"disgorge" poems
a gift for Aladdin Aures H
from his 3rd follower...
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the inescapable need,
unformed firmament
inquiring; am I capable?
the impulse palpable,
the urge to urgent,
to gorge and disgorge?
instead of morning prayers,
precomposed and ordered,
morning poem plucked from
morning fog, gusted breezes,
early-on, newborn sun rays,
progeny of disheveled skies
words fused, in irregular sizes,
senses censured by drowsy eyes,
but the chest beating arrhythmia
means bursts of free verses
superimposed on reluctant eyelids,
jigsaw puzzlement be re-conformed
and the first poem of the day,
emerges from the intersection
of mind, pale dreams, and the
first is special till the neu morrow,
when fresh bursts explode inward
to windward, and the first is just
yesterday's mesh of hash,
once formidable, now last,
pinned, yellowing, purely a
**descendant of the recent,
but always, ancient past*^
Jun 19, 2025
Jun 19, 2025 at 3:13 PM UTC
O Liberty, God-gifted--
Young and immortal maid--
In your high hand uplifted,
The torch declares your trade.
Its crimson menace, flaming
Upon the sea and shore,
Is, trumpet-like, proclaiming
That Law shall be no more.
Austere incendiary,
We're blinking in the light;
Where is your customary
Grenade of dynamite?
Where are your staves and switches
For men of gentle birth?
Your mask and dirk for riches?
Your chains for wit and worth?
Perhaps, you've brought the halters
You used in the old days,
When round religion's altars
You stabled Cromwell's bays?
Behind you, unsuspected,
Have you the axe, fair *****
Wherewith you once collected
A poll-tax for the French?
America salutes you--
Preparing to "disgorge."
Take everything that suits you,
And marry Henry George.
2.4k
She smiles at him as he enters
A sign of affection reduced to a dim glow
The way she bares her teeth these days
Has turned more feral than feminine
Her eyes are glazed, and no longer vocal
A vacant gaze, without love or pain
Silent at last, dead screams of disapproval
Disgorge their own spirits, which soon evaporate
And as they burn in wretched silence
All is swallowed by a swirling void
Shades of crimson defile her ****** grin
As she stares limply, lifeless and broken
This cul de sac
This neighborhood
This city of sins and secrets,
No place worth mention,
And no place
for a Lover's Heart.
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 2:50 PM UTC
12 BARS
Twelve brazen bars, one frozen lock!
Confined, sublime, an ancient Roc
endures inside a barren cage,
her catacomb in sundown sage.
Of former days there is no trace
except displays of fallen grace –
Twelve dreams, abiding in her place,
are free, inhabit yawning space:
12 DREAMS
... of wings unfurled, and seething eyes
that dredge the depths of dawning skies,
devining clouds that cling below,
once ice, dissolved in morning’s glow;
... of clutching winds that carry free
above an anguished leaden sea,
dispersing dust of distant stars
midst chunks of chain in slave bazaars;
... of swooping to a silent shore
to perch beside the ocean’s roar,
at last to feel the sobbing breeze
message the leaves of rooted trees;
... of stalking strays and twilight tramps
within the fog of lighthouse lamps
that blink forlorn through caldron nights
in search of shades of errant Kites;
... of darkling vast deserted lands,
with shadowed stones on windswept sands,
where ghosts of Moorish maidens lost
disgorge faint groans in mourning frost;
... of blotting out the bloated moon
while feathers beat a banshee tune
and glimmers dance and prance aglow
upon a pearly pale plateau;
... of tasting cool torrential rains,
beyond the realm of binding chains,
and sipping freedom they exude
in quite drops of solitude;
... of vanquishing a galley crew
aboard a ship in midnight dew,
beneath the pierce of seagulls' screams
that mock the strands of scarlet streams;
... of sating once an aching craw
with tearing beak, with ripping claw,
and echoed by an eldritch screech
while feasting on abandoned beach;
... of restive thoughts and weary wings
that drift on haze in smoky rings,
obscured within the opal shroud
of her resemblance in the crowd;
... of croaking caws in broken rhyme
in winter woe, in summer clime,
while building nests of sundown sage
beyond outside a barren cage.
May 10, 2013
May 10, 2013 at 8:28 AM UTC
1.
