"expunge" poems
In a time,
when men were the superheroes,
born in an unconventional location,
a young girl, unknown to the future
she was destined to,
was born with a uniqueness
unfound in all people, a superpower
of empathy
and as she grew,
the world knew
she was imbued
as a living embodiment of legends:
Athena's wisdom,
beauty that surpassed the goddess Aphrodite,
conversational skills that made Hermes envious,
and strength that Hercules
could never attain.
As she approached an age, when her parents would
trust her to be guardian,
her powers manifested.
This incredible child was now a woman.
With the ability to heal those in need: she could expunge
poison that had afflicted a person,
even their hearts,
a God-given gift for those most sacred;
her correspondences exponentially developed,
able to connect in all languages, fueled by her empathetic nature,
this allowed all who interacted with her to trust her for she radiates sincerity.
Now, fully grown, this super-no-
This Wonder Woman had retired her duties
to save the world, not forsake it, but,
to train Wonder Girl, her daughter,
to unlock the latent abilities her mother had passed on to her.
She still looks up at the Higher Power
and realizes her duty to provide
the world justice is not over
but only beginning.
Her holy spirit was not unacknowledged
and was gifted
a bulletproof bracelet,
forged by the most skilled craftsman by direction
of all that is wise and healing.
Given to her to wear
so that nothing could halt her
as she continues
her fate to provide the world a humanity
that could only come from
an intrinsically true
dear heart.
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 12:17 AM UTC
I need to cleanse it, free myself
Of this burden tainted upon
My being. Cinders are drenched on
Flesh
Spirit
Expunge
That which writhes is not burnt away,
So I must eradicate its stench
It violates upon my being
I unburden the pressures so released,
Pyroclastic flows breath exfoliation on my
Soul,
Pealed,
Freed
Of that stench scorched into oblivion
I relish in the torment of those below
Freshly parched earth as lungs burn breath,
"Fallen misery descends in singed flesh"
I release the Feathers weighted down
Haemorrhaging as crimson flows to the
Stems, expanding into the beauty
Of death, I am
Released,
Liberated,
Redeemed
Upon the fallen as I step upon ash
"Bones, death, rebirth"
As no longer afflicted,
I am once again blanched as purest darkness
Is Neither black or grey
"But lucid white"
"As purity is only clean"
"I am purity of darkness"
And the taints of humanity are flakes upon
Silent statues upon the ground, I am malevolent incarnate..
Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 5:15 PM UTC
Brothers,
let us stand together.
Sisters,
you can stay sitting.
Let us stand
united
by our inability
to stay out in the sun
too long.
In fact,
would someone mind
erecting a gazebo
for us to stand united
underneath?
Thank you.
Brothers,
having proven
that we cannot demonstrate
our superiority
through sport,
rhetoric,
mathematics,
music,
drama,
art,
science,
business acumen
or military might
Let us instead
prove it beyond all doubt
by gathering in groups
and chanting slogans.
Flags are good, too.
Dagnab it,
just look at the way
we can wave those flags.
If that
doesn't qualify us
as the Master Race,
then I don't know what will.
And thus anointed,
let us expunge the world
of miscegenation.
Let us cleanse public radio
of anything other
than Bavarian folk music.
Let us revel
in boiled beef
and wheat-based foods.
Let us return
the mineral wealth of the world
to the tarnished, coloured nations
from whence it came.
Let us reject
foreign mythologies
apart from that one
about Jesus
obviously.
Let us all return
to the country, town,
street
and house
of our birth.
History is with us, brothers.
If there's one thing
it teaches us
it's that nothing should ever change
and empires
never fall.
Sieg heil!
Nov 22, 2016
Nov 22, 2016 at 8:22 AM UTC
How many times I lay
On that old couch
Just through the doorway
Where she shuffled from the table to the stove
Bringing food to dad,
In for supper late,
Or moving dishes to the sink
While I rested from the day,
Just lying there,
Unaware of conversations
I was soaking in.
"I should have sold the winter wheat
A week ago.
