"eyesores" poems
Derelict, decrepit,
Just a waste of space
A relic from a different age
One who'd run the race
An eyesore
Gives the place a name
Represents a time long past
It's no longer in the game
A stiff wind would take it down
It's not worth a single dime
Take it down, demolish it
It's enemy is time
A single pane of glass is left
Cracked from side to side
In fact it's cracked the whole way through
As tall as it is wide
The others are all boarded
Keeping out nothing at all
The only thing the wood does
Is act as canvas to them all
Graffiti covers every space
That is left standing here
It used to be a factory once
That made a local well known beer
BUT ON THE OTHER SIDE....
Inside the building squatters sit
Derelicts, wastes of space
The building is their home for now
Away from the rat race
Eyesores, hidden in plain sight
Humanity at it's worst
That is the image given them
Because of addictions thirst
A stiff wind would take them down
So thin and frail are they
Protected by a building that
A storm could blow away
One side thinks it awful
The other, thinks it's good
An eyesore and a fragile shell
Of old bricks and glass and wood
But...for one plain window
Separating worlds apart
A crack runs through the window
It is the buildings heart.
May 26, 2013
May 26, 2013 at 9:54 PM UTC
Fluff and puff,
water plugs,
power plants,
paper over eyesores,
paint it matte,
pink as salmon,
pack the homeless
into the Bird's Nest,
ghettoise Moses,
bleed the Amazon
down to size,
moor the battleships
to Yamuna Bank,
let white elephants
run riot on warm Black ice
over those who won't
play ball in our
electric garden
free your head
from the rails
for what?
roti kapda makaan
or BSP ki maya?
be buried or a sport
let laal battis through
ab bus, stop
blaming it on Rio
don't you know
how India shone
in October 2010,
or that Russians love
their children too?
So what if they don't
believe in modern love?
Potemkin villages are
built brick by brick
by BRICS,
Red, Yellow, Orange
kilned to Black.
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 6:29 PM UTC
The only gift my father ever got me was a pair of dark blue roller blades
He dropped them off at my stuffy apartment
and away he sped on his motor cycle
I stuck my feet into the holy grail of our relationship
and it was a size too small
my father is no devil
but riding along the burning asphalt, ankles screaming in pain
I cursed him down to hell
when I got home I cast those eyesores out of heaven
to rot in the shadows of my closet
those **** roller blades
I'd always preferred skating
May 23, 2017
May 23, 2017 at 1:09 PM UTC
The dusk smells like the dank moldy parts of the basement, old and decrepit. The days are short, like lives of butterflies. Only stray cats roam the streets after dusk like men in trench coats looking for your children. This is where the buzz of sports games fights through voices like car accidents, wafting through the air with the liquor that fuels them. The mix of rotting seaweed flesh and burnt cheerios intoxicates the wharf, drunker then the teens in their parent’s basements. Anyone can tell you where every **** store and Tim Hortons lies, where bass and basket ***** echo in the roads of chicken wings and blizzards. ‘Beautiful River’ you are where the hearts are strong as bison and tongues sharper then sabers. Yet among the old eyesores you'll find the hope of a city. It screams through the rusty and cracked windows; negligence made mosaics. Based on a pride that runs deeper then it's waters, the strength of those who reside in this urban Crayola box crown and shine like the tips of the waves cascading past the falls.
and the streets breathed
as crows rose and took the sky
crying in anguish.
Aug 11, 2011
Aug 11, 2011 at 8:24 PM UTC
Hanging her head into depths of an oubliette,
the toilet bowl grieves inside muddied ruin.
An early avocado and piles of bile simmer
inside porcelain wastelands. Her face, a dark fillet,
fat like a flea questing on skin. Fingers joust
her drawbridge mouth. Cavaliers cannot rescue.
Tiny talons scratch the back of her throat,
distant organs heaving during the battle
of the bulge. Nothing tastes as good as thin feels.
