Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"dismember" poems
***If I were a Rainbow The children would run to me Turning upside down, I would be an iridescent swing, The children would mount my rainbow wing Swaying high up in the starry skies ascending on the moon The children do bunny jumps, counting stars till noon Awestruck and desirous they pick a few The colours pink purple orange magenta and blue Swaying down to the flower garden They would pick flowers from the boughs laden Threading in a star and a flower into  an ornamental  garland Adorned as neckpieces , running around ,making one happy land If I were a Rainbow I would dismember all the semicircles making one hula hoop The children would gleefully twirl and sway into the  enormous loop If I were a Rainbow I would become one big ramp The children would joyously roller skate  up and down Lighting up the ramp If I were a Rainbow And all of these came true I would turn upside down making one radiant smile across the sky The children would happily smile back at me , waving me good bye***
0
Aug 25, 2017
Aug 25, 2017 at 11:49 PM UTC
If I Were A Rainbow
Warning: Use dis list in context. You decide on which side you fall. disappear disregard disaster displace disqualify disrepair disturb dissipate disability dispose dismal distribute distrust disturb discriminate discuss disdain disguise dishearten disinherit disown disparage disagree disgruntle disclose discolour dispute disarm discover disassemble disadvantage disallow dispossess discontent discontinue disrespect disincline discomfort disrepute dishonest disillusion dishonor dismiss disobey disjoin disappoint discipline discord discern discrete disfigure disconnect disapprove discharge disbar disease discord disfavor disengage disassociate discipline discount disembody displace dissaray disembowel discombobulate discredit discourse disentangle disenfranchise disembark discard disburse disbelief discover disable disagree disintegrate dismay dispense dislodge disclaimer disapprove dissatisfy disrupt dispel dislike dismantle disloyal disbatch disrobe disperse display disaprove disciple disavow disconcert disinfect disorder dismal dismember displease dissemble disunity dislocate distort distrust distress dissolute disassociate distill discect (?) distemper distain distasteful distraught dissolve dissonant dissuade And dis isn't de end.
0
Aug 22, 2015
Aug 22, 2015 at 12:06 PM UTC
Is Dis Good or Is Dis Bad (a partici-poem)
He doesn't need Intra Ocular Lenses, To dismember my defenses. Without a Stethoscope, He can hear my heart, He won't have to take an MRI scan, To know where to start. He won't need to inject a syringe, To romantically unhinge, My every multiplying cell, Into a palpitating craze. He won't need a lubricating gel, To ****** and amaze. He won't require to operate Nor investigate, Me from head to toe, To plainly know, That I'm besotted, my insides knotted, My better sense clotted, In deep rooted feeling, Of immense love.
0
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 8:56 AM UTC
He stole my heart during surgery
ghosts of slumber parties past. just a haunted betamax & a stack of oreo sandwiches. sisters braiding eachother’s hair far past the witching hour, contemplating life without supervision. blue house. yellow lawn. silverback gorilla in one garage. two garage: empty. three garage: a woman entombed in exhaust. [her bloated tongue] a gang of bmx boys pizza-fed and friday-high, hopped up on mountain dew and trading card collectible rituals ‘n rhythmics. they conjure a demon just to **** and dismember it. for funsies. for keepsies. a fang for the shrine at the foot of the old oak tree. history on the skin, long history, long thoughts, long in the nod like a calm dead frog. bubbled, boiled, toiled, and troubled. the woods aren’t haunted. you are haunted. you are the conduit through which the darkness displays its vivid colors. [treefort aflame] the seasons furrow/ / the leaves fall. little plots of land etched out – subdivision and sprawl. on the avenue, heaven & hell made tame and tangible. built, re-built, and refurbished – a lawn and a lantern. a mortgaged glory of sparkle and decay. [dead cat is a new cat is the old cat ran away] pictograms of morning light display on mom’s face as she instructs us on the gusts of love [scrambed eggs] & teaches us the truth of nettles sprung from violent pine. [toast with raspberry jam] the television. the microwave. the blender beverages. hymnals of an electric kingdom. one mom dances, the other expires. [restless armless girls in orange sunsets] girl with a gun at the edge of her lawn and selling lemonade. girl in an old wicker chair. save her horror story for another day. boy with a bent frame bicycle limps his way home from one end of the avenue to the other. his pockets full of sparkly rocks found in the lime quarry pit. one boy in a long line of lost planets. the driveway. the refrigerator. the hum of a saturday night commercial-free cassette. where’s dad? the glow of an eerie crystal (continued…)
0
Oct 20, 2015
Oct 20, 2015 at 6:18 AM UTC
mercury ave.
