"euthanasia" poems
Bruce,
The first American
To commit euthanasia
In the media,
And later,
Be interviewed.
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 10:06 AM UTC
A sandpaper tongue
Brushed across my skin
One last time.
That alone was worth
The 850 dollars it cost
To say goodbye.
Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 3:18 AM UTC
Thinking of days past,
Quietly, he turns a page.
The ocean beckons.
Jan 17, 2013
Jan 17, 2013 at 2:46 PM UTC
Drink the stars.
Consume them and let them course through your bloodcurrent,
Carrying the fluorescence to your furthest capillaries.
You will see glowing veins scintillate beneath your skin,
As if a thousand cracks are forming on your body--
Allowing the pureness and beauty of your bright soul
To escape its host.
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 11:36 PM UTC
The air was very frigid,
Early eve on a very cold night.
As I sat in the drivers' seat,
Waiting at a very long light.
And I heard a tap on the window,
Looked over and saw him there,
He was wearing broken glasses,
And had not combed his hair.
And I rolled it down just slightly,
And he said...do you mind If I stand?
Close to your car to feel its warmth,
And he had a few dollars in his hand.
Then he began to tell me about,
The local shelter where he did stay.
And how he worked day labor,
And of the church where he did pray.
He continued on to tell me that,
The shelter was not free,
And he needed 32 dollars,
To pay enough for his family.
He gave me the telephone number,
To the shelter and then his name,
But I never called, just gave him cash,
And I'm the only one to blame.
That later on that very night,
The man who I gave "aid".
Overdosed on crystal-meth,
Of which I'm sure I paid.
Dec 15, 2010
Dec 15, 2010 at 5:56 PM UTC
She’s suffering,
Her eyes have lost that sparkle,
The glimmer of life has sailed away,
Vegetating,
She’s not the girl I once knew,
She wants to go…
…I don’t want her to go…
What can I do?
Aug 28, 2012
Aug 28, 2012 at 6:29 AM UTC
If you want to make a profit
(and the morality is grey)
Dehumanize the victim
and you'll be well on your way.
In a country that's divided,
and declining by the hour.
Your sins will be forgiven
by the Autocrats in power.
As, once upon a time,
in our then divided land
Slavery was acceptable
because a black was not a man.
Then black people were possessions
and very few were free.
They knew the lash, they knew the rod,
They knew not dignity.
Now fetuses are parasites-
not considered human beings
Abortion is big business
the cash cow of their dreams
Fifty million have been murdered
with no end on the horizon.
****** it appears, is acceptable
as long as it's not you dying.)
Someday you'll be old and gray-
and have an awful cough
Please don't be surprised or shocked
if they opt to write you off.
The weak and the disabled,
those feeble minded or not spry
can blame our liberality
when it comes their turn to die.
Eighty years its been since
Adolf ****** rose to power
Little children sang his praises too-
and darkness had it's hour.
Note:Nazi eugenics were **** Germany's racially based social policies that placed the improvement of the Aryan race through eugenics at the center of Nazis ideology. Those humans were targeted who were identified as "life unworthy of life" (German: Lebensunwertes Leben), including but not limited to the criminal, degenerate, dissident, feeble-minded, homosexual, idle, insane, and the weak, for elimination from the chain of heredity. More than 400,000 people were sterilized against their will, while 70,000 were killed under Action T4, a "euthanasia" program.[1][2]
(They will call it choice until the choice is there's alone)
Funny but many will call me a reactionary racist for my position against abortion but there have been millions of black Americans aborted, just as planned parenthood's founder intended.I would not make all abortions illegal as I believe that I shouldn't legislate morality. I think they should be rare, legal and safe.
Jul 1, 2013
Jul 1, 2013 at 9:02 PM UTC
We face death as we know,
Written in facets of stone under our feet,
we have built or own demise
, the weight of ourselves holding
us to that blue undertow,
as we sink into our black euthanasia.
Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 2:04 PM UTC
Over excessive society,
Underdeveloped minds.
