"devolution" poems
Well, what a week, full of revelation
Enough to stir this talk of revolution
Makes your hackles turn on end
Then send you round the bend
The southern gentry have found oil
Right beneath their derriere boil
Now most of us on this golden isle
Need not worry about this pile
Those who wear weekend country tweed,
Built their fortunes from housing greed
Have already decided
That it will be one sided
They’ll say it’s theirs, by rights
And if we argue, will read our last rites
The South will declare independence
In certainty of their full ascendance
Over the outer reaches of this nation
They pounded into servitude, by taxation
And if we have the nerve to debate, I’ll be bound
They’ll leave it horded in the ground,
Then blame the anti frackin’ hound
Now I may need a political re - education
In a 1984 establishment for rehabilitation
But I can see it coming a five-nation island
Southland, Wales, Scotland, N. Ireland,
And the Detritus
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 5:27 PM UTC
All weapons of
the fates you've sealed
Are no match for
this pen I wield
The power to
articulate
Ticking rhyme bombs
to detonate
The conflicts waged
gambling mankind
My perfect hand
is treaties signed
Hellbent hounds pray
like dogs, I hunt
Frontline this notebook
battlefront
With metaphors
of mindless drones
Like similes
to brainwashed clones
Whose C4 booms
and IED's
Can't build bridges
like ABC's
Or tear them down
with death regimes
By rusting through
the war machines
Flamethrowin’ my
verbal grenade
With ****** noun
scorched-earth tirade
On militant
cold-blood elite
King cobras know
I'm packing heat
Seeking missile
resolution
Winged raptor
devolution
Prehistoric
barbarism
Literacy
cataclysm
Stockpiling
extinction bones
We're cavemen carving
fallout stones
My Hiroshima
prose explodes
With nuclear
bushido codes
Released from my
katana's ward
To free my press
from shogun lord
Oppressing haiku
imagery
And samurai
epigraphy
Expressions of
my ronin soul
Omitted by
the daimyo
Satsuma is my
poetry
My final draft's
Nagasaki
Ink cartridges
strapped 'round my neck
I print no charge
or background check
And ****** every
live round free
Of innocent
blood elegy
And killing sprees
of gunned-down news
Domestic violence
black and blues
A Number 2
pencil dependent
Obsolete
lead-head amendment
Open carry
shoots a blank
Empty shell case
at my think tank
So grip this peace
then **** and pull it
**** my diction
write the bullet
Oct 8, 2016
Oct 8, 2016 at 2:10 PM UTC
her face a bold echo of all she left behind
a slow symphony of nasty things that linger in her mind
she lives them over and over
in the off color technical vision
of an artist trying on her own guises for a adventure
the night crawls over her thigh
lodges in the warm wet of her fingers
and spreads into the windows
grey fades into black
the slow devolution
into the jaundiced eye
into the nicotine stained tapping fingers as she impatiently
waits for words that can never be spoken aloud
the slow desire for tears
so deep and immediate that its a bible to the lonely soul
and her senses deny you
even as you touch the door
even as you evaporate down the hall
melt yourself into the humid night
so fair is her face that you live each of thouse seconds in dire regret
so fair is her touch that you must lean on your last breath
to let go
the night crawls
in her bed clothes
laying its fetid eggs
like a stain of pollution tender and sickly sweet
its insect face bitter staring from her soul
now i see you
you escape over and over
door
hall
humid night
door
hall
humid night
but you never leave
narrow her eye jaundiced and rancid
lay open for the world to see and be seen by
and she molds him to the stain of her hurt
deep impressions over the years leaves him little room to
wiggle wiggle worm, wiggle wiggle worm
Sep 7, 2013
Sep 7, 2013 at 10:02 PM UTC
It has never been my intension
nor was it ever a bone of contention
to alter or disrupt the social convention
but now is the time to pay close attention
to the decline of the human condition
Responsibility rescinded creating moral decomposition
accountability abandoned causing legal repercussion
right and wrong are muddled in a malicious juxtaposition
public opposition has festered into social imperfection
the omission of tradition by politician’s redefinition
HEED THIS ADMONITION OR ARDENT APPREHENSION
SAGACIOUS SUSPICION AND PERSISTANT PREVENTION
Of the decommission of the Physician, Pediatrician
the Technician, and the Mathematician
and give this acquisition to those with no ambition
even those under suspicion of sedition
or held in detention without fear of restitution
This is the deception of the devolution
of the middle classification
and the total destruction
of American personification
praise the Lord and pass the ammunition
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 11:42 AM UTC
vast vivid wilderness
analyze politicians mind
hypocrites world dies in lies
moral devolution,hiding in white
lose of mind,gravity inside
zero nothing, sometime
1 is a separate thing
a velvet plaything
breathing in the fumes
lobotomized muse
trying to do what is right
don't forget, never forget
to start walking in the grey
memories they slowly fade
from this harsh reality
exist inside, resist tide
inside you'll see it die
justify your wicked mind
the eyes torture tantalize
3 rings, out in time
bombarding mind
find it not linear time
time line separate thing
velvet plaything
treated like lobotomized dogs
vast vivid life of pain
wires forced into my brain
trying to do what is right
don't forget, never forget
to start walking in the grey
memories they slowly fade
from this harsh reality
exist inside, resist tide
inside you'll see it die
justify your wicked mind
Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 3:39 PM UTC
Ecologists only interested
in
Different processes that studies
Physical
Changes of forms and gradual
upward movement
of
Living being.