ghosts of slumber parties past. just a haunted betamax & a stack of oreo sandwiches. sisters braiding eachother’s hair far past the witching hour, contemplating life without supervision. blue house. yellow lawn. silverback gorilla in one garage. two garage: empty. three garage: a woman entombed in exhaust. [her bloated tongue] a gang of bmx boys pizza-fed and friday-high, hopped up on mountain dew and trading card collectible rituals ‘n rhythmics. they conjure a demon just to **** and dismember it. for funsies. for keepsies. a fang for the shrine at the foot of the old oak tree. history on the skin, long history, long thoughts, long in the nod like a calm dead frog. bubbled, boiled, toiled, and troubled. the woods aren’t haunted. you are haunted. you are the conduit through which the darkness displays its vivid colors. [treefort aflame] the seasons furrow/ / the leaves fall. little plots of land etched out – subdivision and sprawl. on the avenue, heaven & hell made tame and tangible. built, re-built, and refurbished – a lawn and a lantern. a mortgaged glory of sparkle and decay. [dead cat is a new cat is the old cat ran away] pictograms of morning light display on mom’s face as she instructs us on the gusts of love [scrambed eggs] & teaches us the truth of nettles sprung from violent pine. [toast with raspberry jam] the television. the microwave. the blender beverages. hymnals of an electric kingdom. one mom dances, the other expires. [restless armless girls in orange sunsets] girl with a gun at the edge of her lawn and selling lemonade. girl in an old wicker chair. save her horror story for another day. boy with a bent frame bicycle limps his way home from one end of the avenue to the other. his pockets full of sparkly rocks found in the lime quarry pit. one boy in a long line of lost planets. the driveway. the refrigerator. the hum of a saturday night commercial-free cassette. where’s dad? the glow of an eerie crystal (continued…)
Continue reading...
53
Oh, duchess when you ascend your neck To scrutinize the skyline Were you aware that you could discover? The very marvel that for years you so yearned? Oh, duchess did you think it feasible That you could matriculate the novelty ‘tis amour Did you? Open your eyes alluring one Shan’t be a reason to averse your devoirs though you must dismember all that bleeds
0
Oct 10, 2012
Oct 10, 2012 at 4:11 PM UTC
Letters To Lilith
Klusener could whack it, yes Lance, To spinners, down wicket, he'd dance,    No defensive tricks,    He smote them for six, The same for the quicks without prance. Sometimes he could bowl pretty quick, Sometimes the batsmen he'd trick.    Gave balance to the side,    Served country with pride, All without ever being a ***** His best score V England, remember? Our bowlers he got to dismember.    Zulu hit it so high    Way up into the sky, It didn't come down 'til November.
0
Mar 1, 2010
Mar 1, 2010 at 10:40 AM UTC
Ode to Lance Klusener
Kind, Shy, funny man, Did the best that he can, To raise me to be what I am, Beautiful baby girl, Smiling every second, What everyone wants in the world Years pass, Daddy always there, Doing the best he can, Raising me to be the way I am Beautiful baby girl, A baby no more, Middle school, Troubled; Diminished smile, Daddy where are you? No reply Daddy's soul has left his eyes No more doing what he can to raise me how I am, Doing what he can, To stop the voices in his head Searching for cameras, In the walls, Paranoia controls his all, Delusions President, Police, Mom, Everyone out to get him, Stumbling upon his daughters sketchbook, Sketch unfinished; Headless body Voices, Convincing to be dismembered, Out to get him; Dismember him, Paranoia growing, Irritability as well, Mommy a victim, Strangled, breathless, By a body with no soul Life flashes amongst her eyes, Children being married, Awakes, Escapes, Daddy's alone, In a mental home Not for long, Returns with medicine to fix the harm Daddy? Void of soul replaced Stability, Daddy regained, Medicine disposed, Voices grow, They're going to **** me, The 9th, Facing doom, Departure to a highway overpass, Aimlessly walking, The edge Concerned bystandards, Authorities called, Shouting, Scared, No way out, A fall, A crash, Daddy, Is dead.