Grouped groups, linked
Produced in modes, suffocating
In their consciousness. Fear
Of the self righteous, The many
Determine the one.
Social disorder
Conjured
By a thought, felt by all.
I have seen chivalry beaten and left
For dead, “sleepwalkers” corrupting
Youths, scared to look back, a time of
Deadbeat parents and lost
Souls. I know more than I care to admit.
This world that beckons,
Euthanasia.
Jul 17, 2011
Jul 17, 2011 at 2:00 PM UTC
potion lost by unknown souls
effervescent masturbatory master debater
creationism is masochism told from the horses ***
past blast take my soul
make me whole and complete
separation anxiety is ***** envy
memories of mental memos crash past rushing fools
used and abused on cruise control
I misjudged your guided thistle
because missiles are meant for drones not home-oh
listen to the seedless man cry for his dead *****
tediously miserable always unforgiven
what lies hidden within the door
could be a deserted desert dessert
like an after dinner breath mint
or a succinct lunatic on the brink of such destruction
may be distraction fight or flight action reaction
marilyn charles though more bronson than you
Aren’t thou marked for death
broken gasp choked sob
undergod slaughtered in an abandoned euthanasia clinic
euphimistic innuendo more like in your endo
indoor marijuana smoke makes the colors run
my american flag has flown and fled
please jesus save our country bumpkins
napkins go in the lap not as hat
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 3:49 PM UTC
The time in which we gathered together,
Lost in our arms and eyes,
Correctly begins with "Once upon a time..."
And does now beguile my sunrise.
-
A wasteland is wont for many explorers,
In its greed though, it keeps them forever,
But the paradise I found with you
Would light my every endeavor.
-
Were each freckle a map of stars upon,
The shining blue sky this morn,
They"d allow me to navigate your sea of soft skin,
And mend a heart, forlorn.
-
An anchor that kept my vessel afloat
While Poseidon's depression near' took me with him,
I held the key to your heart, fabled Atlantis,
In love as I could ever have been, by an Angel, smitten.
-
The tender kashmir lips,
That promised and fulfilled me to sleep,
Have dispersed long ago,
And have tempted me to weep.
-
Complex reflections of my own inner self,
Revealed the catastrophe in full,
Though you had my heart for yourself,
I couldn't find where it leisurely lulled.
-
Young and daft, I took my own risks,
Risks that transformed into sorrow,
Shielded at last, that upon my cask'
Shall be writ' "perhaps joy comes on the morrow"
-
The serene, subcontious Siren
Knows not even of her own beauty,
With eyes that could stop time and planes
Of space, she can, so truly.
-
I beg to be rid of the memories,
I ask for constant euthanasia,
I consume to forget entirely
And regret my own mistakes here.
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 3:39 AM UTC
When I die, just let my body rot.
So every gust of air on the summer-tide
will hoist me to your presence, bit by bit,
— until with every breath, you’ll memorize me.
When the first light looms without me on your bed,
read my letters out loud…in an over-romantic voice,
— for those words I’ve written will whisper my promises,
and you’ll never hear yourself laughing...again.
But when my heart does not cease from beating,
or if the golden gates of heaven shut before me,
— do not rejoice.
For I will **** myself yet again (even for a thousand times),
just for you to know my worth.
