"fairing" poems
My neck noosed
My legs loosed
I witness the tragic
It seems so emphatic
I feel entropy
Enter me
Centering
Around love and pain
I wear gloves of shame
Toxicity taints touch
My reaction is to cautiously recoil
For I feel a great punch
When I expect them to be loyal
A tear rolls down my cheek
Navigating scars
Like a man who is meek
Navigating bars
It starts and stops
Then keeps going
The tears drop
From what I'm knowing
That my time is evaporating
Dealing with the exasperating
I feel I can be caring
I just need the chance
We'll see how I'm fairing
On the end of your lance
Penetrating deeply
The pain is unceasing
Like a thousand bee stings
While you stand there feasting
Making me feel alive
From the pain inside
I guess things could always be worse
Sometimes that feels like a curse
Because I have problems all the same
But it's true
The sum of our troubles equal this game
That we lose
Even though I'd rather deal with *** and silence
Than to be vexed by violence
They're all just ways of imposing our will
Whether it's through who we birth or ****
Conflict is how we get our fill
Every day a different fire drill
We hate each other
We date each other
We underrate each other
To deflate each other
Pain is used as a tool
Until blood lays in a pool
These things that annoy us
Are met by avoidance
These things compound
Until I can't be unwound
I live in a world of contending intentions
It's a world of our own selfish invention
A world that burns bright
So I can't sleep
When day turns to night
I hear death creep
Seeking to take me from a life I never asked for
But I'm grateful to have
Life is about experimenting with opening doors
And I'm stuck in the lab
Feb 18, 2018
Feb 18, 2018 at 9:22 PM UTC
Those Bikes
See the goth heavy metal custom motorcycle
Ride past with a long haired rider
Dressed how they should be dressed
Black jeans t shirt denim leather
Low rider chopper as it should be
With twin coffin saddle bags
What a ride to the other side
Give him Devil fingers\M/!
Then there was a classic looking bike
Parked up alone
And I saw two racing bikes
One with a fairing the other naked
Heard his engine as he passed
A man asked me on the bridge
Where am I going?
Planet Mars on a custom bike
With my chick and loud tunes
Aug 31, 2023
Aug 31, 2023 at 11:48 PM UTC
I step gently onto the ground as I glide across the shore, padding with a light caution to protect the un-callused skin coating the bottom of my slightly burnt feet, the covering not yet thick and worn from a full summer of bare use. The sand underfoot is a speckled grey, thoroughly beaten to a fine, almost silky carpet, dark with captured ocean and fresh with salty spray. As the seconds pass, the darkness below fades, and my feet somewhat sink, though they are not engulfed, only hugged around the edges so that if I stepped away, a slight shadow of myself would remain behind. I do not, however, move, and instead, allow the earth to slowly bend for my being. I feel miniscule grains of shell aged several millennia rush between my toes as the sea easily escapes the weak attempt to cage it. The next wave tears in, and I see it frothing and foaming, rabid and furious toward the shore, but as it reaches me, it is little more than a carbonated, salty trickle. As the water laps at my ankles, I turn toward the dunes, away from the infinite horizon and know that the slight depression I have left is already being brushed into oblivion, my only mark flicked aside. As I pad softly away, the ground transforms from bland silk to stained glass. The speckled grey sand brightens to a yellow tan, then fireworks to an endless prism of shells, appearing like millions of hooks, swirls, and bowls, across the now slightly undulating ground. Like stars in the Milky Way floating throughout an endless sea of blackness, the shells are scattered in hued bands across the beach, twinkling with reflected starlight. Above me, doming the serene landscape is an azure sky free from all but a few cotton ***** which have been stretched by the sea fairing breeze to be all but transparent. The smell of salt reaches my nose as a bucolic waft emanates from the expanse to my back. I close my eyes, shading my vision and trusting the peace of my surroundings to hold. The faded calls of gulls echo along the shore and the popping of sea foam bubbles sharpens as my mind turns to rely on the sense of sound. Opening my eyes again, I see nothing of the landscape’s composure has altered. But for all its calm tranquility, isn't it strange, that I am walking through a graveyard.
Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 9:36 PM UTC
In the old age black was not counted fair,
Or if it were, it bore not beauty’s name;
But now is black beauty’s successive heir,
And beauty slandered with a ******* shame.
For since each hand hath put on nature’s power,
Fairing the foul with art’s false borrowed face,
Sweet beauty hath no name no holy bower,
But is profaned, if not lives in disgrace.
Therefore my mistress’ eyes are raven black,
Her eyes so suited, and they mourners seem,
At such who, not born fair no beauty lack,
Sland’ring creation with a false esteem.
Yet so they mourn, becoming of their woe,
That every tongue says beauty should look so.
1.5k
Potentially we could exponentially expand the boundaries of our maps without destroying our surroundings just because someone doesn't know what our sounds mean, and what if she found me? Does it make a difference? Would you turn back time in an instant to make a different decision or would she make the same wicked choice you did? What if, for instance, no one met anyone and we just let ourselves be? Like if apathy got the best of me, would their lust turn to their agony? Would our trust turn to our suffering? No, our stability is crumbling and now I'm mumbling, stuttering 'cause it's ow you made me, but baby, I'm not complaining. Yes, what you did to me is horrid and probably a red-herring, and you're still here just to see how I'm fairing. I guess it was inevitable really. It's destiny; No escaping, and as enraging as it is, there is all sorts of ways of delaying. So where would we be, if we kept delaying destiny? Would I be happier, sadder, or just the same me?
Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 8:27 AM UTC
The blazing sun beating down,
snowing no mercy.
The hills of sand hot to the touch,
no end in sight.
The cacti surrounding, growing stronger,
fairing much better than I.
The life within me growing faint
as I lay here dying, baking within,
The water in my canteen long since gone.
much like the moisture in me.
The end is here, my days are done,
this desert has brought me
sweet relief.
Jun 4, 2017
Jun 4, 2017 at 8:27 AM UTC
a lynch-man
in the Tennessee hills
had run out of hanging thrills
so he decided
to travel
a few hundred miles
crossing the border
into Arkansas
with his new hemp ropes
at the ready
he sized up
the governor's and his spouse's
necks
saying nonchalantly to himself
what the heck
then over the highest branch
he flung the noosing strings
and corralled
the wicked corrupt two
into an inescapable pen
round their napes
he placed
the stricture of the knots
which he'd pulled
very tight
and said farewell
saying to them
hang on
I'll be back later
to see how you're both fairing
on his slow return
Bill and Hillary
were silently gagged
Aug 22, 2016
Aug 22, 2016 at 7:44 PM UTC
Rift rafters fall for the love of their sinister lives that continue long after the setting sun,
Breathers lay out their arms welcoming peace with a deadly knife,
Sought after visions lie but for a just cause,
Simple villains turn tides when truth proved to be theirs to gloat,
Lips of curves softly calling for the ears of new found kings,
Lofting lost but on the path that was sought when no path was given,
Crain the neck to see what is alreadyinfront of you,
Suggested laughs at the subtle sight that was born from the head of a baby,
A free fairing fan fiction frantically falling for free franks from Fredrick's farm facility featured February Fifth,
A test to the cure that causes our noses to run amuck,
Fidget in our seats when words of conversation repeated for few sentences know their bounds,
A long lost rambling mind, tastes silver in the blood of night
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 4:23 AM UTC
Dissoluted night and righteous day,
Can't we wander and cut and fray
Under starry-eyed statuettes
Tired maelstrom, sunny morning
Try and follow me and stick and sing
Above the yellowed casement
Doubtful breeze and hefty storm
Guess the color and mood and form
Beside our long knotted cadency
Flowing draft, gentle night
Forget and sleep and write
Alongside the fairing,
By the seconds that forgot luck,
And the future hours
That just might
Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 12:54 AM UTC
a smoke filled room
in one of New Orleans low wards
the kind of place that can change you
in a moment
and leave you dreamin about a face
that you saw in a moment
in the dark light
a face that had her voice
a face that held a world of promises
and held a heart full of sunshine's love
the smoke filled room is still there
you return to it each night
drink yourself stupid trying
to recapture that moment
recapture that face
that voice
that love
but shes gone
disappeared that night
down the road in the pouring rain
down to the factory's that never sleep
to the river road
where the small ships and the great liners
embark for points distant
for places that you cant even pronounce
and that's where she has gone
like a cloud
she drifted away
that smoke filled room is still there
and so are you every night
praying someday she will return
and every day
you labor on the river
fishing for hope
in the dark waters
of despair
down on the river road
the old men gather
to tell their tales
of sea fairing
and of deep waters dream
but river men have their own tales to tell
of mysterious women dressed
all in black luring men to watery death
in backwater or bay
so is it for naught you waited
all these years
perhaps instead of being punished
you are being spared
a watery grave in backwater or bay
Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 4:03 AM UTC
Come to the zero, float in the zero
Return to the zero
Seeing in the zero, learning in the zero
Consuming in the zero.
Back to the zero, surrounded by the zero
Arranged in the zero
Mixing in the zero, pressing in the zero
Deletion in the zero.
Walking in the zero, talking in the zero
Passing in the zero
Playing in the zero, fairing in the zero
Ending in the zero.
Jan 22, 2021
Jan 22, 2021 at 9:46 PM UTC
Incidents; I could of made a meal out
of myself, with the incidentals
I'm so usually full of myself,
so credit me for being prideful with proud credentials
And tell me what you care about most,
but please forgive me for saying, "yeah whatever"
So we can go make a bet on ourselves, but I'm
always betting on this time not fairing any better
Screaming at the walls so much, that a doctor is
rushing for a cure; but one of us is losing a reason to be patient
_Bad mood 1_
I stubbed my toe, but was too stubborn
to acknowledge any of the pain
And after I bit my inner cheek at supper,
I went to bed extra cheeky today
My vape ran out of steam, and I started to
evaporate from the crave,- I felt a bit like vapour to date
And there's a piece of bone stuck in my tooth,
now I've got a bone to pick with anything coming my way
_Bad mood 2_
I spilled my last sip under my bed,
great, no my unrest comes from down under
Chucking blundstones to your ankle length,
but it all ends with me admitting to another blunder
I'm not feeling so bright today; still I have faith in
the next day's sunlight- I hope we can warm up each other
_Bad mood 3_
Today I barked up the wrong tree,
and somebody got really ****** off
The week was a bit too hard to handle,
like a ****** off girl by a ***** so soft
As I was trying to enter a course, like a game of life
playing a bit of golf; ***** deep in work, that ******* me off
I turned on a friendly smile I keep in my left pocket,
for the right of someone to be allowed to be angry
at me, as a one-off
I guess my mood from this piece is a bit off.