Physical evolution shows upscale
but what about mind and vital ?
Is there Devolution in faculty
of
Mind and vital plane ?
If not,what is the terrorism ?
Are Darwin and Lemarks wrong?
or
science is in child state to understand
the Life ?
Mar 24, 2016
Mar 24, 2016 at 8:32 AM UTC
*I don't like him
He is a nuisance
I don't like him
I'd fond his death
I don't like him
I'd share nothing with him
I don't like him
I would like to gouge his eyes out
Until they pop.
Until blood-tears scream down
His ******* face
I form mucous to
Spit in his ******* snake face
I want to see bits of his skull torn out
I do not like him
I want to squeeze through my hands in the decapitated
Head and grab out his ******* brain,
Bits of his skull
I would like that.
Gone he'd be
I would like that
I would like to hurt him
I don't like him
I want to see all his ******* blood
Pour majestically out of every
******* opening, every hole
I see of his, I want his greedy black heart
Suffocated with cyanide
I want his poisoned soul *******
Burned until I smell
His burning, searing flesh
That screams with help
I would to do all of this and laugh and laugh
I wish he would realize how much he has gained
Then,
I will excrete on his ugly ******* red car.
I dream morbid, I dream morbid lovely thoughts to leave his
Lifeless whore-self in the ugly ******* red car
For him to rot he shall as a male-slag
A **** of degenerate foolery
Unjust as unwise, he froths degradation
A form of devolution,
As treacherous cliffs weakened
from sun and water
Treachery engrossed with black thoughts
As he falls he will bring all,
who he can find to fall with him
Drenched with whoreness
A ******* thought enriches degenerate
I would dream to castrate him
Destroy his club, **** the ******* worm
Turn unto ****
**Turn unto ****
Turn unto platter of wet sponges
Turn him into a casket of bleeding organs
I do,
I do not like him,
No I do not.
Filthy Male-Whore, ****
His corpse shall forever mold with self-hatred
Disgusting waste of gluttonous entity.
Biological waste universal waste
I do not like him
Blood chunks pool over out of his skull
I do not like him, All his filth-blood
Dried out, I do not like him
Tongue pulled out, neck snapped
Brain matter scooped out, the ******* worm
Thief, Cheat, Male-Whore. I do not like him
But I do not hate him.*
Dec 29, 2013
Dec 29, 2013 at 11:25 PM UTC
Inhuman humans
Extraterrestrial bipedal
Extrasensory sensationalism
Salvation sensitivity
Helium halo hierarchy
Filtered fixated complex
Validated valor rejects
Calibrated gratitude
Servitude cyanide
Failing fortitude
May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 11:06 PM UTC
So often I feel like you are fruit
Placed gently on me, a sandpaper offering plate.
I do not want to hold you so roughly,
But there are things I am still learning
Placed gently on me, a sandpaper offering plate
My rough rubs you slowly,
But there are things I am still learning.
How we are unto diamonds.
My rough rubs you slowly,
Until we are evenly raw.
How we are unto diamonds;
I wish I was that soft.
Until we are evenly raw,
This feels like the devolution of beauty.
I wish I was that soft.
Something similar to dying fruit.
This feels like the devolution of beauty.
Soon you will no longer be sweet.
Something similar to dying fruit.
And I am a sandpaper monster still learning,
And so often I feel like you are fruit.
