"disposed" poems
The basin drains her polluted blood as wine envelopes morose
Every minute is a memory, onset of her blanketed comatose
Vying in a fog of icons and myths, words always fail them
From every misread evil that is disposed of improperly
From every neighbor or friend eternally mute again
From every gilded pattern that leaves a cuff for the eyes
From every fetching barroom, where all such nadir lies
May 14, 2017
May 14, 2017 at 10:30 AM UTC
You, I,
polymorphously perverse
your hand covers my mouth
voices adverse
Liberation, but in reverse.
Submit and admit...
Or
disposed to oppose...
I want to beg, plead,
submerse and disburse
I burst in silence for my cursed thirst
first, be more covert,
I'd prefer if we
don't
converse
I'll sing you your pleasure without
a
single
verse.
Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 3:54 PM UTC
i am tired,
my eyes start to close,
i feel undesired,
my body is disposed.
Nov 7, 2017
Nov 7, 2017 at 2:27 PM UTC
It was not, by any means, a loss of faith;
Indeed, her devotion was a boundless, unfettered thing
Beyond proscription, beyond rote chant and catechism,
And what she found as a novitiate
Were shuttered gates and gossipy confessionals,
Standoffish priests, pig-eyed and pinch-lipped
Sisters who thought life’s commerce
No more than mechanical prayer and spotless linens,
The whole enterprise
Smacking of the exclusion of Heaven’s bounty.
So she demurred when the time came to take her orders,
And she returned to the world of pavements and lesser pieties,
Free to seek God on park swings and barstools,
In pleasures of the pastoral and the profane,
Though her faith is no Dionysian walkabout,
As she is passionate to the cusp of maniacal
When it comes to the Book of James’ admonition upon works;
She is often found among the sisters she once tiptoed alongside
At food pantries and clothing drives
(She is scrupulous about ministering to only secular needs,
As the Bishop is not happily disposed towards those
Who choose not to take the veil,
And the specter of excommunication is a prospect
Too awful to contemplate)
Afterwards clambering onto some vaguely roadworthy MTA bus
Back to her studio apartment in Green Island,
Where she often walks down to the Erie Canal lock nearby,
Praying for those who have travelled near and upon the water,
Convenience store clerks and ragged Irishmen fleeing famine,
Feral kittens and insufficiently mourned mules.
Nov 16, 2017
Nov 16, 2017 at 10:39 AM UTC
I was the paper crane that you made. What once kept your interest. You thought that I was beautiful, a work of art.
But now you've disposed me like all the other crap that's useless to you now.
*******
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 9:09 AM UTC
twas a most disturbing scene
in a kitchen at Aberdeen
the details are too horrific
to disclose
let's say this
and this alone
the forensic team
had to ladle some bone
bits of dermis
were scattered around
the kitchen compound
the wife had done the deed
she'd disposed of her husband
who was a bad seed
he'd been thumping and slapping
her around
knocking her with force
to the ground
she'd contended
with his rough house treatment
for far too long
so she decided
to right his wrong
she's in prison
doing time
but it is her husband
who now tows the line
domestic violence
did him no favors
a woman was pushed
one too many times
in a kitchen at Aberdeen
gruesome was the crime
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 8:14 AM UTC
The time has come, for me to fray
the long lost fortune peace and joy
and i peep all around to see a ray
to give me hope and stop to cry
in the face of dispair, i will still try
it feels like hell and i need to fly
am about to burst and am full of thought
then if she left to me its draught
the touch of her hand and a kiss so hot
swimming basking and the fish we caught
fear and doubt with love we fought
she always escaped to what we ought
then came the insighter and he seemed brighter
taking her out and treating her better
Using a phone when i used letters
things were hard especially with a competitor
forgot me complete together with her litter
it seemed to her there was nothing sweeter
after utelizing the better of her best
he disposed her and then left
she had some pain in the chest
when she came in serch for rest
she was mine but we had to test
to avoid being hung like a nest
A drop of blood and a little buffer
recalled how our children would suffer
if through ignorance our life was vapour
my test was a line and my partners twice
why would life be so very unfair?
her episode was so shortlived
yet she left me huge a burden
to the kids we had i was both parents
just be cause she wouldn't heed
even doctors advice on adherence
all in all i had to say goodbye
coz she was mine for the time we spent
what i am now going through
is a fruit of ignorance and disobedience
my urge my prayer,
that not one falls into the same
it's so easy to say that,
lets avoid the idea of shame
by first escaping the blame
by keeping ourselfs tame.