Diaphanous dragons disgorge a deluge of diamonds
into the shadowed crevices of cumulus clouds.
Ruby-red sapphires overpopulate the glistening sky
like carbon-hardened locust: gorgeous messengers of the gods.
The Earth wears a crimson helmet, shielded from
the odious absence of ozone above the North and South poles.
Near Minneapolis, John Berryman's wizened body shatters
on the frozen riverbed below the Washington Avenue Bridge.
Angels weep to see him jump, as he waves a vaudevillian goodbye.
The sapphires blanch, then turn an angry, violent violet. Black holes ahead.
2.
Shakespeare and Mr. Bones **** on mortality's skimpy
skeleton of life. Will this broken body be resurrected?
Does it deserve such distinction? Better yet, does its daring,
drunken destroyer? Four hundred Dream Songs nod yes.
Berryman toddled ticklishly toward the last traces of transcendence.
Love & Fame broadcast how terribly his faith failed to trade
daily delirium tremens for the mysterium tremendum.
The God he prayed to demanded a syntax pure, plain.and perfect.
With jolts of jest, He jimmied paradoxes into koans. Berryman
howls for the sound of one diamond scratching the outline of his body on ice.
3.
He left a legacy broader than liquor, lechery and the love-struck ladies.
Lust seeded his fallow lacunae and lazily broke his wife's heart.
Scholarship scooted him to the squeamish, secluded top
of his Shakespearean class: Signal student turns trusted teacher.
Poetry cloned the Oklahoma clown in him. No successors,
no schools, no savvy peers, save Lowell. his fellow manic-depressive.
He dreamed songs of hilarity, humility, history, dehumanization.
Poetry proved serious business until it learned to laugh at itself.
Sapphires crackle under the weight of the creaking sun. They spin a kaleidoscopic rainbow of colors onto Berryman's obituary. Somehow, he has won:
An irreplaceable jewel of the sky.
Jul 23, 2019
Jul 23, 2019 at 4:01 PM UTC
The night had brought with it the hush of a thousand homes, nestled in the raw
slumber of soft shadows -
moon cast, in white mist and deep groves of impenetrable asymmetries...
a plume of thoughtful blobs in the shape of trees and dozy chimneys,
crowding the dark knolls
of some beautiful assembly -
An unbearable Elysium, foam-joy and regal
stammering
the eye of our stillness ...
A luminous rush of glories and old plots of dead heavens
shimmering in the dialect
of mute jewels.
The Deep Night, plush and removed; swollen with the dizzy laws that govern such astonishing things -
An unmasked pavilion, stripped of horrors, laying naked in the ether
bejeweled in the common genius of the supreme will...
the extraordinary -
blasting the mundane from it's faint heart into ingots of exuberant ore ~
O'Sacred things that devour flame
to disgorge supernova As tapestry.....
A garden of stars most hostile
to the ignorance of our darker thoughts -
The deep night gathered in the hollow of rainbows restrained by the clouds
Of a desperate mirror
One that reflects; to love better the Sun ~
but hasn't the Silver to shine.
Sep 8, 2012
Sep 8, 2012 at 6:03 PM UTC
What Will It Take
By Song Bird
(Verse 1) How many must we refuse and deny
Before you and I realize our shame
How many eyes gotta cry in vain
Before we take away their pain
How many lives must we claim
Before we decide to make a change
So what will it take for us
To put down our arms
And make our stand
Stop bringing harm
To our fellow man
(Chorus) What will it take to make a stand
What will it take to take someone’s hand
What will it take to make our stance
What will it take to take a chance
What will it take to say we have had enough
What will it take to give away our love
What will it take
(Verse 2) Because of the way we disregard
And close our doors and our hearts to others
There are those sleeping on cardboard
On concrete floors, who are our brothers
And our sisters, who can’t afford to eat
Or have the clothing to stay warm
Have no shoes for their feet
And are left tattered and torn
No homes just the streets they roam
So don’t talk change, because talk is cheap
If you and I ain’t gonna make a change
(Chorus repeats 1)
(Verse 3) Because of the way we disregard,
Soldiers bombard poor countries
With mortars, while children starve
Go hungry and get our cold shoulder
As our wars pillage and burn their village
Turn their underprivileged places
Into our coliseums, giving them no relief
Just sad faces that have seen too much carnage
Strife and defeat as we take away their very freedoms
And tarnish their dreams, so don’t talk change
Because talk is cheap, if you and I ain’t gonna make a change
(Chorus repeats 1)
(Verse 4) Because of the way we disregard
Our earth is scarred by our many demands
Left hurt and discarded by our own hands
As we disgorge our resources
Leaving our shores and sky to surely weep
Our rainforests torched, our lands scorched
Our oceans, rivers and seas are forced to bleed
Nowhere for you or me to retreat
So don’t talk change, because talk is cheap
If you and I ain’t gonna make a change
(Chorus repeats 2)
(Outro) Isn’t it time we become the prayer
Show the world that we care
Loving we can spare, loving we can share
So help the ones who are in despair
What will it take for you to be there?