She tastes it twice. Flecks of spit singe cheeks
like undersink chemicals. Her imperial
belly wails, a damsel distressed.
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 3:43 PM UTC
Broken Fence
Possibly the strangest way to start a piece and its ultimate purpose is to cry for our country it has so
Many elements let’s start with the innate gifts it provides it’s a story of history when this fence was new
Washington Jefferson Adams and the other founding fathers were plainly viewed stalwart strong not
Perfect but principled and within this rough hewn wood that had plenty of eyesores but such is the
Material God uses I don’t care to look back in a romantic or sentimental way but with the clearest eye
Demand of our selves honesty that will not lead us into unreasonable thoughts that will only weaken us
More but allow truth to work its constructive influence a movement through our conscience that will
Find in us the same store house of power that lead our fore fathers to face ridicule and stare death in
The face and not waver courage forged in battle that rose from the heaps of dead patriots that saw a
Nation of free men not minions of soulless weaklings paying tribute to someone else’s twisted fanciful
Schemes they looked far into the future and did see pastoral scenes where broken whitened fences
Were the collective places where wild flowers grow with breath taking beauty where gentle breezes are
Born from the inward souls of free men they carry this view by flowery fragrance it wafts far a field
Giving joy and pleasure as free men and women toil under a golden sun of opportunity through good
Honest hard work the land will endure and produce bounty for untold generations but it is going to take
A people who will engage in the battle and it will have to take another revolution to remove the
Quagmire that cripples political will and leaves everyone at risk of losing such a treasure that was
Bequeathed to us at such great cost this is not an endorsement of the tea party or the occupy
Movement but somewhere beyond their feeble stumbling steps the answer is there as it was in the
Beginning it will take each of us searching and giving our all to find it we will never find it crying for
something so grand and asking to pay nothing for it
Jan 31, 2012
Jan 31, 2012 at 1:15 AM UTC
Eyes can be deceiving
In recieving that which we do not wish to see. Optical illusion creates a delusion of something more pleasing. Blinded to pain and misery. Its calculated in the sensory. Knowing this vision isnt seen through rose colored glasses we make believe. Looking only at the beauty past the ugly. We camouflage the eyesores. Blinking just once to change the perspective of all things in sight. We hide behind closed eyes to avoid the view of the world as it is. We overlook just so we dont have to see. Its only when we realy look do we find the truth hidden behind blue eyes.
Aug 6, 2021
Aug 6, 2021 at 2:08 AM UTC
I'm just thinking of the man with his flawless rhymes and carefully calculated poems
And of the most poetic boy I've ever known
Wondering why I associated both of them with the color green
~ ~ ~
Green eyes
I've always wanted green eyes
Green is money
Green is growth
Green is spring
Green is life
But I've seen too much death
I've touched too much death
I've caused too much death
I've loved death
I've chased it, begged it, taunted it
Death is around me
I suppose that explains the blackness of my eyes
But your eyes
Oh the eyes that take away the pain
Those warm comforting eyes
That belong to a man I love so much it kills me every time I have to say goodbye
The man who I so desperately want to share everything with
The man who protects me
Who saves me
Saves me from the lies I tell without even speaking
My best friend that I can never keep
He is only on loan for brief moments
The moments I truly need him
The man who gave me love
The man who made me greater than myself
But your eyes
The hypnotizingly icy eyes of the boy I wanted to desire
I desired more than I was allowed
More than he allowed
More than they allowed
More than I could have
I lied lies he didn't believe
I guess that proves it
He was always smarter than me
A boy with eyes that could ****
Held his kindness close to his heart
He showed it to me in fleeting shadows and whispers
The boy who let me take a breath, though perhaps I held it in for too long
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 9:51 PM UTC
The birds, the bees, the flowers, and the trees;
we are all of these.
We are nature- the creative wonders encompassed in a dark world.
