"geological" poems
Barack Obama
Is a fork tongued devil
Who supports abortions
And homosexual marriage
The Lord said
His hand of judgement will come
Against the U.S.
The first devastation will hit
There will be another right on its heels
A series of devastating events
Look to the skies---- (nuke)
Look to the seas---(tsunami)
Look to the earth---(earthquake)
People being killed with guns
Marshall Law
The United States will fall
Because of its wickedness
The U.S. will decrease
And Israel will increase
It will happen
These things will happen before
His return
The sword will be the nuclear war
Drought from no rains
Pestilence new strain of disease
5 year war
Then famine
Fill up storehouses
Landscape of America will change
Waterways will become poisonous
Sun will emit flashes of radiation
His hand is on the weather
(Hand of the Lord)
Ocean will come as far as the Rockies
Geological plates will shift
Russians will attack infrastructure
Of the nation
A nation of lies
Darkness will overcome
A deep darkness will cover
The people
Because they love the lies
The Lord said to her,
"Do not despair my children
Out of the darkness
Comes the glorious light."
There will be
Cities of refuge
For those who know Him
Intimately
There will be a city of refuge
Stay close and He will instruct you
Jun 28, 2015
Jun 28, 2015 at 9:03 PM UTC
Black candles burn, and the wick of life slowly reduces her beautiful self to certain uncertainty.
I don’t know about you, but I have been bewitched by the seductions of Eve.
Why?
Because she is spellbindingly irresistible in her raunchy nakedness. Babylon may reign in the guise of liberty – but how blissful truly is ignorance?
Geological mockery echoes her ****** laughter in the canyons of inevitability, whilst we stand on the precipice of conception.
So, my seasoned companion of confusion, let us rest in ontological comfort as the universe unrolls the carpet of kaleidoscopic dreams. Everything is fine.
Honestly!
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 3:52 PM UTC
Slotting into geological time
"As a man thinks, so is he", ferillergood ye may
as well add as subtract.
Am i right or am I wrong?
Dexter, yeh, that'n
or Sinister.
Being left or right,
That's jest sided-ness, a sort,
a me-trick-able stackable thing,
with an in
side and an out
side and a top outside and a bottom outside
and a front inside and a front backside
and a back frontside with its own inside.
Like you.
Value pends 'pon sorts of things
into similarities of singularities,
if I got that message un occluded or
unveiled of sacred meanings.
There seemed to be no code
"if a man (voice) says a thing that is true, but
I did not say it: does that make it untrue?"
I answered, "Lord, you are truth."
Wow. Look what I said. truth you are lord.
Punctuated equilibrium humm white noise of wonder
can it be?
'Think so.
Sep 11, 2018
Sep 11, 2018 at 3:17 AM UTC
Black candles burn in the same manner as the wick of life diminishes in certain uncertainty.
Pursue what is considered to be attainment whilst geological mockery echoes her laughter in the canyons of inevitability.
We are on the precipice of conception. Do you believe it?
Intellectual supremacy bows her head in humble acknowledgement of eternal principalities.
Give gratitude to the universe, because there is simplicity in what you consider to be complexity. Stop fighting destiny and embrace nirvana.
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 3:47 PM UTC
The encapsulating power of silence is a beckoning wonder of the universe, as we abandon our awareness and travail toward psychedelic oblivion.
Although Neolithic tendencies have shaped our foreign fields of hybrid plantations at the expense of organic exuberance, it is wise that we listen to the concerts at dawn and dusk as they echo from the depths of the woodlands.
In our unwitting state of being, owls often grace us with their ghostly presence.
This sullen atmosphere is so damp with the juices of forgotten dreams, and we are not yet shrouded by the mysteries of such treacherous slumbers and defensive immobilisations.
Look at the patterns upon the rock of the Badlands where geological delicacies are too difficult to masticate.
Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 10:48 PM UTC
I am an explorer of souls
My ears and eyes my vessel
The coffee shop my microcosm
Each person has a story created by me
I navigate the terrain of their crooked smiles and baggy eyes
and create the geological history of their heart
Its an arduous task,
being an explorer of souls
Sometimes their sadness leaks inside me,
a vast river of tears
But sometimes their joy radiates everywhere,
the great sun radiating down upon me
Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 1:22 PM UTC
New Year’s Celebration
Among mad men in drowning corridors,
built on rusty foundations,
tethered to rotting, sugar-coated
grins, and nestled in the trashcan
of our neighbor’s backyard –
a candle we cannot see burns
out over the mountains, the
ones draped in vacation photographs,
the same set your kitten is named after,
a geological setting, a historical
lesson, a discipline of chances
strewn into another’s handshake
sweat left on the public
bathroom door handle, a smudge
of lipstick left on the countertop,
next to powder – a scene
unimagined for nonexistent detectives.
In a drunken state, we decide to play
Gunshots or Fireworks?
And we laugh when we are wrong.
Jan 1, 2015
Jan 1, 2015 at 2:07 AM UTC
pain loves the present tense
it loves gravity so that the clouds
are turned into geological strata
sometimes I use my hands like an anaesthetic
between right and wrong the pain dillema:
to feel or not to feel (the unknown)
we discover clever remedies or illusions
quiet cannery in the storehouse of flesh
it comes in circles mixtures all kind of names
it has rythm texture electric blackness
each unshed tear an orb of contraction
compulsive excavation of the void inside
sometimes I feel I have canyons of salt in my heart
on the edges of safety so much to learn about terror
this pain is a blind Robinson on Hope island
(with his bare hands he sets pyres in his heart)
was it pain that invented this language, these holy wars?
love you, hate you, nonsense, can't stand it anymore
I know my father lied to me that he doesn't feel pain
bodies in pain can't dream the water slide of life
that might take us further away into the night of day
time to say thank you, say farewell,
love everything that simply is
it is time to
Mar 21, 2023
Mar 21, 2023 at 3:23 PM UTC
Oh the outback what you've shown me
Uluru is but one piece discovered
This is raw and the real Australia
Beauty here is vast and wide
And wildlife is richer than the people
Culture is purely in abundance
Knowledge of aboriginal tradition is shared
Landscaped variety of same stretched desert
Once changed the view is most dramatic
Visions of geological change in earths' history
Each day makes me want more
Sep 18, 2015
Sep 18, 2015 at 11:58 PM UTC
the gentle twin
of the aggressive,
passionate
5th
beethoven's 6th dances
sings
of repetition in nature
and in ourselves
how, in a way
we are all the same
leaf, stem, branch
eyes, nose, mouth
it's the law of uniformitarianism
what happened before
in geological history
can, and will,
happen again
love me today
love me tomorrow
hit me today
hit me tomorrow
disappoint me today
disappoint me tomorrow
uniformitarianism
or beethoven's 6th
it's what keeps us
safe in our beds
and wide awake
scared
at 4 in the morning
Jun 8, 2013
Jun 8, 2013 at 1:20 PM UTC
Oh, Woman
He’s dreaming of your depth
like a synergy of effortless truths
your imaginary *** a mystical shore
waxing and waning in violent tides
of affectionate sap
He would fly his kite running out of breath
like a child blessed with forgetting
puer aeternus
He would spin the hours in laughter,
in untamed visions
and here it is...
