"fomenting" poems
The final breath is entreated by the breaths of wind,
the sky returns again as the stormy clouds depart.
Droplets of water, from seas all over Earth
Puddles of mud which use to be dirt.
Centuries of creation all about,
Weep as fast as the swimming trout.
The morning birth of the turtle doves,
peaceful and sad to see the dark night.
The atmosphere of peace in might,
As it pecks its way out of shell.
Beneath the bone of its mother,
She nurtures without a bother.
The evening loss of dogs of war.
At last the threat returns,
****** turned out of sores.
Teacher sick of burns.
Fire of skies tormenting,
Precipitate of dirt fomenting.
The freedom of the snake is not so seditious,
It feeds on the nest of the turtle dove.
Protect O mother-bird your love,
Jettison the hatred deep inside,
And **** the snake with severely brutal guile.
The final wind is shakened by the quakes of ground.
Hurt is one dove but there is three.
Enough to go around,
Eaten as food by thee.
Hurt I'm, Hurt I be, nature you sicken me.
Nature you sicken me.
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 10:42 AM UTC
no emotionally ecstatic experience compares
to the seminal instance
whence spermatozoa
(from profuse *********** beget
the miraculous propensity
to procreate despite the steep odds
female fertility fosters potential impregnation
fusing the hereditary debt
of feral, fiery, fomenting friskiness
fueling fancy free footloose fornication
prior to seminal fertilization union
sans ova doth induce fret
full ness in tandem with
diametrically opposed exultant sensations
(biologically, embryonically, microscopically,
et cetera) seismic shocks inject
when deliberate intent arises to disregard
applying prophylactics choice
plying reproductive roulette let
which analogous fruitful uterine plain
bastes the "cooking" egg omelette
which impregnation upends cessation of "self"
first and foremost asper desire to breed
wrenching role of "me" as operative
of webbed world de jure upon
consummating that most miraculous deed
necessitating yet for the fecund female relief
from messy menstrual cycle
she becomes temporarily freed
that perhaps a novitiate (or even a gal practiced
in the euphoric family, she instinctually
abides prenatal signals that heed
without feeling debased, harangued, lectured
pedagogical, polemical, puritanical, et cetera blast
assessing copulation enjoyed gloriously,
ineluctably, kinesthetically
lectured by elder, especially cast
in thee reel life drama, that nine months
til offspring utters initial whimper
elapses exceptionally fast
emitting a radiant golden halo wishing
to bottle confluence of hormonal secretions last
ideally fully awake to the birthing process,
when juiced the first stage of maternity past
cuz every moment thee inconsolably
(perhaps colicky infant)
gets first dibs to suckle,
which round the clock nursing
consumes moments many vast.
Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 11:04 PM UTC
Hate and ridicule comes to the forefront. Anyone who disagrees is a bigot you see. Differing opinions must be silenced, that is just how it has to be. Hiding behind children used as human shields, to deflect attention from the problems that are all too real. Spreading lies and fomenting dissent, that is the mantra they live by everyday. Dissenting at the ideas of cutting a budget or project, that uselessly gives tax dollars away. Individualism is overrated, on government you must depend. If you dare to move off of the grid, you must be insane. A disease for the unwashed masses who walk around like a heard of Lemmings. Liberalism, the modern incarnation of Marxist communism.
Nov 17, 2016
Nov 17, 2016 at 1:21 PM UTC
.