No telling how far down the price will go
Now that Russia's stopped our sales."
"Pizza, two for seven dollars again;
Apples three pounds for a dollar;
Bread for seventy-nine."
Or heard his offhand orders for next morning:
"Fencing's got to be done at Henry's.
Boys! I need one of you to check the pastures.
Take some salt and mineral along!"
Mother seldom spoke, or if she did,
She gave correction,
Reported pizza inventories, or bread.
Asked clarifying questions,
But always the creaking oven door
Or the running of rinsing water.
I awoke this morning at three,
Almost a year after my fathers death
From a restless dream of lying there.
Heard my mother's sounds,
My father's voice,
Life as once it was,
Mundane and wonderful
From the couch around the corner of the door:
A living memory
I would no more expunge
Than to remove my own name.
In a dream state,
Attentive now to sounds
Grown too late significant,
Too late sweet,
Almost too painful now,
I lay,
Half aware or half awake...
Thankful to live a memory so real,
Unaware I was transfixed
Inside a memory
Moving lightning speed
Through dreams....
As he was readying to leave,
Perhaps to go down to do one last chore,
I heard my father's footstep at the door.
"Dad, I wanted you to know
I love you very much!"
I spoke the words,
Loudly, so he heard.
I heard him clear his throat,
Say something about getting back to work.
And I awoke, a full day's drive away
From that old couch,
Itself five miles up the hill
From the buried urn where his cold ashes lie.
Jan 18, 2013
Jan 18, 2013 at 6:27 AM UTC
***All the heartfelt words
Are struck across with a line
Dividing each word’s meaning
Halved feelings of dilemma
The line created a divide
That was not meant to be
Either, stay in this situation
Or expunge them forever
Express your feelings
With new words***
Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 11:11 AM UTC
You can love me or loathe me,
Agree or disagree,
But you can never erase me.
I drive you,
Rein you in or rip you apart,
I encroach your mind with my conniving hands,
Yet you haven't the strength to expunge me.
However you might shut me out or restrain me
But in the end you succumb and I win.
I give you the hope to live,
The backbone to prop yourself up in despairing times,
The happiness to rejoice.
Call me friend or fiend,
Your fort or your facade,
Nonetheless I'm your past,
Will be your future and I'm here right now...
I'm undeniably your conscience
Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 5:52 AM UTC
His garb was not spectacular,his shoes were grey and worn;
his hair was longer than a mere crewcut.
His nails were very *****
his veins were free of needles-
and his face shone bright red
in the misty sunlight.
He greeted the sky with a wail of delight,
and the hearts of passers began to throb.
Summer and autumn were remarried in an embrace of generous hope,
throbbing airwaves,tapping feet,delighted smiles.
And then along came a citizen,politically correct;
oh so relevant,barely tolerant ,emancipator.
With a fuzz of of ***** gray
a salloween expressive nosegay-
A mission to expunge the infiltrator!
He was busy with his flute;
he could not practise,he said
"I only live two hundred yards away.
You must cease and leave this place
you do not fit here in this race-
ABANDON this ridiculous idea!"
So,the stopwatch was set;
the 'half hour rule' began to reign:
And the police turned up
after merely twenty minutes!
Nelson's watch saved the day
"take another twenty"They did say
and our liberator slunk away
unfairly treated.
Though earth on heel and
sky on neck:Lovers'
authentic myth
outshining heaven:
a piper
on a bridge
unsheathed
across
the Ij
A klted
magpie.
