"connector" poems
I am the Great Connector
I was born to unite The Horde
I am the Great Collector
Of souls felled by my Axensword
They all call me subhuman
And revile me as a beast
But they do the same to you and
For that they'll pay the price
(No Peace)
We are strong, We are brave
Though they wish to see us caged
We are wild and Untamed
And we will never live as slaves
Conquerors, We Are One!
Same blood in different skins
At last you'll see, when the victor is me
I am the Lord of our Kin
Wastelanders, Join the March
The World will burn as we sing
When the battle is won, I'll announce to everyone
"I am the Ogre King!"
I am the Great Divider
I was born to brew up storms
I am the Annihilator
My path was forged in war
My reign began in chaos
In Bloodshed, so it ends
All this Strife has nearly left me with
No Kingdom to Defend
(Descent)
We are Violent and Enraged
Now that we have been Betrayed
There are Consequences Grave
For Manipulated Faith
Revolution, it has come!
Same blood but different sins
The Empire Falls
And all Hear the Call
For A New Order to Begin
Decapitate the Tyrants
& Slaughter those who Resist
When the battle is won,
At the top of my lungs, I'll cry
"Long Live the Ogre King!"
I am the Great Destroyer
The Throne is mine to take
I will be king at any cost
Dead nations in my wake
I am the Great Conniver
With Sinister Designs
Never cared how much is Lost
So long as what is Left is Mine
(Arise)
We are rabid and insane
From lives of misery and pain
Now that the world's ablaze
We fall into our cages
These Horrors have just begun
Same gore from separate veins
What have we done,
To our daughters and sons?
A History Bloodstained!
We threw our lives into this war,
And lost more than we gave
When the killing is done,
I'll tell everyone,
"The Ogre King is slain!"
Now Our Planet is a Grave!
"The Ogre King is Slain,
Long Live the Ogre King,
I Am
The Ogre King!"
Apr 6, 2018
Apr 6, 2018 at 3:38 PM UTC
The Tamil word for a lion is Puli,
This li comes out of your mouth,
When you flick your tongue inside.
With the roof of the mouth you do,
Then add an 'O' to it as a connector,
Finally end it with the lion's color.
The lion in question is grey in color,
So it becomes Puli O' Grey finally,
And it's a Kannada word for a food!
Puliyogare!
Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 5:18 AM UTC
Soil: the great connector and healer!
River: the messenger of time and energy!
Mountain: the mark of immense hope and stepping up!
Plain: the ground for practicing and achieving dream!
Flower: the smear of flourishing smiles!
Grass: the broaden of tranquility!
Birds: the messenger of exuberance!
We are only visitors to this arcade!
Since the don of our civilization trying hard to infer nature’s creation!
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 6:27 AM UTC
I love to circumspectly stare
At your Gucci underwear
I love to rip it off once more
And see it crumpled on the floor
I love to kiss you Paris style
It makes my heart beat, oh, so wild
As I make progress toward my goal
To put some rapture in your soul
Come with me to sweet Valhalla
While you're whooping, I will holler
In that celebration glory
**** I like a red hot story
It might last a hundred years
But if we don't please have no fears
We'll stay close on our connector
Till our last drop of heaven's nectar
Sep 27, 2010
Sep 27, 2010 at 9:30 AM UTC
Such falacious thread
is pulling tight
from no Holy Book
I know.
For those, self considered
right, allocating this
self seething show.
Creed or colour
should not divide.
Derogatory agitating collectors
paid off with sheer synthetic pride,
sponsering religion as their own
connector as they twist and they
tear at its written word.
Packaged to a self corrected tone,
fantasy provides absurd images
directed at the degected zone.
In anothers name they do their worst,
projecting miss-shaped Holy vows,
they drain sacred trust
for evil's thirst and so that
impieties seed should sow.
If you do aim to speak this way,
then have the courage and take that
leap on your own head.
Leave pious scriptures from
any religious source and form
well alone whatever faith or race.
For it is true that people will
for their own self enhancement
treat religion with disgrace
and thus, try to
demenaor such elegance.
Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 11:48 AM UTC
working for others
makes one poor..
special identity denied
one's voice deeply hidden
inner beauty suppressed..
livelihoods are exile
protections are dear
yet servitude keeps rule..
a new time
demands correction
straightening posture
a new discovery..
each of us stands
as connector
of many and one
one's voice found at last
exile ended
though we.. remain
here...
Sep 1, 2012
Sep 1, 2012 at 10:52 PM UTC
Stuck in my thoughts
It feels like forever
When I try too hard,
I don't get anywhere
I want to feel more connected toyou
But my connector to me is frayed
If my mind and my body become one again
Our love would be out of this universe
Bigger then all the hearts around us combined
Intense
Tired but I can't rest
Restless and
Stuck in my own mind
Losing /lost awareness
My surroundings make me clueless
What's around me
I don't know this
Smell the fresh air
Breathing careless
My thoughts are talking
Can't override them
I try to focus on myself but I can't
I know I say I can't but if I say I can, nothing happens
Negativity I wish it would jus disappear
It's hard work
It's a struggle
Got to fight through to produce these tears
All I say is how I want to feel again
How I want this how I want to be that how I want to do that so badly
But I'm stuck
In this never ending circle
The circle is a cycle
The circle has no opening and it feels like it's going to be forever
I say I know it's forever
It feels that way
I'm always feeling
But not really feeling
We're in this together
To be here for eachother
When we ache inside
When were lost from feeling alive
I don't want pity
I don't want you to give me anything
But love
Real tight hugs, caring words
Love is what I need
It's rough to get a cold brick wall feeling from you
I know you're under a lot you have a lot of weight on your bones
But It still sends tight vibrations down my spine
I can't see straight I can't hear words when I'm fed with fear
I hear the music but I don't feel it in my chest
I hear the lovely words in key
But I am so numb
It breaks my heart it's tears my heart apart to be so far
So far away from me
How is everyone such smiles?
And I'm just down with eyes full of salty waterfalls and my nose needing a tissue box/Kleenex
Please put your hand on my shoulder and rub it
Squeeze me shake me I want to feel you
Ground me
I don't need anyone to save me
I don't want to live anymore
In this detached world
I was fine before this struck
This CRAP IS SO horrible, ****
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 9:54 PM UTC
After the end
she wore the beige bra that she bought for him
because he liked plain things
under a dark turtleneck that meant she was mourning
their loss even if maybe he wasn't
she shivered into the street
and watched the palm drop on the moon,
the stars pop out like street lights whose bulbs you couldn't change,
their high up light bleached the night,
falling over the Prius, bouncing off the half-bumpered Honda, sliding down the metal window connector of the neighborhood's only El Dorado before ending up on pavement like most things do
the garage seemed to radiate and
other people's windows glowed yellow
as she turned to go
a cat rolled across the four lane road
like it was a meadow
Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 3:44 AM UTC
I am stretched out
in an effort to stretch out a moment.
To stretch out a feeling;
to elongate a sensation of lingering longing.
You can be the thief stealing the blood pumped between heart beats.
You can be the queen of unfulfilled destinies.
The one to slay the tyrant king and bring peace.
You can be the promise of everything.
I feel ya strutter.
(Don't you dare stutter on my name.)
I feel your presence in sporadic bursts of **** near unbearable pain.
(I can take it. (I can't take it.))
Neural connector fireworks igniting in my brain.
Sear my flesh.
You're the worst and the best.
Watch how the blood gushes right out of my chest,
and get wet.
I can take the pressure.
I am a pressure ******
I don't participate in anticipating the release.
I get off on the anxiety.
(Don't ever let me go.)
Let the pressure build and grow forever upwards,
like an asymptote.
Eternally rising down and falling up;
our figures are irrational.
I can feel your digits all over me,
but this plane has no ejector's seat.
I've been flying this thing manually,
and now it's crashing into you.
Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 1:39 AM UTC
horrendous
though embedded
through immemorial life..
unexpected
this singular testimony..
one's discovery
of essential being
there in plummeting depths
of darkest time..
the discovery
not confided..
of terrible truth
in secrecy guarded
with rarity spoken..
but when
always with tears..
the discovery
a flame within
a newfound dimension
found with horror..
then awe overshelming
joined with surprise
of inexpressible joy..
this more real
than earlier notions
of what's out there
and in here..
the discovery
a radiant thread
the connector
of life with death..
inestimable worth
transformed awareness
new birth
still..too frightening
too wondrous
to mention..
gifts of war...
(this is for my
dear friend, Paul,
and his gift work
to elevate the
consciousness
of us all...)
Aug 30, 2012
Aug 30, 2012 at 9:50 PM UTC
So used to being,
The matchmaker
The connector
The ugly friend.
I was hoping to be intoxicated
By someone else's love.
Instead I get sparks to fly between two
Attractive, good-looking, well-spoken people.
And I may be be lucky enough
To live out my life in the company of a cat or two.
I told him that we had been talking.
A friend of mine, she had mentioned him the evening before
Said she found him cute.
He reciprocated,
And so some undetermined seed was planted.
A fetal relationship's egg had been fertilized.
And there, I stood
Watching as my work was completed.
Yet it could not bring myself to admire it.
I left my job that evening
With hopes of falling out of sanity.
No such luck.
My experience included
Standing next to my best friends as they kissed at midnight.
And I just basked in my awkwardness.
Maybe someday I will grow out of it.
Or even better?
Maybe someday I will learn to embrace it.
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 6:21 PM UTC
I can't grasp your moving picture
When you were the director
Of my life's lovely scripture
You were the connector
To a screen that dug deep
Your image makes me weep
Your image scares me to sleep
So I may dream of you
And a world for two
When in reality
You are one
And I am none
So I tell triumphant stories to myself
Like the past glories of someone else
I direct movies in my mind
My brain always on rewind
To a time I crossed a line
Painful memories to remind
I don't know what I'm doing
When your picture keeps moving
In my mind film keeps burning
In your mind film keeps turning
Life is tough without you
But that's because life is tough
And now you're just another part
Me another broken heart
I was dealt my cards
They got me this far
Then shattered to shards
Like the film of you
That hit the cutting room floor
The moment you walked out the door
I developed strife
From the memories I edited
In your life
Will I be credited?
Sep 15, 2017
Sep 15, 2017 at 2:44 AM UTC
When I went away to school,
I lived in a town with an upper and lower main street,
on one of the slanted connector streets
there was a storefront church
with a white cross sign above the shop
that said, "Jesus Saves".
Just beyond, and next door,
hung a lower sign reading "Green Stamps".
Not sure whether anyone else ever noticed,
but tickled me near death each time I saw it.
And I've been juxtaposing ever since.
Jan 18, 2011
Jan 18, 2011 at 9:49 AM UTC
let's cross the street to find out what's there
gives a me reason to move closer to you
match your step, look at you from the side
and smile at whatever you were saying
just don't stop talking just yet
i love how you express yourself
with your silly jokes, not for grown folks
and your confidence that you will be heard
above the crowd we are descending in to
you hang back a bit as we approach the door
but i know you aren't polite really
you're enjoying my tight jeans
you whisper that you remembered i like this place
does it matter as we sit
now i have to break our little embrace
as all along as we sped by
you, me, we took the other's hand
and made ourselves one so easily, so naturally
so as not to feel the interlocking of our fingers
easy bounce of that connector between us
now we have to sit
and i can't bear to part
Aug 18, 2010
Aug 18, 2010 at 1:20 PM UTC
Brake lights , running a red light , pair of white lights , the reflection in Gods eyes , beaming across the blacktop , shattered glass fell from a crepuscular blue morning sky , now covering the parkway , North and South ! Critical victims lie beside the deceased in makeshift triage , birds fly in at treetop level , gather en masse ! Sirens wail , blue , red , yellow flashing lights send them on their way ! Blackbirds gather at behest of Satan , monitor heavenly host walking amongst them ! The certain sign of Angels in our presence , blessing the wounded , gathering the chosen ! Morning fog burns from West to East , sunbeam reflects off of a hosed down street . Glass , metal , plastic and rubber now burnt offerings upon a mechanical pyre , a monument to inattentive diving , speed in battle with common sense . Reason , atonement in a car crash , chalk outlines , photographs . Yaw marks , brake lights and eye witnesses , security cameras from nearby shops that pan across the intersection ? A twenty second piece on the evening news !
