"domestication" poems
and there i am in the midst of it all, conscious of what appears to be existent, yet knowing it is illusory. and if time is occurring synchronously then how can i look back with contrition? for if i have the capacity to move backwards and forwards in quantum leaps, i can erase the past like pastel chalk on an antique blackboard, then start anew. is not the sky my canvas and the arc of the rainbow my palette? and the stars in lustrous luminosity light my way so that ev’n at dusk I can paint. yet pain ne’er ceases to hollow me out. then through a barren vessel i catch more rain, and pour it out upon the parched terrain. just when i thought enlightenment was nigh, a sharp edge is discovered. must it necessitate additional sandpapering from the wind? when will the gemstone sparkle without further pressure? does it lie in its power to simply shimmer sans duress? perhaps it was dazzling at its inception, relinquishing its luster upon domestication. with this proviso, as it nears twilight i shall tarry and blend with the night. i’ll dance with a moonbeam knowing the jewel will glisten afresh upon the rise of the golden sun.
@2016janetaylor
May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 11:37 AM UTC
born in illusory chains
gnarled metal
encrusted in my broken skin
the copper colored dust
of rusted steel
infectiously envelopes
shaving off antiquated layers
of fundamentalist religion
encrusted for generations
unpeeled until raw
an unsophisticated method
unveiling
ancient lodged glass shards
colored with deceit
brought before their court
interrogated
unfathomably skewered
an eerie salem witch trial
in modern times
barbarically they shun me
banished
i wander aimlessly
smelling the rotten decay of deceased community
as splinters pierce my feet
from the crooked wooden plank
i walk alone now
an unfathomable inner ache
kindled a residue within
igniting a wildfire from the darkest shadows
uncontainably erupting
i dance savagely
naked in the orange moonlight
and in every shaded edge
lit my soul ablaze
i am a nomad sheep
‘tho not one of their color
no pasture to contain me
no shepherd i can follow
theological safety nets
no longer there to catch me
bohemian-like
i plunge
free falling
plummeting
stripped wide open
magically
fearlessness
reverses gravitation
floating
untethered
i soar amongst
apricot tinged clouds
my skin still wet from rebirth
and rise with the flaming coral sun
you cannot destroy me
i twisted in your decrepit pencil sharpener
and with fresh mettle
cut through the chains that bound
you can have my ego
but you cannot have my soul
dismantling domestication
transcending limitation
wildly untamed
i fly
©2016janetaylor
Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 6:40 AM UTC
I was raised in the wild
With all the defiled
So my mood was mild
While bodies were piled
I was a lonely coyote
The other creatures didn't know me
Because I slinked in the shade
To avoid their detection
Loneliness is what I had to trade
To pass their inspection
Other animals couldn't brave the weather
Or their fragile arteries were severed
They laid there dead
I wondered if they ever lived
It went to my head
What this world can give
I saw the buzzards
Ring their buzzers
Then the maggots fed on their brain
While not understanding their pain
These images did me no good
While I was stuck in the woods
And I couldn't see the forest through the trees
I was lost
If I didn't find a home by winter I would freeze
In the frost
I tried to find a home in hollowed trees
But I was chased out by a bunch of bees
And the darkened caves
Seemed like shallow graves
When that's where bats play
But peaceful open meadows
Left me susceptible to attack
Everything seemed mellow
So I had to watch my back
Winter was approaching
And I saw no solutions
The cold air encroaching
Like frigid pollution
But my shady luck shifted
Once I was graciously gifted
A powerful and majestic horse
That put me on a better course
I ride the steed with a leather saddle
Made of skin stripped off simple cattle
It took the strength of an ox
To hold down this fox
Yet my domestication
Calls for celebration
Because now I live in a house
Without having to hide like a mouse
I can strut like a peacock
With a bird of my flock
It's a form of animal husbandry
Because you're in love with me
I'm the insistent critter
From a different litter
That saw life wither
From damage inner
I was a raccoon digging through the trash
Now I'm a phoenix rising from the ash
You're an agricultural guy
So vultures circle the sky
Looking to harvest your bountiful crop
They must smell death underneath it
Their presence makes my heart drop
And all I want to do is defeat it
But even as they get near
You remain here
We stand together as scarecrows
In a defensively unified paired row
This is the delightful day
You end all my wild ways
And eliminate my suffering
With your animal husbandry
Mar 5, 2018
Mar 5, 2018 at 3:48 PM UTC
so greed took mankind
with genetics
decomposed from the inside
a sick thought, I thoughts.