Jun 18, 2012
Jun 18, 2012 at 7:21 PM UTC
Pacing the corridor
I see your face
In every turn
In every break
The ghost of my lover
The ghost of my friend
Please follow me
The bleakness of this colorless life
will break me with out you
desperation is devolution
My ghost I need you
Your vibration is evident
The change in my chest
The cringe in my body
The heat quickly leaving every fiber
Its hot… It hurts
the pain is deafening
Nov 28, 2013
Nov 28, 2013 at 3:01 AM UTC
You used to show up at my door,
broken, and defeated by the world
And I'd take you in like a stray,
feed you, give your head a place to rest
My arms used to be a cradle,
A warm, safe place for you to dream
Somehow they became a prison,
Captivation, soon turned to captivity
If I could've stopped this casting
From changing our characters
You wouldn't be a liar
And I wouldn't be a fool
You used to undress in front of me,
Disarm, expose yourself to me
And I'd kiss all of your wounds,
dress them, give you something for the pain
My eyes used to be your windows
They used to be open, and full of light
Somehow they are just holes now,
Something you can't get out of
If I could've stopped this devolution
From taking us back in time
You wouldn't be a stranger
And I wouldn't be a stranger
Oct 11, 2012
Oct 11, 2012 at 7:47 PM UTC
Surely in the distant future historians will find our civilization
Appalling, destructive, gluttony,
Stricken.
Receipts of items that once fulfilled our temporal desires will fill earth
creating a toxic compost for life
To nourish upon
They'll blame us for the decay
And devolution of man
They'll duly note our fascination
With stimulants and violent trends
And most of all, they'll be unable
To comprehend our impotency
our hubris our clemency
They'll construct theories
That moor our cultural malaise
To each recrudescence of tyranny
In essence they will despise our very nature.
Not out of contempt but out of fear that they too will fall
prey to the plague.
Dec 25, 2012
Dec 25, 2012 at 5:27 AM UTC
In the midst of something crucial
diminutive But
butts in -
Oh, don't you hate that? -
just when evolution is expressing itself
and here's But to bring in devolution;
and so I told BUT recently:
But me no Buts
X me no Xs
Just **** off…
*But…
But…
But…*
Oh don't you know when you're not needed?
Look here - I'm in the midst of watching that
**** **** of that damsel across the green field
and here you come butting in
It's her swaying **** I'm watching;
now, you - flick off!
*But…
But…
But…*
And exasperated, I said:
OK - What?
*But that's not a woman's **** you're watching;
it's a bull across the green field -
put on your glasses, and you'll see what I mean*
And sure enough
with my glasses on I could see
But had a point -
still, But takes away our illusions
and so I vent my fury on But:
OK, wise guy - so I can see it's a bull;
Now get your bull off somewhere else
*But…
But…
But…*
Oh, the diminutive, persistent But -
it follows one like one's own ****
May 15, 2012
May 15, 2012 at 6:07 PM UTC
Falling out of nature’s plan,
Creatures not worthy of sight,
Given more than they could need,
Seeking out another fight,
Crawling out across the world,
Creatures not worthy of speech,
Granted more than they deserve,
Grasping for what’s out of reach,
Breaking out of every line,
Creatures not worthy of breath,
Gifted more than other beasts,
Racing on towards their death.
Nov 23, 2010
Nov 23, 2010 at 12:48 AM UTC
A city brewed with History
*A simmered *** of diversity*
An empire extended in streams
The devolution of solid districts
Prided with craftsmen and artisans
A showcase of nature at its core
Forested and iced mountain tops
Valleys plentiful of sweet waters
A greenery of wealth and Industrialism
A Romania of open heart and miracles
Cities of social capital, tourist destinations
Initiates of a Western Europe Rebirth
A Transylvania of forts and Baroques
Cathedrals, and orthodox moments
Sibiu a reserve connected to haunted castles
May 19, 2016
May 19, 2016 at 6:20 PM UTC
Aging a progressive and earthy condition
Beginning at the top of our life
Genesis of a lonely crusade
Aging...bone degeneration
Tired eyes
Lack of elasticity and tone
Drying
Wrinkles
Dark spots
Aging… origin of a journal
Ending with a final destination
Devolution of human existence
Declined memory
Decadency of cognitive knowledge
Agony of Aphrodite
Collapse of Eros
Unmoistened Venus
Aging as evident as irreversible
Irremediable condition
Impossible battle
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 11:24 PM UTC
Putting words together is a devolution of self;
the soft underwash of sea darkens sand,
a faded sun burns out over rooftops of rain,
a snow train stops in frost under polar stars;
but this is beyond me, over the edge.