unswathed
the lay
fairly
greeted
Sep 27, 2010
Sep 27, 2010 at 7:55 AM UTC
I can't sleep. I don't want to sleep. I don't know which it is but it's happening, now and infinitesimally forever my eyes are open and not shutting down for the day, not recharging, not doing anything but waiting for something to see and perceive and solve, a problem to appear before them and present itself begging to be taken in and toyed with like a Rubik's cube. I don't want to sleep because sleep is giving up on the day, it's saying the day is over and it's giving up the chance to accomplish the innumerable tasks yet to be accomplished before I sleep that I haven't done and won't do if I sleep now, if I lie down in that bed and pull covers over my head and let myself drift away. I don't want to drift away, can't let it happen, can't let go of control over really the only thing I have left to control which is when and if I go to sleep so I don't, I force myself not to, I expunge the records of thought from my head into a text box and hope that the soft rattling that had droned there softens because now after all of this my eyelids get heavy and I may have to let sleep win, give up the day, defeated, fight again tomorrow because I'm tired. I'm tired. I'm tired of fighting, fighting against the minute tedium tripping along, fighting against transcendental ecclesiastical endlessness, tired of fighting when all I do is get bloodied and bruised, tired of fighting when I can't win because I'm tired. Rest now. Fight again tomorrow.
Feb 4, 2014
Feb 4, 2014 at 1:44 AM UTC
With baptism, one identifies with The Christ,
mirroring His death, burial and resurrection;
in this symbolic gesture of Faith, one sees a
formal acknowledgment of His gift of Salvation.
This practice, instituted by John the Baptist,
teaches one to reflect on the sacred sacrifice-
that Christ -alone- redeemed all of Humanity
and that His unequaled actions will suffice
as the second Adam, for our enduring redemption.
Even Christ Himself, took this symbolic plunge.
Was this a mere watery dunking of His flesh?
Or did it prepare Him… to be able to expunge
the death penalty of sin for us permanently?
Therefore, I honor His act of propitiation-
by the baptism of my body before witnesses,
as I’m initiated today… into His Holy Nation.
.
.
.
Author Notes
Inspired by:
John 3:25-36
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2015, All rights reserved.
Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 11:43 AM UTC
Dylan got it first, as he often did,
That American youth were ignorant kids,
Betrayed by the things our parents hid.
And we were insulted just a little bit
But we listened and took the plunge,
Determined to expunge
The poison and let out the Id.
It was up to us not heed the call up
And as one voice we stood up,
Saying, shouting NO!
Twenty or so legendary years for some;
While others sold out, we beat the drum.
Our peers oddly died around us but….
Even as we ‘felt those cold hands’ touch our skin,
As The Capitalists were closing in—
& Some of them were us…
We sounded the drum.
Later on some hippie-punks or is it the other way(?)
Sang about extraordinary girls & then took a fall.
Sometimes begged for Novocain
Which wouldn’t relieve psychic pain,
Like being Ramonely sedated in a concert hall.
Nobody knew what to do with them.
Except to give them fame.
(It was just as bad for them as for the Clash)…
Hell, they almost invented the mash-up.
And too many anti-hippie punks
Loaded on cheap ****** or always drunk,
Claimed all those heroes had sold out.
But Ziggy would’ve known Ash from Ash.
Then came their Blood on the Tracks;
They finally saw what Dylan saw,
Or, if they saw it before,
They got some Real Emotion back.
Nothing has changed and everything has changed,
Said The Heathen…and he should know.
But how do we see, stuck here ‘so far below’,
Not remotely in the know;
They might be on an intergalactic trip
Or as in “A.I”, nothing more than a binary blip?
But encased in virtual ice, how can we live?
Until the end…and even then…
As John wrote, we only get the love we give.
Jul 14, 2018
Jul 14, 2018 at 1:28 PM UTC
To **** myself or not **** myself, that is the question
I face an existential crisis every day
I want to hurt myself
I want to bleed, to wound myself physically because I can't deal with my mental
The questions and thoughts that plague me every day
I wish I could expunge these idiot things that run through my head
The stupid ******* people that cause me grief every day
Those people are the people I live with
The people I love
The people I work with
Every mother ******* person
I wish I could live isolated
But not alone
Live in my own colony of people that understand me as well as I understand myself
I wish I could operate normally
Not over correct for every ******* small iota of every tiny moment in the ******* day
Why do I have to do everything to such an extent?
Why can't I just be happy?
Why can't I just sleep a peaceful slumber instead of tossing and turning for hours before?