*Heart and soul pour forth
an artesian spring
arising
set free
through the conduit of poetry
brilliant constellations gleam adrift,
soothened reflections
float away unfettered,
mirrored upon
peaceful rivers sojourn
downstream
coursing afar
conjured beyond
the mesmerizing spell
of the outbound tides beckon
unconfined
swallowed
by the scattering voice
of the rising sea
fomenting
a comfortable silence
all at sea
within ocean deep
someone you used to know* 2017
Aug 27, 2017
Aug 27, 2017 at 12:45 PM UTC
Love is more
than a ballet—
beyond gestures,
steps and poses;
more than a passing
summer breeze
soon forgotten;
a twirling pirouette
in an ever changing
season's fleeting dream
To really SEE,
— turn a blind eye
to the incantations
of what we're looking at
— lose sight of all
we preconceive —
FEEL the music
dance inside the note,
swimming deeply
inside the rivers
of its soul —
listen searchingly
to the fomenting breeze
as it fans the
smoldering flame
in your heart
Love is —
an erupted moment;
an enveloping
burst of flames
enkindling
an uncontainable wildfire
an unfolding chrysalis,
butterfly kisses wafting
in the halo around the moon
a thundering heartbeat
a fiery burning
ring enrobes —
an enchanted sunset
vanishing into an
evanescent afterglow
The downward spiral
of a burning ember
erupting in a rising moon;
climbing the rungs
of the twilight horizon
Words may sing a sad song
of love and misery;
some say: “love is forever”..,
a hesitant reminder —
your pretty words
and sweet lies
still linger where
sleeping memories lie:
you never really saw
my world straightaway
peering out through
the corner of your eyes
Looking heart to heart
through the glass reflection
within the window
of a poet’s pages,
when nobody else
in sight seems to care,
gazing right past you
like you're not even there;
only posing words
amongst the untamed
waves of emotional depth
Lying to myself
won't ever make
the truth go away
when you hear
whispered words
grow silent —
Love is more than a ballet ...
but I don't know a thing about "forever"
Jesse Stillwater ... October 20, 2018
Oct 20, 2018
Oct 20, 2018 at 11:34 AM UTC
the Internet sets
higher aspirations
a teaching guide,
on how to
go beyond and deep into
the fast lane's curved and wide,
stretching
the straight and narrow
longer than lasting,
lasting no longer than
memory feelings
blurred overlapping burnt edged video recordings
pores pour oil and noise,
differentiating little between
beginning ending continuous
in the mind, from the walls,
Santana Rob sings "Smooth,"
but it is
the guitar wailing controlled penetrations.
a national anthem
of driven perpetual needy fomenting
outspoken physical truths
you don't care how you
got there,
where you are,
anybody's name,
high octane high performance
*** today,
is not for
the shy and the retiring, sissies,
we all got the necessary expertise,
with violin accompanist of pharma teaching aids
recalling first time tumblings,
exhaling
deep down throated rumblings,
rushing
fumbling ********* an ****** innocence
rushes of surprise and discovery,
success of feeling successful,
the shame of miscommunications
think I'm gonna watch me
a romantic comedy,
write her a love poem,
come up from behind,
caress her *******
kidding kissing her ear lobes,
then entering her entry point,
her neck
even when she is
armed
but forgiving,
busy chopping dinner's vegetables,
make them make them
give up the hidden
soft atonal squealing
like a
piccolo on steroids,
high pitch teasing,
pinched by air ****** intaking
I'll play the bass,
hitting those low notes,
********* my own strings,
deep ooh's and aah's
diode emitting,
the drug employed
is unadulterated
wanton but wanted
desire
this won't be the poem of the day,
no mind,
it already is was and
will be...
Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 7:27 AM UTC
arching my back
the sparks fly
like shaved metal
off of my sternum
as something
like happiness
flecks through
in metal firebuds
that screech coming
over me as a
wave washes
through my
molecular structure,
inside the libations
held up to the
small goddesses
running through
the rush of
the chainsaw shrieks
of bloodstream
now a fomenting river
of tiny waves
cresting made up
of my tears
shed all through
the mineral-encrusted
night
Now those tiny deities
with singing plumpness
of breast and thigh
indigo radiating
from their third eye
are dancing
inside my being
as I strive to catch
the shadows that
only just surrounded
me in that last hour
of plague
of chasm-patched torment
tears insulating me
until I could not see
for the steam
just on the edge
of inability to
contain my
filtered out
pre-injected rage
Here I now sit
a few inches above
the grasslands
lotus in each palm
pumped
with manifestation
in my very fingers
of life
Dec 11, 2016
Dec 11, 2016 at 6:53 PM UTC
Lucifer just said I'm two-faced;