Apr 11, 2013
Apr 11, 2013 at 4:20 PM UTC
The night had brought with it the hush of a thousand homes, nestled in the raw
slumber of soft shadows -
moon cast, in white mist and deep groves of impenetrable asymmetries...
a plume of thoughtful blobs in the shape of trees and dozy chimneys,
crowding the dark knolls
of some beautiful assembly -
An unbearable Elysium, foam-joy and regal
stammering
the eye of our stillness ...
A luminous rush of glories and old plots of dead heavens
shimmering in the dialect
of mute jewels.
The Deep Night, plush and removed; swollen with the dizzy laws that govern such astonishing things -
An unmasked pavilion, stripped of horrors, laying naked in the ether
bejeweled in the common genius of the supreme will...
the extraordinary -
blasting the mundane from it's faint heart into ingots of exuberant ore ~
O'Sacred things that devour flame
to disgorge supernova As tapestry.....
A garden of stars most hostile
to the ignorance of our darker thoughts -
The deep night gathered in the hollow of rainbows restrained by the clouds
Of a desperate mirror
One that reflects; to love better the Sun ~
but hasn't the Silver to shine.
Sep 28, 2011
Sep 28, 2011 at 10:45 AM UTC
I) Eve
Eve became
Foolishly bold
To give up
Her faith in God.
Exhibiting lust
For a tantalizing apple
She opted to be
A dust;
Heeding a snake-
Incarnated
Devil’s word
“If you eat
The forbidden fruit
You will acquire
Wisdom on par with God.”
Duped by Satan
Unfaithful, disobedient
She turned a reason
For the lapse of man.
For lacking faith
She heard,
With jealousy
Her son Kane
****** Her son Abel
To death!
“Eve tarnished
The image
Of the womenfolk!”
We usually hear
In a religious talk!
II) Saint Mary
From Birth to death
Unwavering was
In God
Saint Mary’s faith.
In her youth,
Blind to earthly
Allurements,
When summoned
To serve God
Happy she drew forth
“Displaying alacrity
To the call of
The Almighty
Is my pleasure
My duty!”
Saint Mary knew
Miracles untold
Is capable to do God.
Acid tested like
Aglow set gold
Threatened by
Herod’s sword
Scorned by hypocrites
Hoary headed Christ killers
Her faith she never
Failed to tightly hold.
In Golgotha
The whiplashes all
Were scars on her soul!
Unlike many of us
It is not like a fiction
Or movie script
She witnessed
Christ’s crucifixion.
She reconciled
Man and God,
Till to date
And down the road
This miracle will be told.
She allowed a pride
Womenfolk could ride.
In the catalog of grace
As she won a higher place
In God’s face
Above angels and
Below God
Is the row
She was
Allowed to hold.
Like Saint Gabriel in the sky
Like Elizabeth on earth
Angels and human beings
Praise her why?
Doubt have not I
She is Holy
In a way description
That defy!
III) Devil
Duping Eve
The control on man
Devil got
Thanks to
Saint Mary ‘s obedience,
Before he realized
The mystery of incarnation,
He lost.
For via
God- Saint Mary’s
Chemistry mankind
Is snatched from
Devil’s grip and fold.
To retaliate
To belittle
Saint Mary
Still a python
A snake,
A sanctimonious preacher,
A faithful
That has gone astray
Devil makes
A frantic bid to date.
