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RAJ NANDY Sep 2018
Dear Poet Friends, Torin Galleshaw from Charlotte NC, a Member of this Site, had requested me to compose about the Rise of Third *****. Therefore, I have commenced with the causes for its Rise in my Part One posted below. Planning to compose Part Two with ******’s Blitzkrieg campaign of Poland later. It is unfortunate that I am unable to post related Maps & Photos for better appreciation of my Readers! Such options are not available for us here! However, I have managed to post a copy with maps & photos in the E-mail ID of my friend Torin!  Kindly give comments only after reading this researched work of mine, during your spare time.  Thanking you, - Raj, New Delhi.

            STORY OF SECOND WORLD WAR – PART ONE
                            RISE OF THE THIRD *****
                                       By Raj Nandy

                                  INTRODUCTION
In this part I shall mainly deal with the causes leading to the Second World War,
Which had also created favourable conditions for the rise of Third ***** under ******.
The word ‘*****’ derives from old German word ‘rihhi’ meaning ‘realm’;  
But is also used to designate a kingdom or an empire in a broader sense.
Historically, the First ***** was the Medieval Holy Roman Empire which lasted till the end of the 19th Century.
While the Second ***** was the First German Empire from 1871 to 1918, when dynamic Otto Von Bismark had united all of Germany,
Which ended with its defeat in World War One and birth of the Weimar Republic.
The Third ***** refers to the **** German Empire under ******, Which lasted from 1933 till 1945, for twelve traumatic eventful years!
Historians opine that the ending of a war is equally important as
its beginning;
Since the causes for the start of a war is often to be found embedded in its ending!
The First World War came to an end on 28th of June 1919 as we all know.
With the signing of the Treaty at Versailles by the German Foreign Minister Hermann Muller and the ‘Big Four’.  (Britain, France, America, & Italy)
Yet it is rather ironical, that this Peace Treaty of Versailles, considered as President Woodrow Wilson’s ‘brain child’,
Had sowed the seeds of discontent resulting in the outbreak of the Second World War, and Adolf ******’s dramatic rise!

Though several causes are attributed for the outbreak of the Second World War by our Military Historians.
Let me try to summarise those causes which are considered to be more relevant.
Commencing with the harsh Treaty of Versailles, the British and French Policy of Appeasement, followed by Hyperinflation and the Great Depression of 1929, and failure of The League of Nations to maintain peace;  
Are relevant factors which collectively combined resulting in the outbreak of the devastating Second World War, scarring human memories for all time!
But not forgetting ******’s forceful and persuasive eloquence which mesmerised the Germans to rise up as a powerful Nation once again.
Since ****** promised to avenge the humiliation faced by Germany following the Treaty of Versailles,
Which was drawn up with vengeance, and dictated by the victorious Allies!

THE  ARMISTICE  AND TREATY OF VERSAILLES:    
Armistice means a truce for cessation of hostilities, which provides a breathing space for negotiating a lasting peace.
Now the Armistice ceasing the First World War was signed inside the railway carriage of the Allied Supreme Commander Marshal Foch, in the Forest of Compiegne,
On the 11th of November 1919, sixty km north of Paris, between the victorious Allies and vanquished Germany.
But in the meantime naval blockade of Germany had continued, and the German Rhineland was evacuated and partly occupied by the combined Allied troops!
Release of Allied POWs interned civilians followed subsequently; And the Reparations Clause of monetary compensation was strictly imposed on Germany!
Now, following a wide spread German Sailor’s Revolt towards the end of October 1918, Emperor Kaiser Wilhelm-II had abdicated;
And on the 9th of November Friedrich Ebert, as the new Social Democrat President of Germany, authorised his representative to sign the Compiegne Armistice.
We should remember here that this Armistice seeking cessation of hostilities did not stipulate any unconditional surrender;
And the signing of the Armistice by the German Social Democrats, was considered as ‘a stab in the back of the German army’ by majority of the Germans!
These issues get repeatedly mentioned by Adolf ****** in his eloquent speeches subsequently,
To arouse the spirit of German Nationalism, and resurgence of the ‘Master Aryan Race’ of the Germans, - in Germany!

The Versailles Treaty was signed on 28th of June 1919, exactly five years after the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand which had sparked World War One.
Let me mention few aspects of this Treaty which was detested by the Germans!
Germany lost 13% of its land, 12% of its people, 48% of its iron resources, 15% of its agricultural production, and 10% of its coal, following its implementation!
German army was reduced to 100,000 men, its Navy reduced to 36 ships with no submarines, its Air Force banned, and its union with Austria forbidden.
Now to use a Shakespearean phrase the ‘unkindest cut of all’ came in the shape of Article 231,  the ‘War Guilt Clause’ of the Versailles Treaty,
Which provided the legal basis for the payment of war reparations by Germany.
The reparation amount of 132 billion gold marks (US $33 billion) to cover the civilian damage caused during the war, now had to be paid by Germany!
Thus the humiliation, resentment, and the virtual economic strangulation following the Versailles Treaty,
Was exploited by extremist groups such as ******’s **** Party.
And in the decades to follow, ******’s Nazis would take full control of Germany!

NOTES: Following Versailles Treaty, Alsace-Lorraine captured by Germany in 1870 was returned to France. The SAAR German coalfield region was give to France for 15 yrs. Poland became independent with a corridor to the sea dividing Germany into two. Danzing, a major port in East Prussia, became a free city under the League of Nation. Finland, Lithuania, Latvia, & Czechoslovakia became independent. Industrial area of German Rhineland, forming a buffer zone between Belgium &France,was
demilitarised.

WOODROW WILSON’S  14 - POINT PEACE INITIATIVE  & THE LEAGUE OF NATIONS:
American President Wilson was an idealist and a visionary, who in a speech to the US Congress on 8th Jan 1918,
Introduced a 14 Point Charter as a platform for building global peace, based on the principles of transparency, self-determination, and Democracy.
But for the first time in US history, the Republican-led US Senate rejected this Peace Treaty, and prevented America from joining the newly created League!
The US Senate wanted to retain its sovereignty without external entanglements;
Free from the League of Nation’s political dictates in its foreign commitments!
The Irish immigrants refused to support Wilson's Fourteen Points because Wilson was concerned about stopping WWI, rather than forcing the British to set Ireland free.
Many Jews also refused to back Wilson, since he was paying too much attention to the War, and not enough to the Balfour Declaration of 02 Nov 1917, -
Which promised an Independent Jewish State with a distinct Jewish identity.

The League of Nations had emerged from Wilson’s 14 Points on the 10th Jan 1920, with its HQs at Geneva, Switzerland, but it had no peacekeeping forces those days!
The League had failed to prevent invasion of Chinese Manchuria in 1932 by Japan;
Italy’s invasion of Ethiopia in 1935; annexation of Sudetenland and Austria by Germany!
The Axis countries Germany, Italy, and Japan, withdrew from the League subsequently.
Thus the League of Nations was disbanded in 1946 officially!
But President Wilson’s ceaseless efforts for global peace did not go unrecognised,
Since on the 10th of December 1920, he was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize!
While his disbanded League of Nations, as the first global humanitarian organisation,
Continued to survive in spirit with the establishment of United Nations Organisation on the 24th October, 1945.

ECONOMIC CAUSES - FOLLOWED BY THE GREAT DEPRESSION OF 1929 :
Germany emerged from the First World War with loss of 25,000 square miles of territory;
Loss of seven million inhabitants, and a staggering debt imposed by the Versailles Treaty!
The Wiemar Republic, after abdication of Emperor Kaiser Wilhelm-II  to Holland,
For the first time in German history, established a Democratic Constitution with Friedrich Ebert as its first President.
But The Republic first had to consolidate itself by squashing the Spartacist Revolt of January 1919 led by the extreme Leftists, and inspired by the Russian Bolshevik Communists!
The Freikorps, in March 1920, an Ex-Soldiers Rightist Group, tried to overthrow the Wiemar Republic with support of their Rightist allies and their own veteran troops!
This was soon followed by a Communist attempt to takeover of the Industrial Rhur;
But fortunately, all these uprisings against the Republic were effectively subdued!
But the 33 Billion Dollars of Reparations hung over the Wiemar Republic like the legendary ‘Sword of Damocles’, followed by the Great Depression of 1929;
Coupled with the ‘Policy of Appeasement’ practised by the British and the French;
Became the most important causes for ******’s expansionist ambition and his short- lived meteoric rise to fame!

GERMAN PAPER CURRENCY & HYPERINFLATION:
Gold Mark was the currency used by the German Empire from 1873 to 1914 only.
But to pay for the costs of the ongoing First World War, Germany suspended the gold standard, and decided to fund the war by Borrowings entirely,
Hoping to pay back the loans after Germany achieves Victory.
But having lost the war, and faced with a massive debt imposed by the Allies,
Exchange rate of the Mark against the US Dollar steadily devalued and declined!
Papiermark became the German currency from 04th August 1914 onward, when link between the Mark and gold reserve was abandoned,
In order to pay for the ongoing expenses of the First World War with paper marks, which was constantly being printed!
But later after the war, when the London Ultimatum of May 1921 demanded payment of war reparations in gold or in foreign currency only,
Even more paper marks got printed by the Republic to buy those foreign currency !
By December 1922 hyper-inflationary trends emerged, when the US Dollar became equivalent to 7,400 German Marks, with a 15-fold increase in the cost of living !
By the fall of 1922 when it became impossible for Germany to make further payments,
The French and Belgium armies occupied Germany’s Ruhr Valley area, its prime industrial region!
French and the Belgians hoped to extract payment in kind, but a strike by the workers of the Ruhr area their hopes belied!
The Wiemar Republic printed more paper notes to pay and support the workers of the Ruhr area,
When hyperinflation had peaked at 4,210,500,000,000 German Marks, to a US Dollar!
Paper currency having become worthless, some form of ancient barter system began to be used instead!

STABILISATION OF GERMAN ECONOMY WITH ONSET OF  THE GREAT DEPRESSION:
Following the hyperinflation Chancellor Josef Cuno’s cabinet resigned in August 1923,
When Gustav Stresemann became the new Chancellor of Germany.
Stresemann’s Government had introduced the Rentenmark as a new stable currency,
To end the hyperinflation which had plagued Wiemar Germany.  
Rentenmark was backed by real goods, agricultural land and business,
Since gold was not available in a beleaguered German economy those days!
When One Rentenmark was equivalent to One million, million, old German Mark;
While One US Dollar was equivalent to only 4.2 Rentenmarks.
Though Stresemann’s Government lasted for 100 days only, Stresemann continued to serve as the Foreign Minister in successive Coalition Governments of the Republic,
Till his death in the month of October 1929, but working for the betterment of Germany all the while!
His ‘Policy of Fulfilment’ stabilised German economy with a 200 Million Dollars loan from America under the Dawes Plan in 1924,
Which had also ensured the evacuation of France from the occupied Ruhr area, with their future reparations payments ensured.
Stresemann’s signing of the Locarno Pact in London on 1st Dec 1925 with France, Belgium, Great Britain, and Italy, was considered as his achievement and a feat!
Since it made Germany to enter the League of Nations ensuring stability and peace;
While the Noble Peace Prize was awarded to Stresemann for his efforts in 1926!
Later, the Young Plan of 1929 further reduced German reparations payment by 20%, while extending the time frame for the payments to 59 years!
But following a sudden Wall Street Stock Market Crash in late October of 1929,
The American Banks were forced to recall money from Europe and the Young Plan;.
Which created acute financial distress when unemployment soared to 33.7%  in Germany in 1931, and quickly rose to 40% during the following year!
Lausanne Conference was held in Switzerland in 1932 by Great Britain, Germany, and France, to further reduce the War Debts imposed by the Versailles Treaty.
But in Dec 1932, the US Congress had rejected this Allied War Debt Reduction Plan completely.
However, no further payments were made by Germany due to the Great Depression;
And by 1932, Germany had paid only 1/8 of the total sum required to be paid as per their pending wartime reparations!

NOTES: Rentenmark was issued on 15 October 1923 to stop the hyperinflation in Wiemeer Germany. Reichmark was the currency in Germany from 1924 to 20 June 1948 in West Germany , when it was replaced by the Deutsche Mark; but had continued in East Germany until 23 June when it was replaced by East German Mark.
During the Stresemann Years of Stability from 1924 to 1929, (prior to the onset of the Great Depression), with help of American financial aid, created more housing & production in Germany. Dada & Expressionist Art forms flourished, followed by modern architecture; also the Philosophy of Existentialism of Thomas Mann – influenced the Western culture. Paul Whiteman's Band for the first time brought in American Jazz to Germany, and Jazz signified the liberation of German youth and women folks of the younger generation generally. But the US Stock Market Crash had unfortunately ended this short lived euphoria, and as it soon became a global phenomena!                                


FAILURE OF THE WIEMAR REPUBLIC & THE GREAT DEPRESSION WHICH BENEFITED THE NAZIS:
Last Days of Wiemar Republic:
Ever since Otto Von Bismarck that ‘Man of iron and steel’, united Germany into a single Empire in the year Eighteen Hundred & Seventy One,
For the first time a Constitution for a Parliamentary Democracy was drawn up in August 1919, in the eastern German city of Wiemar.
Wiemar was the intellectual centre of Germany associated with musicians like Franz List, and writers like Goethe and Schiller.
The Wiemar Republic of Germany which had lasted from 1919 till 1933 had seen,
20 different Coalition Governments, with frequent elections and changing loyalties!
Due to a system of proportional representations, and the presence of very many political parties those days,  
No single party could obtain absolute sole majority in the Reichstag Parliament!
The longest Coalition Govt. was under Chancellor Bruning, which had lasted for only 2 years and 61 days!     (From 30 March 1930 to 30 May 1932)
Now, to understand the reasons for the failure to maintain a Democratic form of Government by the Wiemar Republic,
It becomes necessary to monitor its ‘dying gasps’ during its closing years so to speak!
Since faced with the economic depression Chancellor Bruning had worsened the unemployment situation by adopting stringent and unpopular measures!
Thereby having lost popular political support, Bruning with the approval of President Hindenburg, invoked emergency powers under Article 48, to survive his last few months and years!
During the years 1931 and 1932  it is seen, Bruning had used this Emergency Clause 44 and 66 times respectively!
Thus his so-called ‘Presidential form of Govt.’ had undermined Wiemar Democracy!
If Burning was the ‘Republic’s Undertaker’, now remains a debatable issue of History!
But Burning’s vigorous campaign made Hindenburg to get re-elected as the President;
Thereby he had removed the defeated Adolf ****** out of the Presidential race!
Therefore, later when ****** became the Chancellor on 30 Jan 1933, Bruning had very wisely fled from Germany!

