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"decomposes" poems
Breeze bellows, leaves echo in quivering psithurism, dithering like unbroken smoke, this approaching omen goads. Dozing crows slumbering in rows, droves of locusts' silenced drone, almost comatose in repose; nighttime overtones choir of toads' raspy croaks answered by alto of crickets' orchestral strokes. Gust encroaches; robed boughs cloven open, bring into scope and focus me juxtaposed, suspended apropos. Although motionless and petrified in stone, provoked by zephyr coaxing to and fro; swaying pendulous and no longer frozen, locus gently thrown. Death rattle moan evoked from throat, reflex can't say no to rigor rigidly posed, final sigh in silence, awoken vocal, expelled and disposed. Smote by morose emotion, gun loaded then exploded by neurosis, now bloated necrosis decomposes into gross ochre. This trophy and this ode both an opus to my inability to cope; romanced i proposed, eloped and betrothed to my own inappropriate composure. Pocket full of posies plucked when luck bestowed and tears in a cup, a toast; crying copiously, tempest runneth overflowed, eyes swollen and soaked. Dipped my toes in the coast of this ocean's amorphous folds, gripped by undertow holding control of my soul; swiftly shipwrecked in shallow shoal, an old atoll. On sandy floor, water burrows roads; digging, carving, roams through unmarrowed silica and sandstone eroding into a cove. A host for opal geode trove, enclosing a technicolor rose, from the depths a glowing mosaic shone Unopened lotus floats on foam of lapping waves, a boat; prone to no grandiose notion or motive, adrift as wind stokes. I suppose this only shows the total corrosion into which I dove, the only foes to oppose are those of burdens, so only weightless can I atone- I must let go.
0
Mar 11, 2024
Mar 11, 2024 at 11:02 AM UTC
Note to Self (Part 2)
Breeze bellows, leaves echo in quivering psithurism, dithering like unbroken smoke, this approaching omen goads. Dozing crows slumbering in rows, droves of locusts' silenced drone, almost comatose in repose; nighttime overtones choir of toads' raspy croaks answered by alto of crickets' orchestral strokes. Gust encroaches; robed boughs cloven open, bring into scope and focus me juxtaposed, suspended apropos. Although motionless and petrified in stone, provoked by zephyr coaxing to and fro; swaying pendulous and no longer frozen, locus gently thrown. Death rattle moan evoked from throat, reflex can't say no to rigor rigidly posed, final sigh in silence, awoken vocal, expelled and disposed. Smote by morose emotion, gun loaded then exploded by neurosis, now bloated necrosis decomposes into gross ochre. This trophy and this ode both an opus to my inability to cope; romanced i proposed, eloped and betrothed to my own inappropriate composure. Pocket full of posies plucked when luck bestowed and tears in a cup, a toast; crying copiously, tempest runneth overflowed, eyes swollen and soaked. Dipped my toes in the coast of this ocean's amorphous folds, gripped by undertow holding control of my soul; swiftly shipwrecked in shallow shoal, an old atoll. On sandy floor, water burrows roads; digging, carving, roams through unmarrowed silica and sandstone eroding into a cove. A host for opal geode trove, enclosing a technicolor rose, from the depths a glowing mosaic shone Unopened lotus floats on foam of lapping waves, a boat; prone to no grandiose notion or motive, adrift as wind stokes. I suppose this only shows the total corrosion into which I dove, the only foes to oppose are those of burdens, so only weightless can I atone- I must let go.
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95
Eat Venison strike fear into his bones appeal to his intellectual bankruptcy make it run make it hide under his own verbal garbage disposal conquer him little man squash egos into fertilizer for your plants turn his nothing into another form negative to positive as he decomposes inside his tinfoil crap
0
Sep 16, 2018
Sep 16, 2018 at 12:37 AM UTC
Make a Troll Disappear
How easy it is to throw a ******** smile, Say some normal words while your brain runs a mile, How your feet keep walking and your hands keep moving, Yet everything inside you decomposes into ruin. To laugh a happy laugh and make a funny joke, While your stomach twists and turns and feels it’s going up in smoke. Last week was fine - what has happened to my mind? I was enjoying life and sunshine - why now can’t I stop crying? It consumed me less before so why so much today, Why’s my heart now breaking why’s it ruining my day? There’s no rhyme or reason to this crazy thing called grief, It calms down for a moment then picks up like a stray leaf, It takes it time to come and then it hits you all at once, So please excuse me for a minute if I’m failing this front.