Sep 15, 2018
Sep 15, 2018 at 3:00 AM UTC
Breeze bellows,
leaves echo in
quivering psithurism,
dithering like
unbroken smoke,
this approaching omen goads.
Dozing crows
slumbering in rows,
droves of locusts'
silenced drone,
almost comatose in repose;
nighttime overtones
choir of toads'
raspy croaks
answered by alto
of crickets' orchestral strokes.
Gust encroaches;
robed boughs
cloven open,
bring into
scope and focus
me juxtaposed,
suspended apropos.
Although motionless
and petrified in stone,
provoked by zephyr
coaxing to and fro;
swaying pendulous
and no longer frozen,
locus gently thrown.
Death rattle moan
evoked from throat,
reflex can't say no
to rigor rigidly posed,
final sigh in silence,
awoken vocal,
expelled and disposed.
Smote by
morose emotion,
gun loaded then exploded
by neurosis,
now bloated
necrosis decomposes
into gross ochre.
This trophy
and this ode
both an opus to
my inability to cope;
romanced i proposed,
eloped and betrothed to
my own
inappropriate composure.
Pocket full of posies
plucked when luck bestowed
and tears in a cup, a toast;
crying copiously,
tempest runneth overflowed,
eyes swollen and soaked.
Dipped my toes
in the coast
of this ocean's
amorphous folds,
gripped by undertow
holding control of my soul;
swiftly shipwrecked in
shallow shoal,
an old atoll.
On sandy floor,
water burrows roads;
digging, carving, roams
through unmarrowed
silica and sandstone
eroding into a cove.
A host for
opal geode trove,
enclosing a
technicolor rose,
from the depths
a glowing mosaic shone
Unopened lotus floats
on foam
of lapping waves,
a boat;
prone to no
grandiose notion
or motive,
adrift as wind stokes.
I suppose
this only shows
the total corrosion
into which I dove,
the only foes to oppose
are those of burdens, so
only weightless can I atone-
I must let go.
Mar 11, 2024
Mar 11, 2024 at 11:02 AM UTC
Holy Monday
walking with
my dog in
the burbs
I spied
a palm frond
laying by
the curb
still moist
and pliant
fresh to
touch
what
blasphemer
discarded this
icon beloved
so much?
one day
removed
from
Palm
Sunday
glory
does the
heathen who
disposed of it
know this
precious
leaf’s
story?
it was then
I recalled
its reason
for being
its a carpet
for a King’s
footsteps
its not for
keeping
so there
it lay
where
it should
be
as my
dog and I
resumed
our closer
walk with
Thee
Music Selection: Willie Nelson
Just a Closer Walk With Thee
Oakland
4/2/12
jbm
Mar 21, 2013
Mar 21, 2013 at 9:21 PM UTC
A waste paper bin
Left in the corner.
Containing little folded up letters,
Discarded as the heart was.
A gang of stupid teenage vandals having a laugh,
Disregarded what they had done.
Disposed of the butts irresponsible after having their smokes,
In the bin.
Not doused.
The silly lads.
Wandered away.
They did not see the smouldering,
the burning in that bin
The origami scraps,
Folded as swans,
Too charred to fly away.
Sadly written on the innards of the origami swans,
Words carried on love letters never to be seen again.
Their love was carried away on a puff of white smoke.
(c) Livvi
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 8:51 PM UTC
So excuse me while I dump out my Starbucks in the fridge
and paper shred my valued customer card.
Let me hate coffee for you,
Because you're the only person I've been willing to hate coffee for in three years.
Those other boys could never tear me from the coffee shop counter,
I would latch on like a koala to a tree limb,
Thirsting for that satisfying and hypnotizing liquid.
Let me loath coffee for you,
Because I haven't been so excited about loathing coffee in three years.
Its tantalizing aromatics will woo me no more.
The other men in my life have no affect on my love affair with these beans,
Their scents loop around my neck and drag me in,
The craving becomes irrefutable,
My bones creak with each body convulgence
In response to the grinders on the espresso machines.
