"decomposed" poems
They're huddled 'round their periodic lunch tables,
square and socially pyramidal,
and I'm at the bottom.
But they're just fluorine factions,
bullies at heart trying to steal my e-lectricity
with their negativity.
Because I'm light,
Ultra-violet violence to the eyes,
Magnesium burning.
Anti-matter meets matter.
And that catalytic, cataclysmic energy is attractive.
And they see me. They see, see, see,
But I've got too many Cs on this side of my false, metallic personality.
I'd better balance myself
Or I'm not getting a good reaction.
Classic ionic, ironic idiocy.
I've bonded with you,
just compounding the issues.
'Cause you're a complete acetate without a solution:
now all I've got are problems.
Dot Diagrams are dotted lines separating you from me,
because over the years what was a bond
became a partially negative charge
against me.
I was your oxygen, and you were carbon
-ated, bubbly and explosive.
We would Combust.
But now all's left but to see, oh, two
of your new girlfriends flanking your sides,
'cause we've decomposed, split, gone off to better things.
Monatomic monotones lace my speech,
and I'm pining for something to complete this emp-d shell
that is myself.
'Cause I miss what we had.
We had chemistry.
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 5:52 PM UTC
In pursuit of an elusive harmony
summer nights rolled away from us
reverberating into a numinous bass line
while reconciling our dreams
with a burgeoning truth
Flustered with desire
and walking in a non-ordinary reality. Lost within the Source
of all there is and ever was. We re-animated
navigating through portals unexplained
to retrieve this love
We plied our differences into commonality
and re-aligned our fractured selves using the agency
of synchronicity - having found
an immutable archetypal truth
and having found from where our self-portraits flow
Much more than soul mates, Plato
offers stories of Zeus splitting souls in half
as punishment for pride.
In this incarnation, have we found humility?
Will this be enough to carry us back to nobility?
It is challenging to find your way back
into a lover's arms. Mistakes haunt us eternally (if we allow for that)
but every morning if we awake
and let go, using the suns setting and rising as a reminder that
with experience, guidance, and repetition ... it gets easier
My half soul
awoke as my mortality decomposed
when half becomes one, then the real turmoil begins
from the shores of St. Mary, Raven calls
and I follow my destiny into an Obsidian Night
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 4:39 AM UTC
Health reflects plateaus,
Thick tears running like rivers,
Arthritic mountains,
Wrinkles ripple at beaches,
Plains welcome the exhausted,
Suburbs look peaceful,
Rural childhood decomposed,
Urban amnesia,
Roads outline the senile brain,
Destination: nostalgia.
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 3:14 AM UTC
so greed took mankind
with genetics
decomposed from the inside
a sick thought, I thoughts.
... inhale your doom, I thought. change your ways, you ought, I thought.
choke the carcinoma cells.
knee swells, Capricorn.
better go later for assurance of;
Death.
talk to those doctors;feed your own lies,
only to discover
them being drunk off of disguise.
sick conditioned,
The words definition, domestication
of everything
Everything
gratitude gratitude to Pavlov, whose name capitalizes;
a way of nature
creature creator, part of the world's annihilator.
cousin to eugenics we have cosmetics, anesthetics for the mind.
a nice golden walkway for mankind.
inevitably so, We herd along, too dumb to fight what we refuse to know.
Ignorance, etiquette, silence; rhyme.
herbal healing humans; survive.
© 2015 Kate Volk
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 3:07 AM UTC
To learn this gospel of that Birthing Home
A splendid way to start your own New House
Of your Man so proud; Dignity his own
Shows this Great Fixture of a Faithful Spouse
And I, envy-filled, toddlerish to Draft
To ask when my Best Time would ever come
You, Heroine's Pride, caused my Sorrows to Laugh
And boot this Troll for his Merriments done
Only for your Wish more Blessings invade
And never, ever Dream it should Resign
Which, termed Jolly, decomposed his best *****
And Danced with Gnomes your Prosperity fine.
Begging you, this Heart, please tell HER I Care
For the Flames I lit; My Penance I fare.
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 3:33 AM UTC
Pretty ugly
They claim she’s beautiful; I wanna watch her fall,
Because she sold her soul and now I just want her type to go!
Plastic surgery; left her with a ruined nose,
Her heart has decomposed and a---ll I can scream is n---o!!!
She has a striking face;
Shallow beauty is a disgrace.
They say she must be idolized;
No! She must be improved upon
And replaced!
She’s pretty ugly, she’s pretty ugly;
She’s pretty ugly to a loser who looks like me.