0
Sep 15, 2024
Sep 15, 2024 at 11:22 AM UTC
Grief is weird
The paratrooper clad in chlorophyllic green stoic in resolve he leaps jettisoned from lofty perch spiraling in space tumbling through time. Airborne born into the air delivered to the dirt he dies, decomposes a casualty of consequence body brown and rotting in the rain. Wars are waged and seasons change and the world spins on in spite of all.
0
Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 3:15 PM UTC
Autumn
Seeking for the answer in the fullness of the moon. Letting my mind linger encompassing every tune. Never did I figure classic are your lies. Every dream of mine now decomposes before my eyes.
0
Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 7:13 AM UTC
SILENCED
The incandescent Sun is eating itself alive They said it's too slow to matter too slow to matter The helium will compact to a carbon red giant's core They said it's too slow to matter too slow to matter The Earth's heat is depleted by geothermal extraction They said it's too slow to matter too slow to matter The geysers are drying up and the pressure sinks in subsidence They said it's too slow to matter too slow to matter The permafrost decomposes and prehistoric methane effervesces They said it's too slow to matter too slow to matter The Yellowstone caldera hisses plumes of taunting toxic gases They said it's too slow to matter too slow to matter The sea-floor volcanoes purge their way to the surface They said it's too slow to matter too slow to matter The aurora lights the sky as solar wind ravages the magnetosphere They said it's too small to matter too small to matter
0
Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 9:43 PM UTC
Geophysical Minimisation
Saw Kafka's "THE METAMORPHOSIS" last night. In dance, words realized and a man sticky As he decomposes, Composes his family. But without the usual inspiration, Afraid to tackle what can not be made more Beautiful. So instead I scribble an equation And put my head underneath the Bathtub water, And calculate my foolishness, Dabbling in the mathematics of Love and poetry.
0
Sep 19, 2013
Sep 19, 2013 at 6:56 AM UTC
A jot, a dash
a 'good' poem crumbles in your mouth. it doesn't tell you, chiding, "this is how i should taste" - instead decomposes into the loam of ages. no single flavour is the same to every person. a 'good' poem forces open the jaw, climbing in. it begs no hospitality - it needs none. and as it clambers on your tongue (trying to avoid incisors), only taste keeps you chewing, rolling gobs of words over molars, wondering when before you've felt them without knowing. sustaining life sustains a string of otherwise insubstantial little letters no better than ideograms, clicks and chirps all ones and zeros, really. we embroider and tack up that which our minds give meaning to.
0
Mar 1, 2011
Mar 1, 2011 at 9:10 PM UTC
poiesis
Look, no more swimming to the bottom of the pool, Or looking in the closet for what you know isn't there, No more trying to hang out alone because you know you'll never be cool. And man, google it, bleach tastes like **** and you know you'd be missed so quit. Sit and follow bit by bit as I list what you're in, because all I have to do is reminisce. We've been there, man, so cut the crap. We'll draw you a map to get to your cap, Your maximum capacity. To be what your Dad could be before he started chasing secretaries behind your Mother's back and lost his dignity as the dignitary of your household. We see what you do and what you've lost, you paid the cost of false love and we know. My friend, we know. There's no reason, no rhyme, but it doesn't help to whine, nor wine. We've been there, and we'll tell you, it gets better, my friend, we promise. It deteriorates and decomposes at a fast rate that keeps you up late as you miss your mate, the one you believe made you great. But you were great before the ***** walked out the door shaking what brought you there to a fake amour. There's no reason to sit and cry by the fireplace and wait and waste until your waist is eight, just because a girl you tried to date couldn't relate to your place in the world. We know, my friend, we know. And we know it gets better. So pick yourself up off the floor and dust off that kitty sweater.
0
Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 12:38 AM UTC
Kitty Sweater
the transcontinental railroads embedded with barbed wire on my skin I hope you travel it one day and cut the noose around my neck and caress my persistent demons into hibernation before my body decomposes into nothing but meaningless flesh and scarred bone I want to spend a night beside you in the burning of an embrace that is your reluctant arms and jaded smile severing life lines strangling your ability to breathe suffocating yourself with tainted air and choking on your words you will spill hopefully beside me.