Please let me get you a drink,
Orange juice? Milk?
Gatorade?
I swear, I'll keep coffee as far away as possible at all times,
Avoiding every Dunkin' Donuts while driving,
Every quaint mom-and-pop coffee shop while walking,
And flight attendants will never dare bring a coffee ***
on their food cart when we fly.
I won't ***** this up with the **** coffee,
Because perhaps it was coffee the last three times that left things in rancid rot,
The filters from yesterday's shift never disposed of.
Let's go anywhere but a coffee shop together,
Let's go everywhere but a coffee shop forever.
And I promise,
I won't even try and sneak a latte around you,
But can I please keep my chai tea?
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 12:01 AM UTC
I saw what you did,
You son of a *****
You barely got away,
Over a stupid glitch,
The mistake wont repeat itself,
I can assure you of that,
You can hide away nightly,
In your pervy little flat.
All those little ones you took,
And disposed of their souls,
Ripped at their dreams,
**** all over their goals,
But you didnt figure me,
You pathetic slime ball,
I will haunt your dreams,
I will watch you crawl,
Wherever you are going,
Ill be there first,
To dampen your ugly addiction,
And to dry up your ***** thirst,
I will make you suffer,
For every one you hurt,
Your redemption is too late now,
You paedo piece of dirt!!!
May 25, 2010
May 25, 2010 at 9:18 AM UTC
Beneath the bends of Barrymore
On the southwest winds she chants some more
The clouds scoot by beneath the moon
Some say she's crazy like the loon
Dressed in black she cackles back
Tossing ashes from a sack
She throws her body down
And moans and sobs into the ground
A dagger she does draw it forth
Holding it up for all its worth
She shrieks and damns her birth
And plunges it deep into her heart . . .
So ends the life of the despised young **** . . .
Now the owls come silently in
Alighting next to still warm skin
All walk around the disposed young beast
Only uttering "Who" to say the least
Then the great owl comes fluttering in
He'd be a giant if he were made of men
He collectively surveys the scene
Takes a few steps before he says a thing
"Take her body to Evermoor"
The great one orders and implores
And all the owls take to wing
Holding the remains of the breathless thing
And take her earthly shell away
And as drops of blood fell from the flow
to the earth a white rose would grow
Leaving a trail
To the land as some will say
To the sacred woods of Evermoor
Yes sacredness in evermore
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 9:19 AM UTC
In your past, this past
they weren't valued
no one said they were members of the family
what walks on four legs and is furry and cute is only
to last as long as nature intended and then to be disposed of
Veal calves in crates, taken from mothers on the day of their birth
to make more milk for humans, horse slaughter for glue
and foi gras, ducks and geese locked in a vice grip of their cages
metal tubes rammed down their throats and force fed until a liver disease
develops, painful, but given no respite
and served as a delicacy and
fur coats from animals skinned alive right here in America
still when mink farms are outlawed in the Netherlands and
two million dogs and cats skinned in China every year not to mention
other horrors and no one cared or looked their way because they are
only animals, and voiceless and helpless and no one cared to give them
a voice or advocacy
"that's why they're there, for our use, people still say" who profit from an industry
of suffering
And today, there are people who try to give them a voice and there are veterinarians who will try to help you with your member of the family, as he suffers, in his old age
a bag of fluids hangs from my exercise bike, and intermixed with my medications
is the painkiller and anti-nausea pills for my dear old friend
whose pancreas is failing
and father, this is foreign to you
you pretend it is a crime
silence is the only thing connecting us now
I hope you enjoyed your last barrage of unkind words
I think you did. The saddest thing I've learned about people like you
is
you feel better after such an attack, to see me reeling, bleeding on the ground
and you feel better, calmer and purged.