I hate myself
But do I really hate myself?
Or the circumstances that I face?
This life I live is not the life I want
I want freedom
The ocean
The sand to catch these unshed tears
The cold to hit my face
And something warm to embrace
I want ***
But do I want it for the carnal pleasure or for the way it makes me forget for a time these turmoiled emotions I deal with every instant of every ************* ******* day?
I want a partner
But I can't trust
I'm so alone
I'm so alone
I'm so alone
******* I'm alone
How do I fix this?
How do I fix me?
I'm so alone.
No one will ever know the inner core of me.
Someone save me
I wish I were dead.
Someone **** me
I wish I knew real life.
Human essence is the dirt of the earth.
We destroy,
We do not conquer.
We forget,
We all still suffer.
******* us all to the figment of our imagination that is hell.
Every ******* one of us deserves it.
Burn us in a firey pit and then crush our bones to make the cement that holds us all unwillingly together.
******* **** me so I don't have to **** myself.
Nothing makes this feeling go away. No one satiates this gnawing numbness I feel.
I am a black hole that devours every good emotion
Nothing to replace it inside this empty space within me
**** me
**** me
**** me
Sep 22, 2015
Sep 22, 2015 at 2:31 AM UTC
He plays a tune hand calloused and all.
Face against the blue filled with malice
Flashing a florescent blissful green
Changing all so lightly still
Leave him alone, sunset to sunrise
Pondering birth to death.
Crimes of our very own human dignity
Imprisoned, for our clawing entity.
Plays shadows beside this fluttering sail.
A pale veil that will bring us no avail to bail;
Light hearted the human soul is not.
Weight within ignorance and defiance
the mind is consumed by all reflection
bland or complex, life has no attention.
Stained glass windows, black widows
Rainless mornings, and frivolous sermons
Taken to the tortured girth of human doubt.
We are lightless and stationary only to run.
Along the shoreline, faith is not receding
Only seldom visited.
Replaced by the capture and rapture
Of virtually tangible lights;
News no longer plays homage to heart
Rather lies rampaging the feeble apart.
Pessimism parallels reality.
Rendering sin’s originality.
Our causes parallel pauses
Making these changes in duality
Deafening intrinsic viability,
only to expunge identity.
Looking back at the advertisements
Across the widely boarded stilts
Lit to view by admitting at will
Driving forward looking back still
Feb 24, 2010
Feb 24, 2010 at 8:28 AM UTC
I became jealous of my friend;
He hung around the intersections
Just a bit too long.
He used to slump around
In the corners of my eyes
And I didn't notice him when he'd frown--
We didn't notice him--until he hung around
That intersection for longer than we'd care to think.
I became jealous
Because he vanished
Right to that street corner
When he thought
No one would care but the coroner,
Right to the asphalt that received him--
Soft,
As I hoped my own
Last moments
Would be.
When I saw him,
Mama said he was sleeping.
He looked like he was,
But the lights were dim;
His arm cradled his head
The way he used to sleep
On his desk, in class
And for all I knew,
He was.
They said he was driving
Like he was late for something,
Like had he not been driving
Exactly 65.32 miles per hour
He'd have been late,
And it was only afterwards
That he'd figured out that he was
Right on time.
And when he arrived, his car blossomed into
A beautiful metal flower, and when it fully bloomed
He was the fruit
Which fell.
And all I could do was recruit the strength
I'd left at home on accident by the drain
The same one that ****** him into that downward cyclone,
Confused him and made him believe he was alone--
Not to just think or to have a hunch,
But to really believe it
To the point where he needed to expunge
Himself.
No.
No, no, no.
Not like this.
And so, now, I sit at the intersection
Chucking rocks with my weepy hand
At my grayish concrete reflection
Trying to see if he'll come around again.
I'm still
And still kind of mad within
Because life's not fair,
I'm jealous because he found the answer
And left us all to figure it out
On shards of glass
Pieces of metal
and intersections,
Which too long
He hung about.