She’s pretty ugly, she’s pretty ugly;
She’s pretty ugly to a loser who looks like me.
Where are the nice ones?
I hate the rich ones!
The golden age of beauty has come and gone
And all that is left, to use, are the blondes!
I hate vanity! I have vanity;
I hate everything that you have done,
To challenge me with your beauty.
She’s pretty ugly, she’s pretty ugly;
She’s pretty ugly to a loser who looks like me.
She’s pretty ugly, she’s pretty ugly;
She’s pretty ugly to a loser who looks like me.
She lacks sympathy; I lack mercy!
There is no dignity in selling your body to a magazine page.
These are just my conscious thoughts;
Where are the pretty souls?
There is nothing left inside to hide
And all we have to use are these knowledge bombs of rage.
*(Repeat these lines as the song becomes quieter and fades out.)
*She’s pretty ugly, she’s pretty ugly;
She’s pretty ugly,
Yeah she’s s---o,
Very, pretty, ugly.
She’s pretty ugly, she’s pretty ugly;
She’s pretty ugly,
Yeah she’s s---o,
Very, pretty, ugly.
She’s pretty ugly, she’s pretty ugly;
She’s pretty ugly,
Yeah she’s s---o,
Very, pretty, ugly.
(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Apr 21, 2018
Apr 21, 2018 at 9:47 AM UTC
a group who has a cult following
sings about hiding for
solitude
they dedicate nothing to the poet
who did, as they know it
in hiding
but it was inspired by the same CB
I must say a big wowski to
Charles Bukowski
don't think it would happen here
no chance without distraction
little peace, much action
guessing if I became an angry man
ranted, raved and demanded
this type of peace
that would be a living conundrum
or a poet raging as an oxymoron
please leave the ***** alone
and
give
peace
and
quiet
a
chance
meeting
with words that escape
at the first sign of distress
as they undress my day
and see vicariously the
disrepair, oh you don't care...
Okay
I'll go.
To my hidey hole,
to write my pre-verse
in hyperbole ,
"how to get lost"
and what it cost me,
let the silence be
deafening,
no man may be a
poet unto himself
(forgive me I forget myself)
©DWE102013
Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 1:14 AM UTC
Is this how they felt?
Those women, adulterous?
Those men, thieving?
Breathing in the bitter metal
Of their shackles,
Just before treading the welcome mat
Of Death?
I sit here, breathing,
Aware of the awkwardness of breath,
Fearing everything, when nothing
Threatens me within this night.
Still, I can't help but wonder
If my mind is crazed or
If human kind is crazed.
Which is it?
If reality does not exist
Without my perception of visible light
And awake consciousness,
Then isn't everything just a reflection
On the mirror in my mind?
If I slow down the shutter,
All is over-exposed.
If I warp my vision,
Sanity's window is closed,
And no breath of fresh air will I feel,
Until my body's decomposed,
And I'm floating freely in the dark...
It's normal, I suppose.
I really shouldn't have gotten ******
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 1:40 PM UTC
Her eyes danced with the tiny flames that held a secret
each growing brighter when they urged to yank
the oxygen from her heart and let the sparks console
the deep holes bursting with pleasure
She dabbles in the waves of fire and brimstone
The honey dipped arms monopolize the dry neck
Squeezing harder, and harder
The metallic taste of rust shoves in front her teeth
Her eyes beg to fall out to stop witnessing the desecration
She tries not to let the secret out
but her decomposed body bows down to the forensic earth
Lying in her death bed she knows
She tasted the burnt coals
And forgot to tell Adam
She won't see him in heaven.
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 5:23 PM UTC
I was running along the highway today
Downhill, I felt
Fast
And
Swift
I saw something
In my peripheral
That looked
Smashed into the ground
It was
White,
Familiar looking,
Like
Someone's
Pet
A
Fluffy,
Friendly
Dog
Rotting in the
Ground. Its head was
missing
It had already decomposed
It was part of the Earth, and
Its
Body
Was
Next
Poor dog,
I bet someone loved it
A lot
I bet they're smiling
I bet he's smiling
Feb 1, 2014
Feb 1, 2014 at 2:39 PM UTC
You had me fall like roses,
All those hopes for the future just got cut down,
dropped and decomposed to the grounds,
Every part of me falling like dominos,
Shattered the glass from the ones I used to reflect myself,
As the pieces cut me deep bleed until now.
I wish all those tear drops were genuine,
But you turned back and smile,
Just let the stories end,
all my playlist is full of blues,
Late night reminiscing
Which part of the stories that I’ve missed?