We are the free flying hummingbirds whose wings flutter ever so lightly.
We are the bumblebees always in search of pure gold dust.
We are the flowers that bloom each May and die every December.
We are the roots, the leaves, the branches, and the berries of the trees growing in your backyard.
We are all of these,
how long we were fool’d.
The planets, the galaxy, the stars, and the cosmic energy;
we are all of these.
We are the universe- the owners of rented space and borrowed time.
We are the spinning planets giving glory to the sun.
We are the galaxy sharing the same name as our favorite candy bar.
We are the stars that are wished upon by countless hopeless romantics.
We are the force, the colors, the radiance, and the chemical reactions of the cosmic energy your soul emits.
We are all of these,
how long we were fool’d.
The rusty bridges, the flooded valleys, the polluted air, and the sketchy back alleys;
we are all of these.
We are eyesores – the blemishes surrounded by the unexplained beauty.
We are the bridges blistered by acid rain and pigeon waste.
We are the valleys, lost in wondrous mountains that are immersed in water.
We are the air filled with gaseous atoms that hide beneath cumulous clouds.
We are the homeless, the litter, the stray cats, and the flickering lights of the back alley in your glamorous city.
We are all of these,
how long you were fool’d.
We have embodied the good, the bad, and the ugly.
We have embraced the magnificent, the imperfect, and all that is in between.
Dec 9, 2013
Dec 9, 2013 at 12:30 AM UTC
I'm not there yet
But soon in the story
I'll see the infinity of it all
See this body
simply as a day
In the experience
Soon in the story
I'll see no difference
or space between us
And realize it was
conversations with myself
I've made some **** good art
I’ve made some eyesores
I've done some horrible things
I've saved countless lives
I've killed this earth
I've rebuilt and moved on
I’ve come the conclusion
I’ll never be gone
Sep 15, 2023
Sep 15, 2023 at 12:24 AM UTC
Adolf ****** may have been an evil *******
In fact he was without a doubt.
I don’t need to remind us all but the things he said and did is kinda what this is about.
I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s imagined....
What if ****** and the Nazis won?
What would the world we live in today be like?
cos the powers that be have still got us under their thumb.
Some say some Jew called Rothschild has taken over,
But like a 4 leaf clover,
I’m not going to let that conspiracy get to me
cos I already worry too much about my own life
as stress can sometimes cut me open
and feels just like a blunt knife.
So getting to the point....
I have no issues with America and her people,
I’ve been to Montana, Washington, New York and even Seattle,
It IS a little too big for my liking,
But that’s not the point in this rant that I’m writing,
I do wanna cite though that for the record I loved Obama,
Despite the air strikes upon Syria he ordered he didn’t cause too much drama,
Maybe certain Americans just love starting wars,
Who knows? maybe cos of their ridiculous gun laws
Every country has their own patriotic flaws,
and eyesores in the dilated pupils of foreigners.
I tell you what though....
Satsumas...
I look at those differently these days,
I used to love the taste of them but now they just remind me of a certain pig headed face,
Calling him a disgrace is an understatement,
it seems like everything he does is just for his own entertainment,
I can understand why the red necks voted for him,
cos he knew what to say to get his puppets on a string,
and the thing is
is that this all feels like a Hollywood movie,
Rudely perverted, ****** and *****
with no happy ending,
bending their laws
Of what is right and what is wrong
we’re either longing for another saviour or the end of the world,
at least for now
(C)
Jun 24, 2018
Jun 24, 2018 at 3:45 AM UTC
I just stepped outside and this is what I saw:
An armored truck brandishing controlled themes,
On a direct course head-on with a veiled rival,
Or so seen to be,
Malcolm X look-a-like strides with headgear,
Otherwise plugged in, turned up, and otherwise,
Shut down, turned away, failing to see on-coming traffic,
********** ******** clad and looking nervously around,
As the blaring eyesores turn hungrily around,
Nature is in quiet awe of the spectacle,
And the old madman squirms and twitches,
Taking long patient drags on his cigarette,
Knees swaying and with a look like he can't remember,
The last time he'd taken a ****
Nov 20, 2012
Nov 20, 2012 at 2:32 PM UTC
_Eat you foolish meatheads alive, Yeah.
