"indemnity" poems
A patriotic fervor producing fealty
A noble cause compelling loyalty
Paired with a callous indignity
Brash enlistee plunges toward destiny
Honor's badge worn with impunity
Duty's moniker embossed with magnanimity
Insatiable bloodlust quelshing all insecurity
Unbridled ego clamoring a garrulous enmity
Toward the villains who shattered blithe serenity
First skirmish, pageantry displaced by gravity
Mettle varnished with aura of invincibility
First battle, fallen comrades question mortality
Successive battles, severed limbs, caustic wounds challenge credulity
Fragile mind being conditioned to atrocity
War's heavy mantle now shorn of indemnity
Threatening mind's sanity, hearth's perpetuity
Once faceless foes now scream their humanity
Once noble leaders brim with insincerity
Supportive countrymen now fickle, distant entity
Cheering press now rank with duplicity
Only solace, hardened comrades equanimity
Jul 25, 2012
Jul 25, 2012 at 6:03 PM UTC
1179
Of so divine a Loss
We enter but the Gain,
Indemnity for Loneliness
That such a Bliss has been.
3.3k
I am anti-matter.
Trending on Twitter.
Shooting a guest-spot on Two-and-a-Half Men.
A five-dollar foot-long
meal-deal of a man,
long on propaganda
while short on substance;
A School-House Rock rendition of
Aspiration Asphyxiation
penning love-letters to Jesus
beneath my breath
to abate the sensation that I'm just
redundant protoplasm
with a pecker and a pocketbook
failing to distract myself from the fact that
every intake of breath is a death sentence.
I have no praise-worthy abilities.
You can't **** your way into heaven.
Satan himself
caught a better break being
cast out of the kingdom--
there is certainty in condemnation.
Those poor souls who harbor
the illusion of indemnity
through faith in a
purportedly magical Jew
truly are the blessed few
not via the Lord's redemption, mind you,
but by the thoughtlessness of their devotion.
Perhaps the two are tantamount to one another.
The ****** are so labeled
because we question ceaselessly--
curiosity is no comfort.
Should the sun burn black,
the world will go cold
or
some star-burst might
scorch our galaxy clean
of all delusions of eternity.
The meek can inherit the ashes.
Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 12:13 AM UTC
You can identify your own flaws by scrutinizing strangers.
I watched a woman
from across a platform
at the subway station:
Straight, dishwater-blonde hair
glimmering in the subterranean fluorescence;
striking posture—
a dancer's figure—
and a thrifty ensemble that bespoke good taste
in spite of budgetary constrictions.
She pulled a circular compact from her purse
the way people in films exhume a pack of cigarettes.
Then, in deliberate fashion,
she removed a pill and swallowed it.
Birth control is like receiving a governor's pardon
in the process of planning a crime.
I resent her having that kind of indemnity.
I pass judgment on assumptions of character,
high on the blissful soapbox of bigotry.
As that pill crested the ridges of her teeth
and met the soft tissue of her tongue, then esophagus,
my mind conjured a phantasmagoria of lewd images
on the surrounding subway walls--
more a reflection of my character
than hers.
Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 11:49 PM UTC
991
She sped as Petals of a Rose
Offended by the Wind—
A frail Aristocrat of Time
Indemnity to find—
Leaving on nature—a Default
As Cricket or as Bee—
But Andes in the Bosoms where
She had begun to lie—
1.7k
The Salvation Army Soldiers
Should take on new roles
Be a little bit more bolder
Armed with their three poles
And big black iron pots
Venturing across the world
To put out fires in hot spots
And demand the enemies
To turn to making plowshares
Place their indemnity
Bandoliers and bombardiers
Into those big black pots
Manned by the Salvation Army
r
Aug 28, 2013
Aug 28, 2013 at 7:06 AM UTC
Oh the duality
There's no neutrality
Only reality
Stored in your mind.
What of this atrophy
Discount integrity
Chase after perjury
Hoarding the lie.
And to this enmity
What is the remedy
From this extremity
Where can I hide?
Notice the brevity
End of the melody
It's your identity
Searching inside.
