"concessions" poems
there’s a barnacle scar
deeply ingrained
on the basalt stack
at mark thirty two
whispering summer winds
scented oil
cotton and roe
drift
as waves brush
and shape
the sandstone shore
the briny air
and lost erratic
set a tone to this
pollyanna portrait
it's andrews undulations
and gifted benches
its concessions
and traces of the barry burn
its sculpted driftwood
and sanko lines
make this picture
almost perfect
children play
as venom spews
from the caterwaul pair
those odd looking mates
casting smiles
with arrested despair
settling shots
swiping bugs
dipping and darting
as photo men
and muscles
and long neck seabirds
make their turn
the hunched hoody
and his sorted sidekick
get their fill
(of moss and rubble ~ chubby and kelp)
nice to meet your acquaintance
the pho man would say
an odd drop
and ironic turn
from those horrific corners
of timeless desperation
down by cannon bridge
harbor seals
and carriage horse
are fronted by
raven shade
jolly tides pause
in quiet bays
(with curious looters
and *** pickers)
sand merchants
and field totems
all streamed by the light
cirrus strands
blanket the
outer edge
hovering craft
and shimmering willows
bolt the evening frame
blood orange
and tethered
with a filtered glare
bottle-nose dolphins
and seabirds
(and shifting tides)
are all settling in
for the long night stay
Mar 9, 2017
Mar 9, 2017 at 11:21 PM UTC
mirrored fly-glass
and polished chrome
are tinted
in the blood orange dawn
running dogs of lummi
hush quiet
on this celestial
summer morn
clubman bars
and tan saddles
strapped to
the lowered hind
skull caps
and fitted chaps
for the open flow
and rich peripheral scene
concessions at the peace arch
(from the blue-coat fuzz)
black *****
and maples
cake the bow hill
and chuckanut
choppers launch
at edison
(with their metal fleck
and tuft)
a half moon rises
on the concho
and interstellar cross
cinnamon gulls
and ravens
scour the netted docks
warlock driftwood
and row homes
spot the winding
coastal roads
rumbling sounds
at the packer slew ~
with the redolence
of briny bay
alive
on the overlook
at fairhaven
Nov 18, 2017
Nov 18, 2017 at 5:55 PM UTC
Manning up in Texas
Geldof overdose
needles at the bed stand
starlet comatose
California dreaming
killer meets demise
hurling in a taxi
puke fee on the rise
Fighting in the Gaza
Jordan's holy war
rebels on a mission
Jihad underscore
The North Korean riddle
pales in grand design
crisis on the border
planes fall from the sky
Cooking on a deadline
tempting tapenades
herbs are in the spotlight
wines that give a nod
Google maps the body
DOW at record highs
Uber comes to market
corn is on the rise
Apple on its earnings
Caterpillar dead
European sanctions
banks have **** the bed
Clippers threaten boycott
Longhorns follow purge
Lynch is out of training camp
James is on the verge
Leinart taking *** shots
coughing up a lung
lions take a licking
fans are throwing dung
Another day in Vegas
Primm from A-Z
rolling out an ankle
a flying SUV
Quiet tempting spaces
made better by design
multi color pea coat
silence fuels the mind
Stabbing in the subway
goat caught in a well
apes are selling tickets
(but leave behind a smell)
Puberty on trial
a man without a head
teachers feel alone
lets take them to the shed!
Jonah's tomb destroyed
wreckage in Mumbai
Sugar Daddy sites
Freedom 85
The immigrant debate
Russia's mounting toll
unions on a mission
heads are gonna roll
Beaches for the nudists
hotels on the cheap
the best generic brands
a list you have to keep!