Following Bruning’s resignation in May 1932 came Chancellor Papen’s ‘Cabinet of Barons’ consisting of individuals who were not members of the German Reichstag!
While in the election of July 1932 ******’s **** Party won 230 seats, making it the largest party in the Reichstag.
But ****** refused to form a coalition with Papen, because he wanted to become the Chancellor himself !
Now General von Schleicher advised President Hindenburg that the German Army,
Would not accept Papen’s use of Article 48 to remain as the Chancellor of Germany!
Therefore following Papen’s resignation, Schleicher took over on the 04th of December 1932 as the new German Chancellor.
Schleicher tried to restore a democratic form of government to get the Wiemar Republic back on its feet.
But in the ensuing political power struggle Papen wanted to take revenge on Schleicher for his removal from power and defeat.
So Papen persuaded Adolf ****** to become the Chancellor, and retain for himself the post of Vice-Chancellor.
In doing so, Papen mistakenly thought that he would be able to reign in the self-assertive Adolf ******!
Papen finally made President Hindenburg agree to his proposal, and on 30th of Jan 1933,
****** became the New Chancellor, with approval of the President!
A month later a sudden fire in the Reichstag made ****** invoke Article 48, in order to squash the suspected Left Wing Communists;
But while doing so, the Press was muzzled, and many Civil Rights of the German people were abolished, inclusive of their right of assembly and free speech!
****** acted swiftly, and by passing the Enabling Act on 23 March, 1933, armed himself  with dictatorial powers for enacting laws without the approval of the Reichstag whenever necessary!
Thereby ****** threw Democracy to History’s wasteland most unfortunately!
Following the death of Hindenburg on 29 June 1934, ****** combined the powers of the President and the Chancellor, and became known as the FUHRER!
Historians generally agree the Enabling Act of 1933, as the date for establishment of The German Third *****.

THE POLICY OF APPEASEMENT AND GERMAN AGGRESSION:
The horrors of trench warfare with the rattling of machine guns and bursting of poisonous nerve gas shells,
Even after 20 years remained fresh, in the minds of all World War One participants!
Therefore, it was natural for British and French Prime Ministers Neville Chamberlain and Edouard Daladier initially,
To grant political and material concessions to an aggressive Germany, for the sake of peace and stability.
Thus the diplomatic stance of Appeasement between 1935 and 1939 followed by the French and the British, was mainly to avoid another dangerous armed conflict!
But the trusting Mr. Chamberlain had underestimated ******, who had served in the German Army as a Corporal, winning the Iron Cross during the last Great War!
****** was not afraid of war, but wanted to avenge the Treaty of Versailles and its punitive dictated peace;
And also establish for the superior German Aryan race a lasting Third *****!
Therefore, having consolidated his power as the Fuhrer along with his trusted **** Party cronies, he withdrew from the League of Nations in October 1933.
Introduced conscription in March 1935 in Germany, and embarked on a mission to rebuild a new modernised German Army for combat on land, air, and sea!
In March 1936, in another open violation of the Versailles Treaty, ****** re-occupied the demilitarised Rhineland, followed by a Treaty of Alliance with Japan and Italy.
The much desired Anschluss (or merger) with Austria, the country of birth of ******,
Saw the German Army in March 1938, triumphantly and peacefully marching into Vienna!
Now with the Munich Conference of 19 September 1938, this Policy of Appeasement is said to have reached its climatic peak!
The Sudetenland area, consisted of 3 million Germans were made
to join Czechoslovakia when the frontiers were drawn in 1918-19,
Much against the wishes of the Germans!
When ****** wanted to annex this Sudetenland area, Britain, France, Germany and Italy, met at Munich to diffuse an explosive situation peacefully.
It was agreed at Munich that once Sudetenland joins Germany, ****** will not invade Czechoslovakia and honour the terms of peace.
But on 15th March 1939, in violation of the Munich Agreement, ******’s army invade and occupied Czechoslovakia, thereby openly flouting the Policy of Appeasement!

NOTES: ******’s desire for ‘LEBENSRAUM’ or ‘increase of living space’ for the Germans, commenced with his ‘Border Wars’, which soon turned into a Global War because of the ‘appeasement policy’ of the Allies. ****** had secured his Eastern Front with a treaty with the Stalin, since fighting on two fronts would have been very difficult for the Germans.

Now when ******’s army invaded Poland on 1st of September 1939, it became ‘the last straw on the camel’s back’ for the Western Allies!
Committed to the Anglo-Polish Defence Pact of 25 August, 1939, both Britain and France declared war on Germany,
Which I propose to narrate in Part Two of my Second World War Story.  
The Policy of Appeasement no doubt gave some time for Britain, to regain its depleted military strength,  but Adolf ****** had viewed it as a sign of weakness!
With Russia and America initially as non-participants, ****** became more confident and arrogant!
Thereby turning his border wars into a global conflagration lasting six long years.
When the use of advanced technology, resulted in greater loss and casualties;  
Which was followed by the holocaust and unprecedented human suffering!
I would like to conclude my present narration with a poem by English soldier-poet Seigfried Sassoon, who participated in the First World War on the Western Front.

DREAMERS  -  by Siegfried Sassoon
Soldiers are citizens of death's gray land,
Drawing no dividend from time's to-morrows.
In the great hour of destiny they stand,
Each with his feuds, and jealousies, and sorrows.
Soldiers are sworn to action; they must win
Some flaming, fatal ****** with their lives.
Soldiers are dreamers; when the guns begin
They think of firelit homes, clean beds, and wives.

I see them in foul dug-outs, gnawed by rats,
And in the ruined trenches, lashed with rain,
Dreaming of things they did with ***** and bats,
And mocked by hopeless longing to regain
Bank-holidays, and picture shows, and spats,
And going to the office in the train.
…………………………………………………………………………
Thanks for reading patiently, from Raj Nandy of New Delhi.
  *ALL COPYRIGHTS ARE WITH THE AUTHOR ONLY
Meena Menon Sep 2021
Flicker Shimmer Glow

The brightest star can shine even with thick black velvet draped over it.  
Quartz, lime and salt crystals formed a glass ball.
The dark womb held me, warm and soft.  
My mom called my cries when I was born the most sorrowful sound she had ever heard.  
She said she’d never heard a baby make a sound like that.    
I’d open my eyes in low light until the world’s light healed rather than hurt.  
The summer before eighth grade, July 1992,
I watched a shooting star burn by at 100,000 miles per hour as I stood on the balcony  
while my family celebrated my birthday inside.  
It made it into the earth’s atmosphere
but it didn’t look like it was coming down;
I know it didn’t hit the ground but it burned something in the time it was here.  
The glass ball of my life cracked inside.  
Light reflected off the salt crystal cracks.  
I saw the beauty of the light within.  
Nacre from my shell kept those cracks from getting worse,
a wild pearl as defense mechanism.  
In 2001, I quit my job after they melted and poured tar all over my life.  
All summer literature class bathtubs filled with rose hip oil cleaned the tar.  
That fall logic and epistemology classes spewed black ink all over my philosophy
written over ten years then.  
Tar turned to asphalt when I met someone from my old job for a drink in November
and it paved a road for my life that went to the hospital I was in that December
where it sealed the roof on my life
when I was almost murdered there
and in February after meeting her for another drink.  
They lit a fire at the top of the glacier and pushed the burning pile of black coal off the edge,
burnt red, looking like flames falling into the valley.  
While that blazed the side of the cliff something lit an incandescent light.  
The electricity from the metal lightbulb ***** went through wires and heated the filament between until it glowed.  
I began putting more work into emotional balance from things I learned at AA meetings.  
In Spring 2003, the damage that the doctors at the hospital in 2001 had done
made it harder for light to reflect from the cracks in the glass ball.
I’d been eating healthy and trying to get regular exercises since 1994
but in Spring 2003 I began swimming for an hour every morning .  
The water washed the pollution from the burning coals off
And then I escaped in July.  
I moved to London to study English Language and Linguistics.  
I would’ve studied English Language and Literature.  
I did well until Spring 2004 when I thought I was being stalked.  
I thought I was manic.  
I thought I was being stalked.  
I went home and didn’t go back for my exams after spring holiday.  
Because I felt traumatized and couldn’t write poetry anymore,
I used black ink to write my notes for my book on trauma and the Russian Revolution.
I started teaching myself German.  
I stayed healthy.  
In 2005, my parents went to visit my mom’s family in Malaysia for two weeks.
I thought I was being stalked.  
I knew I wasn’t manic.  
I thought I was being stalked.  
I told my parents when they came home.  
They thought I was manic.  
I showed them the shoe prints in the snow of different sizes from the woods to the windows.  
They thought I was manic.  
I was outside of my comfort zone.  
I moved to California. I found light.  
I made light,
the light reflected off the salt crystals I used to heal the violence inflicted on me from then on.  
The light turned the traffic lights to not just green from red
but amber and blue.  
The light turned the car signals left and right.  
The light reflected off of salt crystals, light emitting diodes,
electrical energy turned directly to light,
electroluminescence.  
The electrical currents flowed through,
illuminating.  
Alone in the world, I moved to California in July 2005
but in August  I called the person I escaped in 2003,
the sulfur and nitrogen that I hated.  
He didn’t think I was manic but I never said anything.
I never told him why I asked him to move out to California.  
When his coal seemed like only pollution,
I asked him to leave.  
He threatened me.  
I called the authorities.  
They left me there.
He laughed.  
Then the violence came.  
****:  stabbed and punched, my ****** bruised, purple and swollen.  
The light barely reflected from the glass ball wIth cracks through all the acid rain, smoke and haze.
It would take me half an hour to get my body to do what my mind told it to after.  
My dad told me my mom had her cancer removed.
The next day, the coal said if I wanted him to leave he’d leave.  
I booked his ticket.
I drove him to the airport.  
Black clouds gushed the night before for the first time in months,
the sky clear after the rain.  
He was gone and I was free,
melted glass, heated up and poured—
looked like fire,
looked like the Snow Moon in February
with Mercury in the morning sky.  
I worked through ****.  
I worked to overcome trauma.  
Electricity between touch and love caused acid rain, smoke, haze, and mercury
to light the discharge lamps, streetlights and parking lot lights.
Then I changed the direction of the light waves.  
Like lead glass breaks up the light,
lead from the coal, cleaned and replaced by potassium,
glass cut clearly, refracting the light,
electrolytes,
electrical signals lit through my body,
thick black velvet drapes gone.  





















Lava

I think that someone wrote into some palm leaf a manuscript, a gift, a contract.  
After my parents wedding, while they were still in India,
they found out that my dad’s father and my mom’s grandfather worked for kings administering temples and collecting money for their king from the farmers that worked the rice paddies each king owned.  They both left their homes before they left for college.  
My dad, a son of a brahmin’s son,
grew up in his grandmother’s house.  
His mother was not a Brahmin.  
My mother grew up in Malaysia where she saw the children from the rubber plantation
when she walked to school.  
She doesn’t say what caste she is.  
He went to his father’s house, then college.  
He worked, then went to England, then Canada.  
She went to India then Canada.  
They moved to the United States around Christmas 1978
with my brother while she was pregnant with me.  
My father signed a contract with my mother.  
My parents took ashes and formed rock,
the residue left in brass pots in India,
the rocks, so hot, they turned back to lava miles away before turning back to ash again,
then back to rock,
the lava from a super volcano,
the ash purple and red.  


















Circles on a Moss Covered Volcano

The eruption beatifies the magma.  
It becomes obsidian,
only breaks with a fracture,
smooth circles where it breaks.  

My mom was born on the grass
on a lawn
in a moss covered canyon at the top of a volcanic island.  
My grandfather lived in Malaysia before the Japanese occupied.  
When the volcano erupted,
the lava dried at the ocean into black sand.  
The British allied with the Communist Party of Malaysia—
after they organized.  
After the Americans defeated the Japanese at Pearl Harbor,
the British took over Malaysia again.  
They kept different groups apart claiming they were helping them.  
The black sand had smooth pebbles and sharp rocks.  
Ethnic Malay farmers lived in Kampongs, villages.  
Indians lived on plantations.  
The Chinese lived in towns and urban areas.  
Ethnic Malays wanted independence.
In 1946, after strikes, demonstrations, and boycotts
the British agreed to work with them.  
The predominantly Chinese Communist Party of Malaysia went underground,
guerrilla warfare against the British,
claiming their fight was for independence.  
For the British, that emergency required vast powers
of arrest, detention without trial and deportation to defeat terrorism.  
The Emergency became less unpopular as the terrorism became worse.  
The British were the iron that brought oxygen through my mom’s body.  
She loved riding on her father’s motorcycle with him
by the plantations,
through the Kampongs
and to the city, half an hour away.  
The British left Malaysia independent in 1957
with Malaysian nationalists holding most state and federal government offices.  
As the black sand stretches towards the ocean,
it becomes big stones of dried lava, flat and smooth.  

My mom thought her father and her uncle were subservient to the British.  
She thought all things, all people were equal.  
When her father died when she was 16, 1965,
they moved to India,
my mother,
a foreigner in India, though she’s Indian.  
She loved rock and roll and mini skirts
and didn’t speak the local language.  
On the dried black lava,
it can be hard to know the molten lava flickers underneath there.  
Before the Korean War,
though Britain and the United States wanted
an aggressive resolution
condemning North Korea,
they were happy
that India supported a draft resolution
condemning North Korea
for breach of the peace.  
During the Korean War,
India, supported by Third World and other Commonwealth nations,
opposed United States’ proposals.
They were able to change the U.S. resolution
to include the proposals they wanted
and helped end the war.  
China wanted the respect of Third World nations
and saw the United States as imperialist.  
China thought India was a threat to the Third World
by taking aid from the United States and the Soviets.  
Pakistan could help with that and a seat at the United Nations.  
China wanted Taiwan’s seat at the UN.
My mother went to live with her uncle,
a communist negotiator for a corporation,
in India.  
A poet,
he threw parties and invited other artists, musicians and writers.  
I have the same brown hyperpigmentation at my joints that he had.  
During the day, only the steam from the hot lava can be seen.  
In 1965, Pakistani forces went into Jammu and Kashmir with China’s support.  
China threatened India after India sent its troops in.  
Then they threatened again before sending their troops to the Indian border.  
The United States stopped aid to Pakistan and India.
Pakistan agreed to the UN ceasefire agreement.  
Pakistan helped China get a seat at the UN
and tried to keep the west from escalating in Vietnam.  
The smoldering sound of the lava sizzles underneath the dried lava.  
When West Pakistan refused to allow East Pakistan independence,
violence between Bengalis and Biharis developed into upheaval.  
Bengalis moved to India
and India went into East Pakistan.  
Pakistan surrendered in December 1971.  
East Pakistan became independent Bangladesh

The warm light of the melted lava radiates underneath but burns.  
In 1974, India tested the Smiling Buddha,
a nuclear bomb.  
After Indira Gandhi’s conviction for election fraud in 1973,
Marxist Professor Narayan called for total revolution
and students protested all over India.  
With food shortages, inflation and regional disputes
like Sikh separatists training in Pakistan for an independent Punjab,
peasants and laborers joined the protests.  
Railway strikes stopped the economy.  
In 1975, Indira Gandhi, the Iron Lady,
declared an Emergency,
imprisoning political opponents, restricting freedoms and restricting the press,
claiming threats to national security
because the war with Pakistan had just ended.  
The federal government took over Kerala’s communist dominated government and others.  

My mom could’ve been a dandelion, but she’s more like thistle.  
She has the center that dries and flutters in the wind,
beautiful and silky,
spiny and prickly,
but still fluffy, downy,
A daisy.
They say thistle saved Scotland from the Norse.  
Magma from the volcano explodes
and the streams of magma fly into the air.  
In the late 60s,
the civil rights movement rose
against the state in Northern Ireland
for depriving Catholics
of influence and opportunity.
The Northern Irish police,
Protestant and unionist, anti-catholic,
responded violently to the protests and it got worse.  
In 1969, the British placed Arthur Young,
who had worked at the Federation of Malaya
at the time of their Emergency
at the head of the British military in Northern Ireland.
The British military took control over the police,
a counter insurgency rather than a police force,
crowd control, house searches, interrogation, and street patrols,
use of force against suspects and uncooperative citizens.  
Political crimes were tolerated by Protestants but not Catholics.  
The lava burns the rock off the edge of the volcano.  