0
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 4:11 AM UTC
Daddy - Reaped by schizophrenia
Tonight I dream of spiders Hair spun, fat filled, scuttling legs Quiver over my body and thighs Eyes, ears, mouth, a tongue A taste perforates through my eyes Spills into my skull Splat, Slash, Splot Scuttle Tonight I dream of Isolation My footsteps fall on empty ears Searching for life Fearful, Tearful Ripe with Strife What does this matter? I cannot be seen. Unhear my own quiet screams Please, I want to I need to unhear. Tonight I dream of running An unseen assailant I know, wishes to attempt on me harm You can't be calm I can't, You can't I Must You mustn't provoke me. I wake reaching Reaching Reaching I find nothing But empty solace. Tonight I dream of fighting Clockwork childhood Figures slicing at my face, racing me to death. A metal axe, a clawed arm, walls with eyes, a broken staircase, distorted laugh, a past repeated. 'Treated' to terror remember me dismember me tenderly race me erase me I can't seem to wake up.
0
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 7:43 PM UTC
Tonight the Nightmares Come
Life’s just a riddle that none of us can answer we’ve got some leads, we’ve got some clues. Still the answer eats alive like a cancer, and the treatment is something I’m like to refuse. It was raining as always in September. They were complaining about what; I don’t remember. Reputation staining, or maybe full dismember. In need of some training or my tempers need to be tempered. It’s true you can never go back home, being on your own doesn’t need to mean being alone. You can gift the people silver, gold and chrome and they’ll still ask you how to skin a bone. Life’s just a puzzle that’s missing a piece; you can try your hardest to fit in another, or you can accept it and leave the picture incomplete, and spend the rest of your time left to be frustrated and suffer. It was a cold December, some would say you could smell the ice. I only seem to remember, the nerve of those celebrating, bleedin’ Christ. Start a fire but end up with embers I think a spark or light would be nice. So I go in search of vendors but they’re charging far too high of a price. The nightmare had a nightmare of its own never learned to share even though it’s full grown. You can gift people blankets and tapestries that you’ve sewn, and they’ll still ask you how to skin a bone. Life is like a flower it blooms out until it drops. Each day hour after hour, until time’s ticking then stops. For treasure I still scour moving so fast my steps are hops, and the floors filthy; needs a shower but I think I’ve broken the brooms and mops. It’s true you can never go back home, the path is covered by weeds and stone, and to each town and city you roam there will be those who ask how to skin a bone.
0
Aug 15, 2025
Aug 15, 2025 at 12:47 PM UTC
How to skin a bone
Life’s just a riddle that none of us can answer we’ve got some leads, we’ve got some clues. Still the answer eats alive like a cancer, and the treatment is something I’m like to refuse. It was raining as always in September. They were complaining about what; I don’t remember. Reputation staining, or maybe full dismember. In need of some training or my tempers need to be tempered. It’s true you can never go back home, being on your own doesn’t need to mean being alone. You can gift the people silver, gold and chrome and they’ll still ask you how to skin a bone. Life’s just a puzzle that’s missing a piece; you can try your hardest to fit in another, or you can accept it and leave the picture incomplete, and spend the rest of your time left to be frustrated and suffer. It was a cold December, some would say you could smell the ice. I only seem to remember, the nerve of those celebrating, bleedin’ Christ. Start a fire but end up with embers I think a spark or light would be nice. So I go in search of vendors but they’re charging far too high of a price. The nightmare had a nightmare of its own never learned to share even though it’s full grown. You can gift people blankets and tapestries that you’ve sewn, and they’ll still ask you how to skin a bone. Life is like a flower it blooms out until it drops. Each day hour after hour, until time’s ticking then stops. For treasure I still scour moving so fast my steps are hops, and the floors filthy; needs a shower but I think I’ve broken the brooms and mops. It’s true you can never go back home, the path is covered by weeds and stone, and to each town and city you roam there will be those who ask how to skin a bone.