Nov 1, 2015
Nov 1, 2015 at 9:20 PM UTC
magnets snap together
any hint of attraction and suddenly they'll never be separate again
but flip one of them around
and they'll push each other as far away as they can
sometimes i wonder which one of us was flipped
Feb 8, 2018
Feb 8, 2018 at 8:39 PM UTC
*Sherry , amber shoulder length locks of hair
Passing ****** on the rail line
Beside abandoned tracks north of Ola
Sharing youth with bamboo pipes
Period hovels belonging to 'the State' collect
until a sleepy town is manifest before red
eyes , against laughter and regret tinged
with melancholia , ten seconds of concern
entangled with indifference
The crunch of gravel beneath our feet
Winter breath , *** hole lakes , dying streets
Beautiful , personal , discreet sundowns smattered with drug induced catatonia , 'Walnut guardians' and cherry trees*...
Jan 16, 2017
Jan 16, 2017 at 6:05 PM UTC
Flesh on flesh to fingers on glass.
No longer do I say the words.
Instead the text I type tells you that “I love you.”
The evolution of emotion.
The technologicalization of the hearts fuel,
Makes the organic feel no longer relevant.
No longer do my lips show my expression.
Instead all I give is a kiss from my thumb.
*
So far away, but my presence lingers in an invisible stream.
Like a ghost I am with you.
Travelling through the waves.
A tower, our connector.
We love in the age of the screen,
The age of the machine.
*
Love now feels so solitary.
My heart no longer beats against your own.
Instead the buzzing of vibration beckons my digitized feelings.
I now find myself romancing alone,
Romancing the phone.
Oct 9, 2017
Oct 9, 2017 at 10:36 PM UTC
Let us account our idled word,
indeed seek science...
reason debt, duty to be,
did he say. raison d' etre?
no.
he said reason debt, I heard
reason
call out debt, or was it doubt?
I heard called out,
doubt the difference a day makes
in reality,
the world of you and me,
the strangest sort of sapient beings
to ever
exist, we survived, so far… is that
reasonable?
Whom do I owe for my survival, so far?
Say you know, I'll say
mebbe so, if your ideal surviva-babble
possible ever, after,
exists,
is there a place where evil is punished,
for being known in all the common
ways we think, lies we believe,
good for nothing pure
evil, imaginary, mirror neuron firing signals
to the glands
from the guts to each
knot of knowing relaying response
to the noise - cries of havoc,
from any war fought on TV2021, the
recommending AI we love to trust,
with knowing
just
what we needed to know, to make up a mind
on matters pertaining
to you and the others who may be unaware, inactive,
untriggered by the terror,
not entertained by walking dead, but by the spirit
of the characters, or
character of the spirits, in other words, these
attention
holding cells for arrested development, idle words,
un-read, lines
unready for the dam that broke.
-live 'n'learn-
It takes more than seventy years to learn if ai
was right, when I surrendered, of my own free will,
made friends, and lovers, of
those who hated my idea,
peace, at any price.
Love your enemy - ha! Ha! Karate HA!
What fool would give ….
GAME STOP!... wow.
reason for the faith, as previously defined,
my way,
with hubris, in the face of the sharpest minds
opposing my singularity of being being
my own, in fact, my only
own thing, my own
reason to be.
- a hermit heretic idea virus modeled
- on the good wise *** archetype,
- the guy open to the guiding mind,
- through a refined Turrets connector, receives this
- crazy message to the hero of your story
So you could read this and run on,
for a long time, knowing agottamighty in d'vita
gotcha
best interests in mind.
- iron butterfly, rusty, but for the drum solo,
- that makes a mind dance again
What can be shaken, may be shaken,
or stirred,
swirled round and round within
gravity, at the mortal scale,
one more time.
-----------------
Oct 21, 2024
Oct 21, 2024 at 1:59 PM UTC