Dec 11, 2012
Dec 11, 2012 at 12:43 AM UTC
An alien desire takes over
Never felt before
New awareness of existence
When I obliterate the visible
Fortify the mind from distractions
So many structures
Creating an ugly landscape
Obfuscating the horizon
Take control of the imagination
To expunge the unnecessary
Extravagant paraphernalia
Overt exhibition of the trivial
Making a jest of this rich life
Veer away from the mindless journey
Let the alien desire take over
None but you can salvage yourself
From the onslaught of false conformations
Nothing of this will last
Take refuge in the truth of nothingness
Be aware of new existence
In perfect ecstasy and coherence
With the harmonious waves of universe
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 8:26 AM UTC
I've been treading water, trying not to drown
But I'm afraid, I'm finally going down
The waves are coming faster
And of self control I am no master
Should I hold my breath as I plunge
Or breath in the water and quickly this life expunge
I keep my eyes open as I am sinking
But I can't keep from blinking
When a colorful fish swims by
Then turned around and looked me in the eye
What he had to say gave me chills
"Why don't you just grow gills
We all must change and adapt
Or none of us would live through life's crap"
Wise words from a fish's lips
And if I survive, I'll never again eat fish and chips
Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 at 5:41 PM UTC
Imagine Complete Annihilation
Imagine it
First drain the colour from the world
Pour metaphorical bleach on the landscape
The lively green of the foliage
Is now a lethargic grey
The placid blue of the sky an angry black
Each cloud remains unpainted
Next expend the energy
***** its skin with this hypothetical needle
And induce a coma
Watch monochrome bees roll over in bed, unwilling to go to work
Vultures lying down with their dinner; corpse pillows
Sloth is the new God
Then purge the life
Draw your figurative razor across its jugular
Don’t worry, it’s humane: the victim’s already sleeping
And when yours is the only soul still tied down
Burn the pile of non-rotting flesh
(even the saprophytes are gone; death doesn’t revile anymore),
Gnash your teeth and throw yourself atop it
You’re almost done, now expunge your senses
Deaden the sound: halt the airflow through this graveyard
But remember that there is no silence
Dampen the light: pinprick each pixel till it pops
But remember that there is no dark
Cry “Begone!” to the wind and feel no more
But remember that there is no numbness
Cut out your tongue and relax
But remember that there are no memories
Finally call last orders on Time
Find each clock, smash it, don’t worry about the glass
There is no pain anymore
There is finally nothing
Imagine
Now accomplish this horrendous task
In the space & time-frame of a single breath
Learn
That what you godless fools call death
We of faith, however little, call hell
Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 3:56 PM UTC
so, here i sit, having read that semicolons are a ******** tool - im only a partial ******* so, its admissable. in a bar drunk, sass'd, white bitch'd, hot as ever-living hell, hoping for a saxophonist. white ******* off bike lock keys in the bathroom as the door is attempted to be opened; "Sorry, we were ******* splurted, what an excuse; white ***** on a bike lock key - protection from theft, i guess. almost out of tobacco, yet i feel i can sustain, excuse me, remain. "i cant believe you did that, ***** crystal." (not what you think (totally what i think)) ambient psychedelia and a saxophonist (shes been mentioned) wailing, wail, whaling; expunge that Conscious ocean as if you were a Japo. yeah, racial slurs racial slurs. im told its 11.55 post on the 7th, but i am quite aware thats a lie. (most knowledge is (vindication symplified and unerred) unaware of what is being typed anymore) ..
Nov 28, 2012
Nov 28, 2012 at 12:26 PM UTC
soft waves ripple the water,
they come and they go,
sprinkling seeds of fervent hope
gentle waves tickle the sand,
they come and they go,
leaving dreams
of rapture
behind
Boastful waves CRASH into rocks,
they come and they go,
shattering dreams
to s m i t h e r e e n s
frantic waves expunge the sea foam,
they come and they go,
d
r
ow
n
ing
hope
as
it does
silent waves creep back to the sea,
they come and they go,
a cupful of
tears in tow
Jul 28, 2012
Jul 28, 2012 at 12:17 PM UTC
Are bad-habits
actions we do on impulse
without carefully thinking
whether we should do these actions?