Oct 18, 2016
Oct 18, 2016 at 3:35 AM UTC
G'day Chaps and Chick-a-Deez
This Luna-Tick has Awoken (Again!)
And, this Time round,
Will be somewhat Outspoken.
My confidence is up
And doesn't/cannot be deflated;
I'm neither here or there,
But I am under-rated.
To realise is one thing,
To release too soon another:
While I hate the current system,
It both feeds and protects as my Mother.
So...slowly, slowly...and
Breathe deeply...breath deeply;
Let's not get ahead of ourselves
And spoil the fun of the Masses.
I might be an Adept
At Adopting new strategies,
But my personal Evolution - unscrewing -
Entailed my total undoing - Devolution.
The pressure We face when **** hits the wall
Should at least be balanced when we know the score.
So thank you my friends - the Voiceless believers;
I was never going to forget my countless Leaflets.
Mar 4, 2014
Mar 4, 2014 at 1:28 AM UTC
a fish was attracted to land
went to the trouble to grow
lungs, crawl panting on a sandy
beach, to use newly developed feet
so we could follow our own journey
back to foamy shores
to look out at our old home
on holidays and weekends
wondering why we bothered
to leave in the first place
May 1, 2022
May 1, 2022 at 4:34 PM UTC
sometimes, it's the songs without words, the ones that slip silently beneath the undercurrent, that will seek you out,
that will sing you the terrible story of crows to mend your heart, that will whisper what no one will tell you because it's your soul manifest, it's your heart reaching out --
they open themselves slowly, but you have to be careful with them; you have to look
at them from afar, and bow, and maybe then, she will open her mouth to you, where not words but wisteria lie, where not passion but pain rest, where everything raw and immaterial pours out in the haze and panic of devolution in the chaos of the earth and skies and all that suffers in between where in the center of the swirling mass amidst the high cries of sorrow and love will be her
and just,
her ,
some songs will move you, shift the light through you, shift the pedestal of surety and blow it right away.
some songs will obliterate you, but most will hold you.
and when they'll release you, you will fall, and it will be so glorious and so terrifying that you will become a god in the storm and you will know, truly know, then, what it is like to be immortal, to be unhurt and untouched, unmoored and unbridled, impossible against the possibilities of a mortal existence.
you will deify.
Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 5:30 PM UTC
You can't catch me 22
I'm miles dead ahead of you
Runnin' circles round' you squares
With lion shares and grizzly bares
Livin' on a cobra's prayer
With taboo turpitude'n tongue
Conundrums that I'm summon'un
The meta-Orpheus has come
Since 21, the chosen one
I'm neo-hippy rebel ****
So ante-uppers, get you some
Eleven seven slurpee sun
Super-soaking supernovas
With a matrix water gun
From vats of hydrochloric
Spillin' Joker on the masses
Turnin' Gotham allegoric
Into clown prince rhymes of passion
Of a blood of Christ fanatic
Jimmy Jones'n as I'm cashin'
In the semi-theocratic
Weapon cache'n checks imbalanced
Chemically unstable attic
Bat **** crazy poison gases
Spewin' power-trippin' fascist
Cataclysmic autocratic
Devolution clash of classes
Resolution's prehistoric
Meteoric democratic
So I'm risin' from the ashes
From dismayin' to conveyin'
How I'm goin' super Saiyan
When the treasure hordes of Mordor lords
Corrupt the men of Numenor
For Bard the Bowman heroes
Are the roles that I am playin'
In shadows of the Arkenstone
When I go dragon slayin'
Apr 1, 2017
Apr 1, 2017 at 1:05 AM UTC
She steps out of herself
Literally speaking.
Takes a step
Her flesh opens,
Her muscles and bones
Advance alone.
No blood is shed.
She's just trying to be true.
Takes another step
Her muscles fall off
They lay on the ground
Twitching with energy.
Just her bones now.
Her bones
White and strong
Yellowed and brittle
Either way
They are all that support her now.
She has stepped out of herself
As much as she can.
If she takes another step
Will she simply disintegrate?
May 20, 2010
May 20, 2010 at 7:29 PM UTC
Sometimes I think my
expectations of being
human are too high.
Sep 25, 2013
Sep 25, 2013 at 10:52 PM UTC