But the reality is I wear many faces
Each one a mask
Picking a bouquet of oopsie-daises
Unabashedly lashing out at you
I eviscerate; wielding a scalpel
Then I pounce; scalped him,
Pelt dangling from my ***** pack
**Went Kerouac on ***** ***
Surprise, surprise
Palpable attack
Thumbing tacks into your eyes
Lame as a bad sitcom
Band-wagon careening off the laugh-track
Everybody loves disarray
**** Vamoose!
Underlying interloper
Feel the allusion in high resolution;
Little tike on the *****
Anne frankly I'm that Führer fomenting furor
Have you lost your marbles?
Inaudibly garbling warbled garbage
Mauled to death
**I **** narwhals**
Convoluted revolution
I revel in it
Elusive illusion
Testify, I bring the excellence in electrocution
I'm the executioner
Putting the fun in funeral
Like a neurotic necrotizing narcotic
A lobotomy to the temporal
I dreamt the demented torment of descent
Cascading like a torrential waterfall
Ghoulish delight
Primeval upheavaler
With hopes to elope, many fold
Mic bold, but I suspect she's hitting the slopes;
Ice cold
Evoking emotion but a hopeless show
marionette in a stranglehold
Mar 1, 2014
Mar 1, 2014 at 9:01 AM UTC
no emotionally ecstatic experience compares
to the seminal instance
whence spermatozoa
(from profuse *********** beget
the miraculous propensity
to procreate despite the steep odds
female fertility fosters potential impregnation
fusing the hereditary debt
of feral, fiery, fomenting friskiness
fueling fancy free footloose fornication
prior to seminal fertilization union
sans ova doth induce fret
full ness in tandem with
diametrically opposed exultant sensations
(biologically, embryonically, microscopically,
et cetera) seismic shocks inject
when deliberate intent arises to disregard
applying prophylactics choice
plying reproductive roulette let
which analogous fruitful uterine plain
bastes the "cooking" egg omelette
which impregnation upends cessation of "self"
first and foremost asper desire to breed
wrenching role of "me" as operative
of webbed world de jure upon
consummating that most miraculous deed
necessitating yet for the fecund female relief
from messy menstrual cycle
she becomes temporarily freed
that perhaps a novitiate (or even a gal practiced
in the euphoric family, she instinctually
abides prenatal signals that heed
without feeling debased, harangued, lectured
pedagogical, polemical, puritanical, et cetera blast
assessing copulation enjoyed gloriously,
ineluctably, kinesthetically
lectured by elder, especially cast
in thee reel life drama, that nine months
til offspring utters initial whimper
elapses exceptionally fast
emitting a radiant golden halo wishing
to bottle confluence of hormonal secretions last
ideally fully awake to the birthing process,
when juiced the first stage of maternity past
cuz every moment thee inconsolably
(perhaps colicky infant)
gets first dibs to suckle,
which round the clock nursing
consumes moments many vast.
