"disseminate" poems
yellow banana from the east
making discordian inroads
to vehemence this fall
won't let it turn black
or we can't go back
not an innuendo
put it in a spiral
make it viral
bring a melon
and hard drive
sell the lemon
for half price
buy no frills
airlines tickets
ride with the fruit
to unknown places
disseminate those faces
that munch on the yellow
that icky sticky mellow fellow
well the law of fives dictates its size
must have a five plus maybe a two or three
where did we go with thee can we please go free
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 3:37 PM UTC
*Your thoughts echo in your actions
Each having their consequences
Positive actions disseminate gracefully
Creating a lasting bond with the soul
Pass on your thoughts to beautiful minds
Positive actions can build stronger bonds*
Jun 18, 2015
Jun 18, 2015 at 3:41 PM UTC
They come and
Sale their wilderness
To the city!
They come and
Disseminate their chortle to city dwellers!
They come and
Teach business of honesty and humanity to the
People living in the jungle of concrete and sorrow!
They are prudent,
They are celebrant of
Compassion, peace and happiness!
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 12:26 PM UTC
I wanted to eat you alive with my heart,
Disseminate my love for you,
soul coughing a Heimlich dance routine
that struggled to keep us one.
You were to busy ignoring the coward
that kept me alive
to see the bravery fighting chance
and drawing curtains against fate
There was feeling in these young bones
where the medicine was make believe,
all sugar coated fiery tales to drive us to the well,
wishers of hope forgot that love is an effort.
Liars will tell you that there is just one,
and that one and one is one, and I too,
will lie to you but only to keep the placebos
sweet jesus if you knew the truth.
There's a colourful cobweb
I tangled round us
And yeah, I'd take the floor away,
if it would keep you falling for me.
There is not a thing I wouldn't do
to keep the demons from your door
And the wolves in docile dream states
Nodding yes to your every request.
But Memory lane is no place to build a future,
Lets move past all the haunted houses
and build the home from more than cards
glued together with coffee stains.
Fits of laughter and pits of passion
litter landscapes of love in foreign places
where speaking in tongues
becomes common language.
Blissfully aware of our ignorance
We turned a blind eye to status chorus,
breathing freeform jazz into
independent harmonies,
Shards of Shotgun Showers
Add bass to blissful dreams,
A sense of the real, reeling us in,
A foundation shaken in eternal sin,
As the sax plays us out,
its a standing ovulation,
that keeps us on course,
encores are for failures, and things that... stop.
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 4:25 PM UTC
seven days until the full switch
unfollowed by many a basic *****
the forty-second day of bureaucracy
make everyone a pope in your theocracy
when you find nothing here to which you can relate
revere in the more extreme state
disseminate mate
let's build each other's relevancy
let's outshine complacency
pay attention to current world history
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 9:00 AM UTC
They are the ones
That rule the world for fun
They disseminate the guns
And tell us to run
So we flee
From their disease
That will not cease
Power is control that money buys
Burying us in gold and petty lies
They tell us the well has run dry
While we watch them fly
Fences of barbed wire
For us to admire
Inferno funeral pyres
Burn our desires
When they rattle
We're the cattle
That goes to battle
They talk to us with false information
And real bullets
They say it is our fault for instigation
The trigger they pull it
When their saccharine voice
Offers a laughable choice
Forsake love and compassion
To adopt their fashion
Of society crashing
They used to use lashings
Now they use time
Punishing those who aren't complicit in their crimes
They put us in prison
If we don't agree with their decisions
Decimating Bedouin life
So they can profit from strife
People ask who "they" are
The easiest answer is not me
And the problems aren't too far
For anybody to see
That there is a "they"
Not intent on doomsday
But numb to the death of strangers
Which puts us all in danger
I could point to examples like Lockheed Martin and Shell
As two companies that put us in hell
Or a country like North Korea
That has violent ideas
Or a man like Donald Trump
Who is a parasitic lump
They convince us they don't exist
So we don't resist
While they insist
We enlist
In their army
Of harming
Starring
Them
We hem
And haw
While they write laws
That point out our flaws
That are minimal compared to theirs
Yet they are the fortunate heirs
Who decide the code of conduct
Which is whatever sells their product
From plastic to bombs
Killing dolphins and moms
They feel they can't be wrong
When might
Is right
The meek take flight
But there is poison in the air
And they don't even care
They **** the Earth
And ****** its inhabitants
What are we worth
When it's to the rich we gravitate?
