reminded of smoking comradery.
Of Native society centered on the pipe.
A tattoo of my newfound math problems: R^n.
And with this one distraction, all these thoughts of smoking combine and say: "okay, let's go smoke" as if tugging at my seat.
Yet I tie myself to my seat, I theory anyway.
Smoke or sleep? They try the either or question.
I'm staying up for another 11 minutes.
What will happen?
The friendliness of Nic does it to me again.
Mar 3, 2021
Mar 3, 2021 at 7:41 AM UTC
My Self is rooted in a larger city than mine.
My Self is rooted in male comradery.
My Self falls into a group. The group isn't universal for all my traits though.
Thus comradery isn't a universal attribute in this sense.
However, if I feel I need comradery, and I'm not in familiar surroundings, I can shift to a reality of the oneness of humanity, where all share the same home.
Feb 7, 2021
Feb 7, 2021 at 3:07 PM UTC
Garibaldi with a hot tub
Dear friends and chilled drinks
As we celebrate another harvest in the books
And the comradery shared
The double dozen produced
Like nobody’s business
Leaving with a bumper and the potential
To fast forward two years of payments
Another Baileys and ice for me, thanks
Soft footfalls in the hallway
Another flavor to savor the way that your
Grandmother asked you to chew longer
In the autumn on the veranda…. Or whatever:
I crack the jar and am met with a blast
Fresh smelling, properly cured,
Green, and beautiful
Did I mention effective?
we puff and pass and laugh
sharing these moments of triumph
enjoying each other’s company
on a clear and cool night
along the Oregon Coast –
Nov 5, 2015
Nov 5, 2015 at 10:32 AM UTC
Twin birds,
Each with a different song
On the same branch
Twin birds,
One white, the other black
Both the same beak
Twin birds,
Face each other with comradery
each with wings
Can fly to a different tree
But choose to stay
Oct 14, 2015
Oct 14, 2015 at 7:43 PM UTC
When we chase the sun,
Perhaps we are only evading,
Attempting to elude our shadows,
Our effervescent friends.
Why would we run,
From such,
...Comradery...
...Consistency...
A unique, eternal moment,
Unconditional affection.
Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 2:58 AM UTC
I joust myself into jovial life
Jocose tatterdemalion and stygian salaciousness
Umbrage abrogating merit like swamping locusts
The mammoth chip on shouldered kids starving for life
I'm waiting on purgatory, and I'll wait for you with knives out
Cemetry of the artist stubbed beards and pubescence in the Phoenician Lands
He said she should have left the house
Tomahawks can still cut the vineyard, make my loquacity into beer-tap poetry
Flowery, murmur, kumbaya, kalimba de la soul and all thoughts aside
You're hoping music brings the song to my speechless heart
Your dance sounds light the motionless night, only the tapping of starry footsteps
Hob-nobs, more and more, knobs of heaven's doors open to every hippie with angel hair
Crossing the wires of substrates
Sonatas and partitas can be lugubrious, yet, elegantly examined
Nocturnes, from the centuries
Of ten old centurions
Came down to the Colosseum
Gladiator enthralled the chariots of fire
I was with ten ants, burning under the microscope
Tenants of this Roman Empire
Fighting for your rights
Fighting for the people who cannot fight
For the weak, requires peace and understanding
Shiny, homeless people lost the soul to the drugs and marijuana smoke under streetlamps stretching to infinity
This earth is an orchard of flowers
Slightly plump in the middle, it's mother nature
Not zaftig, it has latitudes and longitudes
Lavish life, garish fiefdom, stretches across the bent imagination of perverse minds
Looking for a kiosk in the peak of red skies that do not know blood and aggravation
New Year's Day, the cyka cry Mother Russia and SOS
Shooting flares into the sky
To reach so low, and to reach so high
Shouting slogans, written by the poets
Passion, prejudice, sensibility, comradery these are metiers of poets
Secrets strewed across the bloodless sky
Wishful thinking tantamount to head in the clouds
The clouds have different shapes and size, the fire of the greater existence lends us words in thoughts
Aug 21, 2019
Aug 21, 2019 at 1:01 PM UTC
In a forest
My heart is a thrumming drum
in a symphony of silence.
There is peace in the trees
within the
natural beauty
of a forest in its prime.
Just the forest and I
together and loved
restful and free.
Safety amongst the foliage
has another name
too.
It crackles at my feet
watching the comradery
of the voiceless giants.
My own platoon
is none.
The forest keeps me from
being utterly
hopelessly
alone.
Everyone has enemies
No exception am I.
Mine lies behind my eyes
a friend-fearing demon
accepting only
naturally towering mutes.
Trees can't reject me
humans can.
I walk to feign fearlessness
No one needs know
I stay alone
of not strength
but
terror.
Oct 31, 2016
Oct 31, 2016 at 11:11 AM UTC
I live in my head
In another world
A world full of magic
Full of mystery
Full of adventure
A world with kings
Good and bad
Courageous and cowardly
I live in my head
In another world
A world with friends
A tight knit group
A family to lean on
A world of happiness
With laughter
With inside jokes
I live in my head
In another world
A world of love
With comradery
With protection
A world I never want to leave
It's everything I ever wanted
It's everything I ever needed
I live in another world
That has become my home
Jun 16, 2018
Jun 16, 2018 at 2:11 PM UTC
Sitting atop a high mountain trail
Considering the wind and sun
Looking down upon the Cascade foothills
The patchwork of clearcutting and trees
A forest wide checkboard of man’s desire
To forever control and capitalize on nature
I wonder of this is the way with man, his nature
To blaze the wilderness and cut his own trail
Curse over his shoulder at the true god, the sun
Think only of commerce when overlooking the foothills
While taking the minerals, the animals, and the trees
To placate his own insatiable desire
What is it that feeds this desire
To conquer and control nature
What makes a man think about cutting a trail
While working in the midday sun
Is it the need to explore the foothills
A need to own all of the trees
I look in my yard at the trees
I like them, but I feel no desire
No overwhelming need to rule nature
I walk back down the dog trail
They have cut in my yard while playing in the sun
Here at the base of the foothills
I am a part of these foothills
One with the trees
I am filled with a strong desire
To recognize my comradery with nature
Forging my own, new trail
And feeling on my face the warmth of the sun
I sat on the mountain in the summer sun
Overlooking the Cascade foothills
Near me a hawk sat in a snagged tree
Neither of us felt a longing of desire
Just the need to be there surrounded by nature
I gathered my things and headed down the trail
Is it really man’s nature to be locked in such an unhealthy desire?
Do we need to take every tree from the Cascade foothills?
In the sun, I thought these things, as I walked the trail…
Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 5:11 PM UTC