Find you calamity
Soak in the density
Plundered is empathy
Fronted by pride.
With all intensity
Bring on indemnity
Forfeit amenity
Bow and you die.
Feb 23, 2013
Feb 23, 2013 at 11:03 PM UTC
"LEANING ON YOUR SHOULDER."
I don't mind how
many times I'm
going to bid you
goodnight tonight.
But no matter
how many time,
I'd still keep
saying it, telling
you goodnight.
Because you'll
always have a
good night.
Darky starry
night leaning
on her
shoulder, singing
sweet songs
through the back
of thee ear
along with
the bird night.
Lullaby for
a princess. It's
me and you
tonight locked
in affection,
exodus
(departure) is
evil, wish it's
a lifetime
Pathos. In mine
heart I hold
you close. Thy love
grew a shield-tree
upon the surface
of mine heart,
under which I
abide and its
fruit indemnity
and gratify me.
Sometimes I
wonder how
beauty heaven
is having bestowed
His angel
unto the earth and
that angel I have found, and is
you my girl.
#C9_fm
May 16, 2021
May 16, 2021 at 5:03 PM UTC
When we chance upon loves opportunity, no wonder in the universe could move us from the inevitable pain and sorrow. We are casually seduced whole heartedly into the spiraling supernova swallowing up everything in our fusion of love.
Other worlds and other ways are suddenly all opened! A connection unable to be lost by the simplest act of acceptance. It clings. It is a forever thing. Good, bad, ugly or beautiful it will never die in us. it is born in us to grow like an infant and thus return to its infancy. It will transpose to fire and ice and a delightful inbetween but it will not fail to stretch your limits or tear them apart and carve a new dependecy or inspired independence.
The world will ne'er understand how the boundaries of love will crush common understanding and prevail through darkness and light, sick depravity and ulitmate compassion. We love this beautiful thing by its very own perameters and inscriptions. Its meaning brings meaning and how tied we are to its presence scraping its essences from cracks and hovering over its residue- we need so much to connect with it again through one path or another.
Our beautiful agapi has an escape like none can ever plan for. And, when I fell into the clutches of this truth, I understood most happily the indemnity was nil and this made it the most beautiful thing of all! I took the leap and I am still falling in a thousand places through a million spaces and an infinite set of times and places. I am completely protected by loving the climb and the fall cloaked in the hope of never understanding...
It all...
Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 10:09 PM UTC
I am the vacant sea,
Bereft of sentimentality apparently,
Gallantly, I uncannily resemble,
An assembly of mistreated heroes,
And a villain or two;
I am a wave at its lowest ebb,
Further now from the shore,
Furthermore from the door,
Of the love I want to blow,
Me away;
Obsolete, I’m Pac-man in the penny arcade,
Ms. Pac-man’s ****** off for days,
Or months or years; or was she ever even here.
Always holed up in my cave,
Staring at the razor blade,
Waiting for divine intervention,
Some totalitarian convention,
To drag me away;
No cares, this lust,
This pushed me over the edge,
Through the hedge- funded by my
Need for mediocrity; indemnity,
Insatiable, eternally caught far,
From what I seek;
Could anyone love a creature so bleak?
Going on a diet of bread and water,
Lamb to the slaughter,
So that someone’s daughter,
Might love a Devil like me.
May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 6:30 PM UTC
Are we profligate,
Disillusioned by fearlessness?
Running unkempt
Cut loose from Nature’s design,
We rest, only to rise
And seek restlessly
Fruits of a victory ripped from obscurity.
Past the grip of physicality, we speak
Sermons of profundity:
Inclined to faction,
Built upon acuity
of inclination.
An autumn glow
As I run my hand through sun-kissed hair,
Coursing though stalwart gazes,
She tells me I am he.
We kiss.
I shutter,
For I feel unfulfilled.
A causality of
The perceived:
Salience of difference no one sees
Stolen by wonder,
Palpitations of her heart
Slight the silence of her lips as we kissed
And I realized that there’s nothing more
Than to indemnify true sublimation,
Where hearts truly rest,
And rest together.
Dec 3, 2012
Dec 3, 2012 at 1:06 AM UTC
I can still see you,
Whispering black, wisps of night even in the light.