Feb 11, 2018
Feb 11, 2018 at 1:11 AM UTC
Watching as they sink
Wreckage after the
Storm of the middle-aged
Oblivious to their own remedies
They saw the forecasts
Were warned of dangers
Still foolhardily pressed on
Told n'one of their endeavors
Clouds crowding
Wary winds
People perishing
Sorrowful seas
Boat bullied into submission
No force like water
Tearing and wearing
The hopeless down into
Shells of what they once were
Suddenly aware of aftermath
Learning of their strife before the wreck
They were warned
Yet, still the knowledge
Curdles the assumptions of family and friends
Fomenting separation
At the breaking of the storm
The aftermath a single clue
To middle-aged unhappiness
Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 10:09 PM UTC
Some days the wind blows
and bends yonder willow
Its roots hold sway
perched high upon
steep sea cliff walls
No gale could affix
a bow to such a limber
heartwood backbone
Wind arched echoes
undulate to and fro
alike a gentle restoration;
a resilience unrenowned
It looks as if it takes
the skies weight so lightly,
while the rising waves
gather an unhallowed chill
fomenting untamed
at the heart of the prevailing
westerly swell
A human tends to lean rigidity
right up to the yonder most edge,
a thin line threshold
a step away ―
pushed by a moment's gravity;
a blind jump over a cliff
into an unfathomable deep ocean
far beyond
a forgiving
willow's bend
Jesse Stillwater ... 09 May 2018
May 10, 2018
May 10, 2018 at 12:37 PM UTC
The self-contained sunlight trickled
through her apricot skin, the dream-like sense
of suspension receded into the driftwood calm
as the birds glued to the wind chime
danced their static waltz. The closeness of
her body in the hotel room's single shared bed
focused like the uncasing of glasses from
a cotton shirt's breast pocket. The entire
room dulled as her hair fell away from
her eyes still closed but staring directly
into his neck, innocence beading her skin
like sunlight through a colander, her relaxed
breath fomenting a juvenile refinement, like
drinking cranberry juice concentrate from
a crystal champagne glass. His eyes filled
with admiration, not necessarily towards
her but the unconscious movement of her
cheek nestling against his shoulder.
Nov 23, 2010
Nov 23, 2010 at 2:04 PM UTC
As we are
Famed for hypocrisy
Do allow us to
Lecture you
About democracy
Though we know
Prior to us
You have the practice
In the timeline, upstarts
Usurping the know-all
Permit us
About democracy to
Goad you please!
The divide-and-rule
Machiavellian gesture
As an adventure
We admit
And still exercise it
Fomenting
Ethnic-based conflict.
We adore to fish
In troubled water
To sure meet
Own objective faster.
Just like a canopy feeder
With our wings
Eclipsing the water
Striking out light helps us
Unsuspecting fishes
To pick better.
In a
System of governance
And religiosity
You took the lead
But our piece of advice
How to dine, how
To put on attires
You have to heed,
Forget not
Boiled-wheat aid
You may need.
Disgraced, it is better
For food your pride
You barter.
Don’t think
Humanitarian issues
Or aid
Is what first comes
To our head.
The economically weak
Their mind we—
Hooligan hypocrites—
Don’t
Allow them to speak
Leave alone
Their own roadmap
To design and
God-bestowed
Wealth to tap.
Worshippers of devil
Head- to -toe
We are evil.
It is our duty
To exhume a
Terrorist party
That shows alacrity
To execute assigned task
The reason behind its back
Remiss to ask.
TPLF is our right arm
We don’t want
On it to happen
Any harm.
We don’t mind
For genocide
A hotbed TPLF members
Or dissenters may find.
Introducing
Modern colonization
Is our covert intention. ///
May 19, 2021
May 19, 2021 at 8:44 AM UTC
I heard you singing
oh what a melody
awakening me
to cool clearness
to a fresh nearness
and peaceful resonance
with the preciousness
of Earth.
Contrast the days of anger
creeping and seeping into me
in such stupid little things
as an unscrewable top
a ***** fork dropped
a page that wouldn't turn
a candle I couldn't burn
talking barking heads
fomenting darkness
and dread.
Last night I saw your sympathy and sadness
as I poured out my madness
into the bowl of your heart
threads in me torn apart
dangling jangling my nerves
and knotting my stomach
but there you sat calmly listening
your eyes glistening
full of understanding and love
oh what grace
what a delicate lace
woven of affection
through you
from above
to cure my affliction
to settle me
into my soul
into that sacred soil
where heaven is sprouting
right there below my doubting.
And so this morning
from the tendrils of my sleeping
I heard singing
the larks and love
God and Earth are bringing
and dancing behind my eyes
until they opened
and beheld
an ever burgeoning
ever startling
spring.