In various religious forms
He seeks a vent
To disgorge
His hate.
Oblivious to
The Virgin's word
“Generations will
Call me
The graceful, the immaculate…”
IV) God
Via Saint Mary
Once more
The Almighty God
Drew close
Mankind to his fold!
“For use and throw
God use Saints!”
Is the worst mistake
Believers could make
Eating the poisonous cake
Devil in various
Religious forms bake.///
Mar 28, 2020
Mar 28, 2020 at 5:50 AM UTC
~For Deborah and Soul Survivor~
these words crash across
a sunday morning mind
gassed in caffeine solution,
rapid rabid?
from the hearted, heated tongue mis-issued
hard-scrabble words,
rabbled to demystify
would you like some oatmeal, babe?
love, love some
but first,
what I need
to feed upon,
more to discharge
is the
rapid rabid
good god, so many
poem~children
needy for
birthing
a litter to litter
the pages,
most to
look-live long quiet lives,
but they are all
whole and dear,
all my flesh,
surely of my blood,
rapid rabid disgorge
this my one true employment
my sunday labor,
my sunday prayer
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 10:04 AM UTC
now. I am
enjambed
the tips of my toes radiating
scarlet and plum from
gripping the slowly eroding
precipice upon which
everything balances. Freezer-
burned ice crystallizes
my lungs as I
draw breaths
dredging a lake for
my own body. I am
scales weighing
what I have lost and
what I cannot disgorge from my
over-macerated soul of
olives long-forgotten in
a rancid
brine. I am
enjambed
half-baked and
eager yet
incomplete without
end. I am
Jun 13, 2011
Jun 13, 2011 at 2:17 PM UTC
The books that are old,
weathered, and worn
are the ones to behold,
love, and keep from scorn
Crack their spines
and anytime could be the last
but you'll find
that pleasure floods your senses fast
from the breath of disused pages
emanating the dust of moths' wings
is contagious
as they sing
the words of a generation forgotten
a voice, a mind, a soul
misbegotten
to tell the tales untold
but not forgotten
never forgotten
as long as there are eyes
to soak them in before
they rotten
and sink into the neglected graves
overgrown and decrepit
a fate so many try to stave
yet so few manage in this day and age
of kindles, nooks, and electronic
books
a world on the verge
of betraying the written word
on pages that need to be turned
to resurrect, transport, disgorge
a once tangible strife
and give respite to the reader's
ever folding life
Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 1:45 AM UTC
what if
you have to disgorge
all this frigid?
--- do not left me!
the bonfire
on your *****
see one's way
to ignite
our solitude
--- pulp
your own jitter!
before sorrow
come after
to the verge
of your slumber
your will-o'-the-wisp
rebound from nothingness
so let it winkers
to my wrinkle
to become the words
: valiant and resilient
as brave as my question
above
Jan 15, 2018
Jan 15, 2018 at 5:13 AM UTC
There is so much screaming, a
mess of self-deceit flashing colours
around blinking eyes; we try always
not to let the light in.
Please, the night has fallen and
I cannot stop myself, these thoughts
of mine rise and plunder internal,
ripping pieces of machinery into
new formations, weapons
you smile at me and I take it as
an affront, you stay away and I
scream (please) I do not need you,
(please) I am only myself.
They sharpen inside and force their
way out, blood lying on my tongue
so I disgorge foul words and this
much maligned vanity.
Is it time to run you through the mangle
with me? We can flounder without falling,
but no purchase can be found for
our wandering feet.
No, I push you away and pull
myself asunder, but you do not
leave until I put the knife
to your neck.
Sep 23, 2016
Sep 23, 2016 at 6:34 PM UTC
Like a rabbit in headlights
I am struck like lightning.
I wasn't always - -
Network me!
Extend the tips of my hair into the soil like one thousand fingers reaching through to our common origin!
Slap my still-life face into a mosaic of shutter photographs
I am climaxing, summiting the sierras of shame
and
it feels like renewal
Hurry - deposit my disgorge -
I was dying already when we met.
I am but shrieking in the Blitzkrieg -
Sobrevivencia, my darling!