On January 30, 1972, ****** Sunday,  
British Army policing killed 13 unarmed protesters
fighting for their rights over their neighborhood,
protesting the internment of suspected nationalists.
That led to protests across Ireland.  
When banana leaves are warmed,
oil from the banana leaves flavors the food.  
My dad flew from Canada to India in February 1972.  
On February 4, my dad met my mom.  
On February 11, 1972,
my dad married my mom.  
They went to Canada,
a quartz singing bowl and a wooden mallet wrapped in suede.  
The rock goes down with the lava, breaking through the rocks as it goes down.  
In March 1972, the British government took over
because they considered the Royal Ulster Police and the Ulster Special Constabulary
to be causing most of the violence.  
The lava blocks and reroutes streams,
melts snow and ice,
flooding.  
Days later, there’s still smoke, red.  
My mom could wear the clothes she liked
without being judged
with my dad in Canada.  
She didn’t like asking my dad for money.
My dad, the copper helping my mother use that iron,
wanted her to go to college and finish her bachelors degree.
She got a job.  
In 1976, the police took over again in Northern Ireland
but they were a paramilitary force—
armored SUVs, bullet proof jackets, combat ready
with the largest computerized surveillance system in the UK,
high powered weapons,
trained in counter insurgency.  
Many people were murdered by the police
and few were held accountable.  
Most of the murdered people were not involved in violence or crime.  
People were arrested under special emergency powers
for interrogation and intelligence gathering.  
People tried were tried in non-jury courts.  
My mom learned Malayalam in India
but didn’t speak well until living with my dad.  
She also learned to cook after getting married.  
Her mother sent her recipes; my dad cooked for her—
turmeric, cumin, coriander, cayenne and green chiles.  
Having lived in different countries,
my mom’s food was exposed to many cultures,
Chinese and French.
Ground rock, minerals and glass
covered the ground
from the ash plume.  
She liked working.  

A volcano erupted for 192 years,
an ice age,
disordered ices, deformed under pressure
and ordered ice crystals, brittle in the ice core records.  
My mother liked working.  
Though Khomeini was in exile by the 1970s in Iran,
more people, working and poor,
turned to him and the ****-i-Ulama for help.
My mom didn’t want kids though my dad did.
She agreed and in 1978 my brother was born.
Iran modernized but agriculture and industry changed so quickly.  
In January 1978, students protested—
censorship, surveillance, harassment, illegal detention and torture.  
Young people and the unemployed joined.  
My parents moved to the United States in December 1978.  
The regime used a lot of violence against the protesters,
and in September 1978 declared martial law in Iran.  
Troops were shooting demonstrators.
In January 1979, the Shah and his family fled.  
On February 11, 1979, my parents’ anniversary,
the Iranian army declared neutrality.  
I was born in July 1979.
The chromium in emeralds and rubies colors them.
My brother was born in May and I was born in July.

Obsidian—
iron, copper and chromium—
isn’t a gas
but it isn’t a crystal;
it’s between the two,
the ordered crystal and the disordered gas.  
They made swords out of obsidian.  





Warm Light Shatters

The eruption beatifies the magma.  
It becomes obsidian,
only breaks with a fracture,
smooth circles where it breaks.  

My dad was born on a large flat rock on the edge of the top
of a hill,
Molasses, sweet and dark, the potent flavor dominates,
His father, the son of a Brahmin,
His mother from a lower caste.
His father’s family wouldn’t touch him,
He grew up in his mother’s mother’s house on a farm.  
I have the same brown hyperpigmentation spot on my right hand that he has.

In 1901, D’Arcy bought a 60 year concession for oil exploration In Iran.
The Iranian government extended it for another 32 years in 1933.
At that time oil was Iran’s “main source of income.”
In 1917’s Balfour Declaration, the British government proclaimed that they favored a national home for the Jews in Palestine and their “best endeavors to facilitate the achievement” of that.

The British police were in charge of policing in the mandate of Palestine.  A lot of the policemen they hired were people who had served in the British army before, during the Irish War for Independence.  
The army tried to stop how violent the police were, police used torture and brutality, some that had been used during the Irish War for Independence, like having prisoners tied to armored cars and locomotives and razing the homes of people in prison or people they thought were related to people thought to be rebels.
The police hired Arab police and Jewish police for lower level policing,
Making local people part of the management.
“Let Arab police beat up Arabs and Jewish police beat up Jews.”

The lava blocks and reroutes streams, melts snow and ice, flooding.
In 1922, there were 83,000 Jews, 71,000 Christians, and 589,000 Muslims.
The League If Nations endorsed the British Mandate.
During an emergency, in the 1930s, British regulations allowed collective punishment, punishing villages for incidents.
Local officers in riots often deserted and also shared intelligence with their own people.
The police often stole, destroyed property, tortured and killed people.  
Arab revolts sapped the police power over Palestinians by 1939.

My father’s mother was from a matrilineal family.
My dad remembers tall men lining up on pay day to respectfully wait for her, 5 feet tall.  
She married again after her husband died.
A manager from a tile factory,
He spoke English so he supervised finances and correspondence.
My dad, a sunflower, loved her: she scared all the workers but exuded warmth to the people she loved.

Obsidian shields people from negative energy.
David Cargill founded the Burmah Oil Co. in 1886.
If there were problems with oil exploration in Burma and Indian government licenses, Persian oil would protect the company.  
In July 1906, many European oil companies, BP, Royal Dutch Shell and others, allied to protect against the American oil company, Standard Oil.
D’Arcy needed money because “Persian oil took three times as long to come on stream as anticipated.”
Burmah Oil Co. began the Anglo-Persian Oil Co. as a subsidiary.
Ninety-seven percent of British Petroleum was owned by Burmah Oil Co.
By 1914, the British government owned 51% of the Anglo-Persian Oil Co.  
Anglo-Persian acquired independence from Burmah Oil and Royal Dutch Shell with two million pounds from the British government.

The lava burns the rock off the edge of the volcano.
In 1942, after the Japanese took Burma,
the British destroyed their refineries before leaving.
The United Nations had to find other sources of oil.
In 1943, Japan built the Burma-Thailand Railroad with forced labor from the Malay peninsula who were mostly from the rubber plantations.

The rock goes down with the lava, breaking through the rocks as it goes down.
In 1945. Japan destroyed their refineries before leaving Burma.
Cargill, Watson and Whigham were on the Burmah Oil Co. Board and then the Anglo Iranian Oil Co. Board.  

In 1936 Palestine, boycotts, work stoppages, and violence against British police officials and soldiers compelled the government to appoint an investigatory commission.  
Leaders of Egypt, Trans Jordan, Syria and Iraq helped end the work stoppages.
The British government had the Peel Commission read letters, memoranda, and petitions and speak with British officials, Jews and Arabs.  
The Commission didn’t believe that Arabs and Jews could live together in a single Jewish state.
Because of administrative and financial difficulties the Colonial Secretary stated that to split Palestine into Arab and Jewish states was impracticable.  
The Commission recommended transitioning 250,000 Arabs and 1500 Jews with British control over their oil pipeline, their naval base and Jerusalem.  
The League of Nations approved.
“It will not remove the grievance nor prevent the recurrence,” Lord Peel stated after.
The Arab uprising was much more militant after Peel.  Thousands of Arabs were wounded, ten thousand were detained.  
In Sykes-Picot and the Husain McMahon agreements, the British promised the Arabs an independent state but they did not keep that promise.  
Representatives from the Arab states rejected the Peel recommendations.
United Nations General Assembly Resolution181 partitioned Palestine into Arab and Jewish states with an international regime for the city of Jerusalem backed by the United States and the Soviet Union.  

The Israeli Yishuv had strong military and intelligence organization —-  
the British recognized that their interest was with the Arabs and abstained from the vote.  
In 1948, Israel declared the establishment of its state.  
Ground rock, minerals, and gas covered the ground from the ash plume.
The Palestinian police force was disbanded and the British gave officers the option of serving in Malaya.

Though Truman, Eisenhower and Kennedy supported snd tried to get Israel to offer the Arabs concessions, it wasn’t a major priority and didn’t always approve of Israel’s plans.
Arabs that had supported the British to end Turkish rule stopped supporting the West.  
Many Palestinians joined left wing groups and violent third world movements.  
Seventy-eight percent of the territory of former Palestine was under Israel’s control.  

My dad left for college in 1957 and lived in an apartment above the United States Information services office.
Because he graduated at the top of his class, he was given a job with the public works department of the government on the electricity board.  
“Once in, you’ll never leave.”
When he wanted a job where he could do real work, his father was upset.
He broke the chains with bells for vespers.
He got a job in Calcutta at Kusum Products and left the government, though it was prestigious to work there.
In the chemical engineering division, one of the projects he worked on was to design a *** distillery, bells controlled by hammers, hammers controlled by a keyboard.
His boss worked in the United Kingdom for. 20 years before the company he worked at, part of Power Gas Corporation, asked him to open a branch in Calcutta.
He opened the branch and convinced an Industrialist to open a company doing the same work with him.  The branch he opened closed after that.  
My dad applied for labor certification to work abroad and was selected.  
His boss wrote a reference letter for my him to the company he left in the UK.  My dad sent it telling the company when he was leaving for the UK.  
The day he left for London, he got the letter they sent in the mail telling him to take the train to Sheffield the next day and someone from the firm would meet him at the station.  
His dad didn’t know he left, he didn’t tell him.
He broke the chains with chimes for schisms.


Anglo-Persian Oil became Anglo-Iranian Oil in 1935.
The British government used oil and Anglo-Persian oil to fight communism, have a stronger relationship with the United States and make the United Kingdom more powerful.  
The National Secularists, the Tudeh, and the Communists wanted to nationalize Iran’s oil and mobilized the Iranian people.
The British feared nationalization in Iran would incite political parties like the Secular Nationalists all over the world.  
In 1947, the Iranian government passed the Single Article Law that “[increased] investment In welfare benefits, health, housing, education, and implementation of Iranianization through substitution of foreigners” at Anglo-Iranian Oil Co.
“Anglo-Iranian Oil Company made more profit in 1950 than it paid to the Iranian government in royalties over the previous half century.”
The Anglo-Iranian Oil Company tried to negotiate a new concession and claimed they’d hire more Iranian people into jobs held by British and people from other nationalities at the company.
Their hospitals had segregated wards.  
On May 1, 1951, the Iranian government passed a bill that nationalized Anglo- Iranian Oil Co.’s holdings.  
During the day, only the steam from the hot lava can be seen.
In August 1953, the Iranian people elected Mossadegh from the Secular Nationalist Party as prime minister.
The British government with the CIA overthrew Mossadegh using the Iranian military after inducing protests and violent demonstrations.  
Anglo-Iranian Oil changed its name to British Petroleum in 1954.
Iranians believe that America destroyed Iran’s “last chance for democracy” and blamed America for Iran’s autocracy, its human rights abuses, and secret police.

The smoldering sound of the lava sizzles underneath the dried lava.  
In 1946, Executive Yuan wanted control over 4 groups of Islands in the South China Sea to have a stronger presence there:  the Paracels, the Spratlys, Macclesfield Bank, and the Pratas.
The French forces in the South China Sea would have been stronger than the Chinese Navy then.
French Naval forces were in the Gulf of Tonkin, U.S. forces were in the Taiwan Strait, the British were in Hong Kong, and the Portuguese were in Macao.
In the 1950s, British snd U.S. oil companies thought there might be oil in the Spratlys.  
By 1957, French presence in the South China Sea was hardly there.  

When the volcano erupted, the lava dried at the ocean into black sand.
By 1954, the Tudeh Party’s communist movement and  intelligence organization had been destroyed.  
Because of the Shah and his government’s westernization policies and disrespectful treatment of the Ulama, Iranians began identifying with the Ulama and Khomeini rather than their government.  
Those people joined with secular movements to overthrow the Shah.  

In 1966, Ne Win seized power from U Nu in Burma.
“Soldiers ruled Burma as soldiers.”
Ne Win thought that western political
Institutions “encouraged divisions.”
Minority groups found foreign support for their separatist goals.
The Karens and the Mons supported U Nu in Bangkok.  


Rare copper, a heavy metal, no alloys,
a rock in groundwater,
conducts electricity and heat.
In 1965, my Dad’s cousin met him at Heathrow, gave him a coat and £10 and brought him to a bed and breakfast across from Charing Cross Station where he’d get the train to Sheffield the next morning.
He took the train and someone met him at the train station.  
At the interview they asked him to design a grandry girder, the main weight bearing steel girder as a test.
Iron in the inner and outer core of the earth,
He’d designed many of those.  
He was hired and lived at the YMCA for 2 1/2 years.  
He took his mother’s family name, Menon, instead of his father’s, Varma.
In 1967, he left for Canada and interviewed at Bechtel before getting hired at Seagrams.  
Iron enables blood to carry oxygen.
His boss recommended him for Dale Carnegie’s leadership training classes and my dad joined the National Instrument Society and became President.
He designed a still In Jamaica,
Ordered all the parts, nuts and bolts,
Had all the parts shipped to Jamaica and made sure they got there.
His boss supervised the construction, installation and commission in Jamaica.
Quartz, heat and fade resistant, though he was an engineer and did the work of an engineer, my dad only had the title, technician so my dad’s boss thought he wasn’t getting paid enough but couldn’t get his boss to offer more than an extra $100/week or the title of engineer; he told my dad he thought he should leave.
In 1969, he got a job at Celanese, which made rayon.
He quit Celanese to work at McGill University and they allowed him to take classes to earn his MBA while working.  

The United States and Israel’s alliance was strong by 1967.
United Nations Security Council Resolution 242 at the end of the Third Arab Israeli War didn’t mention the Palestinians but mentioned the refugee problem.
After 1967, the Palestinians weren’t often mentioned and when mentioned only as terrorists.  
Palestinians’ faith in the “American sponsored peace process” diminished, they felt the world community ignored and neglected them also.
Groups like MAN that stopped expecting anything from Arab regimes began hijacking airplanes.
By 1972, the Palestine Liberation Organization had enough international support to get by the United States’ veto in the United Nations Security Council and Arab League recognition as representative of the Palestinian people.
The Palestinians knew the United States stated its support, as the British had, but they weren’t able to accomplish anything.  
The force Israel exerted in Johnson’s United States policy delivered no equilibrium for the Palestinians.  

In 1969, all political parties submitted to the BSPP, Burma Socialist Programme Party.
Ne Win nationalized banks and oil and deprived minorities of opportunities.
Ne Win became U Nu Win, civilian leader of Burma in 1972 and stopped the active role that U Nu defined for Burma internationally
He put military people in power even when they didn’t have experience which triggered “maldistribution of goods and chronic shortages.”  
Resources were located in areas where separatist minorities had control.

The British presence in the South China Sea ended in 1968.  
The United States left Vietnam in 1974 and China went into the Western Paracels.
The U.S. didn’t intervene and Vietnam took the Spratlys.
China wanted to claim the continental shelf In the central part of the South China Sea and needed the Spratlys.
The United States mostly disregarded the Ulama In Iran and bewildered the Iranian people by not supporting their revolution.

