"desecrates" poems
dedicated with hope to all of us
Imagine a Human Family Picnic
where everyone shows -
from every sect and hue and nation -
gathered at a common table.
The Almighty swoops down
to speak the blessing:
known to all from Torah, Q'uran and Gospels
and countless other books of wisdom -
author of our souls' aspirations.
After supper the Holy One
would call us to the sacrificial pyre.
*“Brothers, sisters and cousins,
images of your creator,
every unholy war
desecrates the face of God
and there is no other kind.
Cast your pride into the flames
and live together in peace!”*
Obediently, we'd toss our
pride into the fire,
recoiling from its smoldering stench.
The Lion would lie down to preen the Lamb's fleece
and Universal Love, released from her chains,
would walk free in every land.
August, 2006
Jul 31, 2013
Jul 31, 2013 at 10:26 AM UTC
rain falls on roof tops
acid desecrates energy in the air
rain falls onto us
sprinkling in your hair
we look perfect
skin soft
deflection corrupts meaning
but the acid obliterates any sign of fear
pain that we bear is nothing for vanity
gasping for a breath to see past depression
bear the burden of self awareness with me
move forward
lovely words to follow
we mean them dearly
insert our minds into perfect reality
Aug 7, 2021
Aug 7, 2021 at 12:28 PM UTC
welcome to ana heaven
where people are collar bones
and thigh gaps are God
we are fragile, like petals
the only simile that saves me
from the harsh reality
i don’t look at you, i look through you
x-ray vision desecrates you
i don’t see you as human
i see bones
you are not thin yet, child
come with me, and it’ll be worth your while
or you collapse into the clouds
and god forbid, you fall back to Earth
stay in play land
where we live off tea and acid reflux
where we spit up food
and giggle like babies
at the sight of our malnourished bodies
give me ana heaven, sick skin
give me laxatives, stick thin
or i have nothing at all.
Nov 20, 2019
Nov 20, 2019 at 11:03 PM UTC
Blinded by its mocking glare
why must it taunt and stare
You get what you ask for
years of lifelessness is the score
Weight of the revulsive gem
is too much to comprehend
Chop off that which desecrates
freeing your spirit to consecrate
Blood pours out, stirring your need
coughing up bits, a bitter defeat
Reminisce of lost years which lapsed by
****** your life as your passion ran dry
Feb 19, 2010
Feb 19, 2010 at 4:34 AM UTC
There is always a somethingness
and never a nothingness
Never believe in the nothingness because nothingness is what kills the dreams and what desecrates and obliterates the child.
There is always a somethingness in what you perceive as nothingness.
Never forget that.
Nov 1, 2011
Nov 1, 2011 at 9:12 PM UTC
Alcohol, disappointments and tainted heart to hearts,
everyone is there most beautiful, when dying in your arms,
They show you everything in them that you never got to know,
the scars, the charms the love that burns and desecrates their soul.
I never saw you pass by, or noticed you were there,
You've jumped up in my memories but I never seemed to care,
You know everyone around me and have touched there lives somehow,
you've blessed them with your beauty, which never shone on me 'til now.
Sadly though it seems to shine much brighter than it should,
my eyes grow tired and tearful and I'd remove them if I could,
they see things in you they shouldn't and they burn shut when I stare,
who knew that in my distracted state that you'd be standing there?
And now I lie down wondering, if it has really come to this?
I knew that it ignited ever since our first meaningless kiss,
But it grew beneath and showed itself when you **** near broke my heart:
Because you are at your most beautiful, when you're crying in my arms.
Apr 20, 2010
Apr 20, 2010 at 12:42 PM UTC
It's the flame that burns through each layer of skin
if you resist, you can try to save yourself from these sins
It's bottled upon the top cabinet, to the right, in the left side of the kitchen,
next to the cabinet there's a window
letting the hazy skyline fill in the unspoken words from your lips
You can try to conceal these wrongs, drink away this burning flame
but the ashes will always remain.