Continue reading...
44
Night starts with a drip, and roaches move your feet. But when day comes, it comes. Fear is as good as sunshine, it keeps you lose, then tight. The Jamaican bones, having been ground into sugar, are whipped into coffee and grey goose. A mouthy mix, and it seems to cleanse the whole earth; cannibals praise the lord in all of his glory. And on the way to the first day of forever, the iron in my blood clings to my gums. I know you there on the highway, as we both drive with our heads downwards, our evil hearts cuddling cowardly innards. Press your fingers, dismember what lingers. Crack those knuckles, smack those palms and blow that screaming bone.
0
Sep 14, 2012
Sep 14, 2012 at 12:05 AM UTC
God fear.
Olive branches smother and dismember in the mud giggling in time with the squish emanating from my alternating huff and puff footprints I trudge in Winter's sweat of schizophrenic rain My old defence, sheepish stolidity, got tweaked in a twist-up tight as a candy cane with a modest gasp of underground success That shadowy hush of acknowledgement ballooned in my ear like a blow fish amplifying the environmental inertia that never made me happier nor this sad I may have been mad walking from informed opinions like a failed Orpheus but defence shouted in silence and I returned home to the unconditional support of a pet art Acknowledgement's shadowy hush tore a blister trail down my back The ointment of Winter will soothe and release me before billing me with a scar and littering in the recycle bin of who I want to be Today I wanted to be accepted Night has arrived with reinforced snowflakes and the chill on my hot back has me wondering if I would rather be feared
0
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 2:07 PM UTC
PASS THE SYRUP
You'll Be ******** Your Teeth Out For Months If You Cross Me, Can't Believe He Stepped Up Here's My **** He Can Toss Me. He's A Cheating Dog That Never Amounted To **** Remember When You Grabbed Me In The Club & Mounted My **** I'll Dismember All The Lies & Bless Farewell To This Ship, Hit A Whole Ice Berg Let His Views On Life Tip. Always Had It Soft, Your Parents Paid The Cost, Now It's Time To Grow A Pair I Know You're Not A Boss, Treat Me Like A Joke But You Know It Is Your Loss. I Am Like Whole Inferno You're Just Made Of Rust, Obliterate What You Reiterate While You're Throwing Dust, Fictitious As Fiction So There Is No Trust, If I Go In Then Be Aware It Is Just.
0
Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 3:10 AM UTC
Just
How is it That with a few simple words, You tore my heart out of my chest, Ripped it open as it was still beating, Used tongs and tweezers to dismember it, Then threw it back in my face, Useless, a mess, and broken?
0
Oct 7, 2013
Oct 7, 2013 at 11:48 PM UTC
Brokenness
You and I You And I - I Could drown myself in melted polar ice caps, or illusions of Niagara Falls (or does it?) Could join a nudist colony Could dismember my body parts 'recreationally' Could (or will) document my own downward spiral/lay eggs in vast and immeasurable labyrinths/where the paradox of my self-pity mingles with my bragging/swaggering teen angst and date!-mate!-procreate!- into a thousand descendants of my rotting fleshhhhhh - You Present yourself in - Hallways rambling in front of me with asylums spilling into corridors of confusion Rrrrrrriiipppp of either paper pulling from notebooks or flesh pulling from bone Virtual college applications tabbed over with two different Buy Your Own Russian Wife! websites and ignored by your -loving parents- An arrogant 18-year-old boy standing before the Committee of Elders (pleading insanity) Twenty-four permanent markers with generic names The pseudo-poetic lure of "Call ___ For a GOOD TIME" graffitis on the bathroom wall of a Whole Foods you spend six weeks jacking off in - Look, that's great and all, but I think you are a (beanstalk), no time to (talk), less of a (walk) and more of a climb - to reach your face, and when I lean to kiss it (fee fi fo fum) I smell the blood of a human one (I'm tired of stooping and I'm tired of looking at old people) You And I Could have Been Anyone! But no, Just more of the same.
0
Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 12:43 AM UTC
Hang Up after Hello (?)