Obsidian—
iron, copper and chromium—
isn’t a gas
but it isn’t a crystal;
it’s between the two,
the ordered crystal and the disordered gas.  
They made swords out of obsidian.


Edelweiss

I laid out in my backyard in my bikini.  
I love the feeling of my body in the sun.  
I’d be dark from the end of spring until winter.
The snow froze my bare feet through winter ,
my skin pale.
American towns in 1984,
Free, below glaciers the sunlight melted the snow,
a sea of green and the edelweiss on the edge of the  limestone,
frosted but still strong.    
When the spring warmed the grass,
the grass warmed my feet. 
The whole field looked cold and white from the glacier but in the meadow,
the bright yellow centers of those flowers float free in the center of the white petals.
The bright yellow center of those edelweiss scared the people my parents ran to America from India to get away from.  
On a sidewalk in Queens, New York in 1991, the men stared and yelled comments at me in short shorts and a fitted top in the summer.  
I grabbed my dad’s arm.

























The Bread and Coconut Butter of Aparigraha

Twelve year old flowerhead,
Marigold, yarrow and nettle,
I’d be all emotion
If not for all my work
From the time I was a teenager.
I got depressed a lot.
I related to people I read about
In my weather balloon,
Grasping, ignorant, and desperate,
But couldn’t relate to other twelve year olds.
After school I read Dali’s autobiography,
Young ****** Autosodomized by Her Own Chastity.
Fresh, green nettle with fresh and dried yarrow for purity.
Dead souls enticed to the altar by orange marigolds,
passion and creativity,
Coax sleep and rouse dreams.
Satellites measure indirectly with wave lengths of light.
My weather balloon measures the lower and middle levels of the atmosphere directly,
Fifty thousand feet high,
Metal rod thermometer,
Slide humidity sensor,
Canister for air pressure.

I enjoy rye bread and cold coconut butter in my weather balloon,
But I want Dali, and all the artists and writers.
Rye grows at high altitudes
But papyrus grows in soil and shallow water,
Strips of papyrus pith shucked from their stems.
When an anchor’s weighed, a ship sails,
But when grounded we sail.
Marigolds, yarrow and nettle,
Flowerhead,
I use the marigold for sleep,
The yarrow for endurance and intensity,
toiling for love and truth,
And the nettle for healing.
Strong rye bread needs equally strong flavors.
By the beginning of high school,
I read a lot of Beat literature
And found Buddhism.
I loved what I read
But I didn’t like some things.
I liked attachment.  
I got to the ground.
Mushrooms grow in dry soil.
Attachment to beauty is Buddha activity.
Not being attached to things I don’t find beautiful is Buddha activity.  
I fried mushrooms in a single layer in oil, fleshy.
I roasted mushrooms at high temperatures in the oven, crisp.
I simmered mushrooms in stock with kombu.
Rye bread with cold coconut butter and cremini mushrooms,
raw, soft and firm.  
Life continues, life changes,
Attachments, losses, mourning and suffering,
But change lures growth.
I find stream beds and wet soil.
I lay the strips of papyrus next to each other.
I cross papyrus strips over the first,
Then wet the crossed papyrus strips,
Press and cement them into a sheet.
I hammer it and dry it in the sun,
With no thought of achievement or self,
Flowerhead,
Hands filled with my past,
Head filled with the future,
Dali, artists poets,
Wishes and desires aligned with nature,
Abundance,
Cocoa, caraway, and molasses.

If I ever really like someone,
I’ll be wearing the dress he chooses,
Fresh green nettle and yarrow, the seeds take two years to grow strong,
Lasting love.
Marigolds steer dead souls from the altar to the afterlife,
Antiseptic, healing wounds,
Soothing sore throats and headaches.
Imperturbable, stable flowerhead,
I empty my mind.
When desires are aligned with nature, desire flows.
Papyrus makes paper and cloth.
Papyrus makes sails.
Charcoal from the ash of pulverized papyrus heals wounds.
Without attachment to the fruit of action
There is continuation of life,
Rye bread and melted coconut butter,
The coconut tree in the coconut butter,
The seed comes from the ground out of nothing,
Naturalness.
It has form.
As the seed grows the seed expresses the tree,
The seed expresses the coconut,
The seed expresses the coconut butter.
Rye bread, large open hollows, chambers,
Immersed in melted coconut butter,
Desire for expansion and creation,
No grasping, not desperate.
When the mind is compassion, the mind is boundless.
Every moment,
only that,
Every moment,
a scythe to the papyrus in the stream bed of the past.  

































Sound on Powdery Blue

Potter’s clay, nymph, plum unplumbed, 1993.
Dahlia, ice, powder, musk and rose,
my source of life emerged in darkness, blackness.
Seashell fragments in the sand,
The glass ball of my life cracked inside,
Light reflected off the salt crystal cracks,
Nacre kept those cracks from getting worse.
Young ****** Autosodomized By Her Own Chastity,
Nymph, I didn’t want to give my body,
Torn, *****, ballgown,
To people who wouldn’t understand me,
Piquant.

Outside on the salt flats,
Aphrodite, goddess of beauty, pleasure and fertility and
Asexual Artemis, goddess of animals, and the hunt,
Mistress of nymphs,
Punish with ruthless savagery.

In my bedroom, blue caribou moss covered rocks, pine, and yew trees,
The heartwood writhes as hurricane gales, twisters and whirlwinds
Contort their bark,
Roots strong in the soil.
Orris root dried in the sun, bulbs like wood.
Dahlia runs to baritone soundbath radio waves.
Light has frequencies,
Violet between blue and invisible ultraviolet,
Flame, slate and flint.
Every night is cold.

Torii gates, pain secured as sacred.
An assignation, frost hardy dahlia and a plangent resonant echo.
High frequency sound waves convert to electrical signals,
Breathe from someone I want,
Silt.
Beam, radiate, ensorcel.
I break the bark,
Sap flows and dries,
Resin seals over the tear.
I distill pine,
Resin and oil for turpentine, a solvent.
Quiver, bemired,
I lead sound into my darkness,
Orris butter resin, sweet and warm,
Hot jam drops on snow drops,
Orange ash on smoke,
Balm on lava,
The problem with cotton candy.

Electrical signals give off radiation or light waves,
The narrow frequency range where
The crest of a radio wave and the crest of a light wave overlap,
Infrared.
Glaciers flow, sunlight melts the upper layers of the snow when strong,
A wet snow avalanche,
A torrent, healing.
Brown sugar and whiskey,
Undulant, lavender.
Pine pitch, crystalline, sticky, rich and golden,
And dried pine rosin polishes glass smooth
Like the smell of powdery orris after years.
Softness, flush, worthy/not worthy,
Rich rays thunder,
Intensify my pulse,
Frenzied red,
Violet between blue and invisible ultraviolet.
Babylon—flutter, glow.
Unquenchable cathartic orris.  

















Pink Graphite

Camellias, winter shrubs,
Their shallow roots grow beneath the spongy caribou moss,
Robins egg blue.
After writing a play with my gifted students program in 1991,
I stopped spending all my free time writing short stories,
But the caribou moss was still soft.

In the cold Arctic of that town,
The evergreen protected the camellias from the afternoon sun and storms.
They branded hardy camellias with a brass molded embossing iron;
I had paper and graphite for my pencils.

After my ninth grade honors English teacher asked us to write poems in 1994,
It began raining.
We lived on an overhang.
A vertical rise to the top of the rock.
The rainstorm caused a metamorphic change in the snowpack,
A wet snow avalanche drifted slowly down the moss covered rock,
The snow already destabilized by exposure to the sunlight.

The avalanche formed lakes,
rock basins washed away with rainwater and melted snow,
Streams dammed by the rocks.  
My pencils washed away in the avalanche,
My clothes heavy and cold.
I wove one side of each warp fiber through the eye of the needle and one side through each slot,
Salves, ointments, serums and tinctures.
I was mining for graphite.
They were mining me,
The only winch, the sound through the water.

A steep staircase to the red Torii gates,
I broke the chains with bells for vespers
And chimes for schisms,
And wove the weft across at right angles to the warp.  

On a rocky ledge at the end of winter,
The pink moon, bitters and body butter,
They tried to get  me to want absinthe,
Wormwood for bitterness and regret.
Heat and pressure formed carbon for flakes of graphite.
Heat and pressure,
I made bitters,
Brandy, grapefruit, chocolate, mandarin rind, tamarind and sugar.
I grounded my feet in the pink moss,
paper dried in one hand,
and graphite for my pencils in the other.  



































Flakes

I don’t let people that put me down be part of my life.  
Gardens and trees,
My shadow sunk in the grass in my yard
As I ate bread, turmeric and lemon.
Carbon crystallizes into graphite flakes.
I write to see well,
Graphite on paper.  
A shadow on rock tiles with a shield, a diamond and a bell
Had me ***** to humiliate me.
Though I don’t let people that put me down near me,
A lot of people putting me down seemed like they were following me,
A platform to jump from
While she had her temple.  

There was a pink door to the platform.
I ate bread with caramelized crusts and
Drank turmeric lemonade
Before I opened that door,
Jumped and
Descended into blankets and feathers.
I found matches and rosin
For turpentine to clean,
Dried plums and licorice.  

In the temple,
In diamonds, leather, wool and silk,
She had her shield and bells,
Drugs and technology,
Thermovision 210 and Minox,
And an offering box where people believed
That if their coins went in
Their wishes would come true.

Hollyhock and smudging charcoal for work,  
Belled,
I ground grain in the mill for the bread I baked for breakfast.
The bells are now communal bells
With a watchtower and a prison,
Her shield, a blowtorch and flux,
Her ex rays, my makeshift records
Because Stalin didn’t like people dancing,
He liked them divebombing.
Impurities in the carbon prevent diamonds from forming,
Measured,
The most hard, the most expensive,
But graphite’s soft delocalized electrons move.  






































OCEAN BED

The loneliness of going to sleep by myself.  
I want a bed that’s high off the ground,
a mattress, an ocean.
I want a crush and that  person in my bed.  
Only that,
a crush in my bed,
an ocean in my bed.  
Just love.  
But I sleep with my thumbs sealed.  
I sleep with my hands, palms up.  
I sleep with my hands at my heart.  
They sear my compassion with their noise.  
They hold their iron over their fire and try to carve their noise into my love,
scored by the violence of voices, dark and lurid,  
but not burned.  
I want a man in my bed.  
When I wake up in an earthquake
I want to be held through the aftershocks.  
I like men,
the waves come in and go out
but the ocean was part of my every day.  
I don’t mind being fetishized in the ocean.  
I ran by the ocean every morning.  
I surfed in the ocean.  
I should’ve gone into the ocean that afternoon at Trestles,
holding my water jugs, kneeling at the edge.  














Morning

I want to fall asleep in the warm arms of a fireman.  
I want to wake up to the smell of coffee in my kitchen.  

Morning—the molten lava in the outer core of the earth embeds the iron from the inner core into the earth’s magnetic field.  
The magnetic field flips.  
The sun, so strong, where it gets through the trees it burns everything but the pine.  
The winds change direction.  
Storms cast lightening and rain.  
Iron conducts solar flares and the heavy wind.  
In that pine forest, I shudder every time I see a speck of light for fear of neon and fluorescents.  The eucalyptus cleanses congestion.  
And Kerouac’s stream ululates, crystal bowl sound baths.  
I follow the sound to the water.  
The stream ends at a bluff with a thin rocky beach below.  
The green water turns black not far from the shore.  
Before diving into the ocean, I eat globe mallow from the trees, stems and leaves, the viscous flesh, red, soft and nutty.  
I distill the pine from one of the tree’s bark and smudge the charcoal over my skin.  

Death, the palo santo’s lit, cleansing negative energy.  
It’s been so long since I’ve smelled a man, woodsmoke, citrus and tobacco.  
Jasmine, plum, lime and tuberose oil on the base of my neck comforts.  
Parabolic chambers heal, sound waves through water travel four times faster.  
The sound of the open sea recalibrates.  
I dissolve into the midnight blue of the ocean.  

I want to fall asleep in the warm arms of a fireman.  
I want to wake up to the smell of coffee in my kitchen.  
I want hot water with coconut oil when I get up.  
We’d lay out on the lawn, surrounded by high trees that block the wind.  
Embers flying through the air won’t land in my yard, on my grass, or near my trees.  





Blue Paper

Haze scatters blue light on a planet.  
Frought women, livid, made into peonies by Aphrodites that caught their men flirting and blamed the women, flushed red.
and blamed the women, flushed red.
Frought women, livid, chrysanthemums, dimmed until the end of the season, exchanged and retained like property.  
Blue women enter along the sides of her red Torii gates, belayed, branded and belled, a plangent sound.  
By candles, colored lights and dried flowers she’s sitting inside on a concrete floor, punctures and ruin burnished with paper, making burnt lime from lime mortar.  
Glass ***** on the ceiling, she moves the beads of a Palestinian glass bead bracelet she holds in her hands.  
She bends light to make shadows against  thin wooden slats curbed along the wall, and straight across the ceiling.
A metier, she makes tinctures, juniper berries and cotton *****.
Loamy soil in the center of the room,
A hawthorn tree stands alone,
A gateway for fairies.
large stones at the base protecting,
It’s branches a barrier.  
It’s leaves and shoots make bread and cheese.
It’s berries, red skin and yellow flesh, make jam.
Green bamboo stakes for the peonies when they whither from the weight of their petals.
And lime in the soil.  
She adds wood chips to the burnt lime in the kiln,
Unrolled paper, spools, and wire hanging.
Wood prayer beads connect her to the earth,
The tassels on the end of the beads connect her to spirit, to higher truth.
Minerals, marine mud and warm basins of seawater on a flower covered desk.  
She adds slaked lime to the burnt lime and wood chips.  
The lime converts to paper,
Trauma victims speak,
Light through butterfly wings.  
She’s plumeria with curved petals, thick, holding water
This is what I have written of my book.  I’ll be changing where the poems with the historical research go.  There are four more of those and nine of the other poems.
topaz oreilly Aug 2013
The  spotlight  is  on the  broken  coastline
porous - like  archers  spilling arrows
into  the vanquished hinterland.
In the ancient West  Mercia
wooden bridges collapse
uproar, as the King's regiments
long disbanded , ghosts
into fading memory.
Our  defenders, our  loyal subjects
enmeshed into the  wider  fear
our  citadels breached,
and where  is  the  valour
the self reliance of  our  septic isle?
Irate Watcher Sep 2014
The badge of pride as a ******* in high school
was dunking your inflamed limbs
into an ice bucket for 20 minutes,
in Mr. Dewey’s office —
the school trainer AND
every girl's crush.

I always wanted  someone to pour
ice water over my sores,
and ****** always being healthy enough
as Jess told the teacher loudly enough
that she hurt her ankle at track AGAIN
needed to see Dewman.
Guess they were best friends now.
****

When I fractured my back, I didn’t even get a doctor's note.
Because I wasn’t on a school team.
I was a gymnast for an outside club, not high school varsity.
My high school had disbanded the gymnastics team in the 70’s.
Said it was too much of a liability.
The last team picture hung in the award cases on the first floor.
I wished I could be one among those vintage leotards,
framed in gold — the warriors of high school.
Most of my classmates didn’t know I even did a sport.
They just thought I was a bookworm who was flat-chested.
Only the girls poked my abs in the locker room,
asking how I got them.