Mar 31, 2017
Mar 31, 2017 at 10:07 AM UTC
Often times you twist and bend my emotions to your will, I become a caricature and puppet on the strings of the most precious, witty and beautiful woman in all the world. You are my beloved, and there is no better feeling than the fire we create when in the presence of one another. Gazing into your eyes fills me with warmth and splendor that only an astronaut can feel when he gazes at images of space. He knows there is so much that has yet to be uncovered, so much to explore all the while discovering amazing things along the way. Discovering things about himself and the infinitely beautiful, mysterious and deep space. Your beauty is reminiscent of a Swan nebula, but in your case, how fitting that the alternative name be Omega nebula. Both names fitting, you have the grace and striking beauty of the Swan, while maintaining the presence of mind and the calm that is expected of Royalty. Your beauty is reminiscent of a supernova; untamed and bursting with fierce warm energy that is at times threatening, yet baring witness to such an occurrence in nature is an incomparable privilege that few experience. The possibilities are endless, opportunity for unsurpassed success and cataclysmic disaster lurk at each attempt to explore the unknown. Your heart and mind are my unknown, I have discovered so much about you and all that you have to offer, but still, there is an indeterminate amount that I have yet to uncover. You appear innocent and naïve at times and at others distant and cold at others warm and loving. There is an enchanting spell that you have woven within the fabric of my soul and spirit that draws me back to your tender embrace helplessly. Being within your grasp and falling prey to your seduction over and again is only surpassed by the very first time my eyes met yours. Falling for another, could not even compare to your coquetry. Your presence fomenting emotions that conflict while your words assuage these same emotions, making them no less than a welcome breeze on searing August afternoon. You are greatly missed. In your absence, I pine for our next encounter, so that once again our eyes can meet and I can become an astronaut gazing at images of space, eager to uncover the wonders of the unknown, the unknown that I have come to love and revere. An unknown that can only be regarded as the consummate frontier, yet a frontier with depths known to only the cosmos and only willing to share with those who dare.
Nov 10, 2011
Nov 10, 2011 at 12:31 AM UTC
life’s slippery slopeyness
keeping us on edge
moving forward
avoiding Sisyphus’ fate
preparation is paramount
educating ourselves
for proper execution
of meaningful moments
discovery and discernment
stoking passion’s fire
fear of failure and
mediocrity’s nothingness
quieting doubting demon epaulettes
turning our mind’s soil
to aerate our roots
fomenting growth
with no need to impress
others or self
or even think in those terms
exploiting one’s own personal
weaknesses and strengths with
grace sanding smooth
rough passages
today’s deferment is
tomorrow’s regret
posture your head high
with joyous eyebrows
feeling alive
appreciating the privilege
of the fruit of your passion
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 2:56 AM UTC
~Jan. 9, 2025~NYC
<•>
The words of Walt Whitman (1)
~~~~
The origin of all poems!
Oh what a sweeping promise
does Whitman, proffer,
you to entice, to succor.
ease out from within yourself,
that which is therein ready,,
to organize
what be the
fermenting stack of seeded cells of
fomenting
stacked
multiple
simultaneous
observations,
poetry lurking, thine owned senses,
a catalyst cataloging constantly
and you happily despair to
capture, retain, s u s t a i n,
the pieces of a whole that
knowing only you possess,
that only you can
perfect as the combo
expression of
your
pre~owned assembly
as a solitary protagonist, witness,
and audience!
*Understand the origins of the poem,
because it is* original *to you,
comprehension of this principle,
means that you will never be
starved for inspiration,
record the ordinary and the peculiar,
the off drink that when mixed,*
shaken and stirred
that only you
can pour and better yet ,
s h a r e!
Jan 10, 2025
Jan 10, 2025 at 1:06 PM UTC
I am a moment captured at the bottom of a glass.
I am the tempered mellow gold there sinking as sand
As the sun d’scends.
I am the fomenting film rippling ‘round the edges
Of tap’ring bubble gases amassing and trapped there
As the ice melts.