I can still hear you,
Cascading thoughts, memories not mine but define.
I can still feel you,
Tears streaming down, mirror my face yours in place.
I can still call you,
Conversing aloud, we ride together always forever.
Mother, I say.
I'm alive one more day.
Daughter, you say.
I'm still here so just stay.
How long will you ride with me?
And why was it destiny?
These questions just burden me,
But it's my indemnity.
Aug 1, 2015
Aug 1, 2015 at 3:39 AM UTC
You call me darling, but:
Darling,
do not call me by that name,
I could not bear it if I tried.
That word is a pyre, and I—
I do not know how to burn
well enough.
Until I can swallow your absence whole
and live,
I will not lay a hand on you:
You who call me out of my trembling cloak
Of skin and muscle and bones,
Into the lissome folds of that tender night
To meet you.
Until I can meet your gaze without encountering some
small death,
I will not try to hold you:
weightless one,
Who I could never quite grasp anyway.
Until I can kiss your lips and remember
Where you end and I begin
I will not get lost in you:
Constellation of nerves and veins and sinews,
Strewn across the stars.
I have tried to love,
weightlessly,
But my heart is still heavy, my dear.
And I have tried to love you,
desperately,
Without the heaviness of desire
or the desperation of need,
But I have lost all substance on the pyre
Of self-denial, for indemnity.
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 5:01 PM UTC
Wander Far Afield
Oh Holy Ghost
With A River for your Chalice
And A Lovers Hold, Your Cup
God Given MarK of Indemnity
Wanderings of a Sacred Mystery
Now Certain Footprint
of all who Remain
Holy Offering thru these Lips Pass
Here is the Heart of Knowledge
Leo Strong
The Tongue of Mind
Channels Wisdom,
NEW WORDs LAW
Held BY Grace
Language Once Forgotten
Now Heard
It is the Lovers Stance
Holy Romantic Play
Held Hard
Within the Deck of Cards,
No Jack this Choice
But a Playing Cards Queen
A Holy Jester
Of the most
Elegant Desire
Wisdom of Understanding,
The Kind
A Prayer
Would Recognize
Made for a President
NowA Woman for a King
United Church Of Heaven
I give this Holy Ring
A love beyond all knowing
With Wisdom at its Heart
No Dream this Wish upon a Star
A Bodies Call for Us Is Made
With eyesight made of Laughter
And Eyes that now do Shine
Heart Beating True
We call this forth
Together both we Live I Do
So many Loves
This One I take
No looking back
Not One mistake
The Bodies Pyer
as God I Go
Give Now this Love
For this I Show
Rise Shiva, Krishnu, Erin, Amma
Lakshmi, Demeter, Buddha, Lama
Gilgal Artists All..Your Name is Wilderness
Magdelene Benedicte,
Aphrodite Lovers,
Christ Lives
AGAIN!
WithIN
Circle Vote, Your Scribe Is Peace
All is Now
Apr 3, 2016
Apr 3, 2016 at 7:53 AM UTC
Answered, thus labeled because views a similarity. Who had this in the hand of the eye’s compact? If presence shifts to absence and believe it is safe in transit, what contract aspires to be an object used against it?
Here must be another present, moving thing for this nonattendance to take place. Its duty need not be nominal. And when it takes place, there is a guarantee for a statement: almost, to a certain extent. Had, adhered, temporary.
This was taken as an insistence of its exclusion as an avowal of its state: when a thing ceases to move, it has named a boundary all within a venue with already christened boundaries. To rise from its nomenclature, a question: what for is this mode? The unassuming and deliberate twofold of its chrome is indicative of something. There are only two possible answers to the question, but never warrants indemnity.
If amorphous then suitable to bend or assume over and over, a confrontational: to hold it against walls everywhere, its color only when dual fixing not a shadow, but the possibility of a shadow. To spill light over the malleable – notice how a body contorts.