So I iced my wounds at home.
I didn’t even know my back was broken
and for a month I drank ibuprofen.
Sharp pains biting more frequently,
I finally went to the doctor.
The nurse asked me if I wanted to look
while she injected me with an isotope that
poisoned my dreams of finishing the season.
Green neon lit my bones, shedding the diagnosis —
no gymnastics for six weeks.

At school, I dressed to fit my backbrace:
baggy t-shirts and sweatpants.
My straightener rusted.
Messy buns took precedence.
I tried to go to practice, but my coaches told me to leave.
But I had no where to be!
And I had no friends at school.
My only friends I watched get awards,
not registered, but wearing my warmups.
I swore how I could beat the competition from the stands.
Stupid back.
Stupid Christine.
Stupid me.
I should have never done that 1 1/2 twist front flip series.
Poor bones landing on hard carpet repeatedly,
I ignored the jolts as static electricity.

Now everyone was working on new skills
and I could barely do a cartwheel.
That summer we had lots of pool parties —
but I couldn’t dive in.
So I sat on the ledge,
feet dipped in, while everyone played chicken.

— — —

After six weeks of recovery,
I start jogging.
I did a roundalf,
then a backhandspring.
That night I was so sore —
my memory of skills strong, but
my muscle memory poor.
Each stride into a tumbling pass felt like running in a pool.
Some days I felt like sprinting down the tumble-track
Other days I wanted to bounce on my back,
stare at the ceiling, and feel each node of impact.

Recovery day was my coach laying down a mat.
Today was the day I’d repeat the skill that broke my back.
I took a deep breathe and three long steps
into the first part of the tumbling pass:
roundoff,
backhandspring,
back layout one-and
a-half twist, front flip
stuck into a step.
My coaches cheered and
my friends clapped.

I was back.

Yes.

I was back.
kirk Mar 2018
There is an age old story in a place called middle earth
About Hobbits, Orcs and Wizards all fighting for there turf
It all involved a ******* ring too much for what its worth
Sending all men crazy when its wrapped around their girth
With their finger in the ring who knows where they may surf
Wars began when worlds where new the creation of times birth

So what exactly does it mean by lord of the rings
Is it the golden type or does it mean other things?
Being a lord of a ring who knows what that brings?
Is it a Drawf ,an ugly Orc or an Elf that swings?
Or a Hobbit with hairy feet bouncing on bed springs
Maybe its a Wizard or some ***** Queens and Kings
Something with open ***** spread wide like Dragons Wings
Could it be a merriment of drunken Men or a Bard that sings
A mystical sword detecting Orcs while the blue blade 'Stings'
Or caught inside an arachnids lair when her webbing clings

If the one true ring is reaching out can you hear it call
Is this the case for Hobbitses spread up against a wall
I'm not sure if its all powerful or enough to make you crawl
But its certainly a finger trap when your about to fall
Dont get caught up in a song or a bar room brawl
You'll end up exposing your ring laid out in a sprawl
First there was a fellowship so that explains it all
An Elf, a King, a Warrior and a Wizard that was tall
One Dwarf and Four Hobbits oh so ******* small
A band of miss-matched fellows so too much **** and ball

There wasn't any ladies present none in their vicinity
No big boobed buxom vixens so no sweet femininity
Just a load of sweaty men so too much masculinity
One true ring to rule them all and the loss of their senility
Nine guys on a long quest with the need of strong agility
Half way up a mountain heading for their own affinity
Inside a cave "You shall not pass" Gandalfs grey divinity
With staff in hand the Balrog's Bain both falling to infinity
Frodo's lose and upset the fellowships diminishing ability
With the hope of something more for the lose of their virginity

Just take a look at Bilbo Baggins with his transfixed eyes
With his finger in the ring is what he would visualise
His persona will be changing to what you wont recognize
But he wont want to give up the ring or even compromise
Could it be the feeling he has of the rings sweet tantalize
Or leaving this reality behind under his minds hypnotize
If he does not surrender the ring he will be so unwise
Coz Gandalf will get so ******* with Bilbo's demoralize
An obsessed Bilbo Bagginses he's under a different guise
If the ring then turns him gay it will come as no surprise

So if your in the tavern and you spot old Boromir
And he's got a pewter tankard quaffing froth and beer
If he handles the one true ring who knows which way he'll steer
He'll end up in the cocktail bar the ring will turn him queer
Mr Underhill is waiting with the ring will he ever get gear
Waiting for a stranger while the patrons look and leer
Some people in the tavern they may even laugh and cheer
But I doubt they'd be too happy if they where taken at the rear
Frodo's mistake ******* the ring his invisibility may be severe
Black riders are not far behind so there is something to fear

And if you looking for a man who's name is Strider
But you're not really sure who he is a friend or an insider
For all you know he could be a foe or a even a Black Rider
He is just a lying **** his false name is his divider
At the Prancing Pony Inn he may well be your hider
But it will be a team effort and not a soul provided
Be careful of that ******* ring your tail will get much wider
You don't want any hindrance or a ridicule derider
Don't lose your ring deep in the woods within a ***** slider
That's nothing to what lies ahead when you face a giant spider

Just beware of those Ring Wraiths the nine riders of the black
Cos you don't want to use your ring if your going to be slack
Resist the use of the ring or they'll stab you in the back
The eye of Saurons watching you blades of evil in your crack
If evil gets into your heart you'll become one of their pack
At Elrons river their taunting you cos they are right on track
They will beckon you to Mordor but it's courtesy they lack
So warn them off defeat those Wraiths a sea of horses to attack
Time and pain could have been saved and a hell of a lot of flak
If you went with the Wraiths and it was them that you could hack

And you really don't want to come across the army of the dead
There are far too many of them and you'll run out of lead
You should get out while you can just don't loose your head
Make a bargain with the Dunharrow Dead to avoid bloodshed
The protection of those ****** rings protect your own instead
Is it worth all of the blood spilled when you could have fled
Sam should keep his guard up as he may fear to tread
Cos Gollum's out there stalking you as you lay on your bed
He'll **** to gain "My Precious" filling your heart with dread
Attacking you while your asleep and any of your stead

Smoke rises from the Mountain of Doom and the hour is late
Gandalf The Grey rides to Isengard of this he cannot wait
Seeking council with Saruman but he doesn't know his fate
The lord of Mordor he sees all I'm afraid that is his trait
Sauron's great eye's looming my old friend's fallen for the bait
Reason abandoned for madness the insanity of Saruman's hate
We must join with Sauron but then what would that create
The hour is later than you think are their staffs twisted or straight
A fight within Orthanc tower this was Gandalf's one true date
Escaping the clutches of Saruman's trap his former friend and mate

Have you ever wondered how Gandalf turned from grey to white
The quest began but too their dismay the Balrog came to sight
Deep within the cavern walls the desperation of their plight
No way back on a stone bridge during that hopeless fight
The danger of the crumbling rocks falling a great height
Gandalf will not let it pass the whip of the Balrog's blight
Was it that confrontation when Gandalf turned dark into light
Or when he got tossed of that bridge was his grey cloak getting tight
Is it the strain of whiplash pulling him or the fiery Balrogs bite
Gandalf will return on Shadowfax and the Eagles will take flight

Gandalf and a group of men the Great Eagles they had mastered
So why didn't he take the ring himself the selfish ******* *******  
Those Wars could have been prevented instead of death forecasted
But it seems they'd  rather people die populations maimed and blasted
The burden Sam and Frodo faced too long their quest had lasted
It could have been completed sooner if certain spells where casted
They where to suffer seemingly with rings they should have fasted
Instead of which they shared the pain with others that contrasted
Gandalf could have flown that ring without being flabergastered
But he'd rather smoke his ******* pipe and surprisingly get plastered

Battles ensued that needn't have been so was that really fair?
Gimli will have to get his axe out so you better all beware
He'll team up with Legolas and they'll **** without a care
Keeping score of all their kills cos they are a strange old pair
Aragorn would join them and he'd take on his fare share
But Legolas was a nice boy with his lovely long blonde hair
He liked to score with Gimli perhaps he had that certain flair
I'm not sure which way his arrow went I'd ask but I don't dare
Was it fair on Frodo the heavy burden was his own nightmare
Especially when Gollum leads you into a trap inside of Shelobs lair

The anger of Samwise Gamgee at Gollums treachery and betrayal
Fat Hobbitses don't like Smeagol a defence that was quite frail
With Frodo succumbing to the ring it's to late for him to bail
He wished the ring had not come to him afraid that he may fail
So do all that see such times when you could fall off the rail
Isn't that how its always been with the kings you have to hail
It's bad enough taking the ring when your led right off the trail
And maybe facing certain death not knowing if you'll avail
Don't let the ring take control or you'll end up going pail
Bilbo has already been there and back again in a Hobbits Tale

The great horn sounds attacking Orc's and 100's of their creed
A valiant fight but to no avail when protection takes the lead
The wooded Hill of Amon Hen Boromir died of his last deed
On the grassy ***** near Parth Galen the death of lust and greed
If he didn't want the ring so much there may have been no need
For hordes of Orc's to strike him down with arrows of great speed
Aragorn's comfort of a dying man a confession to take heed
He tried to take Frodo's ring so now his heart will bleed
Men will die and get obsessed the one true ring will breed
Rings will come and rings will go so don't you spread their seed

To gain the power of the ring many battles have been fought
If the ring wasn't so desirable then we wouldn't all get caught
Killing was Smeagol's desire his stressed mind in distraught
Deagol's demise to obtain the ring is what Smeagol sought
A birthday demand a savage rage a strangled death resort
Gladen River's legacy Smeagol's friend killed in a fraught
Downward spirals of sheer desire is what the ring has brought
Gollums years of torment but still nothing has been taught
If you don't resist the ring you'll lose your male support
The power of the ring's too great and far to hard to thwart

A sneaky ******* in our midst the slime was almost dripping
The foulness of this slimy guy Theoden chilled heart ripping
Chief adviser to his feeble king the oldness of poison sipping
Exposed as Saruman's agent and spy allegiances kept flipping
A name like Grima Wormtongue you'd expect a double tipping
Unless he used his wormy tongue for a tonguing and a slipping
A henchmen of the slimiest order his tongue is always dripping
Stabbing Saruman in the back his treachery deserves a clipping
Escaping from their Orc captives good old merry and pippin
Treebeards wooden victories he'll give those Orcs a whipping

The towering strength of fourteen feet and a unique repartee
He Ent stumped and he Ent felled and he's not potpourri
Do not be hasty in times of need take notice of our plea
With Meriadoc and Peregrin they where the power of three
Going to war that mighty oak for cutting down the tree
Branching out coz he's hacked off at Saruman's killing spree
He'll ******* stick one on you so those Orcs they better flee
Cos his wood, timber and leaf are his trunks aristocracy
So don't you ******* Treebeard because you will not foresee
His bark is worse than his bite and his log's his legacy

Death is just another path give me a ******* brake
But being a lord of a ring that is a big mistake
Forging of these ****** rings why are they on the make
The one true ring that ruled them all off this I can forsake
How many wars have been lost how many lost their stake
With people killed and deaths occurred within a battles wake
At helmsdeep Gandalf the White returned from grey opaque
Sword aloft taking a stand making those Orc ******* quake
On the back of Shadowfax the rumbling ground will shake
It would not have happened if the rings where ******* fake

Sharp black mountains up winding stairs was Smeagols secret way
He'll Lead Frodo into a trap he'll make those nasty hobbits pay
The heaviness of stagnant air the darkness consumes the day
Unaware of what awaits when SHE comes out to play
Weaving webs of shadows the dankness of black and grey
Deep inside of that dark lair is where Mr Frodo lay
The Phial of Galadriel's silver light keeping darkness at bay
Sam's glimmer of hope the Elvin blade Shelob he tried to slay
Feeling the 'Sting' of Sam's despair he made that spider sway
Dark defeated by the light but Gollums pleasures gone astray

Arriving at the fires of mount doom the volcano's of Mordor
Destroy the ring throw it in the fire but Frodo wanted more
Just let it go and don't hesitate what are you waiting for
As Sam looks on the ring is mine Frodo's last withdraw
******* the ring is hard enough especially if your not sure
Don't be too obsessed like Gollum was by being the rings *****
The following of footsteps Gollum's foul bite of blood and gore
Frodo's severed finger ring lost from a blooded scarlet claw
The joy of regaining 'My Precious' was Gollums goal and law
Falling in the fires of mount doom his death ended Frodo's chore

With Gollums Demise the ring destroyed our stories nearly told
Mount Doom has fell all things must end including rings of gold
Mordor has crumbled the defeat of Sauron and enemy's of old
Great Eagles came Frodo and Sam saved from Mordors fiery fold
Frodo's fellowship reunion at the bedside of the brave and bald
They'll never be the same again but no longer Orced or Trolled
Cheering crowds the Return of the King Arwen's beauty to behold
The Hobbits bow before the king but they really should withhold
My friends you bow to no one kings honour for the hobbits mould
A kneeling of the whole kingdom bestowed the Hobbits over bowled

Thirteen months to the day our returning to bag end
A familiar sight our home the Shire we left to defend
The beginning of the fourth age Sam's marriage to attend
Sam's choice of bride Rosie Cotton his wife to wed intend
Home at the Shire was too hard to fully comprehend
For Frodo's old threads of life the bonds of a true friend
There is no going back some things time cannot mend
Some hurts they go to deep the book that he now penned
The completion of Lord of the Rings a few pages to extend
Giving the manuscript for Sam to continue the written trend

The galleon is waiting and its time to break the chain
Bilbo's journeys are over the last ship to leave the main
The time of men has come and the end of the rings reign
Gandalf's work was over the brave Hobbits teary strain
True endings of the fellowship seas call us home again
Don't be sad and do not weep but Frodo felt the pain
Not all tears are evil Gandalf knew of Frodo's wane
A departure of emotion the tears they could not retain
The saving of the shire but it isn't quite that plain
Frodo's sad farewell the Gray Heavens don't refrain

The fellowships disbanded but as if that wasn't known
Quests for gold are no more the dead are dust and bone
Elvish has left the building the trolls have turned to stone
The one true ring has been lost so its no longer shown
Hobbits are back in their holes so all of them will groan
Hords of Orcs have now ****** off after lowering the tone
Towers have been toppled, Mount Doom's collapsed and blown
Gollum has lost his precious so he'll have good cause to moan
The Dwarfs are not around no more cos their not all fully grown
Ring bearers have been and gone so they'll be on their own
The king has now returned and he's got his ******* Throne
The story has now ended but you know how far we've flown
So thank you J.R.R Tolkien thanks for your story loan
But it isn't exactly Lord of the rings so its not a ****** clone
Jowlough Oct 2010
Clash of heads
in a fierce discussion
Brilliant minds,
"needs no introduction"

sitting in this room,
makes me think,
How can we finish
If no one will blink?

Seeing the other side,
A crowd of ego's
Looking behind,
A bunch of so-called Geekos

Contradicting sides,
Both wanting to be heroes,
refusing the shame tide,
Can't move on from zero!