0
May 19, 2013
May 19, 2013 at 8:16 PM UTC
if I wrote you a poem this would be it
Two birds cry for what once was. The innocent lamb decomposes for she once were Tossing joy with a painted face humming without distress to the two birds who tended her all for naught. The two birds had watched her succession turning away from her inevitable passing Moments wasted now abandoned Replacing blissful memories with a duet of Piano Sonata sung by the two birds as they attempt to mend the lamb with harmony. Now only one bird cries for the other must sing for what once was.
0
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 12:48 AM UTC
Two Birds
A man once told me, "Never write a movie where a man is left shouting after a woman who is sure to return" I was raised by wolves and Don Quixote lead with(in) the heart; regret with(in) the brain dead weight hangs hungry in my chest I see fear creep in my knees my teeth are looking to be tested my skin is stained like a constellation capricorn gemini pisces I am my own galaxy: only porcelain angels looking over me backstage pass to my caterpillar identity crisis My imagination (machinations of muddled emotions) was waiting for someone like you His laugh rattles my subconscious and decomposes my rigor mortis kiss youmeus like your tongue was made of money finger me as much as I do my hair I like sinking into your mind; it's warm in here Eggs&Bacon; bread & butter you're the apple pie to my adam's apple (with all the cavities) I'm a headless chicken framing instant coffee amber memories ice cream melts the closer I get to the sun... It rained today. Some statues talk, some people have nothing to say; who will you dip in gold and call your temple? Why does it have to be art and not just us? you're just another outlet mall; your sheep are in Leeds the shoes are from your closet and I need reupholstering my feet will go where they dare but the yellow brick road is turmeric and shame I'm on a deserted island and all I see are birds all my doors have a neon EXIT sign It began and ended with the Space Odyssey- "Martha!"
0
Aug 10, 2017
Aug 10, 2017 at 11:13 AM UTC
Vonnegut
And it's pretty cool when you're you and I'm me though I don't know what to say what could I? I want to, say anything at all if it'll make me feel better about wasting your time, making you dislike me more each second that passes I can only assume that you are merely humoring my childish attempts and desires though I'm not entirely sure what they even are, what I want from you what you mean but it's still nice very enjoyable so it can be allowed to survive at least for a while until it dies decomposes and I'm forced to face truths the kinds I hate though I also want them because you are just far too intimidating for me to be around for too long.
0
Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 3:04 PM UTC
Facetious
Twas under the brightest silver moon, That I witnessed true perfection bloom-- Her hair like silken petals; her figure strong and proud-- And all this beauty blossomed five full months from June. Just as frail as flowers, though, her splendor was painfully brief, And, though many said I must move on, I could not contain my grief. I could not bring myself to so easily sway! I just did not have it in me to turn over a new leaf. My mind's been a flutter with floating blossoms of her face. A cloud of radiant spores I'm forever forced to chase. This wasn't just a fish occupying a vast sea; There were no other flowers that could occupy my shattered heart-vase. And now her name's like perfume foreign to all other noses, I've found a simple remedy that alleviates my pain. But, as the garden of my heart festers and decomposes, I feel a little better every time I burn the roses.
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Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 12:26 AM UTC
I Burn the Roses
I wonder... Can you hear me Can you really hear my whispers in heaven Or is that just another lie they told me so I would stop crying I miss you so much Watching me or not, I just want you here Just to see you one more time Hug you until I die so I can stand by your side JUST ONE MORE TIME Just one more time... Is that too much to ask You meant so much to me In fact the world was so much clearer when you were still alive Now it is just blur A giant blob of pure nothing And to stand at your grave isn't enough to clear my sight My soul feels like it is burning to ashes as your body decomposes   I'm so scared Help me... I need you Please...wipe my tears away Just one more time Please
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Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 1:44 AM UTC
To the one you lost(R.I.P)
The feeling, the burning sensation decomposes my spirit to crumbs leaving a hard exterior shell, a parasite taking over my body and leaving only the remnants to be discovered too late.