All the love tales crumble,
Even bottles of whisky weren’t strong enough,
Staring to the skies,
As I take a blindfold to close my heart,
I told myself would fall for love instead of heartbreak,
And yet I forgot my own parachute,
To have you here,
Feels like a king never separated from his crown,
In the end, I’m the one who looked like a clown.
Sep 14, 2022
Sep 14, 2022 at 5:43 AM UTC
Memories of past magnificence
A pall now hangs over her
Echoes of screams in the west
Decomposed disillusion
Inhumanity
Insecurity
Split personality
Search warrants for the haves
Kicked in doors for the have nots
Mr. Officer……Mi innocent
The muzzle of your gun has me reticent
From slavery our ancestors did run
In the streets the blood of my countrymen run
When will di trouble dun
She has been battered and scarred
Her name feathered and tarred
While the gleam in her eyes is diminished
She is by no means finished
Still the heartbeat of a nation
Vibrant, trendsetting, schizophrenic
Sometimes there is panic in this state of chronic
Some more equity is required in my city
The financial capital
What about human capital?
Some deemed worthless
Existing in communities of sacrificial lambs.
Others are sacred cows…..Wolves in sheepskin
Who pollute the air with noxious verbiage
White collar facades hide evil intent.
She will rise again.
If we have the will and the way
My city……KINGSTON!!!!!
Jul 11, 2010
Jul 11, 2010 at 2:34 PM UTC
This twilight sky
Is like an indigo-orange symphony,
In which the light is absorbed
To be decomposed in corpuscles.
It may be ours until we die.
I may be your tree-woman ,a Ginkgo,
That Ginkgo having a stony trunk
And pure violet spiritual eyes
To look at you,
While the leaves are trembling
Their green sound.
Slowly, you may become my tree-lover-man,
While a star in the universe is dying for our love.
I may feel that force aspiring the quanta of light
Near you.
Come and be my black infinity,
While this earth is cracking its crust
From time to time
And especially now
As at any end of the time.
Wind is your embrace,
Next to this field of Nepal poppies trembling their hypnotic
Red melodious shadow
And near this ripe wheat field
Loudly shaking its tired yellow.
The wind is crazily singing and dancing around.
I seemingly hear some astral blue songs.
It's like a jazz blues chord progression.
Our leaves cling to its long hair.
I feel the rainbow of sounds,
I feel this love.
Jan 9, 2012
Jan 9, 2012 at 8:42 PM UTC
We once dined together on goodly tables
and laughed together at funny fables.
Me was 'us'
back then when the fields were green
Love was the boss
we cared not who was the lord
as long as he could our peace afford.
Time grew taller
and bonding cords grew shorter
our once glittering tables
Decomposed on beign fed upon by unhealthy fables.
Like little foxes
forces of grudges and sentiment arising from resentment crept in
and the bond we once shared was threatened.
Those cherished days are long forgotten
relics of our lost bond keep us hurting
A little 'sorry' would have let it go
but it wasn't in the tune of our ego.
Regrets like matchets cut our hearts deep leaving wounds that time's woo can't recuperate.
rays of hope
make us cope
knowing someday someway we'll return to the land
Where 'me was we' and 'his was us.'
May 16, 2018
May 16, 2018 at 11:47 PM UTC
The black hole’s emanations attempted to fill the gap in galactic infiniteness as all spiraled down to its new beginnings while residual harmonic vibrations honed the forms of its becoming .
The insect’s hum buzzed harmoniously almost melodiously in syncopated integrated vibrations as it flew across the room , out the door and into the night sky .
The ship’s deck rolled and pitched as hurricane weather smashed and shattered its empty hull against the wooden dock .
The blazing core of the comet streaked across the sky as it decomposed in the atmosphere and extinguished its self in the ocean .
The blazing light of innumerable suns chaotic radioactive glair was almost audible like sounds of distant campfires as the last bits of wood crackled into embers beneath the starry sky .
Jul 22, 2015
Jul 22, 2015 at 1:46 PM UTC
Kneel before the noose
With roars in chest
Learnt the humility
Abuser wasting his zest
Cry at tomorrow returning no sound
Frightening silence becomes too much loud
Voices of future singing song of the past
The Now is broken and the hope lost it's trust
Cleching rays of light by stale hand
Rotten pride has been betrayed
Ravaged shell will be healed again
To lead you trough circles of undiscovered pain
Blinding light throws me into darkness
Prisoner of malice
Break your knees
In prayer for justice
Last breath will take away
This painful torture
That hates my days
Last breath will take me away
From this endless learning of pain
In morpheus embrace
I can dance with saints
I was granted new chance
But it can't reroute me from hell
Endless hopes of salvation
Avoiding self-meaning
Pray hollow tides for echoes of noble
Decomposed spirit
Swallow all colors
In the search of the path
Look back to the forward
Beyond the lifetime
Rejecting pure energy
Forced to escape
Innocent memory
Will be ravaged again
May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 8:08 AM UTC
artist working by candle light,
neon lights, coffee shop lights...