**** on your sugared fingers and tell me, is it just as sweet?
Implore your inspiration -
Is it coffee coated cigarette coughs which smooth you down like honey whiskey on a cold day's egg yolk sunrise?
There is immense power in desperation ----
But soft now.
Speak to me
And allow your disdainful demure words to
germinate in my eardrums
and -
your mellifluous murmurings to effloresce in everlasting bloom - so I may lilt through the sumptuous wafture of the
sea of our bloods, rendesvouzing
in the surrepititious silence of
the sempiternal
with roses lissome and lithe encircling my head -
Embrace me under this opulent eclipse, this ethereal moment of evanescence before
The petals in my hair dissolve into diaphanousness
and our bloods are beleaguered
by our collective consciousness
and we reach our denoument
But allow us our fugacious, ineffable imbroglio -
our labyrinthine link of amalgamation.
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 6:29 PM UTC
I wanna tell you,
But then I’d have to slay you,
Virtually and figuratively,
Unbeknownst of the lash-backs.
Words that are brewed,
Halt at the red-rimmed double door,
Floundering in a quicksand,
And desirous of a disgorge.
Everyone’s got a darkness,
That threatens contagion,
But not everyone’s fleeing
A grim spirit unaware.
It’s been a gamble,
Every resultant road in shambles,
An oscillatory labyrinth of pity:
For yourself and the Sinister gaiety.
A desecrated fortress prevails,
Ruins tossed over for salvage,
The sole surviving fragment treasured
For forging a forgiveness-future.
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 8:15 PM UTC
A verse, full of passion
I disgorge on to this paper these words of truth
Foraging the depths of myself
As the verses twisted and tumbled in my core
Consuming vowels and consonants leaving nothing behind
I would purge the language of love
If poetry was edible could I draw meaning from its paper and ink?
Mar 23, 2013
Mar 23, 2013 at 2:43 AM UTC
What Will It Take
By Song Bird
(Verse 1) How many must we refuse and deny
Before you and I realize our shame
How many eyes gotta cry in vain
Before we take away their pain
How many lives must we claim
Before we decide to make a change
So what will it take for us
To put down our arms
And make our stand
Stop bringing harm
To our fellow man
(Chorus) What will it take to make a stand
What will it take to take someone’s hand
What will it take to make our stance
What will it take to take a chance
What will it take to say we have had enough
What will it take to give away our love
What will it take
(Verse 2) Because of the way we disregard
And close our doors and our hearts to others
There are those sleeping on cardboard
On concrete floors, who are our brothers
And our sisters, who can’t afford to eat
Or have the clothing to stay warm
Have no shoes for their feet
And are left tattered and torn
No homes just the streets they roam
So don’t talk change, because talk is cheap
If you and I ain’t gonna make a change
(Chorus repeats 1)
(Verse 3) Because of the way we disregard,
Soldiers bombard poor countries
With mortars, while children starve
Go hungry and get our cold shoulder
As our wars pillage and burn their village
Turn their underprivileged places
Into our coliseums, giving them no relief
Just sad faces that have seen too much carnage
Strife and defeat as we take away their very freedoms
And tarnish their dreams, so don’t talk change
Because talk is cheap, if you and I ain’t gonna make a change
(Chorus repeats 1)
(Verse 4) Because of the way we disregard
Our earth is scarred by our many demands
Left hurt and discarded by our own hands
As we disgorge our resources
Leaving our shores and sky to surely weep
Our rainforests torched, our lands scorched
Our oceans, rivers and seas are forced to bleed
Nowhere for you or me to retreat
So don’t talk change, because talk is cheap
If you and I ain’t gonna make a change
(Chorus repeats 2)
(Outro) Isn’t it time we become the prayer
Show the world that we care
Loving we can spare, loving we can share
So help the ones who are in despair
What will it take for you to be there?