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 12:30 AM UTC
Neon Stella Artois lights and sly hellos
It commenced as we were flew spinning
Ticket stubs and ink -stains
Oh, as our love flirted we both were seeking
Brooklyn Subway stops and ***** clothes
We perched by the equator but only when beginning
Backwards flasks and *******
Then winter solstice was challenged by spring’s springing
Strands of soft pearls and wishing wells
We shivered the anxious touch of a faux July summer’s evening
Empty bar stools and firelight
It was still bitterly February but with the mockery of songbirds floating
Two Thirty Seven A.M. and sea shells
How can the world deceive us in this fashion: fools, we accept ever-knowing
Buttered bread and hindsight
Dawn will crash with frostbite and these daisies will pay the price of their beauty’s sinning
Wine before noon and payphone bills
Wind will eviscerate this moment for once you have touched the sun the ice is more than suffocating
Dry heaving and ribbons
We were only waiting then at the heart of a train station for the stretches of shadows to lengthen
First drags of cigarettes and blue diet pills
The glitter within the dew drops stolen from our tired eyes when our first summer was stolen
Cheap motels and kitchens
We could barely exchange syllables, our melodies quarreling, our blood had thinned
Calendar pages and black lace *******
The euthanasia of the spring would have hung us too if we had breathed it in
The Last calls and lollipops
One can repose more gently in the absence of color than in the theft of sin
Bitten manicured hands and autumn leaves
We used to sleep in a room with wonders, windows, and blankets within
Midnight whispers and rooftops
It was the only place that could soften the swords in all this ruin
****** wrappers and painting supplies
Today is cruel, it cannot be summer if the world doesn’t spin
Happy hour cocktails and goodbyes
Jan 26, 2013
Jan 26, 2013 at 2:16 PM UTC
Gloria, latex snap. Opaque lipstick.
I should press holiday stamps
over those big blue eyes of yours.
Misspelled spoken word, whole hunting
from malignant orange ,
crosshairs and et cetera.
*** on me - stellar hardwood floor ;
the last unicorn was a battered woman
with certain dysmorphic symptoms.
My boyfriend thinks it's **** when
i read the dsm v the way i eat jello shots.
Still, I don't **** him how I would the
surrealish ***** in a polyester uniform.
He knows there's been a cowboy in a parka on the corner for days
politely asking about the three legged race. I have no answers for him
or his handsome eagle co-defendant.
I really think
I'll marry my best friend for her
enameled heart and health insurance.
I took my multivitamin , tapping out
morse on old formica ,
while telling my dead dog im sorry for
letting them **** him.
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 10:06 AM UTC
*My acute dementia
Seems to precipitate the need for immediate euthanasia
A hurried departure
Through the aperture
Deep set in the hollowness of time
Because essentially life’s been a lackluster mime
Imbibing flawlessly flawed ideas
That inform my capricious
Nature to various stimuli
It’s a life story based on a true lie
Frivolities interspersed with grave concerns
The myriad adjourns
Futile attempts at mitigating
A self-imposed galling.*
Oct 10, 2013
Oct 10, 2013 at 5:06 AM UTC
In the land of doom born, and
Sin the minds give no warn, and
Spin the beds with force to spawn
Blew the winds
I was lost, I was lost
Flew my reasons
I was frost, I was frost
Threw my conscious
I am a ghost, I am a ghost
Molten pain in my crust, and
Swollen torment in my throat, and
Forgotten elixirs away to float
Suffer I did
I was waste, I was waste
Laughter lost
In haste, in haste
Proper ways
All replaced, all replaced
Give my soul one last breath, and
Forgive my sadness my wish of death, and
Deceive to put me out of breath
Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 2:54 PM UTC
The wheel spins slowly to a stop
traffic screeches to a halt
the aslant to this crime
is now far away, speeding across town
Another monday hit and run
another angel of death on wheels
this weekly occurrence
in this city of steel
Euthanasia is banned here
yet the maniacs on four wheels
want to finish what they started
they want to finish you and me
So they drive with headlights flashing
their horns blaring liken to speed demons
dive friend if you can, out of the way
for they pay tax for these road ways
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 8:03 AM UTC
Brevity is suited for the ******
Elocution can be twisted into a knot,
and used for courtly euthanasia.
Brevity is best used for condemnation.
Concordantly, circumlocution is perfect for the panegyrics,
of that same party.
So if your the ****** or damning keep it brief;
no one wants to hear a fool trip over his words,
or a liar sing praise of his foe.