There is an apostle
Who's turned into a fossil
That is converted into fuel
So they can keep their pull
And use us as tools
To unearth jewels
And hoard them
Because we can't afford them
We surrender our resources to a select few
To do what they choose
Until we all lose
And can't see the light of day
Who else to blame but "they"?
Dec 30, 2017
Dec 30, 2017 at 7:38 AM UTC
Fred occupies his chair, innocently enough.
Occupying his time by
Solving the crossword puzzle, racking his brain
for the answers.
So all of the letters fit together.
So every space is filled. The beauty of solved Enigmas.
Ten across. Opposite of faithfulness.
The fire consumes the logs. Contained Chaos.
The room is illuminated in frantic light
Emanating from the fireplace.
Flames prevented from yielding to their Natural
Yearning to Disseminate to whatever matter
Will accept them. Fred sits on his chair,
Innocently enough,
But if you look in those
Eyes of his, you will witness the Beauty of
Pain, la Douleur exquise d'amour.
Loving Someone he will, invariably, love and forgive.
A woman
Whose love has changed patterns. Changed
Directions. Altered. There is a string
That hitches his heart to that of his infidel.
His wife. He feels foreign blood impairing
Them. He knows her. Without her telling
Him anything, he knows the Lies in those
Eyes of her. Confirming his knowledge.
Ten across. Infidelity. Means unfaithful.
She walked in moments ago, sat on the
Usual chair in front of him. Fred’s
Heart aches now with the immensity of the
Heartache within his wife.
He feels her heart has been broken
By the same man who usurped her from
Him every Thursday. She would return
[not quite yet]
Home on those days, Disjointed, Distracted. He
Knew this was what Falling in
Love looked like. But today, his wife's
Heart feels different. Her Lover is
Absent from their blood. Fred no
Longer is
Obligated to pump the blood of his
Wife’s flame throughout his own body.
and yet, he feels sorry for her.
feels her suffering.
feels her pain more than his own.
He watches her face, the Sorrow in
Her eyes drinks the flames of the
Fire. Fred can tell she wishes she were
In the flames. Better yet, the
Blaze itself, free from her despondency,
The places her mind must be traveling to.
Fred is fully aware that she is contemplating
Unloading her triste to him. Not for
His own Benefit, to be Honest with him.
Only to assuage her Guilt, to
empty her conscience of
Bad Blood.
She is a sinner. She will sin
Again. No doubt about that. But.
His Infidel.
He cannot stand to see her...
His love...his life...
If someone is spread out before you
Seeking to surrender to Death,
You do not Simply let them die.
Especially if they share half your blood.
Especially if your Happiness is
Contingent upon their survival.
Fred’s wife has a ghostly look on her
Face and he cannot help but save her from
Her caustic thoughts, from the
Consuming pain in her very
Core.
and so he guides
her back to him.
just her wide eyes.
he knows all.
And He forgives her.
Dec 10, 2012
Dec 10, 2012 at 12:50 AM UTC
How to make nonsense out of bitter citrus fruits
Leave them be, already a font of nonsensical egg yolks
You do this for yourself, your own self, and no other self
Endure another fortnight daliance, you dance forthrightly
Absorb information like paranoia
The facts are lying in bed with an orange banana
How to make something lasting in a world cursed with impermanence
It cannot be done. It simply cannot be done.
The length of a breadbasket will often determine
the size of the loaf
The ratio of meat to potatoes makes nonsensical lemonade
The worst kind...worse than the worst
This document is not intended for distribution
during the lifetime of the author
Only with his passing disseminate expecting sympathy for
the old poet's story, how rarely it truly changes
The ingredients for the above mentioned nonsense
have been properly proportortioned and mixed per instruction
Take a wiff, you can smell the sweet aroma of their baking vapor
As a child I ate spoonfuls of baking powder
The aroma certainly saturates the proceedings
Almost intoxicating how it smacks your heart with nostalgia
The stupid cartoons, the National Lampoon stolen from the convenience store you hung out in
Out in, Out in, Out in, Out in, Out in, Out in, Out in, Out in, Out in
That, my friend, is the beginning from the end
That, my foe, is the bleedin' end of the road
I'm in Ian Curtis' voice, deadening repetion
Day in Day out, Day in Day out, Day in Day out, Day in Day out, Day in Day out
Ding, Ding, the timer in the kitchen chimes it's melancholy ring
The nonsense is at this present moment complete
Ready to serve, ready to eat
and please don't choke on my words, I'm half asleep
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 10:36 PM UTC
Sleight of hand
creates illusion
politicians the rich
in collusion.