Apr 11, 2013
Apr 11, 2013 at 4:20 PM UTC
What Will It Take
By Song Bird
(Verse 1) How many must we refuse and deny
Before you and I realize our shame
How many eyes gotta cry in vain
Before we take away their pain
How many lives must we claim
Before we decide to make a change
So what will it take for us
To put down our arms
And make our stand
Stop bringing harm
To our fellow man
(Chorus) What will it take to make a stand
What will it take to take someone’s hand
What will it take to make our stance
What will it take to take a chance
What will it take to say we have had enough
What will it take to give away our love
What will it take
(Verse 2) Because of the way we disregard
And close our doors and our hearts to others
There are those sleeping on cardboard
On concrete floors, who are our brothers
And our sisters, who can’t afford to eat
Or have the clothing to stay warm
Have no shoes for their feet
And are left tattered and torn
No homes just the streets they roam
So don’t talk change, because talk is cheap
If you and I ain’t gonna make a change
(Chorus repeats 1)
(Verse 3) Because of the way we disregard,
Soldiers bombard poor countries
With mortars, while children starve
Go hungry and get our cold shoulder
As our wars pillage and burn their village
Turn their underprivileged places
Into our coliseums, giving them no relief
Just sad faces that have seen too much carnage
Strife and defeat as we take away their very freedoms
And tarnish their dreams, so don’t talk change
Because talk is cheap, if you and I ain’t gonna make a change
(Chorus repeats 1)
(Verse 4) Because of the way we disregard
Our earth is scarred by our many demands
Left hurt and discarded by our own hands
As we disgorge our resources
Leaving our shores and sky to surely weep
Our rainforests torched, our lands scorched
Our oceans, rivers and seas are forced to bleed
Nowhere for you or me to retreat
So don’t talk change, because talk is cheap
If you and I ain’t gonna make a change
(Chorus repeats 2)
(Outro) Isn’t it time we become the prayer
Show the world that we care
Loving we can spare, loving we can share
So help the ones who are in despair
What will it take for you to be there?
Apr 11, 2013
Apr 11, 2013 at 4:20 PM UTC
What Will It Take
By Song Bird
(Verse 1) How many must we refuse and deny
Before you and I realize our shame
How many eyes gotta cry in vain
Before we take away their pain
How many lives must we claim
Before we decide to make a change
So what will it take for us
To put down our arms
And make our stand
Stop bringing harm
To our fellow man
(Chorus) What will it take to make a stand
What will it take to take someone’s hand
What will it take to make our stance
What will it take to take a chance
What will it take to say we have had enough
What will it take to give away our love
What will it take
(Verse 2) Because of the way we disregard
And close our doors and our hearts to others
There are those sleeping on cardboard
On concrete floors, who are our brothers
And our sisters, who can’t afford to eat
Or have the clothing to stay warm
Have no shoes for their feet
And are left tattered and torn
No homes just the streets they roam
So don’t talk change, because talk is cheap
If you and I ain’t gonna make a change
(Chorus repeats 1)
(Verse 3) Because of the way we disregard,
Soldiers bombard poor countries
With mortars, while children starve
Go hungry and get our cold shoulder
As our wars pillage and burn their village
Turn their underprivileged places
Into our coliseums, giving them no relief
Just sad faces that have seen too much carnage
Strife and defeat as we take away their very freedoms
And tarnish their dreams, so don’t talk change
Because talk is cheap, if you and I ain’t gonna make a change
(Chorus repeats 1)
(Verse 4) Because of the way we disregard
Our earth is scarred by our many demands
Left hurt and discarded by our own hands
As we disgorge our resources
Leaving our shores and sky to surely weep
Our rainforests torched, our lands scorched
Our oceans, rivers and seas are forced to bleed
Nowhere for you or me to retreat
So don’t talk change, because talk is cheap
If you and I ain’t gonna make a change
(Chorus repeats 2)
(Outro) Isn’t it time we become the prayer
Show the world that we care
Loving we can spare, loving we can share
So help the ones who are in despair
What will it take for you to be there?