time revisited with gossamer touch
the bestiary revised with tender beings
making love in the naked air
in the breeze of forgotten forests
in purple shy sheets
in the miracle of tomorrow
in unshed skins
imagine the bliss of the first breath
the dreams in geological strata
She’s just waiting for your rhyme
for you in primordial waters
unborn
now and again
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 11:41 AM UTC
dont need relief from cluster headaches, hopefully i never will
i don't need pink blotting paper
i don't want anxiety to the point where I can't breathe
i don't want to rhyme anymore
i just want to understand why the man in the toll booth
annoys me to any extent
i hear something as i walk past him
maybe its his thoughts, or just the physical
presence, of him tapping the metal siding
maybe he's an introvert that's come out of hiding
maybe i just lied about not rhyming, i can't decide
i honestly can't decide anything anymore, it's beyond indecision
its bent derision of vision
it's beyond confusion, because the confused know that they are
im confused about whether im even confused in the first place
i am... urges, i am... impulse, im not...progress, or it seems that way
i could be progressing in relative terms, that's if einstein was right
but who the hell knows if he was
humans have been on earth for 5 million years, a drop
in the geological bucket, **** it
where's motivation when all collected knowledge
could "in itself" be progressing in the wrong direction
at that point we are the id and nothing more
we have nothing to offer microbial nature
on any other planets nomenclature, mars for instance
has a higher knowledge, their +1, we're -100
im just talking this system, god knows what's just 4 lys away
probably nothing, but nasa still wants to take more pictures of uranus
kiss it *****
Apr 2, 2012
Apr 2, 2012 at 10:21 AM UTC
they say home is where the heart is
well my heart sits inside this
war-torn body going through the motions
breathe in
breathe out
smile
suture together the gaping hole
that screams from the center of my mass
tugging on the ragged edges
trying to fold in on myself
my own ouroboros
subsisting off my own flesh
eating my muscles
a supernova collapsing with a crushing
blow that rattles my bones
and reverberates through my heart.
so this is home
the lodging where my
beaten soul and battered consciousness
have wiped away the dust
taken the sheets off the unused furniture
and curled up with their feet tucked up
underneath their body
paying no attention to the
leaky roof
pitter patter of water droplets
heavy with the chaos and ire
of the outside world
as they land definitively in pots and pans
littered throughout my body
lingering in my liver and
sopping up moisture that springs
traitorously into my eyes
burns straight through my retinas
and reminds me of my weakness.
how can i be my own big bad wolf?
alternating between a warm bed
and hearty meals that
bode a bountiful harvest
suddenly replaced by howling wind
and razor sharp rain drops
cutting into my skin
and i welcome it.
i let myself be cut to ribbons
until all that remains is
shredded flesh clinging precariously
to ivory bone
hanging by a thread
an elephant at the edge of a cliff
tail tied to a dandelion.
i relish the destruction
in razing my corporeal temple to the ground
reducing myself to ash
and scattering to every edge of the earth
until I burst forth from this atmosphere
this geological prison
my dermal incarceration
and fly as star stuff
to become a distant universe
for didn’t the liquid power of the stars
always run through my veins
an oil fire burning higher and higher
until the black acrid smoke
consumed the entire world
and absorbed the sun’s rays
to bring about a never-ending night.
close my eyes.
it doesn’t matter if it’s dark outside.
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 1:51 PM UTC
Your skin
Feeling like silk or satin against my skin.
The melody of our inspiration
Rising and falling in harmony.
The fluttering of hearts at the speed of light,
But who's heart is beating faster?
Faster.
Lights on.
I am an open book
Exorcising freedom of expression
as you turn my pages.
Studying my chapters;
Racing to the ******
Racing.
Our hearts are racing.
Pacing.
Chasing the finish line.
-Epilogue-
In dedication to you, for writing this story.
Your face tells a story.
Aching muscles seeking sweet relief;
relieving the weight of the world.
Earthquakes-
Tell a story.
Earthquake:
1. A natural phenomenon, a sudden and violent shaking of the ground sometimes causing great destruction as a result of movements within the earths crust; a sudden release of energy caused by the release of stress accumulated along geological faults or by volcanic activity.
2. A great convulsion or upheaval.
Earthquakes-
They make history.
Dec 3, 2012
Dec 3, 2012 at 4:22 PM UTC
It turns out, - like hands, like pages turning, -
That I am more petrified of everything
Than you could ever comprehend.
I suppose it's the waves crashing in my lungs,
Or baron wasteland kissing the tip of my nose,
Even more, it could be the death touch
Whispering its mermaid lures to me inside my heart.
Expectedly it could be the curse of gangrene winding it's way around my toes
As a result of standing stagnant in this town for far too many milliseconds.
