"freon" poems
everything dries up this time of year
driving into the wind I cried for four hours
but the desert air drank the water from my face, from my lips:
brittle sacks, experiments in evaporation
candy bar wrappers blow around the backseat
courtesy of these broken windows-- impractically high speeds
I don't know whose trash this is
I've been driving with a ghost
shouting at it, in the vacant passenger seat
all the things I'd never spoken
(for I swore you could read eyes)
but illiterate you saw only reflected stars
trying to find yourself in the Pleiades
all you knew of love was mythology
all I knew-- diesel gas, freon, points on maps
you read nothing in my vacant looks
I saw nothing in your ancient texts
a translation problem. little less.
Nov 3, 2012
Nov 3, 2012 at 4:47 PM UTC
It's the first day of summer heat.
Temperature is one hundred and four.
The junkies and drunks hit the street,
shufflin' towards death's door.
Freon raindrops fall from air conditioners
that hang from windows on the third floor.
I think "this day couldn't be finer",
as I shuffle towards death's door.
Bicycle tires roll over broken glass
from the shattered window of a store.
The prostitutes all congregate beneath the overpass,
as they shuffle towards death's door.
**** smoke fills the air
as I finish off beer number four.
A chance to put my mind elsewhere,
as I shuffle towards death's door.
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 9:20 PM UTC
Mind like a molecular laser
Even if you get in front of him
he always comes out ahead
His rivals dead
Evidence smashed
with "Magnets"
Chemical connect established
bringing in steady barrels
Cooking blue glass beneath circus tents
undercover of pesticide, and less pretty poison
His wife is a wreck
She's the only one who knows
Sweet Walt the chemistry teacher
Is a freon-blooded massmuderer
Keep the glass coming
Need fast cash
To get established
You can always count
on Skinny Pete and Badger
for comic relief
Albuquerque's foulest
runs every thing he sees
Its guaranteed...
He won't live to fifty-three.
Aug 13, 2012
Aug 13, 2012 at 10:02 AM UTC
~
*Maternal midnight
Metallic lakeside
Freon heart, fayence mind
Eyelids of iron ore
Influence feet into the water
Into an embargo bay
Clear and innocuous, innocuously blind
Hills like white elephants on a polar plateau
Mosquitos on her mouth
Drink the blood of encryption
Change the tone of her voice
They pass behind the blue vein
Become infinite particles of her*
~
Feb 20, 2025
Feb 20, 2025 at 9:53 AM UTC
Death hides a stranger
Into the *****
Of the night
And like a freon smile
It beckons to beguile
Leaving us empty
And with shame
Death knows no blame
And fathoms any danger
Like a whiplash
It scourges our pride
So in the end
We leave
Without a benefit to claim
In life we taste
A little of the sweet
But bitter pungent
Do we meet
And all favors
That we pray for
We must pay for
They are debts to settle
In a square
The sky is clearing
And i see
The clouds that hung
And clothe my stars
They are not mine
Those that i seek
And all i know,
I’ll soon release
Death hides a stranger
And so
A stranger i shall be
Gone and unto my grave
to fall
The rocks
The rain
The vultures all
For stranger still is truth
When unto me
I finally meet
The stranger that is hiding
Behind the mask of death....
Dec 8, 2015
Dec 8, 2015 at 11:56 PM UTC
It has been almost
Two thousand
And five hundred years
Sine Plato’s cave
Spewed us out
Into an odyssey
Of light and
Philosophical
Humanity
Two and a half
Millennia
Spent clawing our way
Out of the dirt
Into this age
Of technological wonders
And now you
Want to blunder
Back in to
That cave that
Gave birth to
A new science
You want to
Take back
Evolution
And electricity
Medicines, and
Other utilities
Letting Freon
Burn a hole through
The atmosphere
That was protecting you
Letting old ideologies
Rebloom and consume
Taking the opposite
Of mushrooms
Twenty-five centuries
Till we succeed
In failing so completely
As you drag me
Back into
Plato’s cave
Sep 1, 2016
Sep 1, 2016 at 7:53 AM UTC
I stood
vastly alone in the center of a massive torrent of people and chewing-gum-stained walkways.
I looked
up at the red brick behemoths with metallic teeth dripping freon-compressed drool onto unsuspecting charlatans.
I wondered
what life was like in this storm before their gentle hum breathed life into each apartment, all while the sun scorched the windows.
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 10:38 PM UTC
I was afraid to put that next cigarette to my lips
For fear of washing away that lingering taste
It wasn’t the 7000 chemicals from the smoke
It wasn’t the 70 some cancer causing agents
It wasn’t the carbon monoxide, nicotine, tar, arsenic, ammonia, freon, cyanide, or the acetone
No it was you
It was the lingering taste of you
and your cherry red lips
It was the taste from where your lips pressed on mine
Completing my puzzle
That taste I’ve been chasing since the tenth month twenty first day of seventh grade
And if you add ten and twenty one you get thirty one
And if you flip that you get thirteen
Thats how old I was when I first kissed you
It had been a dare
And back then my ****** lips
Did not know about poison
My christian lips
Did not know how addicting you were
My collar bones were unexplored land discovered by your wondering hands
My chest was a new world after you
And now standing here
Standing still
Watching you walk away
I put the next cigarette to my lips
And try to chain smoke my way over you
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 10:44 AM UTC
We don’t belong here
Among people who see
Only red in the kaleidoscope.
People who will burn down the candy store
To keep a foreigner’s kid
From maybe getting a lollypop.
People whose good will
Ends at the top of
A concealed leather holster.
We don’t belong here
In a place where the scenery
Goes off limits 97 days a year.
A place where the wind
Is often angrier than me
And covers things with talcum powder dust.
A place where no humidity
Parches eyes and nose and mouth
And water gives you kidney stones.
A place where those with shrunken purses
Huddle down in freon igloos
Longing for the place they left.
We don’t belong here
The shadows of our spirits do not match
We sing our songs in foreign keys.
We hide the face of who we are
And wear the mask of fitting in
No, we really don’t belong here
But here we stay because
There is no other place to go.
ljm
May 28, 2019
May 28, 2019 at 6:56 AM UTC
Air conditioner.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Air conditioner
I made it possibly to live in relative comfort
Refreshing air by clever refrigeration cycles
Clever cycling of Freon gasses as compressed
Oh Mr Carrier you made it all so possible
Natural climates in the home and malls
Dynamically altered to a comfortable temp.
I am a poet n dispense without condition
To the world I give my poetry for free on.
In some places the Freon gas is taboo
Only my free poetry creates conditions
Never has so much poetry been released
Earth bound and channeled by Gods spirit
Relax now and read in the comfort of home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip.
November 7th 2018.
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 5:10 PM UTC
Would you excuse me . ? I would stay for desert but my world is in chaos
A Phoenix rising from the ashes , phenom
Sleepless with eyes open I can dream on
Maybe a stream I can lay under a tree on
So I can chill like freon on a field like dion
Just chill for a second so I can be empty
And the waters could slightly wet the grasses to splash me on my tired soles
Drooling is fine as long as no-one knows
Just ask your pillow he's been cool about it for some time now and always been there for you to lie down even caught some tears in all the years now that-sounds like a friend to me if we wasn't
kin at least intimate amigos and nothing short of it
Jan 1, 2018
Jan 1, 2018 at 6:00 PM UTC