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 11:20 PM UTC
The death of discourse on
the minds of elite professors,
free speech slain-
highly educated zombies.
feeding on
un-maturated brains
Safe spaces created with
the mantra- see no evil,
hear no evil, speak no evil,
all the while inciting
riots and kaos, fomenting
campi upheaveal
Learning being crucified
the latest fad-
intellectual suicide...
Jun 25, 2018
Jun 25, 2018 at 4:50 PM UTC
False statements formalized
Righteousness forbidden
Truth forgotten and forsaken
With negative force
For the sake of forgiveness
In human form
Which we lack
We lose focus and fortitude
Unable to foresee
Human fall
In the following generation
Dreams lost in the fog
Innocents forlorn and forfeited
Forever
We left with
Phobia of being humen
In the dark forest
No one’s fault
Saint Bernardino of Siena
Died in fourteen forty four
****** usury and fornication
Took over the world
People gambling for power
Natives killing folks
Because they are foreigners
Humanity forgone
Our homes are foxholes
The world turned cold and formidable
With forbidding souls
These are no longer the lands
Of our patriotic forefathers
We failed to follow their tracks
To forfend their heritage
Forbye fomenting cultural barriers
Because of power and fortune
We remained
Phoney and folly
We lost forethoughtfulness
We are done, humanity foredone
And forgone
What for?
Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 7:03 AM UTC
You purport that you
are always right
with verbiage, loud
designed to confuse
fomenting exasperation
with this constant fight
and sisyphean failure
to change your views.
Sep 15, 2020
Sep 15, 2020 at 8:22 AM UTC
Enter, seize the catalyst
It's a battle and a friendly conversation
Smile and you die, sword and you die
All because of the footprints she left and the echos of platonic laughter still here
-cj
Aug 19, 2014
Aug 19, 2014 at 6:15 PM UTC
sweet corral
in savage fields
you were to me
salvaged visions
hushed syllables
relayed in gasps
now stilled
and I sang to
this favoured space
place all ages stretch
dance to meadow’s song
but havens don’t last
for spent shepherds
seek sleep too
I face myself
as dark clouds
I saw fomenting
omens of looming
deepening chill told
of friendship's succor
earmarked to go
confronted by
naked and scarred
discarded outcasts
dirges of limbs
parts broken
by storms'
scythes
you stood
beside me
sturdy strong
then winds ceased
and bland tones
transmitted
often
no sunny sky friend
you are but in storms
you see the beaten
traveler's plea
as rains
strip
breath
Mar 28, 2020
Mar 28, 2020 at 6:20 AM UTC
young people all across this country
(The United States Of America),
this middle aged papa doth adore
stand arm against
pervasive arms that didst bore
un-necessary slain school students
robbing society of core
as unwitting targets,
sans vibrant youths
forever snatched to enter door
of homes, where loving
kith and kin no longer behold
a cherished biological product
lowered six feet under into cold
terra firmae, where Mother Earth
entombs the fruits
(ripened to their prime), now...en fold
did taken down by random bullets, which gold
din precious person murdered,
where maniacal gunman didst hold
down the trigger, which high powered weapon
loosed asper indiscriminate aim
mass destruction
of sons and/or daughters killed fired,
whence slug didst claim
another abhorrent statistic
from easy access snatching a darling dame
or handsome lad, while soundless horror
many a countenance
doth non verbally exclaim
the profound sadness,
now murdered offspring
solely enshrined within picture frame
where sorry lost life haint no board game
yet, random dice throw
courtesy of second amendment
fuels American's passion
asper right to bear arms, particularly re: cent
spate of wanton mounting killed
(within storied halls of academia)
spurred many well organized national event
reached a tipping point,
where lock, stock and barrel deadly age gent
brought together this day
(March 24 th, 2018), an immense crowd
staged across America within major metropolitan areas
(from sea to shining sea) with actions loud
her than his words,
suffusing this older dada to feel proud
unsure if thine eldest progeny joined
the Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
swell organized protests, which wowed!
Mar 24, 2018
Mar 24, 2018 at 2:26 PM UTC