Good slaves we
buy their Solutions
titrated diluted pollution.
They've got you wrangled
with the carrots they dangle.
I see black holes
You See Stars Spangled.
"Disseminate fear keep them numb and Confused
they'll reward our
egregious abuse"
but fools won't believe
when it's dark
they see day
so now I tell you
what's the use anyway?
They've got you wrangled
with the carrots they dangle...
You see white stripes.....
I see liberty.....raped and strangled
Keep it obscure,
then hand you a cure,
their best phishing lure
To make you believe
that this country's great
they use a little bitty hook
and a tiny bit of bait
They've got you dangling with the carrots they're wrangling.
I see black holes
you see stars spangling
They've got you wrangled with the bait they dangle...
you see white stripes,
I see liberty ***** and strangled
They got you dangling
with the **** they're wrangling....
Open your eyes
you'll see there angling.
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 5:11 PM UTC
All this lifeless air created from migrated diverted array
Shot from wasted uneventful deep rooted motionless fatigue
Squeezed beneath a realm of misguided beliefs
Things mixed and shattered, confused mistaken repeats
Dug from a soul that never eats
All this lifeless air was created by total dismay
From thoughts that creep without light often in the calmest state
Shaking the essence of what purgatory seeks to infiltrate
With masks that always intolerably penetrate
The gateway to a subtle overactive mind grenade
It hits like a brick, it comes out of nowhere
Breathtakingly taking you into its mystical embrace
To another space in a place where nothing feels the same
Only discombobulation and facades of an erratic charade
Leaving your thoughts confused and in an melancholic state
Calmness in your spirit is a lantern burned from the light inside you
It seeps from your pours and glows intensely within your core
Unmasking horrific ramifications that you justified in the past
Leaving your mind free to disseminate thoughts that usually trespass
Recognizing feelings can be often obsolete
The lurking and self loathing of being stuck in between
a domain of migrated air and empathetic domains
Dragging your lifeless air into migrated array
Only erratic melancholy conceives and births total dismay
Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 1:21 PM UTC
HELLO POETRY is the best poetic site in the world
It allows the poets to disseminate their magical word
Which flies like an ever flying and everlasting bird
Whose beautiful and delightful wings does it spread
Camille Frick is a linguistic wonder
Chris is a literary and poetical wonder
Yelena M is a musical rhythmic beauty
Reading which is my professional duty
Rue is somewhat naughty
But in her hearts of hearts she is a sweety
Neva Flores is a poetic muse
Whose poetry I involuntarily choose
I am happy to be a member of this prosody club
Our creativity revolves round this magnetic hub
We are indebted to this wonderful web
Writing poetry is a kind of hubbub
Feb 2, 2011
Feb 2, 2011 at 4:28 AM UTC
From the crest of your head,
To the ***** of your feet.
I love every inch of you,
A couple of forevers.
Only makes you taste,
All the more sweet!
I get lost in the ocean,
That lies behind your eyes.
A manifestation of your love,
Even greater than
What's between your thighs!
Making constant eye contact,
To disseminate later periods of bereave.
As open as a window,
On a cool summer night's eve.
A couple of forevers,
Just falling leaves from a tree.
A couple of forevers,
Just small trials to endure.
Even smaller,
When I think of you,
Spending forever with me.
May 10, 2016
May 10, 2016 at 9:51 AM UTC
Blinking cursor
Nemesis
Friend with benefits
I
Spill
Pixel
And disseminate wisps
A dais for your tor
Glyph of whim
Cursor that waits
I know you
I know you all too well
You grant a world of potential
And yet I'm all knees
I bite the curb
My words spent
conferred to a
Vampiric ligerhawk Nemo
Whom eyeballs me
Into an X
New Document
Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 10:21 PM UTC
Castigate Sublimate
Sanctify Indoctrinate
Expatriate Disseminate
Proselytize Reiterate
Reject, Deny, and Obfuscate
Incarcerate Dehumanize
Desensitize Decimate
Incinerate Rejuvenate
Simplify and Permeate
Jan 7, 2017
Jan 7, 2017 at 9:44 AM UTC
but yes, i could
smile at you like an electric fence, could
**** myself over in
a field of happiness, resemblant,
there i stand,
on fire or just waking.
of course, neither of
us needs that, though. my
motions jar and disseminate truth
throughout me:
of foundation stone, or
of necessary monuments i
am hardly built, i
cut breath, breakfast and no class, i
can fall under a bus or
in love with you,
and the dull ache would remain;
and these days would still part.
and some small town would sleep,
all the same. so say
anything, or just idle and
stay and i'll go spiralling
down all the same.
Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 5:34 AM UTC
Distance will not run out
Therefore I will not remain empty
It is a plan to continue like so, without rushing
of whom only thinks about arriving
I stay here, smooth and belated
Seeing the rhythm choose what it becomes
I free myself of peaks and I learn
that to love is to spread impulse
To renew me, to surrender without thirst
to give oneself entirely until being one
But distance does not run out like so
nor the light or the silence they give us
I stay here, serving to her the rhythm
that perhaps is more rich to disseminate the most vital
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 1:28 AM UTC
take it,
live it,
like it,
return it,
loan it,
sleep on it,
look at it,
close it,
open it,
occupy it,
own it,
buy it
populate it,
disseminate it,
talk about it,
listen to it,
feel it
destroy it,
stop it,
yet to in love with it....
(c) Ko Win Khine aka. D Hlaine (May 4th, 2016. NYC)
May 4, 2016
May 4, 2016 at 1:48 PM UTC
Straight out of the gate
if you’re standing with hate
then you are my nemesis,
so vacate the premises
because your premise is
parallel to white supremacists.
Your weakness is obvious.
Our problems can’t be solved
by ignorance that abolishes
any semblance of human decency.
Life’s strange variety helps society
overcome unforeseen calamities,
create new works of art
and science that moves us
from here to where we could be
traveling universally,
whilst expanding intellectually.
Your violence
doesn’t help human beings;
It loosens the strings
that tie us together.
Defining a stranger
as a danger
because of their color,
imaginary borders,
or gender identity
doesn’t serve to
strengthen our foundations
but turns earth to rot
as those who have a lot
use the wealth they got
to disseminate hatred,
and take more and more.
I know you love it,
but take your Sexism,
Transphobia, Racism,
and discrimination
and shove it.
-2022 December
Dec 2, 2023
Dec 2, 2023 at 4:53 PM UTC
Let's collaborate and coordinate, cooperate and disseminate.
Let's not disassociate or dare to hesitate, rather let's keep going til we reach a state of counterweight that celebrates the gifts our Father freely donates for us to re-dedicate and elevate His name til we resonate with the angels at heavens gates.
Amen.
Sep 5, 2017
Sep 5, 2017 at 4:52 PM UTC
The sparkling resplendence of tarnished rumination, the thoughts of her cutting like blades bloodied and boiling with ether,
Like glittering gallows where we hang up the trills of lost trauma, banging on gongs and on pots and on pans, crashing through the headspace with decadent and sumptuous thrilling complication,
His hands a scribbling scribe that wallows and wails in the pale of the night, while following the foe of non-sleep fain all fright and find the delight,
His description and usage remaining elusive of how lovely her feature, how delicate her sentience a well-crafted creature, his prose turned to poem and poem to epic and epic to clinging epiphytes of language, not lulling and forever becoming more than that which he saw there upon the gravel and crunching sounding floor,
For the floor of his mind is like trudging over hot coals allowing the pain of the flame to devour the pain of not knowing what comes next, trying for timeless metaphors that appear naked and **** without garment or raiment and such is the payment of prose,
Quivering quills of peacocks long forgot now scrawled on the parchment, the ink of jet black is spilt and flows over the page and lost all the words like the shore on the sand erasing returning the gift of creation back to its rightful owner,
Now pondering the omen and hating himself for his tragic mistake his story lost forever for he will never remake or rebuild that amazing love letter, whipped to the gutter,
Before his tongue stutter his chest starts to flutter, now pick up that instrument of poetry and grow without wilting and disseminate what you create,
For to get so far and fail and try again then you are an artist, rewriting what was heard, even though it is blurred with the fading memory, and that is the identity of art.