Planning your estate
questions from the camp
a mansion up for sale
where once they filmed The Champ
Midwives threaten action
aboriginal act
truckers want concessions
that train has left the track
Sharks are found in Fundy
a prized but perilous catch
food we love to hate the most
an irrefutable batch
A family on the brink
I want my kids to fail!
politicians drains all hope
a ban on Israel
Follow out each headline
let the columns be your guide
all these things did happen
the day that Newhouse died
Aug 2, 2017
Aug 2, 2017 at 10:29 AM UTC
I encourage you to abandon your faith
imagine the uncondonable
do the unpardonable
and rest in the arms of father mountain
I encourage you to go beyond your thoughts
appeal to your animalistic self
let go of your inhibitions
and tear me up in bed
I encourage you to try the impossible
reach the corners of your body
where pleasure is indigenous
where there will never be colonization
I encourage you to learn a new language
to not be patriotic
and worship your own flesh
resist majoritarian temptation
and dig an altar to yourself
I encourage you to love me
without strings, with no chains,
corral me, make me struggle,
and deep your soul within my veins
love me whole
sin fragmentations
love me across borders
without concessions
with negotiations
and complications
I encourage you to love.
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 2:59 AM UTC
I happen to live in Central Indian-
Forests, I collect wood and honey
And have no idea about English woods
And Manchester clothes, I belong
To the soil, I’m anti national?
I live on concessions, subsidies
And support, And You call me-
‘Dark skinned untouchable’; today
I don’t have bells over my neck
I’m proud of me, I’m anti national?
I always spoke of empowerment,
Marx and Che run my blood and
I’m a utopian reality to you
But you cannot ignore my voice
I’m not outdated, I’m anti national?
I believe in ‘being human’ above all-
Traits, I live beyond geographies
And I cannot stand war and bloodshed
You brand me as an activist, I’m
Just humane, I’m anti national?
I do not belong to the 80% of our
Country’s population, but I’m as
Much a patriot as you, My God
Is same as yours, How am I an
Alien? I’m anti national?
I don’t believe in the power and safety
You claim with a nuclear reaction.
I see only explosions and devastation
I want my children to be safe, I love
The world, I’m anti national?
I don’t like vegetables, I eat meat-
Since birth. I will not force-feed you,
I respect your choice and I expect you
To be tolerant to what I cook-
At my home, I’m anti national?
I’m not Pakistani but I love them
As much I love an American or an
European. After all, we share
Our borders. I want to settle all
Disputes, I’m anti national?
I married a man outside my tribe,
Love didn’t notice his 'official tribe',
Our children are a mixed tribe
And we celebrate life as it is,
We’re human-tribe, I’m anti national?
I stand with them with rainbow flags,
They deserve justice as much as you
And me. Give me one valid reason to
Call them unnatural? I want S377
To be scrapped, I’m anti national?
I celebrate my country’s diversity,
I don’t need your certificate to prove
My patriotism! This is India, I stand
With my constitution and its democracy
And I give a **** about what you think!
Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 9:21 AM UTC
From nation to nation
All around the world
The Ruling Class
Though many times outnumbered
By the rest
Sit bathing in the sun
In their Ivory Towers:
Born to Richness
Whilst millions of Poor
Just starve to death.
Hordes and hordes of people,
Without clean water
Or food
Or a stable roof over their heads.
No medicine, or Education, or Anything
That Costs.
Governments give “Aid” to other governments
To “feed the poor”,
But we all know what happens…
What we need is a “Government of The World”,
Or some Benevolent Despot to Rule us all.
Anything must be better
Than the impotent UN
Or these shambolic “nations” –
Puppets of Globalisation.
Revolution threatens –
It often does –
Until the rulers appease us
With token concessions
And brainwash us
Though The Media,
So called “Education”
And Religious Dogma.
When will we learn?
Where is Democracy and Love?
But, bound by Political Correctness,
Woe betide if we Complain.
The Cold War continues,
So all we can do
Is soldier on
For The Common Good.
Paul Butters
Jan 16, 2017
Jan 16, 2017 at 9:15 AM UTC
When i first moved in
all i was to hear
was,
Ladies don’t drink out of the toilet.
Ladies don’t drink out of the toilet!
Come on now,
ladies don’t drink out of the toilet.,
and YOU are a Lady.
The things we do,
how we acquiesce,
the concessions we make,
to keep the gravy train rolling,
moving along.