~~~
to, for & from SJR
~
this force,
burnt soul kindling,
rampant urges that bow a man's
spine
write write rite right
consumption of the soul
straighten up, flex,
flex to the curvature of the Earths
invitation to
write write rite right
cast my eyes to the mountains,
from whence will come my help?
street prowler, heart growler,
Art Deco lampposts,
the mountain range of east seventy second street,
begs the baggers question,
each a post
begging each other,
from whence will come my inspiration?
lick the stubbled sidewalks,
fall down living in their caverned cracks,
light needed needy soft heated
orange and green pizza neons
say here,
if you see upon what be,
your homelands colors of veracity
from
candle light,
neon lights,
coffee shop lights.
all queries so queer,
so cheerfully answered
in the ***** air,
in warped woof of
city write lights
he goes home
in the dark of a green moon,
and its delighting inviting
moonlight,
he composes
what is his eyes have
decomposed into a single memory,
and is satisfied
unto sleep
praising the eyes,
light lidded, but eager closing,
that
had wisdom given
to observe
light various by which to
write write rite right
4/16/16
10:30am
nyc
Apr 16, 2016
Apr 16, 2016 at 10:42 AM UTC
Falling in love is mutilating and murdering yourself.
Sharing your love is carrying the dead body, showing it off, all around.
For God’s sake, burn the book or leave it on its shelf.
Or at least hide that horrendous corpse; bury it underground.
But it’s a ****** cemetery, this witty world is.
Every one bragging of decomposed dirt.
Yours surely is more rotten than his.
So smell the rot, you asinine little flirt.
Life should come with a warning label.
WARNING: DEAD BODIES EVERY WHERE.
Ironic, to be born on a doctor’s table.
Then die, massacred in deathly affair.
But we can’t live without love, it’s hilariously tragic.
For death lurks, immortal, in our hearts.
Yet our minds, gullible, believe it’s magic!
Beware, beware of Cupid’s darts.
**** it up, Romeo, move on with life.
Cleanse your soul; stop being sadistic.
Sure it’s beautiful, but not when she’s your wife.
It’s a dead body, you’re stupid and unrealistic.
Dec 29, 2012
Dec 29, 2012 at 9:24 PM UTC
Outside it was them, inside corrupt
When I looked upon them
it was a suit,
A tool,
It was just for show,
Trickery was its weapon
It was but a vessel
To harbour that which spread with a touch
It was
Corrupted,
Rotting,
Decaying,
It needed to be free,
Before the shell decomposed
And became but putrid flesh and bone,
The one that was there,
Personality,
Spirit,
Life,
Was gone, the shell was a trick
A walking death, but no one was home,
It will taint those who loved
It will consume you,
Never let it touch or hold,
For it will taint your soul
And after its finished
You will no longer be you,
But a shell of corruption, evils new home.
Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 4:35 AM UTC
Realities as decomposed societies set, still lives on.
Society is the crossbred of fables and obsolesce.
Reality for the individual differs, believers in disbelief, disbelievers in disbelief.
Belief is six feet below.
Truth for believers lie in realities. Reality for the disbeliever lies in truths.
Atrocious civilisations nearing transcendental ruin, for the pillars are fractured, the bases decayed and the headstones are unbinding.
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 10:53 PM UTC
November shakes the wet from
Her wings and stretches them to
Their full reach; tips touching
The death and birth of October
And December,
Feathers the colour of leafless
Trees and ploughed fields.
A thirty day lifespan of deathbed
Lullabies and hardened faces,
Bodies crouching to lay themselves
Upon their own warmth in
Desperation, clouds of breath
Escaping layers of
Cotton and wool.
Winter is as inevetable as dying.
I wander between birches and
Pinetrees like crooked teeth
Protruding from the mist; the
Bones of something decomposed
Between moss and
***** forest water.
Black as old blood.
Brown as mud, air like millions
Of tiny arrows against any bare
Skin.
This landscape could be someone's
Nightmare, some horror movie
Set or a Ted Hughes poem backdrop.
But I stand, still and alone, one
Palm against a rotten tree trunk,
The other upon my Norwegian
Heart. It is a time for looking within
For strength. To be silent and not think,
But feel; a time for building fires.