A kind of misbegotten peace settles over you
an exploitive peace from another's tears and pain
And yes, father, there were no agencies to give a voice to children
when you were young
no CPS, to aid my nine year old ***** friend
as a code of silence enveloped her attacker
to protect him, the one who destroyed her
But today there is a small brigade of a modern kind of love
to give a voice, protection, soothing to the ones who can
only suffer at our hands and not protect themselves from
our wrath and exploitation
and it is a better world for that, father
for my furry pancreatic friend and for any other
nine year old **** victims here
Mar 24, 2013
Mar 24, 2013 at 12:38 PM UTC
Dissappeared as if a dark cloud decayed the body in a matter of miliseconds and disposed of it somewhere unknown. Never did I see a single sign of being psychologically sick. Not one piece of evidence to prove her existence. Multiple memories of her wither away slowly. No discernment to the delphian disappearance. Very vague memories of her, perhaps she was a vision. Maybe, just maybe my imagination had gone too far with my mind. No! Her disappearance was real; but due to her irrelevance, and exodus she was forgotten in the conscious mind of others. Maybe its time that I finally forget about the phantom that haunts my memories, and makes me question my sanity. Gone she is, and gone she will be. So the acknowledgment of her existence is Irrelevant. She is now, and forever has and will be nonexistent. -V.H.
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 2:51 PM UTC
should've been the bigger person
and walked away from you right then
should've never folded my hand
and just let you win again
feelings aren't like chess pieces,
you can't stratagize and move
them wherever you want
don't know what game you're
playing but count me out
mark my words, that one day
you'll be sorry for the way
you disposed of me
should've been the stronger person,
and just took your right and left hooks
should've never tapped out
and shown my weakness
hearts aren't like diamonds,
you can't wear them around
your finger, take them off
throw them in a box until later
don't know what you value me
at but I know that I don't
shine like I used to
should've been the bigger person,
and let sleeping dogs lie before me
should've never kicked the hive
and expected to get honey
Nov 30, 2012
Nov 30, 2012 at 1:54 AM UTC
11/24/2017
Everybody says i dodged a bullet
But the bullet landed
As for the trigger, was it him or me that pulled it?
I thought he helped my heart expand its hard to think i even could with
Both feet braced on solid ground
Our situationship wasnt planned
I know its hard to understand
From the outside its easy to brand me
Can we analyze every time i noticed how masterfully he handled me?
I understand that time is the only poultice
But for a moment Id like to be candid please
The bullet landed and it travelled
It ripped a path through my flesh
Day by day i ate less and less
Let this be as many lessons
As you can manage to pull from this
The side pieces and the rest is all fluff and ********
He put strings on my heart and pulled it
And i danced and said “how high”
And my soul became dull it became harder and harder to wake up every day
Is it ok to say the only redeeming quality is that he never struck me?
But i wanted to escape the pain of being stuck he told me never, ever again to cut
He didnt see that he was the reason i needed release
The Mona Lisa was out of luck
Finally the bullet festered
The pain became so great
And the benefits so much less
The bullet ripped a path
I cut it out and sealed it back
Now the bullet is nothing but waste
And i can find a new way to relate
New tissue to create
It takes talent to close, to suture they say
“Approximate, dont strangulate”
And now the bullet is disposed
So they say i dodged a bullet
But the bullet landed
It ripped a path through my flesh
Til i became so much less
And the wound began to fester
So i cut out the bullet and cleaned up the rest
Now i have a scar to show the truth
The bullet landed
And i still choose
Not to be bulletproof
Apr 15, 2018
Apr 15, 2018 at 8:21 PM UTC
This **** could be a lot easier
if I wasn't so dusty
or if my aspiration hasn't been disposed
or exposed. 'Thought you'd like to know.
I'm failing math again."
And my game is still obviously whack,
Anyway I got you to come over.
So, with a pretty girl now and drinking kombucha,
all these Facebook friends
I didn't think I'd have to see again.
Beckon me with a tight fist.
Refresh the laptop and let the afterglow echo
back and drift,
over a nose and fascinating lips.
"You know the bars here don't close till very late."
Everything I love will probably crumble
into a glass of soju. Vices
and the soul undressed
and the fish market's funk clings and holds tightly
onto another's thin grey hoodie.
"What do you do?"
Hobbies among other things include googling
or maybe just oogling at an Incheon passerby.
"Seoul tonight is almost as bright as you."
Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 9:56 PM UTC
another
smothered lover
in the Hollywood hills
unbag the bottle
crack the seal
oh the appeal
of intake
for the sake
of intoxication
so meek and unique
in gurgled screams
a pixie in the hand of a king
compelled
to discretely
capture the beauty
in eternity
expelled
i just felt
i had to nest a shell
and befell
clearing her residual
flirtatious signals
even in the squirms
and even in the squeals
even though i know
she yearns
to be hooked by her gills
dragged through landfills
in a projected field
where she would yield
and kiss me.
i'm gonna pretend
to love her
as i tenderly
shove her
in the river
of our love
take her under
my loving thunder
and plunder her
when drugged
dazed in her wonder
i hold her under
from above
if only for a moment
we locked eyes in love
she fit me like glove
remnants
disposed of
in a rug
posed so beautifully
for the smack
hack and rip
one pretty *****
dumped
in an irrigation ditch
triumphed
our wordless
relationship
its over *****
move on with it
in the mouths
of varmints
oh
charming
as im clicking *****
on key chains
sticking misfits
with loose lips
usually homeless
decoys
here to destroy
nothing
in my twisted ploy
to employ
maximum points
conjoint
my addictive anger
to something a little stranger
im going to dangle
her entrails
in front of her eyes
while i'm bangin her
shes looking so surprised
from every camera angle
the mangled piece of ****
what a lamo
hypnotized
in the passing of life
in the
blood
the ***
the ****
and the knife
Aug 20, 2012
Aug 20, 2012 at 9:22 PM UTC
I don't get impressed much
Pompous air
I am prepared
Introvert with no care
I disposed of rationality
I am red hair of despair
A soul wrapped in profanity
I digress quite often
Please no applause then
Watch the show
I am the soul of insanity and you answered me
Feb 8, 2018
Feb 8, 2018 at 2:49 PM UTC
Comparatively speaking,
It's grand to live
In Canada.
It's as free as one can get,
Comparatively.
We have one hundred percent
Control over our destiny
And our bodies:
That is,
Until we near the end.
Then,
Our government decides
How we die.
I suspect they want to know
That I'm one hundred percent
Disposed and dispossessed.
Jul 15, 2015
Jul 15, 2015 at 4:59 PM UTC
I strip
To rip
Myself from
Myself
Major labels
Silly slogans
Dry wash only
Made to define me
Walking billboard
Corporate *****
I take off the hat
For the team I support
Put down all the digital devices
Cause they replaced my old vices
Remove the faded Levis
The Nikes, and super hero shirt
Disposed of the whole disguise
Got rid of the old lies
To find what really lyes
Behind my hazel eyes
Naked to find
Who am I beyond my
Consumer style consumption
Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 12:34 PM UTC
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.
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 4:11 AM UTC
In the midst of sea, we scream
Where are humans?
Where are super humans?
None to respond to our desperate scream,
In the midst of a sea, we are
A deserted island
One that can most likely be submerged or
Reach shores unlikely
By the events, we remain helpless
Being human less and with inhumanness
We, at the brink of death & last inch of hope
Expect miracles and wonders
Nature fails us
Kills our expectations, fills more sorrow
Nature fills our body with
Slow approaching death,
We remain as a secluded mass of useless disposed waste,
On a world that has a place for all the flora & fauna
Modern nations-the epitomes of peace
Wash their hands away remain
A hopeless, useless, helpless puppet
Ostracized from our ancestral land
Vehemently opposed and reluctantly accepted
We remain a displaced alien
In their eyes.
There are nations,
But where are humans? Where are humans?
A hope puts us to survive,
Where we leave a message,
As we get back to the graves.
We send the waves of final message; we fall,
Not as a disposed waste,
But as a Phoenix that falls as a nutrition,
For the soil,
To revive an infinite and eternal humanity
That stands tall as an undestroyable banyan tree
Unshakable on any crises
For humanity, we give ourselves
As dare-doers and daring self-killers.
Let's harvest the human hearts
With the ever rising flames
And give back
Our future generations the homes.
We lost and dreams we wished
With a thin ray of distant hope,
We dream to give our future generations
A world that has no,
Hopelessness of being helpless.
We assert
We are helpless, but not hopeless
Sep 24, 2018
Sep 24, 2018 at 1:17 AM UTC
cast out
chucked away
deep-sixed
discarded
discharged
disposed of
expelled
flung aside
thrown down
jettisoned
deserted
jilted
vacated
left in abdication
aggravated
outcast
rejected
eliminated
forgotten
given up
godforsaken
Oct 4, 2011
Oct 4, 2011 at 11:02 AM UTC