Compromise is impossible,
with this mental battle,
Both points are feasible,
if one has to throw the towel

Side by side,
sizzling comment --
No Compromise,
Equals no agreements.
(c) jcjuatco oct 5 disbanded
Madeline Harper Oct 2018
As these forlorn cadences await- unfold
To compose a disbanded vow
Yielding unto harrows of gates untold
Charms death to disdainful plow

Death is plowed to a forgiving halt
While silver moonlight and whiskey dances remain
Glittering gold in this crimson vault-
Feeble souls conjure grace as graceless minds abstain

Counterfeit conceits ravish this open cellar
As the night’s last dance ceases to a disgraceful plea
The dweller’s disdain is akin to my killer
And heaven yields blood to salt the earth for thee

Come away now with your anguishing defeats
Seek not a jagged spike as the heaven’s conspire and wake
Glory and gold may turn us black as deceit
But deception admonishes the dancers in their quake

Spellbound nuances of this reality await at every turn
Mourning and fighting the finality of this grave
Orchestrated knives are rosined like honey, beckoning our blood to burn
At last, a burning reckoning comes to ravage the brave

But refrain, oh killer- host of this crimson vault
Enlist a memoir for our sins
Recalling the pieties of our gracious faults,
Enough to make this blood go thin.
This poem was abstractly written to describe a scene of death among ballroom dance and the last dancer responsible for the tragedy.
Consumer Culture makes me sick,
it burns like acid contained in
coffee cups the size of
your heart exploding.
Music that will **** your ears
for only a buck
because it is a song shaped by greed
alongside factories, with smoke stacks
acting as sploof tubes,
covering the smell of life
created just to be killed.
They have innocent eyes
an organism giving away its only truth
for convenience, for simplicity
**** your fast food,
**** your jellybean president.
Employment is conscription to join
on the losing side in the war on
your time and mind, The Double Bind.
You ought to love your country
but do you?
You ought to compete, go for the win
**** your friends, get to the top.
Do you know what the prize is?
One morning you wake up and find
that your game was a farce
and you aren't what you really are
but what you could of been.

Defend your limits.

For we are waterfalls, spinning wheels of imagination
shaping clay with organic inspirations
planting ideas in the fertile unconsciousness
Don't form beliefs, form a question.

Understand we are ice-9
collectively, we are the watering-system
We are the true god through experience mystic
disbanded stars that are the galaxies.

Properties of our composition suggests that,
you better let this water flow,
because if you don't
a world full of love
would love to strike you down
making you coo and swoon
over the symbols of a dream,
the beautiful sunflower riding a bike,
hitting a hacky sack perfectly
at the end of the day

a cup beckons inscribed with your name
are you just going to sit and stare at it?
Meghan Aug 2018
When i stroke my pen
to write this,
I wonder if you imagined
that i'm a poet
As i wake from another
disbanded sunrise,
I wonder if you screamed
me out of this pessimistic vision
Everytime i would pedal
my bike during the hot summer,
I still think if i ever breathed
the air that evaded your lips
and while i do that,
Each time you make coffee
for the weekends,
I wonder if you guessed that someday you will have to share it
with a familiar person
of the future
Whenever the eyes cry salty tears,
have you sailed your deepest
thoughts on a paperboat?
Like finding me in the ends
of the world after the
midst of calamities
I guessed both of us may wonder,
in a sea of strangers
at a broken
streetlight,
Will we recognize
each other?
Nina Messina Dec 2013
Every fiber of my body is on edge, seething with a burning urge to be alive.
More alive than this repetitive stasis that is Educational routine.
My blood thrums and sings with the desire and yearning for otherworldly adventures.  

The uncontainable demanding within my soul that CRAVES more than a dull life set within the confines and standards of a society that has disbanded the thrill seeking pleasure that is and was the old world. Now we have to pay a small fortune in order to obtain a moment where we transcend grey and our colors blast and shoot through the spectrum in solar flare heartbeat pulses of excitement that dulls far too soon.
I want to taste sea salt and raindrops on my lips, grains of sand beneath my feet.
To feel every nerve in my body alight with the spark of something more.
To face the unknown, not in a city nor my home cowering for the remainder of my life.
But to claim my destiny with both hands, clutching my glaive firmly in battle stances while gazing unafraid into the eyes of my nemesis, my enemy.  To duel it out on stormy seas, sails billowing, lifelines secured, braced upon the slick decks of pirate ships soaked with rain while torrents of wind lash at my body during a dangerous battle between lovers, demanding my downfall at the hands of nature but instead of falling to it I would prevail and arise. Where lightning cracks across the sky like a golden whip, where thunder roars in agony across the cosmos like Atlas holding up the weight of the sky.
Engaged in the throes of battle while the air is rich and pungent with the scent of steel and the satisfying clang of blades locked in combat. Sword against glaive, antagonist and protagonist.  
To battle and seek, to pursue those who dare take whom and what I love. To become MORE. To transcend the fabric of dreams and turn all this into something tangible, to grasp it tight and shower the seeds of dreams into the soil of the real world, and to help it bloom into a reality I've wished for my whole life.
Instead of sitting around writing about how much more I long for. I don't want to be trapped in columns, in places at certain times.
Freedom.
To change the world, to alter my dull fate and the chance to make the stuff of my daydreams and night visions into more than just letters on a page. To whisper and weave the song of those worlds into  the fabric of this twisted reality and watch as stardust mends the frayed edges.

Perhaps it is this fate, that my dreams never see the light of the midday sun
that there is not a strong enough conviction nor skilled weaver to bring about the change I long for.

We grow up in a world filled with fairy tales and books filled to the brim with stories to capture our imagination and you cant expect me to suddenly still be content and satisfied with the damnable grayness that is the black and white of our world that will never be filled with color.

And I will be doomed to write out worlds and cultures I can never touch and interact with, never will I be able to grasp the soil of the other worlds and exist within the places I make.
Never will we, of earth, trapped inside dull grey columns ever truly experience freedom.
Not even with our words for we cant even paint the sky a different color other than grey, and the ground beneath our feet will only ever be black. Despite the colors we think we see, they're not the colors we want. Just pale washed out shades of worlds we will never be a part of.
Dinah M Jun 2014
We're less than lovers
But more than friends
Yet we had a great bond
That never descends

Don't know what happened
Why you abandoned
How it went wrong
Why we've disbanded

Was it something I did
Or something I said?
So many questions
Running through my head

Why did you leave me
And just let me go?
Why did you give up
And left me feeling low?

I don't need to have you
As someone who loves me
I just need you
To be here for me

It hurts, but I know
That you don't need me
She's the one you love
And *she
will never be *me.
"everybody's trying to be a billionaire, but every time i look at you i just don't care"

× somebody to you by the vamps ft. demi lovato ×
Jacob Oates Jun 2014
Yes I saw the truth in the hillside freeway

In the grilled cheese sandwich

for sale on Ebay

With tortillas and butter they called me a ******

Because I saw the truth in the eyes of another

Who decided to feed me a line of such rapture

That captured my stature of pragmatic backed banter

Gathered the trappings disbanded, I could map out the standard

Wanting the pattern, the vibrancy frequented

Masking the latency, the reader obsequious

Addressing the nuance, ignoring complacency

Significance amplified, convinced of this elevated

Power to axiom, entropy celebrated

Wax to a fault with a message converted

While the layers of encryption serve to hold this position

A raw disposition, hoping to see beyond this decision

I can't see beyond the scope of the eye with conviction.
Tantrums Of Genius
Tantrums Of Genius

Stay away from The - Mart

and it’s shopping cart

with a bad wheel,

Write on paper with

disbanded,forgotten

outlawed cursive,

not staring into

a computer with pop up adds

and trivial social media,

Have Tantrums Of Genius

Sip on a beer

or some wine

and close your eyes

in silence,

listen to the thoughts

twirl in your mind

like a Van Gogh painting,

paying attention to detail

as the thick blue colors

swirl into each other

creating a vibrant sky.

Listen to Mozart

softly inducing stimulation,

master’s calling through

space and time

telling you

of their frustration

in finding anyone

to listen to their message.

Read Ezra Pound

and all the others

the poet’s

who had the knowledge

the insight

to warn you of

a place with no creation,

filled with people

without imagination,

those who never had

Tantrum's Of Genius

Feel the emotion

as you start to pace

the floor,and look

out of a window,

and for the first time

realize that you

are surrounded by beauty

and you have ignored

every flower

and all of the color

that has not been recognized.

Maybe with anger

or with regret

have a

Tantrum Of Genius

As the truth

softly show’s itself

like gazing into

a Dali painting

slowly discovering

what it is you are looking at.

promise yourself

to often have

Tantrums Of Genius.
Brendan Watch May 2014
Maybe it was fate in the threads of that
skirt as short as temper and temperance
that ended the ellipsis breathing.
A dancer needs an answer
on life enhancers, dear romancer.
Your smile was more than good enough.
I drank of it, the cup of Christ that turned
my blood into whining moments of
insecurity.
Call security, you say, making the call on
what I am because I am transparent,
transdimensional, traversing the bridge
of your nose with my high-risk eyes.
You say that I am, and they cry.
As your hands ticked at your clock-click keyboard,
I waited, passed the time wondering the
difference between naive and navel.
Harm came like rain in winter, the words
of Zephyrus slipping from between those
amber lips, lithe on naked fingertips.
You take the names of gods in vain,
into your veins, let them convert only
the white blood cells. You'd crucify
me for vanity.
You accuse the recluse of abuse,
and it suits you, tailored because
hatred sized you up the moment you met.
The orchestra disbanded, the buds of May
have yet to burst, yet to blossom like you
say you always will,
but the spring in your step when
you walk away from the last word
tells me more than the chirping birds
nesting in your hair.
You remind me of Paris
on the walls of Troy,
thief of hearts and fool indeed.
Bringer of fire, brander of hell,
but only because you were already the
Tartarus Employee of the Month and
enjoying Elysium.
This is the
beautiful mystery
undone as her clothes and
naked as the day Rosemary Matron gave her
to the world.
This is the beautiful mystery
returned to voids as tangled as her hair,
the nonspace between the curls hiding
secrets and conviction.
This is the beautiful mystery
concluded, all the movements of
her symphonic body no longer to allure.
This is the beautiful mystery
answered, the riddle of the Sphinx
leaping from the pillar, a killer
not quite so strong as her eyes.
This is the beautiful mystery
laid to rest, buried alive in a life discarded.
This is good-bye.
An answer to my nearly year old "Beautiful Mystery" poem, which won hearts for far longer than its subject matter cared to keep mine.
Amanda Kay Burke Nov 2020
Moving faster on than the speed of light
I am stuck here standing still
Make the journey look so easy
The climb is all uphill

I have attempted to take the first step
Cannot manage even minute motion
Limbs must weigh a thousand pounds
Resistance as if in the ocean

My awareness acutely sharpens
Realize I am in over my head
Suspected the pain would hit me eventually
Didn't know it would feel like a ton of lead

Waves of loneliness continue crashing down
Drowning in a sea of solitude
Silence keeps me company at night
Amplifying disquietude

Toxic impure tainted thoughts
Stain images in my brain
One by one they descend and splatter
Like stinging drops of acid rain

Poisoning environment
Questions harsh and demanding
Every breath inhaled is polluted
My body somehow remains standing

Inside hopes are spiraling to the ground
Impact results in fire
Burning dignity
Blackened and charred
Flames that never tire

Wayward demons romp in soul
Delight in my dismay
Carving tic-tac-toe boards into flesh
Misery just another game they play

I reached a brand new all time low
Abandoned strength to care
Cannot find the motivation to do Laundry
Today I wore no underwear

Those unfortunate enough
Cross my path
Targets for my distress
Knowing causing them despair
Does not make mine any less

I bear witness to actions
Hardly can trust my eyes
This selfish behavior is that of
Somebody I do not recognize

A sporadic black hole swallowing light
Eclipsing visible sun
Pacing anxious circles
Trapped
Nowhere to run

I wonder if you gazed at me now
Would you feel any emotion at all?
Have you closed off your heart from me
A tall
Thick
Cement wall?

For one last kiss I would trade with glee
Every possession I own
Nostalgia blooms under skin
Chilling to the bone

I felt lightning when we touched
Flash of passion warm and strong
I feel frozen without that spark
Depending on it so long

The galaxies in eyes were deep
Brighter than the multitude of heavens stars
Shining harder when staring at me
Still sparkle wherever you are

I miss the way torsos collided
Hugging eachother tight
Perfect puzzle pieces molded
Fitting together just right

So much time experienced by your side
Why do I yearn for more?
Should be content with memories
Let you walk out the door

An invisible string tethers me here
Tied with fear and blame
Following like a shadow
Like a moth to flame

A small voice tucked within
Whispered phony fantasies
Argued there was still hope for us
Was wrong to entertain those pleas

You take my universe in palms of your hand
With fingers firmly shake
It collapses
Manage to convince me
It was caused by MY mistake

Again you paint my world grey
Colors fade from sights eyes see
I have no right to be mad that you took them away
You are the one who gave them to me

The day you decided to leave
Without saying goodbye
Consider a sort of funeral
Let our relationship die

Twilight finds us separate places
Dwelling in a dream
I inhabit dreaded ditches
Realities worse than they seem

But I was affected more drastically
By the void left behind
You felt a bit emptier alone
I lost huge chunks of heart and mind

You carried on with your chin held high
No ghosts stalking every move
Recollection of rippling presence
Haunting hologram I can't remove

Into self-pity I throw myself
Asking for merciful end
How else will I find relief?
Tried countless ways to mend

That ends in certain failure
Lacerations cannot fully close
They bleed and bleed and bleed
Dripping out woes

And I was at breaking point
Each cell cracked and shattered
Exploded into tiny particles
Damaged
Across soil scattered

With a gust of wind was disbanded
I'm fated to retrace my tracks
Collecting pieces of my soul
Haven't yet gotten all back

You changed me irreversibly
Can't stand my reflection
Where beauty you used to know once stood
Is a paradigm of imperfection

For life of me I can't remember
When switched from hot too cold
The truth is my temperature dropped
My hand is now too icy to hold
Phew. That took awhile to get down but worth the effort. I had a hard time finding an ending but what do you think?
Tantrums Of Genius

Stay away from The - Mart

and it’s shopping cart

with a bad wheel,

Write on paper with

disbanded,forgotten

outlawed cursive,

not staring into

a computer with pop up adds

and trivial social media,

Have Tantrums Of Genius

Sip on a beer

or some wine

and close your eyes

in silence,

listen to the thoughts

twirl in your mind

like a Van Gogh painting,

paying attention to detail

as the thick blue colors

swirl into each other

creating a vibrant sky.

Listen to Mozart

softly inducing stimulation,

master’s calling through

space and time

telling you

of their frustration

in finding anyone

to listen to their message.

Read Ezra Pound

and all the others

the poet’s

who had the knowledge

the insight

to warn you of

a place with no creation,

filled with people

without imagination,

those who never had

Tantrum's Of Genius

Feel the emotion

as you start to pace

the floor,and look

out of a window,

and for the first time

realize that you

are surrounded by beauty

and you have ignored

every flower

and all of the color

that has not been recognized.

Maybe with anger

or with regret

have a

Tantrum Of Genius

As the truth

softly show’s itself

like gazing into

a Dali painting

slowly discovering

what it is you are looking at.

promise yourself

to often have

Tantrums Of Genius.
Men are haunted by the vastness of distance and time
and so we ask ourselves,
Will our actions echo across eternity?