We are Americans, confident and condescending, never pretending. Pretentious with a fictitious flare. Apologize? Cauterize our past We will always be and forever last. Past the hatred that spewed from our bowles. ******* and ***** disliked but grow. A show of force divorce from the norm.   A new norm. A storm from the top to dismember the bottom. Mathematic and Systematic relief of liberty. Care from elite, delete, delete. Depopulated with information. Education dedication a lie. Down the rabbit hole of darker days. We stay, Unblinded by the pictures they wave. A flag. The towers. the showers of bullets turrets from afar. A star. This is America We are Americans.
0
Aug 6, 2012
Aug 6, 2012 at 5:11 PM UTC
We are Americans
The deviation from The American revolution is Derived from the corruption, With direct correlation, Of the ruling faction. We are one nation Of sheep under god, Blindly walking to our demise. The institutions held dear Only produce unfounded fear. If the treachery of Fox Is something you missed, You are the reason for The desecration of our Constitution. And the propagation Caused by your sinful reproduction Carries false misconceptions To another disillusioned generation. When explosions dismember Our fragile society I hope you’re a victim.
0
May 24, 2013
May 24, 2013 at 12:53 PM UTC
Treachery
Babushka doll, you're an acid vase Empty as church mornings Devoid of all feelings; You unravel your sullen smiles, Ill-bred and unclean. You are not complete. You lost your babies. Now you're alone. Darling, darling, darling, how does it feel? To feel the root of brute in the stubby heel, Your silly scarves lost in the wheel. Just peel off the cabbage roses Petal by Petal, Dismember yourself. What a laugh! The air has asthma, The sun gives it T.B. Oh dearie me! It wheezes kisses heavier than a lecher. Saboteur of my days, Why must you hurt what you can? Because you hate me, hate me. You are an acid vase full of hate. I can see your ruddy heart like an X-ray. Unstick yourself from me. I don't want you, Your scarlet lips Lake Baikal eyes, or Eastern European knits. The rings shed their gold. Knock knock, Dead at 30. The last twist of the knife.
0
Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 11:05 PM UTC
Babushka Doll
Earth: our ominous all-mother,    she, the greater good: the interminable fountain out of which stems life and vivacity itself always reaching                         and grasping for the abstruse azure heavens above. her hair never stops growing. the mites and parasites never cease to fester her scalp. She is growing and changing and rotting and dying.      but where death comes, there is no long interval until more life. the liveliness is everywhere; it promotes to all faces and regions and niches. Multiplying, begetting, propagating. all for the greater good of our orb and its inhabitants. Most dwellers are humble and solicitous toward her, and learn to keep a vigilant eye as she can be so forceful and violent. She does have, however, one rascal who believes that the globe belongs all to Himself. He is the man. He has a masterful gift, yes. He is profound and competent. He forges the impractical query into a conclusive answer. He, however, is also egocentric and pompous, and He sees her as a specimen to which He has the rights to dismember and pervert. He makes a mess of her unique vistas. He tramples and stamps on her face, running about as if she were the coliseum in which the gods gather to view the Species fight itself to extinction. He works her to the core, always asking for more, more, more, more, until she has little left to give. But she never loses courage in His asinine and moronic views and His sprawling village, for she created Him     out of herself she is the framework out of which the mind is able to mundanely manifest itself. Without her, He would be nothing. And she is so immeasurably loving and benevolently caring and forevermore giving;     for     She is life,           she is love.        We are love.