But the crippling hunch is I have many places to be, a heart to give,
Myself to mend, myself to mend,
Shard by thumb pricking shard
I am rebuilding who I breathe to be
And with a time span the size of a spec of dust
On the geological time scale.
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 6:35 AM UTC
So I hear,
just today,
in fact,
I'm not certain exactly when it was said,
a reliable source,
NPR,
So, I hear that great wall,
the BIG & beautiful one
on our Southern border,
the one HE wanted to build?
The one he raged about,
& of course,
while it was always preposterous,
Anyway he says,
It can maybe be a fence,
instead.
Oh my ***
Huh, interesting,
Well, that's not wishy washy,
No,
At all...
solid guy, he is,
& along with all the other rapidly,
changing things,
that he was so very,
passionate about,
And given,
the absolute myriad of obstacles,
from forcing Mexico to pay,
(haha- good one)
yeah,
making Mexico pay,
sure,
By the way,
do you want to work for his immigration?
Cuz' he's gonna need a bunch of new
recruits,
if so,
Not to mention,
workers to survey & complete,
that ridiculous project,
the complex geological complications,
in an interesting terrain,
humph,
indeed,
& the endless wordly implications,
that and so MANY other problems
we face,
far worse,
& BIGGER ones too,
Seriously,
check it out,
it would literally take,
FOREVER to build,
true narcissism,
exists,
apparently,
Though,
he might have single-handedly stopped illegal immigration by being elected.
Mission accomplished?
Do you wanna come live in the U.S. now?
Hahaha,
So stupid,
not REALLY funny,
still good to laugh,
This?
This is who we elected?
were we ALL high,
on propaganda?
God help us in times of war.
Cherie Nolan © 2016
Nov 13, 2016
Nov 13, 2016 at 1:01 PM UTC
I read that The Colorado River
is pinned down like a snake
used to be that
(before the one-armed-man was king)[1]
the feet of the river
would pick up and move
across the Sonoran dessert
they’d trample laundry lines
and capitalist enterprise
now the snake is still
breathes still it is captive
under 15 concrete collars
the next time it sheds its skin
is geologic time. beyond generational
in geological time the flooding
of the Glen Canyon is a frame
skip, but a ski boat’s wake is forever.
a vast inland sea, even
castles in the sky need moats.
impenetrable as the air
the whole shebang un-erodes,
it becomes nothing
squeezed between ghosts
and immaculate parking lots
Mar 22, 2021
Mar 22, 2021 at 3:25 PM UTC
if your body is a particle, then
my body is a wave. it's like what
you said about gas flowing through
machines, but electrons are here or
they are not. how come i can still see
them lined up inside the ceilings, buzzing
like plasma, at the top of their slide?
if we were to reverse the magnetic
throne of the cosmos, we would need
a loud flash in the sky, we would need
to sift softly through fingertips of the mid
atlantic ridge, hiding some old geological
secret between spiderwebs of sediment.
or perhaps we could just use the polarity
of your countenance. when deep layers
in your bottom lip mold into the glowing
curve of a waxing crescent moon, the
circuits lose hold of their currents like
dry wells, the ancient secret is unveiled.
and that is what you want, right? an
apocalypse. a royal key into the ground
through wilderness. once we return the roots
of our ancestors into dirt, will we suddenly
connect the triangles looming in a nuclear sky?
you and i, we lick our bonds so tight, if anything
crashed into them they'd shapeshift into seismic
waves released as thermal energy.
May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 5:31 AM UTC
I was there when the atom bomb
vaporized a city
and burned flesh until all
that remained was a charred
silhouette
without face
without name.
I'm a bird in flight
through acid rain clouds
I am a woman without country
crash landed
from beyond the stars.
I have seen the edge
of time and the cosmos
and stood on the ledge
to contemplate the exploding
yawning abyss before me
a multiverse to transcend
the geological primitive
the infantile blue planet
locked in its calculated dance
with the sun
where I must constantly fight
gravity as it weighs me down
and ensnares me with its human
chains to tether me to the
terrestrial soil
whose corpse-fed worms
are more relatable.