As I dig deep, deep within my soul
I come up empty handed
The deep abyss has taken its toll
All my strength disbanded

As I tumble into a free fall
Questions loftily rise
Will I be reminisced at all,
After death closes my eyes?

Will my footprints be cast,
in cement so they may last?
Or in the sands of the seaside
to be swept away by the tide?

Will what I say,
be quoted or become cliché?
Or will it be erased from the chronicle
like all else that is forgettable?

Will statues of precious stone be built in my likeness?
Will my endeavours become myths of greatness?
Will stars be named in my honour,
illuminating the dark forever?
Will my actions ripple for light years and millenia?
onlylovepoetry Aug 2016
the desperado cowboy-poet awakes
anxious, needing-ending relief,
the craving greater than great,
he begs-raggedly, with Raggedy handily Andy words,
to all and anyone in the aroused surrounded vicinity,
give please give, of something to write

the bay, soothingly plays the would-be author,
"place me, look my way,
have I not droplets endless
from which you've drunk exquisitely,
so many more to fair share"

the birds twit and flit,
raucous caucus demanding
to be seated
by the tablet's keypad
to gain entry
to one more congressional natural tribute

the sky and sun organize a
joint session, extraordinary mission;
"we are the first of your day,
thus primarily,
we win the primary,
deserving in your recording of our
nomination as the first day's
sound and light show victorious"

sorry folks,
got a better tale to tell,
natural in its way,
titillating, and quite suitable
for reputating Au Naturel humanity
and it's a quirky, say hey tale,
morning coffee fresh,
a first word report from an
untelivised convention
of a different kind of congressing

awoke to find the:

chauffeur in bed with the cook,
the Poppy, beside the sleeping Nana,
the poet, eyeing the lying next to him, tango dancer,
the classicist eyeing the sleeping moderne,
ditty ditsy Ogden Nash astride a Shakesperian sonnet,
the thinning gray line defending his bedded half,
from an invading horde of unionizing blonde tresses,
the republican with the democrat,
the conservative with the liberal,
heated discussions, non-neutralizing negotiations
conducting and watched by
peeping tom skies, clouds, birds and waters
pretending to fly flow past



wow

now that,
is quite interesting
deserving worthy of a
disrobing disputatious disreputation,
very newsworthy and why not,
a poem all its own?

the bay waved goodbye,
the birds disbanded in silence,
quietly disenfranchised.

the sun and the sky hung around
pretending to be UN neutrality observers
wearing cute blue and white helmets
looking every where but not,
at the line of demarcation


the beggar, by his new impoverishment, enriched,
another love poem writ,
niched and pitched
one more itch,
so very well scratched
new sign on the bedroom door:
No Politicking Beyond This Point

8:09am August 6, 2019
Charlotte Huston Dec 2015
In the darkest of our valleys
    By dark angels demented,
‘Twas once a regal temple -
    Serene spring - tauntingly tormented.
A Queen in her Domain,
    It stood there!
Under Lock and Chain;
    A maiden so fair!


Lavender curtains laden;
    On this Temple may flow
Along the Times of this Maiden -
    In the ****** snow.
And every gentle air in that field,
    Of Doomsday,
From the Black Rose’s shield -
    Their aroma passed away.


Witnessing this Ominous blolly;
    Through luminous windows -
Spirits sing in melancholy,
    In the malicious meadows.
Upon this throne I bore;
    A tintinnabulation of air -
Befitting glory’s chore,
    Of this realm’s affair.


With many a jewel gleaming,
    Against the Temple door -
The River’s light came beaming,
    Sparkling for evermore.
A troop of Angels; on their duty,
    At my doorbell, sing -
For the Silent beauty,
    Who burdens the King.


Then, the Reaper came,
    Along the Temple’s River -
For the distressed dame;
    And the sorrows within her quiver.
Above this temple of glory,
    Sagacious scenes bloomed -
Of the maiden’s story,
    The clergy that loomed.


Now; Within that valley -
    Through the reddened windows see,
Figures dancing delicately;
    To her disbanded melody.
The river - now a pale white,
    Is her decor,
Night’s sweetest silent fright -
    And flows - Nevermore.
This is based on "The Haunted Palace" by Edgar Allan Poe, although Poe told the story of a king who eventually met his demise, his castle eventually becoming haunted by the phantoms of his family.

Instead, I told the story of a woman who locked herself away from society - and speaks of how the outside world seems to her.
Craig Dotti Mar 2013
Hope, at times for them
Is a once-great passenger ship
Breeched and sinking fast

This vessel is one that sees the Mississippi,
Floats on it for a brief period
But has no idea that it's being dominated
By the mighty, muddy beast

In these instances responsibility
Becomes government reports that are long,
Arduous and too thick to be stapled

"Many people will die." they say,
"200,000 people will be displaced."
This incites the mantra,
Home is where the water is not

The ship that was a home is made of steel
Neither black nor white
Its grey, so grey that it is without true color
It finds itself trapped in the womb of the dense, delta mud

The people;
The brave, the bold, the idiots, waiting for their ship to come
Sit on top of their roofs,
Now islands where they can soak up Indian Summer Sun
For the abandoned, perseverance is a suntan

"THE WATER IS RISING PLEAS…"

Words spray-painted white on black shingles
The rescuers, government, American people
Are suddenly illiterate

Federal law states:
Energy (money) cannot be created
Nor destroyed
But the ship is gone,
The people are in watery graves
The City is a large crescent with greedy bites taken out of it

6 years later the laws of the universe are disbanded
Ferrel dogs rule the day
And love is never having to say you care
For Linus, Smitty, Craig and the others of the Lower 9th Ward
Gypsy Ashlyn Sep 2016
"This town is dead," he said. We sat on the old stone bridge, with our feet dangling over the steady creek. "Where's Kacey?" I asked, hitting my cigarette, then passing it to see if he wanted some. He took a puff and looked off into the distance. "Probably still back at the house. Ya know, it sure is some *******, man. We fight, and she takes his ******* side." He hands me the cigarette. I gesture to him to keep it. "Thanks," he sighs in a slight relief. He seems stressed enough. I can always buy a new pack.
I take out my current one and pop a new cancer stick in my mouth. I shuffle around in my pocket to find a lighter, and spark it up. The nicotine on a cold, grey winter day like this has the perfect bite. I inhale, lick my chapped lips, and exhale. "Dude, it's just because he is younger. Remember how annoying we were when we were seventeen?" I pull his beanie over his face, hoping to at least get a smile. He lets a slight grin escape his aggravated demeanor, and slaps my hand away. "Yeah, you're still that **** annoying." We laugh for a brief moment, then the calm settles in again.
I look to my left: brown grass, dead trees, and playground that has been neglected for months. Then, to my right: Eric, flicking the cigarette, the old auto parts plant, more dead grass, and the road. Everything has a grey and pale blue tint. This is what winter brings. Eric scoots back and stands up. He brushes gravel off his pants, "I gotta head out. Ally has to go to work, she needs me to drive her. You want to come?" "Sure, I don't have **** to do anyways."
We hop in the car and drive off. I lean out and look at the stores in the town square as we cruise through: Barber, antiques, diner after diner. He's right: this place is dead. "Hey," Eric slaps my chest. Impact is reduced thanks to my puffy jacket, "Do you think Ally is just slutty enough to settle for a guy like me?" He smiles and looks in the mirror. Peeling off his beanie, he exposes his blonde, messy hair. To be honest, he wasn't that bad looking when he tried. Maybe if he would just shave that creepy soul patch. "You know her better than I do, man," I say, "I mean, she asked you for a ride to work. I wouldn't look too far into it."
The thing is, I don't want him to get his hopes up. This past summer, she and I slept together a few times. Instead of cuddling afterwards, she'd roll over, do a line of coke, then say she has to go somewhere. Easy to say, we were just **** buddies. The part that is ******* though: anyone I know who has messed around with Ally, gets trapped in this abyss of feelings. She makes you fall in love with her. But it's so hard to love her, too, because she's so strung out and scattered. These days you can't even tell if she's high or not. It has just become her.
We finally get to her apartment and wait outside. I see her starting to come down from the third floor. Black and white Converse High-Tops with black stockings. They have a few runs and holes in them from our wild nights. She wore them the night we first had ***. Then a pair of frayed, high waisted, black shorts. She always knew exactly what to wear to show off her thin body. And finally, a simple black tank top. Her hair was in a messy, blue bun. Tattoos disbanded all over her body. Small simple ones, because she could never save up enough money to buy an actual normal one.
"Hey, *******!" She says as she crawls into the backseat, pushing empty cigarette packs and fast food bags to the other side. "What's up Ally?" Eric says, looking her up and down with a giant grin on his face. "Oh, ya know," she sighs as she digs through her purse. "Do you mind running by the gas station before you take me to Moonie's? I need some aspirin and a pack of Marlboros." "Moonie's? I thought I was taking you to work, not the bar! God ******, Ally, if you want to drink I'll just buy us a bottle. It's much cheaper, and you can get as ****** as you want." Eric had no subtlety to the fact he wanted to get her wasted. "No, **** face. I work there."
Eric and I just look at one another.
"When the hell were you going to tell me you work there?" He says, overjoyed. "I didn't want you dragging a sweetheart like Syd down there to be a little pervert," she says jokingly. It's not like I haven't seen it all anyways. "Besides, I'm not on the stage....yet. I'm just bartending"
  We made it to the gas station. Ally starts scrambling through her purse, pulling together wadded up bills. The sound of medicine bottles fills the car. Midol, migraine medication, and various other pills (and, honestly, I wouldnt be surprised if they weren't originally hers) "Okay," she said with a deep breath of relief,"I'll be right back." She hops out of the car and dances a small, hungover sway, one foot over the other. Eric and I watch as she heads in. I observe her tendencies, motions, and body language. Such a broken soul intrigues me. How is she okay with this? I feel protective of her, but desire a release. How does one care for such a soulless being? She finds her peace in stranger's arms. I was a stranger when we got together. Once we got close, she started at it again with the mystery men. Eric, he doesnt watch her, really. He stares. The guy might as well be drooling, standing on all fours like a dog. He doesnt observe her, notice the little things. He lusts for her body, much like all the others. She has that air about her. She could make the Pope sin, for God's sake. It's almost pure evil in that skin, but I know there is something fighting. She couldn't have always been like this.
I must have spaced out, we're already pulling away from the parking lot. "Here," she says in a spunky and proud tone, as she tosses a pack of Newports up to Eric. "God bless!!" He shouts, closing his eyes in rejoice, "I've been out all day, bumming off of Syd, here, the past couple hours." He reaches over and pats me on the cheek. I shoo him away and turn up the radio. Arctic Monkeys, a black and white dream flows into my head. Saving her, but nothing could. I could grab her head and push it up against the wall, hold the needles, pipes, and pills infront of her, beg her to stop, and all I'd get is a smirk. I know it. No ***** given.
We arrive at Moonie's. Blacked out windows, purple and red paint, black velvet door. It's the only ******* for miles around and tends to stay busy. Who would think I's spend my days here as a young adult, when I went to church right up the road when I was kid.
We walk in and sit at the bar. The only place i can drink at besides friend's houses. Moonie's son runs the joint now. His dad opened the place forever ago, long before any of us were even considered, or unwanted for a select few. Moonie, apparently, was like a small town Hugh Hefner, had his pick of the ladies. Messed around with his top dancer and had this *******, Todd. "How's it hangin'?" Todd asks Eric and I as I reach for the ashtray. It's ******* weird, no doubt. Todd looks like a middle school teacher who would spend his time writing in a coffee shop, not running a ******* or holding an impressive amount of assault charges. Curly brown hair, like Corey Matthews from Boy Meets World, skinny and tall. Button down flannel, fitted blue jeans, and the beard to top it off. Looks like a young dad, acts like it too. He looks after the "troubled youth" in this place. He provides love, ***, and drugs for those without. I've crashed a few times on his couch. He's charming, which would make sense to him being Ally's current weakness. I catch the glances they share as Todd awaits for either Eric or I to finish a drag on our cigarettes to answer. Now I understand how she got the job.
"Uh," I say, exhaling smoke, "It's good man. Eric here shut down into "Little *****" mode with his mom again." Todd and I laugh as Eric slumps down. His eyes fidget for a moment, as he searches for a comeback. "Dude," he says, as he places his hand down calmly on the bar. He closes his eyes, and slowly whispers,"I swear to God, **** her." Eric sounds breathy and comedic, yet you can hear the truth in it. He and his mother never got along. He always idolized his dad, who left a long time ago. He says a lot that he wishes his dad took him along, and got him out of this town. He really hates it here. "I've seen your mom," Todd smiles and shakes his head as he breaks out three shot glasses, "and I would most definitely **** her. You can call me 'Daddy *******'." "Absolutely not, you **** head," Eric says, choked from trying not to laugh, "Touch my mother, and you die. Last thing I want is another little ******* sibling, let alone, one related to you." he says, now laughing at his own joke. I must have no sense of humor, because none of this is funny. My parents raised me to respect women. I've seen Eric and Todd, both lay hands on Ally. She would get too drunk and start yelling and *******. Granted, she antagonized them, but they know her. She's too ******* little to REALLY fight. Luckily, it's never gotten past a few slaps and slams.
Not really a poem, more of a short story that may evolve into more
Aa Harvey May 2018
The Monster


With evil in hand they travel the land,
Forever searching for the lonely man.
His name unknown, but his story has to be told,
And now he lives in the darkness all alone.


Beneath the moon, his only light,
He disappears every night.
Never to be seen in winters gloom.
He is never seen out, for he is trapped in his doom.
Ten locks keep him in place, to keep the bad times at bay.
There hides a Prince beside his grave.


Still they search the high places and low,
In every inn and in every home.
They had the judiciary hypnotized.
They could never be stopped and now he was in their sights.


What’s black and white and read all over?
The front page photo makes him look much older.
Life wore him down and now his eyes have sunken deep.
His council disbanded and worn out souls on his feet.
As his doom closed on in there came a knocking upon his door.
Still half asleep he casually opened the way to all the evil in the world.


With fearful steps and eyes of wonder,
He stepped into the light from the spell he was still under,
And there she was, the lady in white,
And all around her shone a luminous light.


She said “Come, hurry, we must leave this place!”
He did not understand but the look on her face,
Screamed out to him, “Love is in need!”
So with two winged-feet he dived right in.


She took his hand and they danced through the snowy trees,
Until he finally said “Wait!  Where are you taking me?”


Above the trees and beneath the clouds,
There came a wave of smoke and the local’s did shout.
The fire raged and burnt every page he had written.
He didn’t know why, but there was no other way for lovers bitten.


When people do not understand a new design,
They change and find rage and the lies darken their minds.
He always knew he was different, but he has a heart,
If only others could see it, maybe they could change who they are.
Evelyn could see the real being, not the horror movie monster.
Unfortunately she was the only one, which is why he ended up with her.


As the rain fell all around him, he raised his coat to protect.
He raised it over Evelyn’s head
And together they found what needed to be said.
As they stared deeply into each other’s eyes,
They spoke and they laughed and they smiled and cried, at long last.
This love was no longer a surprise.


They were to kiss and soon did they fall.
One day they would wed, but first the wall and the door.
As they approached the castle gates,
A pair of guards stood still and their captain did wait.
“Who are you and what do you want?”
“We must see the Queen, at once!  At once!”


