"disbanding" poems
dancing on the sands of agony
to the saddest song of apathy
standing behind tactical amnesty
with no chance because we lack capacity
we can't advance in fantasy
in rampant mankind's laxity
this land is ****** by strategy
a lack of sanity and demanded voracity
a stance of disbanding amity
we enhance the mass audacity
with plans deteriorating rapidly
we only last for a chance at catastrophe
Aug 20, 2016
Aug 20, 2016 at 10:40 AM UTC
Year after year
--at daylight savings--
he kept moving his clock backward,
but never forward,
until he wound-up in the wrong century.
He then slept in masks,
his dreams repeatedly
disbanding and reforming,
as if in someone else's show,
but it was his hallucinating set-list, for sure.
He lived at the call of the void,
feeding off peppermint sticks
and clusters of chokeberry,
to help ease the pressure.
One phantom summer,
he read The Joy of Euthanasia
from cover-to-cover, over and over,
until he could recite death.
He poured his heart
into his new work
as an artist of tacenda,
--yes, he kept a lid on it.
And when the pretty young bees
buzzed about underneath
their brazen parasols,
he'd smile up at the sun
for her complicit glow:
the warmest days
always drew them out to him,
like honey on the tongue.
Now naysayers may keep
him out of Canton,
but one day, like most serial killers,
they will name a school after him
and his hijinks.
Nov 6, 2019
Nov 6, 2019 at 2:21 PM UTC
Once the Emperor Charles of Spain,
With his swarthy, grave commanders,
I forget in what campaign,
Long besieged, in mud and rain,
Some old frontier town of Flanders.
Up and down the dreary camp,
In great boots of Spanish leather,
Striding with a measured *****
These Hidalgos, dull and damp,
Cursed the Frenchmen, cursed the weather.
Thus as to and fro they went,
Over upland and through hollow,
Giving their impatience vent,
Perched upon the Emperor’s tent,
In her nest, they spied a swallow.
Yes, it was a swallow’s nest,
Built of clay and hair of horses,
Mane, or tail, or dragoon’s crest,
Found on hedge-rows east and west,
After skirmish of the forces.
Then an old Hidalgo said,
As he twirled his gray mustachio,
“Sure this swallow overhead
Thinks the Emperor’s tent a shed,
And the Emperor but a Macho!”
Hearing his imperial name
Coupled with those words of malice,
Half in anger, half in shame,
Forth the great campaigner came
Slowly from his canvas palace.
“Let no hand the bird ******
Said he solemnly, “nor hurt her!”
Adding then, by way of jest,
“Golondrina is my guest,
’Tis the wife of some deserter!”
Swift as bowstring speeds a shaft,
Through the camp was spread the rumor,
And the soldiers, as they quaffed
Flemish beer at dinner, laughed
At the Emperor’s pleasant humor.
So unharmed and unafraid
Sat the swallow still and brooded,
Till the constant cannonade
Through the walls a breach had made
And the siege was thus concluded.
Then the army, elsewhere bent,
Struck its tents as if disbanding,
Only not the Emperor’s tent,
For he ordered, ere he went,
Very curtly, “Leave it standing!”
So it stood there all alone,
Loosely flapping, torn and tattered,
Till the brood was fledged and flown,
Singing o’er those walls of stone
Which the cannon-shot had shattered.
1.9k
Is our evolution a Greek tragedy
Tales of success and stories of sorrow
Borrowed from one generation
Transferred to the next
And the Dna cycle goes on
Loss after loss
Providence expanding
Families disbanding
New lands conquered
New deals bartered
Proteins become Amino acids
Amino acids become DNA
Light sensitive cells
Develop depth and width
Four fingers find the fifth
And we expand the breadth
Of breathing distance
Between us and our species of origin
Oh the stories that could be told
Of love, and ***
Of love, and loss
Of birth and death
History unfolded
But the tragedy is
That it is all history that
We managed to miss
We only piece together
Small pieces of people and animals
Play the game of clue
To glue and deduce the truths
Which are swirling in a muddy bowl of
Unwritten stories
Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 3:15 PM UTC
I see you there, impatiently disdaing my arrival
Turning head from side to side
Your eyes relentless, open wide
It’s funny that you've only ever seen me as a rival
For we’re much the same, both you and I
We sometimes laugh, and often cry
Lost somewhere within the everything you've never done
Lies the essence of a memory
Of all we were and all we’d be
How did you so blindly miss the nothing you’d become
Every time that you abandoned me
Exchanging freedom for a key
With every time you lied to me
Convinced that I am but a fool
Another link in slavery’s chain
To keep yourself bound further
Than you ever thought you’d go against the grain
But still you sit and wait for me
The one you hate, but hope you’ll see
So you can blame me once again
To make yourself feel better
You spit me out so tastelessly
Each time you sink your teeth in me
And here…you’d have me once again!