... inhale your doom, I thought. change your ways, you ought, I thought.
choke the carcinoma cells.
knee swells, Capricorn.
better go later for assurance of;
Death.
talk to those doctors;feed your own lies,
only to discover
them being drunk off of disguise.
sick conditioned,
The words definition, domestication
of everything
Everything
gratitude gratitude to Pavlov, whose name capitalizes;
a way of nature
creature creator, part of the world's annihilator.
cousin to eugenics we have cosmetics, anesthetics for the mind.
a nice golden walkway for mankind.
inevitably so, We herd along, too dumb to fight what we refuse to know.
Ignorance, etiquette, silence; rhyme.
herbal healing humans; survive.
© 2015 Kate Volk
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 3:07 AM UTC
I got complete love for all you jiggas
But I'm trying to hurt, slay and ****** all you jiggas
It's not that I'm a militant mind
I just know competition can either enhance your strive or leave you to die!
Who am I?
Maybe the greatest untold story...the one that focused on pain but zoomed out on all my glory
Shut up!
Take another sip of your ego and chase that muthafucker down with a full glass of all of your evil
And call ya boy up
I think his name was kaneval
Separate all your selfishness
Hand out your blessing and see if you and god can finally become equal
I can't take ya
But I can't leave ya
I just feel at times I'm suffocating so I use your energy to break ya!
Remember that I'm unheard of
Rarely do ya listen
A woman still says a man AIN'T ****
THAN TURNS AROUND TO HER FRIEND AND WHISPERS..."love is what my heart is missing"
Are serious?
Manipulation got ya dreary *** minds all curious? So you grab the wheel and suddenly you in control?
She was the one who traded in her pride, self respect and worth all for a false story to be told
then you went home with him
got a bedtime story told from him
now it's your bitterness that's not working out like fitness that creates a beautiful smile to turn sour and grim.
You probably wondering "what **** got Dougy so mad?"(DJbreak)
BREAK THAT!
It's D-O-U-G-I-E
but I'm sure that was my bad...
cause ya can't take responsibility for your daily mistakes
PAC gave me the vice, told me to apply pressure and see how much you weaklings can take!
Anger formed from danger has me dressed in devils wear prada as I put my "heroes" on a hanger and allow them to see me as a modern day king, walk amongst all these strangers
Hit em with a look only to leave the ordinary shook and read the options in they life like they illustrated a personal book
Then go and send false advice
knowing it wasn't right
You stupid muthafuckers!
Domestication still is untamed and has all the ability too bite!
Hold on for the fight
or throw in the towel!
A Evil Intention Overwhelms U!
I dare ya to pick one of my vowels!!!!
....tell Kendrick I'm a monster
He can take cali
THE WHOLE WORLD IM PREPARED TO CONQUER!
-Dougie Simps
Aug 25, 2013
Aug 25, 2013 at 1:39 AM UTC
Because you are wonder-bread-woman--
bearer of two and a half children,
five feet and four point six inches
of dapper domestication.
soaring, you are at the peak of the bell curve, and when you slip
it's on spilled milk, never cried for.
wistful, you stand on the edge of the bed and reach,
manicure outstretched towards plastic glow in the dark stars
upwards of your eight-foot-walls,
because after all,
ceiling's the limit.