0
Mar 18, 2015
Mar 18, 2015 at 1:15 AM UTC
Raisins
This fire may have started in my mind But now it's gone and spread To my spirit, to my heart And I can't help but feel I'd cause less damage If I were just dead instead I've tried to ignore it, I've tried to move past I did my best to disconnect from each unpleasant shadow cast But still it grows inside me, this black & toxic curse And as much as I wish otherwise it's only getting worse Who the **** are you? And I don't even have a face for the rage I don't even have a name I can scream in disdain They're both lost in the shadows of my inner flames Burning brightly, burning hate Is this hate? Insidious and unforgiving, venomous and vile Relentless, inescapable - and spreading all the while I can't let this consume me, I refuse to let it win But as each rotten second decomposes I corrode within What the **** are you? And I don't even have a face for the rage I don't even have a name I can scream in disdain They're both lost in the shadows of my inner flames Burning brightly, burning hate This is hate. I know this feeling, this is hate I wish it would just leave me be This twisted feeling, full of hate How can I escape? When I don't even have a face for the rage I don't even have a name I can scream in disdain I can't see anything through these crimson shades of pain And ******* hate. No more hate No more hate I don't want to feel this way Please take it away And grant me escape from my faceless rage
0
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 2:06 PM UTC
A Face for the Rage
Glass shatters Heart splatters Silver platters. Wine stains the once pure floor Endless maze of hallways Red lace and empty days I cant take anymore Broken pearls Screaming girls The room whirls I've lost my way I lie on the ground There's darkness around I don't make a sound There's daggers in the words you say Shh, close your eyes.. Oh, moaning mind please rewind time Lips locked, fingers entwined It started with a smile Then we danced a while and you took me home We made sweet love Then gazed above at the stars... Run! Dear God, run! But wait, I'm the one holding the gun Ruins... Nothing left but ruins when the heartache begins shallow breaths I shot him down Cinderella took off her gown Blood's splattered on the walls No expression He made the wrong impression Time for another session.. No one can hear his bellowing calls I bring him thorn'd roses And watch as he decomposes People **** in their noses But it's too late He's gone.
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Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 10:45 PM UTC
Destroyed In Love
Trees store memories of water, drought, bad dream, is forgotten. Love is a spring, ever remembered hate decomposes to waste.
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Apr 26, 2012
Apr 26, 2012 at 7:43 AM UTC
Green leaves of memories
The simplicity of this  will blow your mind. Nothing leaves this plane/t. When you die your body decomposes and becomes soil. The gasses and liquids in your body evaporate and become air wich goes back up into the clouds. From conception every drop of water your mother drank and every fruit or vegetable she ate, came from the clouds and soil that nourished her. From birth you are made up of these cells from those cycles that will forever recycle until the end of time. You drink the same water that fell on this earth at the beginning of its life. I do believe in a soul and spirit. But you can now see. YOU ARE EVERY PERSON YOU'VE EVER MET.
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Nov 10, 2021
Nov 10, 2021 at 4:09 PM UTC
You are every person youve ever met.
Each long lost dream of conquest in the ashes of history is buried. With it lie the cracking bones of sacrificial pawns forever to oblivion consigned. Celebrated as nothing more than the unknown soldier, who for the ambitious and self-centered imperialist, gave his own dear life. A soldier unknown who gives his own blood, to elevate his general to history's indelible annals, decomposes to oblivion with neither a name nor an identity. He spills his own blood for a glorious title on his chiefs to be conferred. His valiance, bravery and courage are all to his commanding general credited, who in unmerited triumph, robs him of his military ingenuity. Dishonoured in death, his unidentified remains are crammed with the bones of others like him, in catacombs of mass graves. Whilst his imperialist general, to whom he gives a name in history, gets interred in splendour, in a stately and Palatial mausoleum.
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Feb 29, 2024
Feb 29, 2024 at 4:22 PM UTC
The Unknown Soldier
sterile pools singe clean white sheets as we sing a dying dirge of keats godlipped eyes in odes of closings lifetimes in their fevered sickness disassembled friends and lovers numb from blue bell laced deceits ride the sunlight as it decomposes out of time with love's lithe quickness fading thorns on blackout roses line threadbare broken hearted streets the black eyed blossoms know your name...(follow you home, step by step on) braided bricks under crumbling feet
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Aug 23, 2013
Aug 23, 2013 at 12:46 AM UTC
went like it came