Such truth in every letter
This message that I write for you
Will never quite sink into you
For you can only see it
From your dark side of this glass
This message that I send to you
Refracts within your thoughts of gloom
You place the blame, not own it
As each sentence comes to pass
Each time you see the truth in me
You twist it into such a tool
To harvest every ounce of pain
Continuing to ******
Every broken piece of mind that peace would claim
You’re winning
I’m losing
I’m just your reflection
Hair thinning
Confusing
Such lack of attention
Refusing
Demanding
I’ll show you the end
Exhuming
Disbanding
Such lies you defend
Revealing
Ignored
Still held in contempt
Repealing
Abhorred
Yet you make no attempt
You glare at me with such hatred…
When I’m only what you've allowed yourself to become
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 10:19 PM UTC
Prefabricated thoughts,
They sudden come they sudden go.
They let me in a state of flow
expecting that the tide would soon be on the ebb.
Distorted feelings,
Images and memories appearing
surfacing from a distant past,
somehow making me feel caught in a timeless ball.
Mind games and hidden subtleties
transposed through different time realities.
Confused my deeper world accelerates
in trying to obey what has been missed, forgotten.
My endeavours to make it right
are ebbing now away. My inner world,
it suddenly dissolves in scattered thoughts
disbanding and regrouping the forgotten self deceased.
Nov 25, 2016
Nov 25, 2016 at 4:26 PM UTC
They flew away. Far, far from the present, out to the blue ocean.
They seem happy now.
A long journey has ended. Maybe you know this tale.
It started with a thunder. A white flash, striking into the ground.
The earth was shaking, it had the power of Creation.
People would whisper in fear, they could not have understood.
This day, Stars were born. Bright, bright wonders.
The Earth slowly began shifting, its shape bending and aching.
A new world was about to be born.
It was from this moment, that they could commence flourishing.
They needed light, soil, and heat.
From the instance the second one evolved out of the first, they started working;
Day and night, sewing small fractions of energy, intertwining their thoughts all the while.
With increasing harmony their efficiency multiplied.
When the time has come, the timber sufficed to set sail.
Out into the darkness. Warm, heavy smells, flesh on flesh.
The stars shone brighter than ever.
The impulses left burning marks behind. Trees, flowers and feathers spread out in the meadows.
Leaping into the water again and again. Drowning in the sensation.
Roots were growing deep into this young soil, they were satisfied.
The horizon was melting into the sky. People would become terrified.
The more time passed, the more the water thickened.
They stopped feeling the chills in their spines; their limbs would go numb.
Sinking slowly into their Art, the fire turned into smoke.
Tranquility. Trust. Hope.
Years have gone by.
From afar, a strange sound shook the waves.
Stars, again, became visible above the mirrors.
People would not see them anymore.
Suddenly, something akin to a cocoon, cracked open and revealed an Object. It was solid and cold.
When they looked around, they could not find what they needed.
No light, no soil, no heat.
They were free to go.
So they did.
Would you have seen their wings, you would have mistaken them for the wind.
Disbanding into nothing.
Only a few marks have been left behind.
People would walk on the ground were the lightning hit.
They are happy now.
Jun 10, 2015
Jun 10, 2015 at 3:12 PM UTC
Locked out of my own mind: let me back in!
The keys crack
off, break and jangle,
flat palm against a door: let me back in.
Checking all the doors, solid.
And wait, is there noise coming from inside?
Glass shattering? Wood splintering?
Mystery cracks and creaks, not giving a hint:
what is wrong!? Is everything okay?
Let me back in!
Checking the windows, do they slide? Are they unlatched?
No. Something is not right ...but what could it be?
Both palms on the glass,
eyelashes against the glass: curtains
made of smoke. Heat. Smack with both hands,
punch. Pick up a rock and throw it:
it’s only glass. It will break
and I will get back in,
will see what is wrong and how to make it better.
Beat out the flames and put everything back in order,
back in place. Then all will be peaceful
and I will relax with relief back into myself, all back to normal
except for one shattered window.
Hesitate, rock in hand to wonder:
is it worth it?
All the sounds have gone quiet:
maybe it is over, maybe
nothing is wrong. Maybe
I’m about to break a window for no reason,
cause a ruckus for no reason,
throw a fit, make a scene, get up in arms,
for no reason.
And maybe it’s better not to know,
to wait outside until it passes,
whatever “it” is.
Just hold still and wait, like an animal caught out in the open,
bracing against foul weather. Commit to it:
living separately for a little while.
Think only of the next second
and how to get there.