Do bad-habits
lead us away from joy and happiness?
Towards unjoy and unhappiness?
Like overeating makes us fat and diabetic?
Liking smoking cigarettes gives us lung cancer?
Like alcoholism wrecks our life?
Should we introspect
to become self-aware of our bad-habits?
Evaluate our bad-habits?
And reform our mind
to expunge bad-habits from our mind?
Jul 30, 2019
Jul 30, 2019 at 4:54 AM UTC
The mind of a child is a sponge,
Soaking up what others expunge.
Some fester with brackish water.
Swollen with poisonous matter.
Others, saturated with bleach,
Expelling contradictions their elders teach.
Youth wrung out, once over again,
Scrubbing away the grime and pain.
Now faint- the writings on the wall.
Rounding out their squared edges and standing tall.
Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 8:37 PM UTC
This test is the most crucial exam by life,
Deciding paths of vileness or virtuousness.
The questionnaire is not always simple,
Unable to form practical comprehension.
Ethics from morality are stunned by emotions,
Summiting answers based on raw wickedness.
Rubber is given to repair the flaws of humanity,
Intended to rectify the mistakes of imperfections.
Righteous answers leads to a higher score,
While evil responses results in decrease points.
Filling in statements that will be rated by God,
People represent the faith of their own destiny.
You can’t earn a perfect ranking on the final essay,
Marking errors with a red pen by superior judgement.
A higher power recognizes true forgiveness from sin,
Let the eraser expunge faults of living by wise choices.
When your replies are considered for evaluation,
The creator grades a ruling that decides divineness.
Sep 4, 2016
Sep 4, 2016 at 4:35 PM UTC
Arrival came in rays
A deceiving amount of sunshine
Endless light from above
Does not expunge
The cold of darkness
My bones found the tundra first
Gift wrapped in shivers
Skin danced lonely
Find me someone to hold
These words shake off my tongue
Replace silence to voice
Give darkness your light
Allowing warmth to conquer frost
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 2:18 PM UTC
The days where you were respected have become a memory
But it’s going to take a century to expunge all the damage you’ve done
And rewrite the wrongs that you’ve held as a nation of conviction
The world looks with weary eyes as the skyscrapers climb
In the name of bombs dropping, wall street journalism, and cash flow
The initiative that everyone is judged by the actions of corrupted officials
Humanity ruined in the eyes of offspring growing into a world of detestation
The silence of the unvoiced majority grows louder as the streets crowd
We are not the same and we are not part of the hidden agenda
Of world ********** civil suppression, and authoritative tyranny
Apr 20, 2012
Apr 20, 2012 at 8:07 PM UTC
When you link my arm in a crowded place
When you brush a hair from off my face
You bring me joy
When you catch my eye across a room.
When you expunge my thoughts of impending doom
You bring me joy
When you shed a tear at a soppy show
When you give me the space from which to grow
You bring me joy
When you rest your weary head upon my chest
When you make me aware of how much I'm blessed
You bring me joy
When you pretend you're shocked if I've been rude
When you shyly smile when you're in the mood
You bring me joy
You bring me joy x
Jul 13, 2016
Jul 13, 2016 at 1:32 AM UTC
I've been treading water, trying not to drown
But I'm afraid, I'm finally going down
The waves are coming faster
And of self control I am no master
Should I hold my breath as I plunge
Or breath in the water and quickly this life expunge
I keep my eyes open as I am sinking
But I can't keep from blinking
When a colorful fish swims by
Then turned around and looked me in the eye
What he had to say gave me chills
"Why don't you just grow gills
We all must change and adapt
Or none of us would live through life's crap"
Wise words from a fish's lips
And if I survive, I'll never again eat fish and chips
Jun 13, 2016
Jun 13, 2016 at 11:11 AM UTC