"hotbeds" poems - Hello Poetry

Concrete full of blood Skies, smoke-filled clouds Poison, don't you see INDUCING VOMITING Of every freedom you hold Incubators, landfills For Food deserts Soul Scavengers Bullet and knife showers Parentless parents Starving children Hotbeds for addiction Metropolises Harvesting humans like ants Where democracy manufactures Oppressed consumers out of the masses Majority starving for death Poison, don't you see INDUCING VOMITING Of every freedom you hold Those borders you revere Hijacking your body and mind Legislating no burning of the flag Where they clean their blood-drenched hands on Can you tell what side your on When you agree, they hold a different nationality When can there be actual solidarity? Profets of freedom, alienating OUR power to be When in doctrine, legislature, and policy Hierarchizing who deserves to be free In contempt, not compliance In pain, not numb Reactive, not inactive Burning, boiling, shivering Out of injustice Poison, don't you see INDUCING VOMITING Of every freedom you hold How can you keep suffering, When you face the truth

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Jan 24, 2013

Jan 24, 2013 at 10:21 PM UTC

emanuel-martinez

INDUCING VOMITING (Of Every Freedom You Hold)

Concrete full of blood Skies, smoke-filled clouds Poison, don't you see INDUCING VOMITING Of every freedom you hold Incubators, landfills For Food deserts Soul Scavengers Bullet and knife showers Parentless parents Starving children Hotbeds for addiction Metropolises Harvesting humans like ants Where democracy manufactures Oppressed consumers out of the masses Majority starving for death Poison, don't you see INDUCING VOMITING Of every freedom you hold Those borders you revere Hijacking your body and mind Legislating no burning of the flag Where they clean their blood-drenched hands on Can you tell what side your on When you agree, they hold a different nationality When can there be actual solidarity? Profets of freedom, alienating OUR power to be When in doctrine, legislature, and policy Hierarchizing who deserves to be free In contempt, not compliance In pain, not numb Reactive, not inactive Burning, boiling, shivering Out of injustice Poison, don't you see INDUCING VOMITING Of every freedom you hold How can you keep suffering, When you face the truth

41

I think that you and I have always met. Wherever there's a world big enough for two people to get lost. And wherever the lost lay their heads down too low to see. Right when we both get tired of the pain filling the lamps in our eyes. But right before the bags start blowing in the wind or the dust dances in the corners, Or the blade hits bone. I think that I always hear you first. And your voice is a bagpipe war cry. And the hand on the top of my head is removed all at once. And I break the plane of the ice water fast. And as we rise we lock eyes. And we smile. And our smiles explode open to syphon as much life as we can inside. And we pour our pain into each others lamps. And our lips will light the wicks. And we dive back down. And this time we choose the floor. The coral bouquets. The hotbeds. The shipwrecks. We are the bright lights moving in the dark now. We are the ones we were afraid of. And we are not together. But we don't get lost so easy anymore.

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Aug 6, 2016

Aug 6, 2016 at 5:01 PM UTC

daniel-brown

Angler Fish

I think that you and I have always met. Wherever there's a world big enough for two people to get lost. And wherever the lost lay their heads down too low to see. Right when we both get tired of the pain filling the lamps in our eyes. But right before the bags start blowing in the wind or the dust dances in the corners, Or the blade hits bone. I think that I always hear you first. And your voice is a bagpipe war cry. And the hand on the top of my head is removed all at once. And I break the plane of the ice water fast. And as we rise we lock eyes. And we smile. And our smiles explode open to syphon as much life as we can inside. And we pour our pain into each others lamps. And our lips will light the wicks. And we dive back down. And this time we choose the floor. The coral bouquets. The hotbeds. The shipwrecks. We are the bright lights moving in the dark now. We are the ones we were afraid of. And we are not together. But we don't get lost so easy anymore.

25

Under azure sky i lay Listening to salsa drumbeat Of the flowing stream How beautiful it sounds Elated moment fills me That I faced the sun And dance in the sun Sprint of footsteps We dance and touch the sun Our body stiff with the cold sun Floating in array of Moon hotness Hotbeds of kisses we party till morn Energy penetrated our failing strength Our legs created wings we fly out of universe Into the azure sky we dance in our created sun Bringing rains of love as we become imprison by Sun Written by Martin Ijir

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Oct 30, 2017

Oct 30, 2017 at 10:48 AM UTC

yasaman-johari

Dance in the sun

Under azure sky i lay Listening to salsa drumbeat Of the flowing stream How beautiful it sounds Elated moment fills me That I faced the sun And dance in the sun Sprint of footsteps We dance and touch the sun Our body stiff with the cold sun Floating in array of Moon hotness Hotbeds of kisses we party till morn Energy penetrated our failing strength Our legs created wings we fly out of universe Into the azure sky we dance in our created sun Bringing rains of love as we become imprison by Sun Written by Martin Ijir

18

the evacuated court of my son’s illness. the blind man’s missing eyelid. the grief, the broth, the reacquired thrift. the dispersed body. the hotbeds of skeletal trauma. the dance music as mother’s chthonian darling. the sorrow method. the rhythm.

0

Apr 7, 2015

Apr 7, 2015 at 4:40 PM UTC

barton-d-smock

fieldwork

the evacuated court of my son’s illness. the blind man’s missing eyelid. the grief, the broth, the reacquired thrift. the dispersed body. the hotbeds of skeletal trauma. the dance music as mother’s chthonian darling. the sorrow method. the rhythm.

12