Jul 10, 2013
Jul 10, 2013 at 12:54 AM UTC
*the ones warring on the flag of defeat can't be called either troll or parasite... too noble such entitlements, they are the **** genus worthy of ignorance, that they are found roaring on the flag of defeat, when such publicity is allowed of public musing deeper than soft-spoken in one's own room, as transcript of thought made public, ironically without one's geographic coordinates... and what lack of honour to be warring with such circumstances being allowed.*
i shouldn't have written my words among poets,
too many simplicities surrounded them,
with the poets came made surrogates,
a stillbirth, if nothing more
9 months of **** as the new economics
that gave us appreciative homosexuality,
a curbing of the expeditions of population
we didn't blame on Chinese or Blue Indians
due to having inherited masochistic Christianity,
the last greek mythology, THE, LAST!
and no more from the greek tongue! no more!
then the second feat of the suffragettes
that became the surrogates...
and yet, i stilled braved to sing
for the escapist tongue of
brotherhood that the misty mountain's cold
encapsulated... in which i braved
the brotherhood, every, second, counter,
to marriage to a woman...
domestication is no adventure! it's no adventure!
there is no fear and sudden death in
domestication... it breeds cattle! readied for
death not ready! *two dungeons deep and caverns old...
the pines were roaring on the hight!
the winds were mourning in the night...
the fire was red it flamed and spread,
the trees like torches, blazed with light.*
this... this is my ideal afterlife! take your Koran
and terrorism and take a **** in the desert with
the cats for worth of knowing such "exquisiteness"
as it might be worth mining in the dunes of sand!
while the thirst of metalloid and abstract horse-tow
gives your false timing...
and when you take this anger written on the flag
of defeat, and turn to warring with it on your own
flag of defeat... you will be conquered,
slain and tortured, as is my promise, always
honourable.
May 12, 2016
May 12, 2016 at 7:36 PM UTC
Lock your children in pens,
Like the dogs we've bred,
Domestication depends,
on how youre fed.
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 2:38 PM UTC
Inside my house atop a dresser is my goldfish
Destined to live his life in a small bowl
That bowl is his whole world
I suppose that bowl is all he knows
I wonder if he wonders what’s outside of that bowl
Or maybe he does not care
Inside my house off in the corner is my bird
Locked away eating seed all day
She has wings but they’re of no use to her
Because that bird cage is all she will know
I wonder if she wonders what the sky is like
Or maybe she does not care
Outside my house lives a feral cat
She is referred to as everyone’s cat
She bears kittens every few months
She has the freedom to go where she pleases
I wonder if she wonders what domestication is like
Or maybe she does not care
Outside my house is a coyote
He howls all through the night
He eats my trash till his stomach might burst
He has no regard for property lines
I wonder if he wonders what a home is like
Or maybe he does not care
Inside my house, outside my house
I have legs to take me anywhere
I have freedom to go where I please
I could walk the earth a thousand times
But I will stay inside my room
Because I do not care
Sep 26, 2018
Sep 26, 2018 at 2:38 AM UTC
Cradled by the rock floating round the fire,
nursing the infantile species into god-fearing beings.
evolved from millions of years of careful formulation
discovery of galaxies
exploration of the depths of the sea
and all the fury of nature
scaling mountains and glaciers
drinking from the freshwater spring
trickling down summer's neck.
the domestication of the wild
the birth of nations
and the love of a brother.
We have lived and we have died
here on our Earth.
Must we believe in all our passion
and our funeral ceremonies
to pay respect to the dead,
must we accept the idea
that in all our glory as mankind,
our lives became so insignificant
to others and to the solar system beyond our sunny skies
that life means
nothing?
Have we evolved into the most
complex beings
in known existence
and have we loved with the marrow of our bones
and the iron in our blood
only to die
having never stepped beyond the pavement
to peek at the roses beyond
the garden fence?
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 10:55 PM UTC
Our very souls are beaten into cages
of domestication
With ****** Fists
of Business Men.