Look, and walk around, the cursive words
scribbled on the doors of bathroom stalls
abandoned buildings to sinful to care who desecrates them any further
Soon, you don't have to see but hear
the drying throat, hope to swallow more doubt into the pit of hell.
The longer you bear this pain, the more time will reach its last hour
and when the world has shut the door on your face
leaving you in limited space
these secrets will be written on your arsenic bones
and all that will remain is the secrets heavy in the New York air.
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 6:33 PM UTC
Feelings that were once lost
Knocking again at my door
Indeed a risk I crossed
But missing an opportunity, I abhor
Felt like I was in cloud nine
Not caring about anything
But the moment I blinked appeared a vine
That pulled me away from everything
Darkness everywhere nothing I see
The place reeks of despair and pain
The farther I was pulled the more it desecrates me
It never stopped, my sanity slain
Jul 2, 2019
Jul 2, 2019 at 8:03 AM UTC
The sky an empty hue
Words with no voice
The giant wheel that spins
And i go on.
The walk with no end
Flowers wilt
The kingdoms that fall
And i go on.
The touch that should mean
Laughter dies
The mask that desecrates
But i still
Go On.
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 7:58 AM UTC
once i eagerly awaited the patter patter of your feet
a smile covered face in anticipation
my eyes rejoice
my heart race
blushing cheeks are lovingly embraced
to souls joined again
how naive i have been
your patter patter brings anxiety for fear of the wrath
the grows and brews under the service
exploding without any clear sign
the volcano erupts
the molting lava desecrates all living in its path
succeeding in annihilating the last of my love and affection
barren wasteland all that is left
my mind understands
my souls questions
my body remembers
my heart cannot believe, a wounded soldier in disbelieve of bleeding wounds and missing limbs
i have been here before with cold and broken hallelujah's
the show goes on there is no curtain call
falling on knees
arms on high
singing my broken hallelujah
Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 4:43 AM UTC
.
In the open,
Sun alight and in flame
Makes us bare
And we suffer alone.
In the daylight,
Sun addresses our calm
Colours us black
And we shuffle our skin.
In the outdoors,
Your eyes are blinding mine
And sight is cold
As we suffer alone.
I once loved you
And you probably loved me
Out in the open,
In sun that desecrates.
Dec 31, 2017
Dec 31, 2017 at 2:23 AM UTC
I want you to scream your lungs out today loud and proud
Bow your head and gesticulate all that you have vowed
Because if that art didn't echo cathartic it wouldn't make a sound
If you didn't chase the highest rungs the path is wayward bound
If life didn't motivate you there would be no drive
And if you weren't in motion then you wouldn't survive
And if you didn't bound from strife you wouldn't thrive
Because staying wound up doesn't allow for any pride
The sedentary life desecrates and decimates and pushes down our dreams
It bottles up and washes up all our clever schemes
It tricks you into thinking that you have no right to believe
That there is no reprieve to compensate a cold reality
Well I have got news to you warriors who fight
Continue on your path and scream singing blues and sharing might
Even if this a dream I don't need to be educated on mirth
It is the split second's impact where I feel it's worth
Remember to revel and celebrate and overcome the mind
Or ask yourself what kind of footsteps you want to leave behind
Certainly there is no such thing as rewind
Now is the time I am grateful to be alive
To prove my worth for my birth
The God that blessed my time
I am given golden hours
That no one can take from me
I am in charge and omnipotent
To hold the key and set me free
I was given the right to learn from my fear
To overcome what's been and yield strength within
And protect those who I hold dear
If I don't get to choose what affects me
Certainly I am given free will to protect me
The power of my mind to regulate what is perplexing and vexing until encountering the next thing
So if the only thing truly naked is my fear
Then maybe next time I'm down and out I'll remember that I was here
I'll remember my calling is so crystal clear and to humble myself
That I am fortunate and I am blessed
And only need to remind someone else
Apr 16, 2016
Apr 16, 2016 at 2:39 PM UTC
And the sorrowful tears of lose and death
Is a record of our true evil, the darkness we indulge in every day