To gather what's dry, and prepare.
Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 3:07 PM UTC
Atomized eloquence of the ocean,
heard only by those few who cared,
i felt, wanted to tell many things, to me
so expected a knock at the door
of my mind. Waited.But it didn't.
She stood near me oblivious
of this in her happiness.
*Life is driven by false notions, corrected by experiences
Unsaid words.Scattered things.Do not get astonished.*
Waves brought, decomposed sea weeds
and wriggling fish, sliding against each other
I smelled ***
We were watching waves. 'Savage'
do I have to answer to that?
( sudden exclamation, betwixt silent **********
The waves tickled our naked feet,
she was happy like a girl
on a date first time ever.Excited beyond limits,
passion of every woman on being in water.
'insatiable urge'- a soft voice exclaimed,
(in a room, light gently penetrating in to darkness
I eased my weight against her body)
Shells and bones,
I was thinking, and saw them in my mind,
lying scattered under shifting sands
One never is fully aware.Though one knows.
Bones
reminder, at last of all that love and hate,
Flesh, completely dissolved, went back to elements.
Sea is like us, men and women
hides so much.Listen and look around, you will see signs!
'You look like a hermit'
she said by way of compliment.
Love is the gleam in her eyes.Evident.
"Is it my shaggy beard?
I am a lecher.Even worse"
i whisper in to her ear,
She took it as a joke,
laughs like the waves,
that go zigzag, for a while.
Yes life, when you look,
after the peeling of wraps,
supposed to be serious stuff
ends up as joke,
obscene gleam of of white bones,
laughter of white teeth on a naked skull.
Like the avarice of the never ending waves
signifying nothing in particular.
I was ********** her in my mind,
in water, she vaguely reminded a water nymph,
stood with hands on both hips
as if she understood my shameful plot,
Her drenched dress stuck to her curves.Lubricious.
Slightly plump, with lithe limbs,
i get a vision of her, squeezing me tight,
in a brutal embrace,
at the precise instant,
the waves of ****** strike.
Waves withdraw,
naked sand bars look like dead whales
under it lies scattered bones.
O
Apr 27, 2012
Apr 27, 2012 at 9:33 PM UTC
These wounds are healing quickly, as is my heart. But I will never forget the day our love was at a start. I loved the way you said my name in the sun and in the rain, all of this though, now causes me great pain. I heard the words “the end” and could never handle myself again. I struck the knife against my soul and heard no word following your swift flee. I never knew you wanted to leave, making my heart wilt like a plucked rose. It showed me true love cannot grow from stones. Cold heartless words are all we now exchange; I thought we would never be estranged. Your words once brought life, now all it breathes is strife. I’m living with no words to express my decomposed soul.
Sep 9, 2012
Sep 9, 2012 at 4:08 PM UTC
When life
seems all hopeless
still don't you loose
all scope of hope
for there's
this thing
dangling
in the air,
Reach out
for God's sturdy rope.
For how
sure can
you be
that
death will
take you
to a better fate
What if
you are
plunged
into a
plight
much
worse where there's no turning
back at any rate!
In times of trials and tribulations invoke Him
Or your chances of contentment remain slim
You too haven't been infallible and above all blame,
that you wish for a perfect rosy life
The excuses for suicide are usually so lame,
Better enjoy your share even so in strife.
Donot
friend, plan to commit this act
just to invoke another's pity and regret.
The pity and regret will come and go
Besides it soothes no decomposed,
and a large slice of your life
May lie in waste, your soul disposed
Why rush for thy grave,
It may further gloom.
Suicide's ain't a way out
fellow human friend.
Pray a godless way ,not send
you unto this doom.
You haven't right to bring
any life to its end.
And it's probable that all
those years
that you now wish to recklessly
discard in dust
have something bright ahead,
got to be a ray of
hope
Extinguish it not if in God
you trust!
Feb 16, 2018
Feb 16, 2018 at 11:56 AM UTC
when I was younger,
my idea of pain was so very limited,
it was
a garden of roses
in a world full of thorns
one thousand skinned knees
and
five hundred sprained ankles
could not even begin to compare
to what I felt,
the day you left
my body was broken
my heart no longer belonged in my chest
my mind was dead,
and every single thought of you
ripped
and
burned
and
decomposed
the skin
that I hadn't already gotten to
and these pain killers,
have always worked for
skinned knees
and
sprained ankles
but not today
so I'm raising my dosage
to a few handfuls
hoping this pain will go away
Aug 17, 2014
Aug 17, 2014 at 9:15 PM UTC