0
Feb 13, 2013
Feb 13, 2013 at 9:19 PM UTC
a saunter
Earth: our ominous all-mother,    she, the greater good: the interminable fountain out of which stems life and vivacity itself always reaching                         and grasping for the abstruse azure heavens above. her hair never stops growing. the mites and parasites never cease to fester her scalp. She is growing and changing and rotting and dying.      but where death comes, there is no long interval until more life. the liveliness is everywhere; it promotes to all faces and regions and niches. Multiplying, begetting, propagating. all for the greater good of our orb and its inhabitants. Most dwellers are humble and solicitous toward her, and learn to keep a vigilant eye as she can be so forceful and violent. She does have, however, one rascal who believes that the globe belongs all to Himself. He is the man. He has a masterful gift, yes. He is profound and competent. He forges the impractical query into a conclusive answer. He, however, is also egocentric and pompous, and He sees her as a specimen to which He has the rights to dismember and pervert. He makes a mess of her unique vistas. He tramples and stamps on her face, running about as if she were the coliseum in which the gods gather to view the Species fight itself to extinction. He works her to the core, always asking for more, more, more, more, until she has little left to give. But she never loses courage in His asinine and moronic views and His sprawling village, for she created Him     out of herself she is the framework out of which the mind is able to mundanely manifest itself. Without her, He would be nothing. And she is so immeasurably loving and benevolently caring and forevermore giving;     for     She is life,           she is love.        We are love.
Continue reading...
25
Ghost Goblin Bandit Spy Trick or Treat Do or Die Pirate Princess King Queen Masked Invaders on the scene Zombies Prisoners Aliens from Mars Godzilla Lady Gaga and Rock & Roll Stars Chefs Doctors Nurses and Ghouls Mobsters and Movie Stars dripping with jewels The Pope a Priest a Flying Nun a Fireman Policeman and a Ray of Sun As witches fly by on this frightening night we know there is no end to its devilish delights
0
Oct 24, 2015
Oct 24, 2015 at 2:25 PM UTC
A Night To Dismember
Texas dairy farm killers crushed the skulls of my holy vessels in 2011. Their animals spirits descended to heaven. They bludgeoned their heads as many times as 7. My defenseless, sweet, trusting, innocent babies. Their fate of their existence shouldn't be a maybe. Wilbur & Bo Bo . Should not be Bacon at breakfast with hot cocoa. To eat what is dead is sickness unsaid. Cattle **** the serial killers "downstairs". Televise the video to be seen everywhere. So caravores will start to care. They heartlessly murdered my cows. My cows. Mine now & forever in this time. A life for a life. A precious calf's life devalued, abused, disrespected, & used. Meat has no price tag. Like a two faced old hunchback sea hag. A priceless life without tombstones or mourning. This corrupt caravore world is disturbing & my empathy for the animals is pouring. Change this mother earth in the next morning. Father sky watches their animal spirits soaring. ****** is their hobby. They butcher & dismember a creatures body. Every animal belongs to me. They have a spiritual essence I can see. All species created are mine. Their ****** is not okay or fine. The killers need to do time. I guess justice is something we have to find. Baby cow is delicate & needs respect & love. Baby piglet where is mommy spirits above? Baby Lamb I love you your a baby angel. The sinners morals are distorted & tangled. Their bodies should be undamaged & not mangled. Not on a death pile of other livestock. Their revenge should be on the farmer's **** Protect the living of these farms. To the livestock bring no harm. Sadistic butchers disarm. Stop the slaughter alarm. These creatures are precious their souls innocent. The lives priceless & mint. Meat industries & factory farms get a hint. Clueless evil attacks as their back is turned. A blow to their fragile baby head is how hamburgers are made i learned. The dairy farmers killed my cows. Unspeakable evil without a why or how. The slaughter across the lands spread like a flood. More death in the mud. They lay on the ground in a pool of blood. Their life drains from their lifeless bodies.