We liken ourselves to the angels of a desert text, but we are nothing more than animals without impulse
We are simply chemicals of hedonism, and we are blissfully drugged by our own egostistical denial
There is a darkness that permeates through our humanity, and those that try to hide it, enable it even more
There is light in this world, these are not the words of a cynic, only the words of someone tired of hate
There is no true recourse for the evil deeds done in this life
We have conditioned ourselves to block out the dark
And only show that there is light
And while that may help you in your self
It desecrates the pain that is given to those
That are vicitms of this terrible darkness
Our ribcages are sown shut to the truth
Our hearts only beat to the drums of our pleasure
I am no different than what I say, I am me
My exhaustion has reached a peak though, and I can’t seem to stomach much anymore
Another bible must be written
Not one of stories and metaphors
No judgment of hell, or a fear of total control, from something above
But of love for one another, for the light that is in our souls
Of the waters that give us life, were we may all bathe our hearts in community and docility
We are of the same cloth, we are only separated by opinion and hate
This is an action we must undertake if we want to survive
No more of the desert stories, no more of our dark indulgences
We must look to a brighter future, we must make it a brighter future
We must create our path not with bone and blood, but of grass and orchids
Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 11:42 PM UTC
i don’t even want this feeling
to pass from the safety of myself.
i would rather just
look at you and let a crush
crush me completely
than have to realize it
like i did before.
i would rather be crushed by possibility than
its death.
i would rather live in limbo than in
definitive
disappointment.
cause if i’ve learned anything in these
eighteen years
it’s that you’re kinder
when you tear yourself apart
softer
than a stranger who desecrates even the parts
you would leave intact.
i would rather look at you and think how
nice it might be to touch you, break the boundaries of social
propriety,
but leave it just an empty, unfulfilled
possibility. because i don’t want to touch, i don’t want
that tender, tender brushing of fingertips,
i want a **** to forget and a friend
to remember
and caring isn’t on the agenda.
so please just let me look at you
let me crush myself
before you
ever get the chance
to.
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 12:05 AM UTC
oh, darling, don’t you want to be saved?
there is a halo in his mouth,
there is a halo in the back of his throat,
and there is a halo carved into your hips -
you hate him for ruining you. you hate him.
maybe you were holy once,
but he desecrates with his hand around your neck, he says that his god is the only god, and you tell him “well then, baby, i can take you to
heaven,
well then, baby, i’ll worship you
and only you,
well then, baby, i’m not getting any younger.”
he kisses you again, he moves up and down your flesh like a car crash on the ten o’clock news, and you’re this close to dying, and you’re this close
to
fading
away,
fading into the lines on his chest, into his mouth, don’t cut your knees on the halo, my dear, it’s not time for the sacrifice yet.
May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 12:10 AM UTC
Introducing his lovely assistant
Sequin dress and smiling mouth
From his tuxedo sleeve he pulls a Rose
Presents it to the smiling girl
And bows to the audience who revel, ecstatic, at this small miracle.
He plucks behind her ear and finds another rose,
Another, in the crook of her elbow,
Behind her knee,
All the soft places he touches and drags Flower and thorn from the skin
And the lovely assistant: bleeding, smiling
The audience is in awe.
For his next trick, he tips his hat
A picture of chivalry, a gentleman’s gesture
And blooming from his head is the dove
Off-white and malnourished, eyes wide and fearful
Fleeing the scene like smoke from a burning house
The audience is clapping and roaring and howling
And a silence descends
For his final act, calling on his assistant
With her clipped wings and blossoming body,
He cuts the girl in half
Desecrates and diminishes her
Does it with a flourish and a sweeping of his hand
Makes her less than what her mother made her
And the crowd, cheering, screaming
Leaping from their seats
He takes a bow
And the world is a stage
Feb 27, 2018
Feb 27, 2018 at 5:11 PM UTC