If distinct then determined to traverse a straight line, a sanction: to furlough the idea of its controlled variable which is its many possibilities, its shape now not only a name but a force that deals with a believable architecture of compressed options. There is no need for appellation when related to dislimn as a shade is necessary for this disappearance to simulate. But the treachery is that when light surrounds no longer, form somehow a myth as if pausing all lightness to declare something: this is of two explanations merely a single.
Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 8:28 PM UTC
Give me some Tramadol
Panadol
a laxative
a fixative
just
give me some peace.
Give me a new lease on life
a wife
a home
a new hip
(just thought that I'd slip that one in)
Oh Christ on the cross
how do I live with the loss
how does one start
when the heart has been shattered
and what does it matter?
Let me be drip fed on a bed
and out of my head
give me indemnity
against
whatever I've said or am likely to say
Give me
Today.
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 5:01 PM UTC
I would build a house out of you, for a wall six feet under the sky hardly amounts to even a scaffold.
I would reassemble your two hundred and six bones into shutters to keep the sun away and save this mind I have been trying to keep from the indemnity of this worthless sanity. A pair of windows made out of the patterns in your eyes and I would be the only creature your soul contains. Your lips would be the pillow I hide my needles under. Your veins would be the bed sheets I get tangled in, uncannily warm when I tear them apart. I would fiddle with your hair like a cassette tape and when they spin off reel, I would pull at my own hair instead. I would wallpaper the rooms with your skin so I could force myself to memorise the contours on you. I would hammer your nails into a picture-less frame just because a Mona Lisa painting is superflous. I would tuck my intellectual emotions behind the dressing table and curl up in the notch of your lungs. Your breathing would sound nothing like a refuge for me, though your words would be for a tenth of a second. I would carry your heart around like a pounding candle light but I still wouldn’t find what I lost. I would flick cigaratte butts at spiders that hide between the webs of your fingers. I would paint your insides black with kerosene and a lighter just to make myself comfortable, though I'd be the only one suffering third degree burns. I would scream in your ears like it was a whirlpool in my backyard, “take it to your grave”, though I never knew what ‘it’ really was. All I know is that the hinges were made of valves. I wouldn't come back in once I leave, unless I decide to tear down what I have built.
I would build a house out of you, but you are not my home.
Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 2:27 AM UTC
i have always thought these blinds were an indemnity. i have always opened letters with a knife and wondered if the sun would one day stop leaving kisses in my letterbox. i admit i do miss warm embraces. i yearn to wind up the blinds for i've gotten tired of dancing with dusts, with what little lights that creep in and muffled voices as accompany. these mannequins won't speak and i've had enough of playing hopscotch by the stairwells. after all, how clean is the water from the well these days? if sonatas could lull me to sleep, i want to feel safe in the sound of a person's voice again. i want to know that my touch is not lethal, but electric. i want to know that the machines on these roads won't **** i want to know that my footprints are not stains. i want to know that living in my own skin was never a sin. i am not a sinner.
May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 5:44 AM UTC
Wallace Stevens
Wazzup?
With the widows and the maidens?
The name
dropping
the distancing vocabulary that
we scurry to look up
look up
train our eyes
train.
If I came into your office, in downtown
Hartford a city
I knew framed - as my father grew up in
Wethersfield always said
be careful –
downtown Hartford is
not a good place to be alone.
So I saunter, prink, and
perambulate
plonk myself
past your receptionist.
A widow?
And she’d holler:
-Mr. Wallace I asked her to stop!
And your desk which you requested almost 15 years ago
already looks out of date in too heavy oak is
caught between us, a horizontal surface filled
with paper.
There will be one sentence.
And one exclamatory remark.
-Wallace, you’re only human - you put your pants on
one leg at a time.
-No!
he says, jumping up from his desk,
-Watch!
He undoes his belt, he drops his trousers
he steps out of them –
He steps out one leg at a time.
BUT
Wallace Stevens, god bless him,
arranges his pants carefully on the floor of the
Hartford Accident
and
Indemnity Company
just so.
And grinning,
hops into both puddled legs
at the same time.
Then bends over and hoists the waistband
the belt dangling
in triumph.
Lesson learned.
Learned, schooled like
St. Ursule with her radishes
Just another lady
Just another confabulist
Just another story.