0
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 11:55 PM UTC
My Baby Cow
Texas dairy farm killers crushed the skulls of my holy vessels in 2011. Their animals spirits descended to heaven. They bludgeoned their heads as many times as 7. My defenseless, sweet, trusting, innocent babies. Their fate of their existence shouldn't be a maybe. Wilbur & Bo Bo . Should not be Bacon at breakfast with hot cocoa. To eat what is dead is sickness unsaid. Cattle **** the serial killers "downstairs". Televise the video to be seen everywhere. So caravores will start to care. They heartlessly murdered my cows. My cows. Mine now & forever in this time. A life for a life. A precious calf's life devalued, abused, disrespected, & used. Meat has no price tag. Like a two faced old hunchback sea hag. A priceless life without tombstones or mourning. This corrupt caravore world is disturbing & my empathy for the animals is pouring. Change this mother earth in the next morning. Father sky watches their animal spirits soaring. ****** is their hobby. They butcher & dismember a creatures body. Every animal belongs to me. They have a spiritual essence I can see. All species created are mine. Their ****** is not okay or fine. The killers need to do time. I guess justice is something we have to find. Baby cow is delicate & needs respect & love. Baby piglet where is mommy spirits above? Baby Lamb I love you your a baby angel. The sinners morals are distorted & tangled. Their bodies should be undamaged & not mangled. Not on a death pile of other livestock. Their revenge should be on the farmer's **** Protect the living of these farms. To the livestock bring no harm. Sadistic butchers disarm. Stop the slaughter alarm. These creatures are precious their souls innocent. The lives priceless & mint. Meat industries & factory farms get a hint. Clueless evil attacks as their back is turned. A blow to their fragile baby head is how hamburgers are made i learned. The dairy farmers killed my cows. Unspeakable evil without a why or how. The slaughter across the lands spread like a flood. More death in the mud. They lay on the ground in a pool of blood. Their life drains from their lifeless bodies.
Continue reading...
51
Cat three-tooth, cat stone-deaf, cat sidewinder walk, Old Bealman stalked the croaking, the croaking, with forepaws meek stroking airs of a summer cool night. *Bealman, Bealman, Meow & Sealman, Pacing, still racing, one two three man. Bealman—frog fisher & free.* Delphinium, the roses, lupine interposes a shadow of fortressed green leaf disguises the notion my Bealman supposes— to seize, dismember it through, make self-concocted, dishering frog stew. *Bealman, Bealman, Meow & Sealman, Pacing, still racing, one two three man. Bealman—frog fisher & free.* Night hours accounting, morning’s surmounting, a bird warning Bealman, his patience to thin. Croaking still blending, a flower stalk was bending, two legs, peaking out, sent Bealman straight in. *Bealman, O my Bealman, Meow & Sealman, Pacing, still racing, one two three man. Frog fisher & free.* I saw Bealman beaming; I saw Bealman beaming. How cats manage beaming I’ll wonder again. Since Bealman was twenty, any beaming is plenty. I loved my old Bealman, my frog fisher friend. Bealman, Bealman, My Meow Dear Sealman, Bealman—frog fisher & free.
0
Jun 22, 2016
Jun 22, 2016 at 4:26 PM UTC
Remembering Bealman
dismember                           the jamming fight of my breath your reciting the wit that exudes you i hack mad laughs                       the room becomes rude hot               and we burst our fleshes the seasons collect in some deafening syrup but still the walls are music with vermin mushroom tea       you and me
0
May 18, 2025
May 18, 2025 at 5:17 PM UTC
d i s m e m b e r
charcoal smudges and indistinct hazes of darkness phrases laced in harshness harnessed and armed with my conviction addiction to truth even when sharp enough to harm you disarm you dis-arm dismember sever limb from limb tongue from clever whim from quipped retort designed to thwart off the largest offender up wind down wind I don't remember really the direction from whence one came nor name nor much anything other than charcoal smudges and indistinct hazes of darkness phrases laced in harshness harnessed and armed with my conviction addiction to truth even when sharp enough to harm you disarm you dis-arm dismember sever limb from limb the smother hot tension seething wriggling writhing ringing in my head sirens throwing up red flags at catch phrases stated like razor blades repeated like mantras she said she said he said they them, my head they said I was lonely they said I was weak i think i thought I believed they loved me someone told me I wasn't worth a cent or sense or that I had no sense or that I was nonsense all of it I think I thought all of it I tense, became tense I tensed over overwhelming disapproval even at a distance for my depreciating assets the expense of my existence my penance for loving myself when it so inconvenienced those I was living around was letting myself think I was worthless forgetting how to count senseless centless arbitrary I have digressed I guess this is all jumbled concept an attempt to recreate the conception of my desecration of the crumbling of my foundation of the ashes left when they, when she,when all of them broke inside my head to watch the walls burn from the inside out ashes and charcoal smudges with indistinct hazes of darkness phrases laced in harshness harnessed and armed with my conviction addiction to truth even when sharp enough to harm you disarm you dis-arm dismember sever limb from limb sin from sin self from worth you hurt me they hurt me I hurt myself because I believed you were telling me the truth. I became dark charcoal smudges and indistinct hazes of darkness phrases laced in harshness harnessed and armed with my conviction addiction to truth even when sharp enough to harm you disarm you dis-arm dismember sever limb from limb kin from kin i'm gone now. think of me as charcoal.