“It’s far too late for your kind to be here.”
“But the Prince is in need!”
“What Prince?”
“This one here!”
“He ain’t no Prince, under that hood is a beast!
Franken What’s-his-name,
I thought he was deceased.”
“He is, he died a long time ago,
But he saved the Prince before he had to go,
And with this wax seal, which has never been broken,
We can pay your toll, so you must accept this token!”
The authenticity could not be denied,
The gates were flung open
And there stood the beautiful palace of lights.


A meeting occurred and voices were heard,
But only one person had the final word.
The Queen raised her being and her voice and all fell silent.
“The Prince has returned!”  She shouted to the backdrop of violins.


The music filled the room and the corridors.
A piano was played as loud as the sound of the endless calls.
Doors were opened, windows too for all to hear,
“The Prince is to be married after all these years!”


The heir to the throne stood next to his new wife.
Evelyn was crying tears of joy,
So The Prince wiped away the tears from her eyes,
And with a kiss the service was finished.
A Prince born anew; a Queendom not diminished,
But growing ever further with change each passing day.
The darkness disappeared slowly…
Evelyn was the only way.


(C)2018 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Leftovers Sep 2014
You'd go to their parties in your best clothes,
you'd tell them secrets to better portray how you wanted
to be consumed; how you wanted to be seen in
the right light of entwined, callous mouths.

Though years passed and the canteen hall
smelled of stale jokes and worn-out references
your group stuck together by a conformed
sense of security and a scared mixture of secrets.

The bell rung hollow one last time as your
group disbanded into grey, lifeless figures.
The adults around you knew them as temporary
indulgences. You called them something warmer.
10 minute poem
Lucy Tonic Nov 2011
I met a man with lifts in his shoes
Watery eyes and a clicking tongue
As I washed my hands, disbanded
He gave me some dreamboat advice
And a house to go with it
He said to follow the money trail
Up an up an up you go
And freedom means never
Having to go to trial
And don't forget to stay
Underestimated
And always **** them with kindness
He lives in a pre-war clock tower
It's a family building
But he loves the twentieth century
His associates are beautiful
But in my dream they were made of cardboard
Cause he made my girlfriend cut her curly locks
And paint one wall yellow
But now my plain Jane has delusions
She can't stand mirrors
And claims he shot the angels on her shoulders
With an invisible gun
He said vanity is a perfect eight
As he rubbed his pinky ring
He knows the root of every game tree
Still he loves to test me
It gives him a shiny glow
Rob Cochran Aug 2015
We apologize for the interruption
In your programming,
However, we have breaking news to report.

Reliable sources
Have just confirmed a recent discovery
That has people around the world
Dancing in the streets.
People everywhere
Celebrated as the news spread across the globe
That we are not our credit reports.
I repeat, * we are not our credit reports!

This shocking news was immediately followed
By a landslide of related discoveries:
It turns out that we are also
Not our resumes
Not our cars
Not the brand names we purchase
Not our stock portfolios

We are also not
Our children
Our parents
Our friends
Our employees
Our jobs
Our positions
Our titles
Our awards
Our prizes

Nor are we
Our Social Security numbers
Our telephone numbers
Our employee numbers
Our customer numbers
Our account numbers
Our license numbers
Our claim numbers
Our case numbers

Naturally, this raises the question of
What are we?

It is our understanding that we are something
But what, has yet to be determined.
Scientists, Philosophers, and
The leaders of the world’s great religions
Have gathered in Paris
To discuss how these very important discoveries
Will affect their explanations about
Life on Earth.

The most anyone can say at this point
Is that who or what we are
Is far greater than anything previously imagined.

We have also just learned that
Diamonds are not really forever
Because forever is actually much, much longer
Than we ever thought.
Nor are they necessarily a girl’s best friend
In fact, it seems that a girls best friend
Is none other than
Her best friend.

It has also been confirmed that
Money does not make the world go around
Nor is it the root of all evil.
In fact, money is really nothing at all
And has absolutely nothing to do
With value or worth.

The news of these discoveries
Has undoubtedly had a profound impact on the world
And especially in the United States.

In California, tanning salons and gyms began closing
As soon as people realized they could
Exercise outdoors in the sunshine.

Disneyland was abandoned once people understood
That happiness is not a place or a meal
Nor a thing to be pursued
But an attribute of nature
That is universally available to anyone
Who chooses to experience it.

In Las Vegas, casinos were empty once people
Noticed that nothing at all was happening in them.

In the mid-west, major league sports teams disbanded
When the players and fans realized
Winning has nothing to do with competition.

Some of the world’s most prestigious schools and universities
Have announced they will stop charging tuition or issuing diplomas
Instead, anyone who wishes to learn
May freely learn from anyone who wishes to be taught.

Doctors and nurses around the globe
Have begun treating and healing people for free
Because they now understand
That it’s wrong to only care for some and not for others.

Wars have been halted
And world-wide peace has broken out
As soldiers everywhere are laying down their weapons
And are choosing instead to help repair and heal war-torn nations.

By all accounts, it appears that a global revolution has began to occur.
The world’s stock markets have all collapsed and
People on every continent have begun to help each other
Not out of obligation from payment but
Out of kindness and compassion
Out of love and respect
Out of forgiveness and gratitude
Out of joy and celebration.

Some governments have even forgiven all debt
And countries that were once impoverished
Are now seeing truck-loads, plane-loads,
Boat-loads and train-loads
Of food, books, supplies, tools, and people
Lining their ports and borders
Eager to alleviate hunger and suffering.

In fact, a new world economy has begun to take shape
An economy not of competition over capital
But of equality, diversity and integrity.
An economy based on balance and peace.

People everywhere, freed from the pressure
To buy more, have more, in order to be more,
Are quitting their high paying corporate jobs
And starting to do things that are really important
Like traveling, learning, healing, evolving, and creating.

There has been a flood of new art, poetry, and music.
Many museums and galleries are now open 24-hours a day
And are packed around the clock with artists and patrons
Of every genre and media imaginable
Enjoying the free exchange of ideas and creativity.

But as incredible as this news is,
Not everyone is pleased about it.
Particularly the wealthy and the powerful.
Some have been observed wandering the streets
Desperately trying to hire people to guard and protect them
But since the news about the discoveries broke
It seems that no matter what wage is offered,
The position remains
Unfilled.

There are reports of small groups of men and women
Demanding to be told who they are
Huddled together near banks, court houses, and other government buildings
Fending off anyone offering to help or explain
Who is not wearing an official uniform.

In some cities, confused individuals
Spend days and weeks in front of television sets
Flipping endlessly through channel after channel
Trying in vain to find a product they can identify with
But the only thing being broadcast
is PBS.

Wait a minute, we’ve just received an update.
This just in from the United States government:
The White House has just issued a statement
Claiming that these amazing discoveries
Are false.

In fact, the President insists the sources responsible for these claims
Are actually terrorists who hate freedom and hate America
And are organizing an attack to destroy everything that we
As freedom-loving Americans hold so dear.

Government officials are urging everyone to
Pay close attention to their television
For information and instructions.

In the mean time, the government is recommending that everyone
Simply carry on, and continue to work and shop as normal,
But to be on the look-out for “terrorists” or “evil doers”
Who are very unpatriotic, and want everyone to be poor
And not eat meat and go bare-foot all the time.

The President, in an address to the public this afternoon,
Issued a message to all freedom-loving Americans
That we must be prepared to sacrifice our liberty
In order to preserve our freedom by liberating
The un-free who freely wish to be liberated
By freedom fighters who will fight
For the freedom and the liberty
To spread freedom to those
Who have not been fully liberated
From their own freedom So that we,
as the liberators of freedom
Will have the liberty
To Freely liberate ourselves
On the world

We now return you to your regularly scheduled program
Originally written in 2003 while George W Bush was president.
SE Reimer Mar 2019
~

when eve’ning calls
the day to end,
and steals away
beloved friend;
naught for holding,
naught for love;
only yearning,
for what was.
once where pillows,
cradled heads;
swallows tears,
wept on their bed.
once the soil,
on paths two walked;
turned to dust,
beneath a rock.
within each tear,
the salty sting;
a silent sob,
the daylight brings.
lips that spoke,
in loving notes;
that kissed each dawn,
with healing hope;
mem’ries now,
a silent voice;
whispered prayer,
a stifled choice.
these the trail,
of loving well;
leavings of
a lover’s tell!

~

post script.

“brother-in-law”... when a beloved sister loses her battle, what becomes of that title...  do the words drift apart as the hyphens are disbanded?  and what of the light that once added brilliance...  is it forever fractured?

thirty-nine years is a trail long walked; a tale colored by hues both light and dark.  a loss such is his, is to me inconceivable; i believe i would choose death instead.

~
R Guildenstern Sep 2013
Just below the cellar you can hear a gentle thumping
bumping in the midnight calling out to ask for something

Thumping in the hallways and the rooms of little girls
in the washroom and the kitchen just the thought makes my blood curl

It all must be of nothing I have told me many nights
only louder in the darkness till my mind has no such plight

Pleading with kitchen and panels of the wall, of the stairs that lead to darkness right above the cellar floor
Pleading for the bumping, to cease throughout the night
yet my pleading is politeness that responds with terrid freight

The thumping has grown louder, yet no one is stil awake
only I to fight this battle with the king for heavens sake

Spears and bones have knashed and yet a pulse can still be heard
I shall die alone in sadness, never knowing what was burned

Yet amid a morning sunset, with the calling of the crow
all the thumping and the bumping had disbanded from the thrown

In the midst of my confusion , I lay awake pondering illusions
Was it all a gentle dream
or must it all mean something more

Just above the cellar you can hear a gentle bumping
thumping in the midnight calling out to ask for something
James Floss Oct 2018
Dark days just got darker
The future now bleaker
Our rights soon weaker

Temperatures up
Sea levels rise with
Judicial surprises:

Rights curtailed
Guns for sale
Executive privilege
Press repressed
Marches now riots
Meaner tweets
Free speech costs
Groups targeted
Families disbanded
Profiling preferred
Embryos policed

Emigration in order?
vhcgjhf Jul 2015
Leathery skin
furling by
the hides
of ideas,
to impart
the coyest

We are searching for dismantled cameras
with the flashy leitmotif disabled
in a disbanded cinema

And in the dark you ovulated, murdered
under the thickness of rough tree bark

Haul trunks of
a *****-tonk
dismembering
remembrances
rows of seating

Squalling, beautiful voices
throaty, tonefully sinking
in tune with imaginary keys
located in grey, clinking
between stained ivory tiers
and scuffed ebony branches
rending the reddest of heart-drawls
then plucking each riveted contour
John Feb 2012
Only been around for nineteen short years
But I've witnessed too many
Friends lives cut short by ****** garden shears
Little boys and girls
Who's legs have been severed at the knee
Been taken for a whirl
Around the block without eyes to see

The guilt I feel isn't natural
I just walk the Earth
I see dead people I once knew
Taken for the lone ride in the ******* hearse
Something isn't right
When the wrong path is taken for granted
Didn't know the meaning of the fight
Or the truth behind the disbanded

Beautifully departed
Like the angels with the glowing wings
The one's who fell to the dirt
Coughing and spitting up horrible things
No one seems to care
When you're on the inside looking out
It's just the one's I can't bear
Because I've always been the outsider looking in

What I'm trying to explain
Is that the words I'm speaking
Have fought pain and been stained
By the happenstances of this big blue mystery
Why is it that the kids who go usually know?
Drowned and pummeled with the incendiary
Devices that cause your mind to go up in flames
Up in flames, up in smoke and no one wants to take the blame
Kayla McDermott Dec 2013
After nearly 10 years
Of failing to acknowledge
Each other’s existence,
We are brought together
In the confines of four walls
That no longer stand;

In a group that has been
Eternally disbanded.
Our passions grew,
And continue to do so,
Like a tsunami, just before it crashes.

Our passions, a double helix
Of melody and harmony
Continued to intertwine
For nearly two years;
730 days, until my simple words
Dismantled the pleading silence,
And our passions unraveled.

The tsunami crashed.
I fell. Our passions became one,
Though paradoxically, it was
Completely impossible.
At that moment, a ship set sail
To a destination unknown,

And the raw power
Of the uncertainty is what
Keeps hope alive.
JDK Aug 2013
Take the wicket and search the lawn
You've found a place to stick it
Swing that mallet held tight in your arms
That ball is going,
going,
gone.

Find that glass you couldn't face
Then glue back all the pieces
A countenance of broken grace
Reflects
Your faith increases

Roll the dice and move three squares
Or to wherever you have landed
These cheats do play games so unfair
But their gangs have all disbanded

The grass is green
The ball is gone
Your reflection stares back strong
There's no one left to hold you back now
It's time to carry on
For fun. Anyone care to play croquet?
John Feb 2012
Only been around for nineteen short years
But I've witnessed too many
Friends lives cut short by ****** garden shears
Little boys and girls
Who's legs have been severed at the knee
Been taken for a whirl
Around the block without eyes to see

The guilt I feel isn't natural
I just walk the Earth
I see dead people I once knew
Taken for the lone ride in the ******* hearse
Something isn't right
When the wrong path is taken for granted
Didn't know the meaning of the fight
Or the truth behind the disbanded

Beautifully departed
Like the angels with the glowing wings
The one's who fell to the dirt
Coughing and spitting up horrible things
No one seems to care
When you're on the inside looking out
It's just the one's I can't bear
Because I've always been the outsider looking in

What I'm trying to explain
Is that the words I'm speaking
Have fought pain and been stained
By the happenstances of this big blue mystery
Why is it that the kids who go usually know?
Drowned and pummeled with the incendiary
Devices that cause your mind to go up in flames
Up in flames, up in smoke and no one wants to take the blame
Don't speak of rainbows now,
Because if rain falls at night
No rainbow ever comes.

The band of seven colors,
Rainbow is a promise
That ends disbanded.
Dissipated in your
Empty words,
You half-blind prophet.

Rain clouds in your galaxies
You thought
You hid them for safety.
You did not.
I found them.
I knew, I watched
Your galaxies through the years.

The wisest seer I am
I chased away those clouds away
By my resounding light.
Believing you'll send the rays back.

But failing to read my own fate,
I am here on this brimming ocean,
Forsaken by you and your story of rainbows.
Like stars abandoning their place
On dimmed bereaved heavens
Everyone looked up to,
Hoped for each night.

This is the season of rain,
And when it rains it pours.
You left me here
When everything is cascading, falling apart
While you found your own harbor.

So don't speak of rainbows now
Because if rain falls at night
No rainbow ever comes.
Light must precede it
And only I can find it
Inside me.
But rain must fall still,
This season of rain.
Written July 28, 2004
simo Jul 2016
i speak hope that you may see through my lighter eyes.
through my spaced expression.
i surely do feel summer in my bones
i surely do feel like my world is expanding, as ***** and disbanded as my world may seem.
i know my state is temporary, just as it all is, but while i feel this, ill let it indulge
i will breathe in every last drop of this feeling until it is as dry as my bones

when i walk outside its amazing that i can feel the clouds wishing me farewall
the gut feelings are fading, everything seems yellow and grey
wont the chilly moon wish me a good rest of the year?
i am in dier need of a break

she is the only one i trust
this is what recovery feels like

— The End —