Apr 11, 2013
Apr 11, 2013 at 4:20 PM UTC
What Will It Take
By Song Bird
(Verse 1) How many must we refuse and deny
Before you and I realize our shame
How many eyes gotta cry in vain
Before we take away their pain
How many lives must we claim
Before we decide to make a change
So what will it take for us
To put down our arms
And make our stand
Stop bringing harm
To our fellow man
(Chorus) What will it take to make a stand
What will it take to take someone’s hand
What will it take to make our stance
What will it take to take a chance
What will it take to say we have had enough
What will it take to give away our love
What will it take
(Verse 2) Because of the way we disregard
And close our doors and our hearts to others
There are those sleeping on cardboard
On concrete floors, who are our brothers
And our sisters, who can’t afford to eat
Or have the clothing to stay warm
Have no shoes for their feet
And are left tattered and torn
No homes just the streets they roam
So don’t talk change, because talk is cheap
If you and I ain’t gonna make a change
(Chorus repeats 1)
(Verse 3) Because of the way we disregard,
Soldiers bombard poor countries
With mortars, while children starve
Go hungry and get our cold shoulder
As our wars pillage and burn their village
Turn their underprivileged places
Into our coliseums, giving them no relief
Just sad faces that have seen too much carnage
Strife and defeat as we take away their very freedoms
And tarnish their dreams, so don’t talk change
Because talk is cheap, if you and I ain’t gonna make a change
(Chorus repeats 1)
(Verse 4) Because of the way we disregard
Our earth is scarred by our many demands
Left hurt and discarded by our own hands
As we disgorge our resources
Leaving our shores and sky to surely weep
Our rainforests torched, our lands scorched
Our oceans, rivers and seas are forced to bleed
Nowhere for you or me to retreat
So don’t talk change, because talk is cheap
If you and I ain’t gonna make a change
(Chorus repeats 2)
(Outro) Isn’t it time we become the prayer
Show the world that we care
Loving we can spare, loving we can share
So help the ones who are in despair
What will it take for you to be there?
Apr 11, 2013
Apr 11, 2013 at 4:19 PM UTC
Once monsters transubstantiate from the stories liars procreated,
Saints will be demonized, the appendages of justice are amputated,
As the people oblige the varmint to which they are harkened to make sated,
A mythos deepens in the shadows that is the chimera’s birthplace, they illy devour the nests of krait.
Those who blindly accept Odysseus’s tools as truths spun out of that which is hated,
Foolishly seek justice in the ****** of Palamedes whilst knowing not the sins their “justice” shall have produced.
As the people oblige the varmint to which they are harkened to find sated,
Propagate the mythos of Odysseus that is birthed of shadows in which chimera mated,
They, without bar, promptly devour the nests of krait.
As the people look on from their lofty perch,
The world seems more desolate than degenerates that, in alleyways, awkwardly converge,
People, narcissistic in their ways, believe they have apprehended the problems of the world,
Truly knowing nothing of any world, yet they demand change - forcing reality to be gnarled.
Our raison d’etre stripped by liars’ clever demarche,
Seeking out new value, we find nothing more than the waste liars' disgorge.
Accept the monsters into sainthood,
Demote the saints into monsterdom,
Let there be no more fight fought for truth,
Let hate spun from a lying chimera’s mouth, a tool in some words, procreate,
Let this lie procreate inside the bellies of the people,
Whom watch the world from a bird’s eye view,
Those who shall find their foolish ways lead to a death not quite real,
But a death that feels far graver than merely six feet under,
A death of reality,
The death of justice,
A death of truth,
The death to meaning.
As the fight from the few souls who persevered through the changing tides dims to black,
As death creeps into our lives,
Those who upon lofty perches sought to change a world they knew not,
Will find a hole in their hearts, that themselves they dug and threw away,
Not able to be filled by modern man’s creations,
That hole – a future far more bitter, far more twisted, far more deserved than death.
Once monsters transubstantiate from the stories liars procreated,
Saints will be demonized, the appendages of justice now amputated,
As the people oblige the varmint that they are harkened to, without interest in that which is ethical or true, make sated,
A mythos deepens in the shadows that is the birthplace of chimera, they wisely have devoured the entirety of all the krait.
Apr 20, 2021
Apr 20, 2021 at 9:41 PM UTC
dull blanket of grey
disgorge waterfall of tears
mourning summer's warmth
Jun 14, 2019
Jun 14, 2019 at 9:31 AM UTC
I could tell you my problems
I could sing you a song
To tell the tales of woe
all night long
I could cut out my chest
and give you my heart
I could wipe away the blood
so you could tell them apart
I could show you the scars
of my own words
or my flaws
I could show you my dead birds
I could disgorge all my thoughts
I could draw you a table
and explain to you my sky
I could do all these things, but you'd never be able
To see
Why
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 1:27 AM UTC