0
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 2:36 AM UTC
charcoal
charcoal smudges and indistinct hazes of darkness phrases laced in harshness harnessed and armed with my conviction addiction to truth even when sharp enough to harm you disarm you dis-arm dismember sever limb from limb tongue from clever whim from quipped retort designed to thwart off the largest offender up wind down wind I don't remember really the direction from whence one came nor name nor much anything other than charcoal smudges and indistinct hazes of darkness phrases laced in harshness harnessed and armed with my conviction addiction to truth even when sharp enough to harm you disarm you dis-arm dismember sever limb from limb the smother hot tension seething wriggling writhing ringing in my head sirens throwing up red flags at catch phrases stated like razor blades repeated like mantras she said she said he said they them, my head they said I was lonely they said I was weak i think i thought I believed they loved me someone told me I wasn't worth a cent or sense or that I had no sense or that I was nonsense all of it I think I thought all of it I tense, became tense I tensed over overwhelming disapproval even at a distance for my depreciating assets the expense of my existence my penance for loving myself when it so inconvenienced those I was living around was letting myself think I was worthless forgetting how to count senseless centless arbitrary I have digressed I guess this is all jumbled concept an attempt to recreate the conception of my desecration of the crumbling of my foundation of the ashes left when they, when she,when all of them broke inside my head to watch the walls burn from the inside out ashes and charcoal smudges with indistinct hazes of darkness phrases laced in harshness harnessed and armed with my conviction addiction to truth even when sharp enough to harm you disarm you dis-arm dismember sever limb from limb sin from sin self from worth you hurt me they hurt me I hurt myself because I believed you were telling me the truth. I became dark charcoal smudges and indistinct hazes of darkness phrases laced in harshness harnessed and armed with my conviction addiction to truth even when sharp enough to harm you disarm you dis-arm dismember sever limb from limb kin from kin i'm gone now. think of me as charcoal.
Continue reading...
109
When I eat my words I eat them with bitterness. A whole grape of wine couldn't encompass the sour seed of my soul. I make promises over the phone, that I love you, that whatever I did wrong can be made right. Just like those withered scuppernogs I think, I can climb the vine again. But there is no remedy for a broken heart, except pain, and letting go. So over dried tears, I tear myself apart over the thought of you. Even in the burgeoning night full of fat storms, I am malnourished, and waiting by the phone while my friends go out, for your call. Love isn't right, or logical or even compassionate. Love is hateful, but love is also love, and the well-spring of humanity stems from that deep acquifer embedded in rock, where you are the drill and I am the spring-loaded limestone full of nourishment. So bae, come back someday, let me climb the steel stairs of your blue eyes, because I've been out and about, and other eyes have found mine, but they have found nothing. You have found and mined everything, and I don't love them for finding nothing, I love you for your scouring and discerning heart. So dismember me, make me human, I'd rather die mortal than immortal and inhuman.
0
Mar 24, 2012
Mar 24, 2012 at 9:18 PM UTC
I Never Planned to Be Your Man, It Just wasn't Me.
I am but a horned boy, I need no compassion, Still afraid of shadows, Still quivers in the wind. The jersey devil called me brittle, “A brittle, crumbling fool you are, “But don’t worry Lucas,” he said, “I’ll be with you forever, “Under Mother Moon’s stars.” I trembl’d at that, Hoped he wouldn't notice, ‘Twas the Fates who cruel, Me, the Hellcat.....and shadows. Seething silhouettes, Wielding daggers, Squeezing thy pulsing heart. Mine own fears fill thy mountain stream, Brittle, now timorous, Struck with afflicted dreams. Confusion, rapturous, the wind whispers in a niche, Tales of vengeance to remember, Conceived I a plot, Look out Hellcat! Fear I, and the word: dismember.                                                              -Firefly
0
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 5:12 PM UTC
Catamite[Poem Four]