I'mma CARNIVORE.
None of ya'll compare to me at all.
You ******* eyesores.
I been on magic ****
igniting incantations.
fire blazing, Harry vs Voldemort
Got a trick or two up my sleeve
guess, I learned a lot Dumbledore.
My light doesn't shine without my son.
Nah homie, no play on words that's not a metaphor
Remove the light, from your world.
Lay you down like the asteroid that took out the dinosaurs
You grindin with three jobs and hustlin like a body builder to get more?
Nothing is going to stop for us.
Me? Gon-gonna Make it happen.
What the **** you out here waiting for?
Gotta keep flowing and lifting weight like my lyrics
Minus the common denominators,
I simplify complex matters and make it visual.
Cause I see, things take turns. People get twisted.
Cause it only makes sense, if it's vivid.
Why you call it "life?" If you ain't even livin it?
Some days, I feel down under my limits, feel limited.
Double shifting is a way of life,
work as hard as I live, talking 10 (am ) to 10 (p.m)
The sword has much power as the pen.
Yet, I dwell in my head on my ******* trips
My son loves my stuff, alas
I question every aspect of my penmanship.
All rights reserved_
_Reproduction prohibited...._
Nov 8, 2022
Nov 8, 2022 at 4:23 AM UTC
I am the dancing queen of all the eyesores
who sprang to the stars from one of the seesaws
in the moody playground where heaviest rain pours-
there’s no compensation for what the gutter endures.
When I fell back to Earth, I landed on seashores
between the horizon and an endlessness of moors.
I saw a single seagull take to sky and how it soars
and wonder about other things one usually ignores
until I seek out scuttling ***** carrying their claws
to protect them, I imagine, from the way the sea roars.
I saw a small wooden boat missing both of its oars-
that must hinder the rower wherever he explores.
After some time watching the bigger outdoors
I begin to feel sad about ceilings and doors.
But thunder comes in echoes of rumbling applause
and I don’t feel a part of it. It reminds me of wars.
The war is what happens while we do our chores,
or sit close to a mirror to examine our pores,
or pass away a rainy day completing jigsaws.
We are mutually something that the war ignores.
I skipped some stones and didn’t keep scores.
I tangled with questions of consequence and cause,
pondered my way back from fossils and dinosaurs
to a creaking house with long narrow corridors.
I wake up when the **** crows and the crow caws.
The Cheshire Cat smiles and licks invisible paws,
'We're all mad here. You think that dream is yours?'
Dec 20, 2015
Dec 20, 2015 at 9:44 PM UTC
L- let's round the table and rethink about Nigeria, when are we going to gain our freedoms totally? after the lawbreakers calling themselves law makers becomes a loser when the children of hunger show their agendas using foreteller as a barrier without a lawyer.
A- although our mouth is not as sharp as razor but we meant to be a commentator for you and your predecessors, about your administrator you being a procrastinator doesn't make us an accelerator for us to be an conquistadors.
U- under the administration of the oppressors they pressed our pressure so as to dismeasure our treasure because they know we have no pleasures that's why they keep ignoring our eyesores .
T- to all we ,the children of masses may God shower his endless mercy cos we know he is more merciful than wizzy and messi .
E- everyone is born to be great ,so stop competing with the mates you are not going for any race ,either in the way or in the phase, unless you want to be an unfocused chase.
C- call yourself a name and let's see if it will remain the same, whether you need to find a lane in the rain to remained the main,for you are born to reign and same time in the vain try to maintain the pain ,quit explaining the grains of the pains for your success is certain.