Aug 21, 2013
Aug 21, 2013 at 2:06 PM UTC
False memories and track marks pave your arms
Sudden revolt of youth pressurised to fail
Painkillers doubled and stacked for a head to slumber
Soft heads and dead leg spasm attack pillow piddles in *****
Fictitious tesla coil blue breath mortifys mortality
And your goggles won't fog out the underwater current miscellaneous
Digital tectonic pushing ideas you brainstorm
Shadowed reluctance to consume the musk of infrared roses
This romance is one that was jealous of itself
Pre-divorced in its own certainty on incompatibility
Basin top full too top heavy to predict precarious
Living in a shaded sense of erased memory lapses continuing truth
Toward magnificent still life categorised by perdition
Forward thinking ruby gold phong shaded hatred quantum conversate Unthinkable
Nebula of gas
Face first head in hands
Euthanasia between my thighs crush my head
Choked neck
Throat
Strangle me and give me breath
I roll and the conductor pulls apart my mouth
Diseased by euphoria lips separate and teeth show
Pupils land home and iris jumps ship
Perfume gum dry bitter butterfly kiss
Head held back in place tongue falls back into the razor-front of the mouth
Caution held simultaneous irrelevant body load carries my smile
Jump knee deep into the silence of my own lungs
It's been a while
I breath vindictively in time with the respiration of the country
Somewhere out in the hexagon sun I burn candles and whisp
Hold in smoke
Die
Twitch forward in palliative peace motionless and still
Cuspids and lochs
Spread across the grass the harmony touches yours and mine
A hole and whole dream
Conscious and dead
Content
Voices rattle in unified mono-chromidity
Sadness
Carrion
Mar 16, 2014
Mar 16, 2014 at 2:52 PM UTC
euphoria to euthanasia
without the decency
of buying me dinner.
Feb 4, 2013
Feb 4, 2013 at 12:29 PM UTC
brrEXIT
by Michael R. Burch
what would u give
to simply not exist—
for a painless exit?
he asked himself, uncertain.
then from behind
the hospital room curtain
a patient screamed—
"my life!"
Originally published by Setu. Keywords/Tags: brexit, death, exit, suicide, euthanasia, quick, painless, hospital, patient, hospice, final, curtain, existence, nonexistence
Mar 30, 2020
Mar 30, 2020 at 11:53 PM UTC
Year after year
--at daylight savings--
he kept moving his clock backward,
but never forward,
until he wound-up in the wrong century.
He then slept in masks,
his dreams repeatedly
disbanding and reforming,
as if in someone else's show,
but it was his hallucinating set-list, for sure.
He lived at the call of the void,
feeding off peppermint sticks
and clusters of chokeberry,
to help ease the pressure.
One phantom summer,
he read The Joy of Euthanasia
from cover-to-cover, over and over,
until he could recite death.
He poured his heart
into his new work
as an artist of tacenda,
--yes, he kept a lid on it.
And when the pretty young bees
buzzed about underneath
their brazen parasols,
he'd smile up at the sun
for her complicit glow:
the warmest days
always drew them out to him,
like honey on the tongue.
Now naysayers may keep
him out of Canton,
but one day, like most serial killers,
they will name a school after him
and his hijinks.
Nov 6, 2019
Nov 6, 2019 at 2:21 PM UTC
~
*Time is a dark feeling
—the spell of a vanishing loveliness;
in the present mist
the imperatives in the wind
move less and less.
Haul away the anchor,
this is not a safe place.
Between insufficient coasts
—a land of look behind—
science is dead,
pessimism in the remaining oar,
and flies in the eyes of the Queen.
Their graves decorate the spine
on the east bank
they call Euthanasia,
each crucifix made of plasticine.
There's a discursive quality to the sea,
I can see the pearl fishermen,
the empty dancehall,
victims of latitude and eclipse.
I can see the tattered sleeves
of Edmund Fitzgerald and the pockets
of emptiness inside,
hoping to quell the hunger
of the cruelest month.
I can see an underwater country,
colonized by the unborn children
of pregnant African women
thrown off of slave ships
during the Middle Passage.
I can see myself sinking;
farewell my sorrow,
keeping precarious time
against a backdrop
of silence less and less;
its final sound being
that of seagulls
flying away into the distance
—a force of nature that’s
both solemn and inspirational
in equal parts.*
~
Dec 31, 2023
Dec 31, 2023 at 8:06 AM UTC