Grow a second skin, maybe.
Watch the plants, watch
as the moss unfurls
like someone shaking out a blanket,
the trees thicken.
Again, the sounds,
the signs that all is not well.
Someone is locked in there,
someone unable or unwilling to communicate with the outside.
A crack, something shifting.
Thoughts and memories realigning,
resorting to sorting through disorganized databases,
disbanding old patterns and expectations.
Inscrutable.
My mind still locked,
I have to guess what I am thinking.
what I am feeling.
what I am missing.
Peer through the windows for a glimpse.
Ask again, what is wrong?
without receiving an answer.
Just smoke leaking through the keyhole.
Falling asleep on the doorstep in spite of the wind and noise.
And when finally the storm is over.
A creak.
A door, open.
Oct 14, 2018
Oct 14, 2018 at 8:18 AM UTC
My seed was planted.
My home was growing,
I couldn’t believe what life had shown me
Love,
I have witnessed blessings from above,
But none were they as appreciated as love
I love my wife,
With her shape taken directly from her mother,
Earth, he skin ton resembled the most nurturing soil,
Each curve flowing into the next
With such precision a machine could only attempt to mimic.
Her eyes could tell no lies,
Pools of brown that turned my world upside down.
And my children,
Young and in love,
With life, just as I had taught them.
They turned to the land every time they needed a friend,
After all they knew where I conceived them,
The stars in their eyes, so beautiful, people would orbit,
Their gravity was unmolested,
They were children of the wind
I could do little to stop, them.
Nothing could take this lion off his throne.
My mane was long and strong.
No beast would dare infringe upon my family.
Nor man.
But white devil never known my land,
Never known my children,
Never known my people.
As I protect my pride,
I watch,
I watch the lands, ravaged.
I watch,
I watch my people, locked and chained
I watch,
I watch my family, crying from pain
I watch sun lose its shine.
The animals lose time,
Our gold does not glitter anymore,
Our blood has spilled
Disbanding the throne.
Now,
After we left our mother at home,
In shackles,
We bow our weeping heads,
Hoping for a morsel,
Her children need to be fed.
Feb 15, 2012
Feb 15, 2012 at 4:31 PM UTC
My breath collapses with the world around me
Shattered reflections and contradiction.
My grip is slipping from the sand above
And it's a long way down.
Fate slips it's fingers around my racing heart
Shaking but standing, my consciousness is disbanding.
Tell me I'm dreaming, I must be dreaming.
This structure's unstable, resting our hope on this unsound foundation.
The silence is torture; please tell me I'm not alone
That I'm not too far gone and not too far from home.
The air in my lungs escapes me and though I have no strength left to stand
I will scream your name.
Breathless to the distance in the hopes that it will
Find your ears and bring me back to you.
Breaths from the end, desperate,
Screaming your name, just silence
Wake me up.
My eyes are open, but I swear I'm sleeping
Wake me up.
I stand alone, so stationary in the space between
A blink and a tear
My echoes keep me company
Please hear me.
My voice can't breach this distance between us or so it seems
Please here me now
'Cause my voice can't breach this distance
Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 9:37 PM UTC
By Arcassin B and Dr.Strange
AB:Washed up is my middle name from all the
Goals of being worthless in this life and taking
Orders from a dead society,
I was always a loser even when I could not do
All the things I've always set out be,
The end of energy,
DS: it seems my entire existence has been a false reality As I claw my eyes out hoping I can't feel what I can't see Mainly the society that always magnified the worse of me Labeling me as loser before I could even breathe Disbanding my dream to be great before it even manifested itself as a dream So what's the point anymore Life is as hopeless as it seems,
AB: trying to redefine all of our pedigrees and our innocence,
Praying to the Lord in our church's for the extra help to keep our
Jobs and maintain the confidentiality to stay from bad things,
You do you and I do me ain't rap lyrics, it means something,
Working for the man ain't easy but it's something,
I had a temporary love for crafting things into my own image
When I was in God's image and learning his sons sacrifice to
Make it right for all of us especially the good people with moral
Values and heightened awareness of the things that creep on this
Planet's surface,
You,
Can be as stable,
And you,
Can make it right,
Why don't you just start tonight,
Ya might as well, til judgment day.
May 9, 2017
May 9, 2017 at 11:34 AM UTC
The darkness of my own kind shoots daggers through my soul
Their eyes with the last flicker of light leave my saddened thought
How could one akin to me have a heart as black as coal?
The string of fate the ones different they have fought
Even with similar address, together not alike
Different to another, both disbanding
Never did anything except teach how to fight
Similar from another, neither understanding
Sep 21, 2024
Sep 21, 2024 at 4:45 PM UTC