H- hello the oppressor how far about the pleasure? hope it will be last to be measure I think you don't forget your post can never be carry over and your life is reading like calorimeter , this life is like a chapter, nothing after your dismissal you being a miser or a cheerier ,you will soon be a divorcer.
The fragrance pen
Wale,zee
08137421416
Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 3:00 PM UTC
we didn't know **** about anything
we didn't know **** about love
but everything and everyone said
a love like ours
was not meant to be
seen or heard or thought of
and they who took
to the streets gave us false
hopes that there
would come a day when we
wouldn't have to exchange
our syringes filled with secrets
in secret
we only held hands
in the darkness of the theater
and in the short distances
between the lights
of lampposts at night
all those nights
we told our parents
we were friends
we lied
we were more
whenever we were alone
we threaded each other's skin
with warm invisible threads
using our fingers
and tongues
as needles
we sew our souls
together in solitude
and even though
the distance is still
miles of seas
we swim, we sail, we drown
sometimes we breathe
underwater
we never let the parts
of us touch
above the table
or in the daylight
people are poison
stored in their skulls
in their eyes and in
their mouths
poison waiting to pounce
we went to an art gallery
and stood and stared
at each other in the silence
it was the first moment we kissed
we forgot for how long
until we felt the lasers
and lights from their eyes
burn
they've mistaken us
for an installation
we were horrid,
strange, abstract
eyesores
amidst everything
beautiful and poetic
maybe someday
we can be as
commonplace
and as free
as graffiti
but right now
our love
is but an exhibit
now there are
more critics
Jul 20, 2013
Jul 20, 2013 at 9:18 PM UTC
I thought You up in the heavens
Heaven where you see it all
All of these eyesores
Our smooth world like the blade of a saw
Humans turned to beast with sharp claws
How about these cyber wars?
Shootings at the shopping malls?
Brutality with no remorse!
This world is in distress!
Hurricane, earthquakes, volcanic eruptions
Oh, Mother Nature has seen stress
Increasing population of the depressed
I asked Him who resides above
Can't You make us harmless as a dove
He said man has the power to make a choice
Forgive us all, pls hear my voice!
Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 9:01 PM UTC
*Take flight yellow Moon from west to east
Tint this sleepy town as you please
Turn ramshackle eyesores into haunted houses
Blight avenues into golden hallways
Rusted train tracks become shining silver trails
Dank , foggy horizons turn to mighty Windjammer sails* ...
Nov 21, 2016
Nov 21, 2016 at 9:36 PM UTC
Dear humans.
We’ve seen your twerking and “hoverboards”
We aren’t impressed.
Dear humans
We’ve seen your people and their ideals.
Dear humans
Those same ideals that have gotten a “thing” as we will not insult the tiny humans that you call five year olds. The “thing” now runs your country.
Dear humans
We’ve seen your girl the one who would. In the correct term “meet me outside, what do you think about that.”
Dear humans
We’ve seen how you destroy your planet. (Now not some of you). And then complain about how getting things the natural way would leave eyesores like wind turbines. But we really do mean to ask you. What happens when your whole planet turns into one big eyesore.
Dear humans
We want to say
That we will never contact you.
We may leave you evidence the evidence that we exist.
But we NEVER want to CONTACT YOU.
Bye for now.
Dear humans.
Jul 3, 2018
Jul 3, 2018 at 8:25 PM UTC
A wreath of skulls
you want to hang on the wall.
I don't want to
lose the skin.
The land was bleeding.
Mars mission. A very
lonely flight, pulls me down.
Do you have a
pearl knife?
Small talisman, you used to wear
when you were a child
to ward off the evil spirits.
A buttonless chest. The map
you drew on the torso was tense.
The woods were nowhere. Only
the dry sands.
I wanted to make a slit in the stone,
to release the holy water,
but it was only tears―
Jan 10, 2017
Jan 10, 2017 at 12:17 AM UTC