Our freedom,
a squirming, squealing mouse
in claws-
fighting to escape
its captivity.
But like the caged rabbit,
hurling its self at steal bars-
steal bars don’t bend easy
it takes big hands,
business hands on high hills
but “if you want to be like the man on the hill,
you have to learn to smile as you ****
But the rabbit and the mouse,
beating and screaming,
against bars and claws
were created weaker than the capture-
And the cage keeps becoming
stronger, with diamonds.
And the bars shrink into the background.
Claws covered in silken honey.
But deranged rabbits hurl themselves
and bleeding mice struggle to beat
the order of things
and the cats nibble jaws squeal
shut.
And little children scream
to know the cruelty of reality.
Dec 16, 2013
Dec 16, 2013 at 7:39 PM UTC
when women speak of eternity, my masculine immortality says: do i have to?! why? because my masculine mortality didn’t.
that a prophet’s nation is not without honour, but among the nation’s
ownership of itself in what’s being compared as nation-defining,
and thus dishonour with a nation’s history claiming more than
the nation’s honour in terms of taught examples lost
in emotion guaranteed by pride and jealousy,
so telling the history of poland
via the polish-lithuanian commonwealth
as defining poles...
nest well in a foreign tongue in order to keep your mother’s,
should your father’s execution of foreign tounging disgrace your mother...
but no talk of honour... should a nation’s honour be
defaced to localise individualism...
thus localise individualism and deface to entrust such a nation
with the concept of globalisation that f. d. r. could have oppossed
in the riddle of isolationalism that ended the great depression
and the phobia of the last years of misguided capitalism
carving the futurism of domestication of anything but the sexually adequate:
consciously-careful animalism of grunt and snorkle and bitten snouts
of the animalism correcting the 90 angle into 3.2 children multiplier
as perfected village people: 4kg of potato, 3 children, 2 pints of milk...
34 sundays kneeling in a church in aid of worship to dogmatise the pyramidal prism
as an aversion to staircases nonetheless climbed
to echo arthritis oiled for the perfected propaganda caste.
Nov 27, 2015
Nov 27, 2015 at 9:54 PM UTC
In animal death, a breath of relief
Tunnelling through the airways for one last
Sigh of non-defeat, of exaltation and release
Not to be, or better, to be free of mortality
Made immortal with passing life
Taking strife by the neck and repeating
I am no longer your victim
In animal death, a universal strength
Where no obstacles lay before happiness
And instincts are not policed
Your fanciful dreams of green treats, fulfilled
And failing kidneys can rot as they please
Please, shed only a handful of tears
On the graves of decomposing beasts
Released from the shackle of domestication,
For the ones that suffer are surely the living.
Feb 11, 2017
Feb 11, 2017 at 12:33 AM UTC
My cat's name is Zachary Binx, and I know for a fact he could kick my *** in a fight. His claws are daggers. They are needle sharp and feather light and designed to ensnare and then shred anything his long, quick arms can ****** He is fast; he is a predator.
But he has no idea, because his environment suggests otherwise. He's artificially coerced by domestication to assume that his survival is dependent on me. He is designed to survive on his own, but his cage suggests otherwise.
So he contents himself to the role of the housecat, sitting on the windowsill, feeling dull pangs of inexplicable deja vu as he watches the sparrows bathe in the dirt outside.
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 8:34 PM UTC
We cut through frigid air,
We are ice picks;
We are pointed each way we turn,
Figure skaters,
Dancing on the sidewalks,
I trip.
Metamorphasised a triple salcow,
Ten points.
The transfiguration of mistakes into works of art.
What it all comes down to at the end,
The delicate task of placing the mask on any symbol of effort.
Hyperaware of the absence of originality,
Overfed and undersexed;
A bleak outlook.
Willful domestication
Willful enslavement.
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 11:49 PM UTC
Sometimes, I feel like
a cat out in the rain.
A big black and white Tom just
trotted by.