A place to bunk,
a soft pillow for your head.
So we do.
The bunkmate stays so happy,
smiling &
relaxed,
and finally gets
off of your back.
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 8:02 AM UTC
Of Mice and Men
The mice in Belgium do not eat fine chocolate
They scoff at imported Swiss cheese
And have only contempt for a left- over bacon burgers,
they feast on plans of roads and buildings
I blame EU for this the mice have bureaucratic
And go through stacks of programs especially those
About repairing tunnels and roads
Bureaucrats of any hue are working overtime
Try keeping up this losing battle against mice
So many cars choking up the roads Islamists
Have to go to Paris when blowing up people.
The British demand for special concessions will
not last long the mice will see to that.
Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 2:21 PM UTC
born of blood
from a thorn
of a beautiful flower
from the love
of the horned
adorned
in power
cowering
in the vicious
maliciousness
of the constituents
in the deliverance
to my ridiculousness
saw
twisted shapes
and contorting faces
heard
blurred words
displaced
in hateful slurs
of aggression
and i cannot count the cases
in my tasteless confessions
in my reluctant concessions
in my brutal perfection
of my obsessions
imposed against my will
you're supposed to feel
what they do
right?
opposed to killing
for the thrill
but it sometimes
just feels right
shanky gone unscrupulous
shivering
his shimmied
blood on the walls
stuttering stanleys
still silly stringing
calling for candy
but missed last call
and fell to the floor
as Bruno butchered the boar
in a deplorable fashion
a crime of passion
we were hungry
rubbing our tummies
for the honey
of bee hives
jive turkeys
turning to bunnys
for good times
but we were alive
while others were not
fraught with darkling majesty
sparkling at the seraded points
disjointed
in Freudian
ointments
self anointed
as god
standing over
some butchered
brod from abroad
wiping the fog
of dislodged
eye sockets
from my grog
how you get
from there to here
isn't really a fair mirror
on my intention
i meant to
suspend her
just enough
to face f--k
and with luck
strangle her
but she prayed to be ripped down
in her own way
my f--king way
stripped her
of dignity
wimpering
in little cute sounds
who am i?
but the guy
who spaced
hit her
too many times in the face
and replaced her
facelessness
with ***** toiletries
disappointingly
underwhelmed
still in search of a fairy
to take the helm
and ferry me
from this film
disparagingly
just spare me
the tragedy and grief
blaring from the TV
as i mock
their expressions
in my lessons
of humanity
before the flock
to shelter
my anxiety or not
gonna be
a real boy one day
and conform
to the
wayward ways
the way
of sheep
sleeping
soundly
in decay
blue fairy
gonna
marry me
one
day
be
real
one
day
one
day
1
d
a
y
Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 4:52 PM UTC
salle de concert,
salle des corps transpirants & glissants
salle de semi à poil
comment tu t’appelles ?
champ de Mars,
champ des conneries & des concessions
champ de refus
tu m’avais manqué
coin de la rue,
coin de sms à la con
coin d’attente
ne m’appelle plus jamais
taxi de Paris
taxi de vulgarité
taxi de fatigue
je vous vire à cause de ces mots
taxi de St. Germain
taxi de Charonne
vous êtes lesbiennes?
taxi du vieux pervert
embrasse-moi juste une fois
nuit de jeudi
nuit de j’ai trop bu
nuit quotidienne
j’attends demain
Apr 26, 2013
Apr 26, 2013 at 3:36 AM UTC
this perpetual pattern. a thousand spreadsheets of the thing, draped unceremoniously about the furnishings of my mind. digits and symbols tapped into a machine to keep every schtick continually whirring. rare concessions of dumbfounded dazzle, no time or place for wonder. untidy notes, impure thoughts, callings from the mud--the whole deal, and yet i still hold my fancies. with careful introductions i can shut the monster down. it has dreams of its own, collected in dust, and when the time comes to sit out defeat they unfold in my lap like grotesque paper flowers
Apr 28, 2013
Apr 28, 2013 at 5:37 PM UTC
The algorithm we live in
has become the dumb
nightmare we’ve been given,
a constant flow of concessions,
sad contrivances to survive this
cog in the machine existence.