Sep 30, 2023
Sep 30, 2023 at 4:01 PM UTC
The 25cc moped was so very cool
It had a two stroke 25cc engine
A full body fairing with space
Under the seat for the rider’s helmet
Was fitted with bright LED lights
And a neon digital display for the speed
Not to mention a comfy green double seat
The off road tires were big and chunky
And the body was painted blue
All in all this moped was cool
Even if illegal on most roads
The engine was just too small
But it was fine for the sticker said:
125cc and nobody questioned the lie
Allowing me to ride my moped
Wherever I wanted
At a top speed of 30mph
To whizz on by
Dec 10, 2019
Dec 10, 2019 at 9:40 PM UTC
Hail the Northern trench
filled with finesse and nests
bore of beauty and wonders
mists of bold and flooded folds
no gold to fix on tables premier
just molded plentiful mischieve
raiding from shore to shore
parading from island to Island
as they hold a beautiful damsel
elegant but daring and fairing
Hail the Southern trench
filled with tonnes of gold
bore of abundance and riches
flowing with enormous generosity
the widowed prince never lacking
accoladed with titles and mantles
will he find her worthy of love
as she is escorted on raided forests
made with trees and frosted peaks
as the rattling breeze fade in silence
to be continued.......
Feb 10, 2018
Feb 10, 2018 at 8:32 AM UTC
At first, at first, far better than worse
You are my companions
at twilights burst, contract, converse...
--the universe expanded
I've only quoted misquotations
Overstated consternations
We are each a cosmic notion
We are breached on beached like oceans
We are constant, never settled
Ever honest, oddly nestled
Curled in fetal fraught positions
Fatal fallen thought magicians
And yet we friends will fail and falter
Hail the rails or tread like water
Rising up from fashions forming
Passioned weathered sails a'storming
Stayed we gather boards and anchor
Shelter ores we share the danger
So on and on till last we shore
Fond in battle, forged in war
Forced to vision future wonder
--What are we expanding under
To each one sharing each is golden
Treasure daring, bond and bolden
Older still and wiser daring
Tied and spilled and error fairing
Pulled together stay the stronger
Stranger in and lost no longer
But long for hope and bow unbent
And sail eternal with us, with friends
and ending onward daylight bursts
--We are each a universe
Dec 10, 2018
Dec 10, 2018 at 11:51 AM UTC
I was once a lonesome pioneer,
A past life ways away,
I spurred my horse in desert sands.
A familiar stranger,
Is all I ever was,
Anyone could tell you, nobody remembered me,
I was in by sunset and left by it's rise,
A way-fairing American,
Inspired by new lands,
After all, the west is best.
Mar 23, 2025
Mar 23, 2025 at 11:51 AM UTC
It’s laughable how mental these cubs,
Think they so admiral,
But even experts can be fallible.
Unaware how like metal,
When heat increases it can bend ones potential.
Wonder what will be the limit,
That boils over the kettle?
Everyone thinks they Mufasa,
Till ones scars, leaves them empty vessels.
For hot air can’t always push the needle.
And words without actions are plain out feeble.
Thinking your revolutionary like Nathan Hale,
But actually your more like Jack and Jill.
Thinking once you climb that hill,
You’ll find heaven, but end up falling to hell.
A juxtaposition between fairing well and farewell.
Didn’t anyone tell you?
That pride doesn’t end well?
Pride is a slippery slide.
That pulls ya in like a rip tide.
Kings fall thinking they God.
For all human beings are flawed.
Pride is a suicide.
Yet temps like a snakes eyes.
But don’t be deceived by the facade.
For devil horns pierce, like bullets from a firing squad.
Not everything can be Hakuna Matata,
When faced against an armada.
For goodness sakes,
With these hoodlum fakes,
Acting like they chupacabras.
Don’t make me laugh you tontas.
For most of yawl are suckas,
Falling for schemes like duck dodgers.
Trying to build a posse to get stronger,
But are really,
Gathering bodies just to dig graves,
Whose names are taken like slaves,
Subservient to their corporate masters.
Unaware that freedom,
Only comes to dumb rich ********
That be,
Feasting on innocents like they Alucard.
Till the moneys gone.
And the damage cannot be undone.
After all…
Pride is a slippery slide.
That pulls ya in like a rip tide.
Kings fall thinking they God.
For all human beings are flawed.
Pride is a suicide.
Yet temps like a snakes eyes.
But don’t be deceived by the facade.
For devil horns pierce, like bullets from a firing squad.
Oct 12, 2021
Oct 12, 2021 at 2:01 AM UTC