Their whispers are songs
which hold the secrets
taken to the grave.
An alien wouldn't be so obvious.
May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 12:44 PM UTC
Ten minutes later,
the old crow's sitting quiet,
scratching,
no caws or that funny owl mimic trick he can do,
it's a hoot.
He laughs.
I know a preacher or two who say that regular,
as liturgy, it's a hoot,
here, all say amen,
preach it, if you be the choir
searching still the lost chord to charge your life.
Ain't God a Hoot?
Well, me bein' Baptist, 'n' all...
I 'as reared Mormon...
Baptized and confirmed, Catholic to the core...
Po' man at the door,
My daddy was abastard niggajew and Jesus
fixt me, as I was waitin' fo' m' man, wit Nico
and the band
t'find a
soft place
to die
on
velvet underground, feedback scream
are you
experienced? I scream,
Back for more?
Peace ends wars, don't push me with your
reasonable
casualty in aitia-tick-tick terms un de
cerned, fined, ground
past granulated to sublimated
breathe
Elysian fumes,
unexpected right,
Sulphur, you were going to say,
or brimstone,
or rotten egg,
Sweet suasion sweet sweet suasion
to slip into
geological time and drift away.
You know that smell?
Jul 28, 2019
Jul 28, 2019 at 2:37 PM UTC
cracks me up
this erroneous error message,
looks at me and states authoritatively
nuh-uh, buddy, “it ain’t you you babe,
it ain’t you we looking for babe”
makes me crazy crying
copiously betw snorting fits of
eloquent derision
why oh why
is it daily savings time prematurely
(immaturely) aging me,
be it advancing decrepitude
or just the AI’s sullen attitude?
be it a secret messaging that my
mother’s slow descent into
senility, loss of speech is now me-
visible to the all seeing eyes on
a dollar bill, & or the iPhone genie?
this erroneous messaging appears
with an irregularity regular, just
enough to make me think that
this
is
not
accidental
come to nyC,
come me to see,
need an independent
judgement summary
please
before the winter pale overcomes my
poetic resistance and they park me
in the backyard, where I can sit yet,
studying for multiple hours
the river-fed bay on its way
to the vastness of the Atlantic
Ocean, where the water will combine.
all cells of each of our selected
those chosen body’s of water,
bodies now interring,
while populating
intermingling
taking stingling diatoms from
of each, they will kiss, greet, each other,
with the clarity of recognition that our
poetry has already bonded us in ways that are irrefutable, been coming long time
geological formations new and old,
still forces unstoppable foreseeing
every, every ever
Nov 2, 2024
Nov 2, 2024 at 6:46 AM UTC
Vast dynamic catalysts
inaugurated biochemical
(biological), geological,
and/or meteorological
processes, that didst
wax and wane
since time immemorial
before this "FAKE"
pencil neck geek NOT vain
poet law re:hot bubbled
outa (Compton)
primordial ah stew,
(ward) uber urbane,
sans global Pangea some
bajillion years presaging Ukraine
chiseled terra firmae didst reign
from hydrosphere,
(setting the stage
for Matthew Scott
Harris to markedly twain (train)
his thoughts), wrought variable dramatic,
epochal geographic upheavals
(recorded palimpsest like)
across global terrain
catastrophic, dramatic, epic forces
rendered prehistoric creatures slain
extinction, though billions of years
survived Prince sip
pull purple rain
skill little till lee (skeletally),
within said dam hint
(sediment) permanently preserving
an impress'n quatrain
jam packed with species, some
of which flew like a
donny soaring plane
signaled onset and demise
of supposed pseudonymous
terrible lizards with bulging eyes
"NON FAKE" special effects,
but actual - no lies
wooly alive paw lick
tickly incorrect, tough,
winning ignoble dangerous prize
huge, out of control, trumpeting,
who eve vent chilly gave rise
to Adam Abel bodied
**** sitter ably reduced
cane raising,
(yet most fearsome) size
a totally tubularly err wrecked
primate nada so wise.
Sep 14, 2018
Sep 14, 2018 at 3:06 AM UTC