Ears back, trying to avoid
the puddles.
Is he angry at the
world; maybe a little sad too?
Was he led away from
his domestication by
his drive and desires,
only to return to
a locked door and
no more love?
Or was he born on
the streets-never held?
Were the elements always all
he ever knew?
It's a dog-eat-dog world,
**** or be killed, and this
old boy is still alive.
I don't have the
answer to this feline's
follies,
but I do know this,
sometimes,
I feel like a
cat out in the rain.
Jan 29, 2021
Jan 29, 2021 at 7:01 AM UTC
I would rather be stuck
Between a rock and a hard place
Than the rim of a volcano
And the edge of your cliff
Your hot breath foretold a story
On my neck, it jump started my bones
But now, it burns
And suffocates me relentlessly
I've filled myself with your hatred
And stored you beneath my fingernails
In anger, and in love
Either way, I consider them *****
I have shared with you
My darkest shadows
My brightest eyes
And you reaffirmed my beliefs
That neither have a meaning
If your foot isn't pressing down on them
Like an informal baptism
It is clear what this is
It is the domestication
Of a wolf, to a dog
From a dog
Aug 19, 2016
Aug 19, 2016 at 10:50 AM UTC
Pine wafting through the
open layout of our house.
A million needles
waiting to be
swept up or
hidden under the rug.
The curious cat circles the tree
both meant to be wild,
but now domesticated
for the joy of human kind.
Why are we so selfish?
Nov 27, 2021
Nov 27, 2021 at 5:16 PM UTC
I am almost twenty years old
And I'm still trying to figure out my life
Still trying to figure out what I want to become
Trying to figure out what I want to do for a living
Still trying to find a girl worth dating
Not saying that I've never found one
I had a girl, a few actually
but I ****** all those up looking for something different
Now that is biting me in the ***
With the mind games you play
You say that you miss me, that you still love me but then I find out that you found others to fill the void that I left in your chest when I left
You drag me back in with those comments
Then other comments push me away and **** me off
I'm almost twenty years old and I'm still trying to make something out of nothing
All I want is to become something
Not sure what that something is or when that something will become
I heard a much smarter man than myself say that some cats say somethings better than nothing
The only problem is that those cats are content with living in the alleys and searching for scraps, I have the ambition to upgrade from an ally cat to a house pet
To be a house-held name
So let my voice be listened to and start the domestication, lets go somewhere together to make our lives better
Stop scrounging garbage bags and begin having someone feed us
My life wont be gratifying enough for myself until I not only become something, but become something big
So take some advice from these words and lets all begin to give up the **** life we have settled for and go out to make a name for ourselves
I say this because our life will end, but instead of fading into nothing I want my name to be remembered for a long time after I am gone
Jan 21, 2011
Jan 21, 2011 at 11:01 AM UTC
My landlord gave
me two black kittens.
Little ***** of fluff.
I sent pictures to
my sister.
She said they have
eye infections, and not
to use hydrogen peroxide,
because it will blind them.
The thought never crossed
my mind. I thanked her.
They are semi-feral,
but they are warming right
up to domestication.
I was like that too.
I enjoy my simple life now.
Fishing and writing, I take
vitamins and clean cat ****
off my bed.
We are working on the
concept of the litter box.
I play classical music for them.
They like Vivaldi, but prefer
Mozart, D minor seems
their favorite key.
I don't know if they are
male or female, all I
see is a little pink dot, and
they aren't real fond of
me looking.
Bukowski for a male
and Emily for a female.
If they are both males
or both females, I don't
know what the hell I
will call them.
The bigger of the two is
sleeping next to me while
I write this.
I'll be a son of a *****
he's smiling, or she,
while sixteenth notes rip
through the burnt
umber autumn morning.