The fight seems pointless
with only minor bouts of resistance.
If history teaches us anything
it is only labor movements,
those unions that win men
woman and children
any real economic equality.
There won’t be any eulogy
for this lie we call democracy,
while men of prestige and property
have been constantly fighting
against those who bring the lightning
of enlightening insights about this fight.
Shrinking borders while expanding profits,
supporting fascists regimes,
whilst demolishing and reorganizing
governments that try socializing
their own country’s resources.
Our local war mongers
want to rehabilitate
the image that people hate
twist and change the slang,
rework and spin everything
over and over again
as the kings of what is truly Orwellian.
They are so close to destroying
the environment and
every human edifice,
every ounce of progress
in the name of
capitalistic measurements of success.
Jul 10, 2021
Jul 10, 2021 at 2:00 PM UTC
Oh, how we strut about the world
We, the civilized population
Unsatisfied until we've unfurled
Blankets of our cultivation
How proud we are of the machines
That gauge and plunder the earths crust
To farm by artificial means
Deemed by the "uncivilized" as unjust
The "uncivilized", those wayward tribes
That naively worship this blue globe
Need alcohol and such like prescribed
To adjust malfunctioning temporal lobes
Can they not observe our contentment
And our superior living standard
They squat and rant with some resentment
We are progressive, they have meandered
I wonder when those of tribal birth
Will mature and see we've got it right
And that their unkempt patch of earth
Will make a fine farm or building site
Or better still, once they're packing
Up their dwellings and possessions
We can begin some civilised fracking
With our governmental concessions
That's what separates us from them
I hope you have now realised
It is a government controlled by business
That makes us so very civilized
Jun 8, 2014
Jun 8, 2014 at 4:53 PM UTC
Are the Five Alive©
Can you see it through...
The fog
The smog
The mist
Can you smell it through...
The fear
The odors
The stench
Can you hear it through...
The noise
The racket
The chatter
Can you taste it through...
The spices
The flavors
The bland
Can you touch it through...
The pain
The sorrow
The concessions
If you’ve made it this far through
The gauntlet known as life
Take a bow for you are alive with the big five
Sight, smell, hearing, taste and feel are for real
Andreas Simic©
Oct 21, 2017
Oct 21, 2017 at 6:15 AM UTC
leave the tv on switching channels every minute
for something you have not seen,
then lose the remote somewhere in the bed,
now, you stuck on an infomercial for fulfilling
a need you did not know you were needing
play ka-glom, an older version,
of candy crush
while not watching tv,
but hearing the sounds as warmth, comforting
read poetry, write some,
trivial sit puff stuff,
like this or
stuff about suicide - argh
and every pandora ballad
rhymes with everyone sad
poet up to take a ****
visit the vast emptiness
of the refrigerator cause
you ate it all, and was
consumed thereby
The two concessions to
Pretend
is you leave her side of the bed
undisturbed
and the lights off
and when she calls
and asks how ya sleeping,
you say fine, for what else
can you say,
you already wrote
so exquisitely,
re life without her here,
sad mad bad
the boss knocks into your chair,
around three in the sleepy afternoon,
thinking
"that boy, what a party animal!"
ain't that the truth...
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 3:12 AM UTC
So generous, thou, in reticence,
To caste my cares adrift,
Wondrous diffidence displayed
In judging, now, this slight wind shift.
That tender touched acidity
In holding back thy scything hand,
But a lancing of my sentiments
Despite concessions planned.
Bloodstain on the balcony
Grey torment in the mind
To miss the symptoms here, my friend,
Those blue eye's would be blind,
To wade in waters visceral
Whilst smiling to the face
Suggests a mind incapable
Of compassion's gentle pace.
Let waters flow beneath the bridge
Let time caress the soul,
Let detail's mass minutiae
Bury ruffled thoughts of old
But recall the blatant treachery,
Keep keen that secret blade
To exercise your perogative to
Put right the ****** wrongs made.