Nov 2, 2015
Nov 2, 2015 at 9:22 AM UTC
On this path obstructed by red rose bushes
Lies the era of our golden dreams
Whose thorns pierce every limb of our body
But whose pulchritude emphasizes on its radiant gleam
And when those thorns disseminate pain
Our eyes are reassured by the blindening red
The kind of red that rejuvinates hope
And enlightens those who simply sit and mope
But for some it may breed new selfish desires
Desires that are capable of arousing compulsion
And desires that gradually exteriorize to lust's
But when such lust's lie with in reach
They simply abrade ,
Just like the iron rusts
Despite knowing the pain it entails
We transition on this path from threshold to terminus.
Combatting incessantly in this unremitting struggle
We allow the gust to bear us along.
Jul 18, 2015
Jul 18, 2015 at 8:51 AM UTC
everyone else sleeps while this weather
takes a peculiar turn,
decides to chronicle with a mild kiss
of drizzle on the loam.
you did not know the name for
the mortal perfume of the Earth in the heat
of contrary figures but knew the nascent lunacy
of things and the dangers of their pursuit.
the gripping contravention holding things together,
a piece of the sun against the urban sky
and your apparition splayed as cold silhouette,
forced libation of Earth to soothe its machine,
sharp impressions accurate with details,
disseminate through the static conveyor of messages
the intact hieroglyph of your movement
in this odd weather.
Mar 22, 2016
Mar 22, 2016 at 6:10 AM UTC
Sorry for the delay. I was busy.
I'm still alone. U?
**********************************
zealotry yawping within un
pretentious sporty, quirky,
oddly, manly, kooky, impisly, gummy,
edgy, dorky, cocky, belly airs
to disseminate, a quick
literary flourishing brushstroke
no on nest to dog lie 'n, tie gears
(tigers) boot this chap bears,
who copped, dropped,
plopped out of college devoid of any careers,
and wandered the globe after
searching classifieds for reign leaderless deers,
this buck rogers wannabe could be doe ting,
and assist sleigh get off the ground
on account of his Dumbo ears,
despite abomination, hesitation, and trepidation
to push comfort zone and exposure therapy skyward
in order to over nervousness about being in high places
plus countless other fears,
and an extreme intervention measure considered,
would be brain transplanat with that of another,
whose mental cogs and gears
and a canine like audibility acute as a hares
means to sprint at light speed if senses
being caught in the cross hairs of a gun barrel,
whose fate doomed demise almost insnares,
yet PETA type person would loathe any jeers
if any animal alluded to characterized
heading toward harm
and in reality, this heir,
who favors knitwears
with pink frilly (“I HATE BOYS”) *******
would put his measly life on the line,
cuz aye believe every creature own right to live,
whether they dwell in **** trees or underground lairs,
oh..., or kept in stable condition
of ca horse hi mean mares,
a barn strewn with hay during the day
to fend off pitch black ominous sounds
Equus ferus caballus (Hardy
as a mountain Laurel),
but quite susceptible to nightmares
thus some veteranarians strongly suggest
cloth eye elastic lined ocular shades,
but please make sure Mister Ed,
or his ilk doth newt overhears.
------------------------------------
addy ewe - matthew scott harris
Nov 23, 2017
Nov 23, 2017 at 12:40 AM UTC
i said deer, deer! i didn't say rain dear or reindeer,
but anyway, where's my sledge and
boxes filled with presents?
i just looked like some madman running,
but then the animals were in too much stress
i had to appoint them a new rudolf.
<strike>( now the extra lines signifying
that i'm about to ruin a ****** decent poem:
as honest as it might be worth inquiring
to then only doubt... well, my heart
is still in a state of rhythmic crescendos that
just bulges into song for such depths
of experience, the thrill as if being the stag
leading them from one patch of forest to another:
basically i mean you experience the emotions
of doubt, and i'll just experience this.
no monkeys around to try and be tarzan,
plus it would have been traffic chaos,
as the two drivers on the road would nod to approvingly.
so women lie about their age,
and men lie about the date of birth,
so she gets all muddling puzzles reading a horoscope.
actually, you know what? i'm going to start
calling it journalism, every poet being the new journalist
exposing his private life, extremely
given the innermost of what they actually disseminate
thinking & feeling, as the two so far apart
that feelings give almost automatic thinking in
this medium, we once called poetry; why?
just because the word and art form originated in greek
does not mean it has to remain there forever.
bigmouth strikes again at the unsatisfactory edifice
of unattainable written expression of such emotion as shared
with the wild.)</strike>
well it was kinda funny, cos i was also holding a beer can.
Sep 30, 2015
Sep 30, 2015 at 10:43 PM UTC