Nov 13, 2023
Nov 13, 2023 at 10:40 AM UTC
Forging in mind’s eye the assumption of reliable consumption of reality. Where the nativity of creativity begins condensation while receiving condemnation en masse. A shitstorm rages now, a widowmaker of incomprehensible complications to the causality of casualties of class. Discouraging color, forcing the implication of domestication of thought, wearing casual ties and carrying a briefcase, all for hope of a brief taste of success in excess. Do not assume that I can be reduced to my résumé.
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 7:24 PM UTC
a developed country is not a place where the poor have cars. it’s where the rich use public transport - paraphrased from enrique penalosa
it's also a place where the rich buy a beer bavaria
and a beer san migeul (bottled) at less than
the asked price of sigma £2.25
and the man buying the beers feels rich because
of the lax pax, on the slack - is where
even a poor man can feed the feeling of wealth,
the cashier accepted his spare change
of £2.19 and the man was left fed
with a nonchalence worth feeding akin to travel
among the sardines of sweat to his abode of mammon feeding.
so enthroned upon a saddle of a horse
as to garrison politicians into
being in game worth merely as pawns;
there too the peacock and swan shed
their wings to attract the ladies less
for the cuneiform quill with fingerprin than
simply for admiration and a vanity cleopatra
staged against augustus' cold shrug of shoulder
in armour worthy of any man ably imitating;
then i the one barren in choir to
the year one prior, uno pre anno domini;
i too took to trust via a hunting dog's eye
the dog tamed and affiliated with being made
familiar with a homesickness of the woods among the boar;
i took domestication in his step:
be fed, sleep, entertain... entertain, sleep, be fed...
what a horrid existence being so abhorred from the original
escapade, in the river of nerves strained to impulse
a quasi-tsunami to breach the shore and become
a gargantuan hunger to eat the geography into a mapping
of a rewrite.
Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 9:45 PM UTC
They don't care
We're just a thing they stare
Big curves, no brains
They think we're all the same
What we think, what we believe
They will never care to see
Our names are simplified to babe
Our beauty becomes our face
Our ideas go to waste
Our work gets shut away
In our homes, no way to claim
The wages we deserve
Because we are just a thing
To tame
Until time continues to change
Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 11:04 PM UTC
i dream of domestication
while being nailed to the picket fence of perfection.
six figures;
i hold his hand in my right.
my reflection in the mirror is split in two
because i threw stones and ruined your view.
in my left, her hand is warm,
and we're making less than the man twenty stories up.
i've been kicked to the bottom,
but she tastes so sweet.
you see, it's bitter;
i'm two halves
and they're begging me to be whole.
call it what you want, but i'll hold them both.
Oct 30, 2018
Oct 30, 2018 at 3:01 PM UTC
at first liberty
was ability and will
to leave the ethnicity English
oppression thereof
then liberty
became the constant justification
to **** women and children
for their land and ***
liberty became the realization
the natives they had killed
were the only ones who knew
how to cultivate the land
for food
so the settlers of whiteness
then took liberty
to dig up and eat the old native bodies
to eat them
the liberty to decay faster
then it became the desperation
to keep slaves
even though
the beginning of whiteness
its presidents
knew that blackness was more human
than themselves
took the liberty to keep humans enslaved
even though the rest of the world outlawed it
the liberty to keep slavery
as the domestication of whiteness
slavery built whiteness
liberty reinforcing
**** to breed
liberty became the uniform punishment
for free slaves
liberty to follow successful black men
making new laws to re-enslave blackness
stalkers of whiteness
like J Edgar Hoover
************ in parked vehicles
liberty of white authority
to fog up parked car windows
desperate to see black men in white women
liberty became micegeny laws
liberty was once longed for
by enslaved humans
then it was surpassed
by the order of slave women
“stop letting white men and women **** us!”
liberty faded in the quiet of freedom
humanity has a secret constitution
liberty will never understand
as a foundation of civil war
to justify the dissociative disorder of whiteness
and the trauma it causes
Feb 1, 2017
Feb 1, 2017 at 9:57 PM UTC