Marshalg
@theBach
Mangere Bridge
22 May 2010
May 22, 2010
May 22, 2010 at 9:36 PM UTC
It is in this space
Where thoughts can dance unconstrained
Of the concessions
To jealousy and stricture
Where tangos are passionate
May 19, 2010
May 19, 2010 at 2:43 PM UTC
There’s more than one reason I’m not attempting to make myself coherent; I don’t know if I can. Could you?
Don’t answer that, you don’t know.
I’ve made too many concessions to your docility, your placid ignorance.
This isn’t entertainment. I’m really dying.
When the last fiery ember has burnt out, express your sorrow for the man, and make sure you stop at the lobby on the way out.
The credits roll, my name upon the dark screen.
Enjoy your evening.
May 6, 2012
May 6, 2012 at 5:18 PM UTC
Down at Selfridges I wanted to dalliance
with one of the heavenly shop girls,
a la food concessions caught my eye
despite breaking out in a cold sweat
at the collective cost of a Tunisan aubergine
and Nazareth salad,
I insisted eating out at the Cafe Rouge,
only to awake in a New Eltham sink estate
sated full of fromage blanc
expired before yesterday,
Discovering paradoxically
beauty as a regimen
could be quite unforgiving .
I wondered if the Highgrove concession
would have been anymore
durable?
Dec 5, 2012
Dec 5, 2012 at 7:22 PM UTC
Please ignore my foolish pride
I would chose not to hide
How I hate to wear this mask
If only I wasn’t so afraid to ask
I would chose not to trick
And present you my true speak
How I wish to show my true nature
How I hope to show my raw soul
And to you display the real creature
All my substance as a whole
I desire to be me more bluntly,
To be me in every event
Without concessions without being frightened
I aspire to be honest with me and you
I desire to be seem by another
Beyond this distorted mirror image
Projected to hide myself.
But instead of this
In my cowardice
I wear this glittering mask for you
And a myriad more for others
Always replacing the previous by the latest
Discarding the empty disguise
Aspiring to be the object of desire for you and to the rest
Enchanting you and them with my dazzling superficial illusion
With my mundane and trivial artifice,
Full of shinning nothingness
Don’t be fooled by my art
All my endurance is contrived
Don’t be misled by my composed carapace
Behind my foam facade
Lies a turbulent stream of violence
Can’t you distinguish?
Squeezed by the compressing margins
In my core there lays hurt and anguish
I plead with you to see me beyond my illusion
There are some many disguises inside the confusion.
And you will not distinguish my true me
I crave to be ultimately free
How I yearn to pull this mask,
And peel away my fake camouflaged skin
And show everybody my emotional scars my imperfections
All this fear of rejection
When every neighbouring glass ceiling starts to fall
I want to be on the outside
Naked, nothing to hide
Shameless to show it to all
Without consequence assuming who I’m
In plenitude in a unyielding way
But I can’t count on me for this, my will is frail
Nonetheless you my friend must prevail
And so incapable of performing this worthy task,
I relay on you
To rip away my mask
Allowing to see me trough
Accept me with my flaws
I will gratefully receive yours
Tear my mask with your claws
Heal my soul were it sours
Freed me of my emptiness
See me for who I’m
Fill me with wholeness
Trough away this hologram
Mar 23, 2019
Mar 23, 2019 at 8:03 AM UTC
takes about half an hour,
recuperating from
a night of drinking up to 5am...
hmm...
the playlist...
but just about two songs
inject a motivation into me...
Springsteen's born in the u.s.a.
and Megadeath's *symphony
of destruction*...
and so the next day... begins...
with either of these two,
ushers.
p.s. ok ok...
concessions...
fine young cannibals'
she drives me crazy
and Billy Joel's
we didn't start the fire...
perfect *******
props for an impromptu
of jumping out of bed.
Oct 29, 2018
Oct 29, 2018 at 10:33 AM UTC