Mar 23, 2018
Mar 23, 2018 at 9:32 AM UTC
Barefoot silhouettes
in the sand dancing;
to the burning flames
they're not attaching.
To the lulling waves escaping;
its vibes, inhaling.
Salty splashes
our wounds purifying
into beautiful scars modifying.
1 step, closer
breathe that fire, down my neck
be you, be the western Dragon
sprout your claws.
DIG them harder;
blood, sweat, coconut oil, magical spells
this skin is FORTIFIED, don't hold back.
2 steps higher, breathe that fire
the damp nights ignite
your wings spread & stretch.
Under the showering crystal stars
My eyes and your Labradorite -
blue eyes we'll close.
On serenity's fumes
together we'll get high
transcending into orange, ruby hues.
your forbidden Obsidian thoughts LIBERATE!
the knight's sword we'll evade
2 steps down, to the warm sand-
dancing we go back.
Breathe that fire, one more time
for your princess's levity, not indemnity
Flames out, they go
the night hand in hand they took
kissed goodbye
to the pink skies, said hello.
With the sun's golden strings and his big green wings
His gypsy princess swaddled and cuddled.
Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 5:40 PM UTC
It is just as much a case of mistaken identity
to regard one’s self with too much indemnity.
___________________
Mar 27, 2018
Mar 27, 2018 at 10:11 PM UTC
I is for the intonations
Invitingly as human
Imagine our imperfections' illusory connotation
As derivative as medications
For dreamless infarctions
I is unimportant as the quarks
Our atomic precipices
Sleep hence frightening
Mad unrestlessness
I is for irksome individuality
Askance and inhumane
In conclaves of murderous murmurs of erudites
Godly Invictus convictus
Power Interest can't reverse dust
Indivisible I
Is for interference,
Incarcerated indemnity
Futility of cages.
I the innerchild rages,
The living planet ablaze
Heaven lost in ashes
A maze of biblical haze
I is for indifferent
Intoxicated in ****** traipsing
Lost to immovable beliefs
Ashes of illusions
Masters of dust.
I is for the inexplicable
Imperfect human love.
Indivisible.
In who's god to trust,
Soul sucker preacher?
I is for illuminations
Truth as teacher.
Light life proven
Man still individual
Dangerous a shrewd
Creature.
Jul 22, 2020
Jul 22, 2020 at 2:14 AM UTC
Besotted winged pollinators
roistering barrage drowned
amidst general insectivorous cacophony
indistinct auditory signals communicated
intermingled with bounteous wafting fragrance
midwifed edenic floral pullulation
sensate admixture viz colored spectrum
amidst unrehearsed extemporaneous
orchestral suite bedded lambs
amorous ewe man like bleating songs
nature all aflutter actively socially vociferating
profuse living color rainbow pastiche
teeming soundgarden smorgasbord
cornucopia ignites mordent Utopian aural swath
visual vistas stilling spellbinding
spilling riotous carpeted web
uniting doubting Thomas's existentialism
despite unanswered queries
asper diverse modalities each specie evolved
to survive despite countervailing destructive forces
generating plethora pandemonium ironically
promulgating harmonic exemplary convergence
Highland Manor concourse aflame with new life
parented by instinctive imprimatur anonymous patents
now genetic mapping usurped with untold outcome
analysis bred crispr discovery Earthlings fiddling
glorifies honied indemnity Judeo-Christian kudos
leaves of grass kudzo resistance mutation immunizes
biosphere once prolific differentiation shrinks
becoming monocultural setting virtual stage
catastrophe plus food shortage would become
global debacle predicated, sans virulent
viral and/or bacterial strain renting asunder
tripwire unspooling delicate webbed whirl
already widely compromised more so
since Rachel Carson wrote Silent Spring
**** sapiens population explosion
pits profligate predilections planet Earth in extremis
dire crisis cavalierly dismissed humans
in hot pursuit racking up superfluous wealth
***** deeds done dirt cheap - tricking
mother nature, who will unwittingly
spring scrumptious feeding off scrimmage
forcing capitulation or total extinction
meanwhile fostering long tall floral inflorescence
a composite having sessile flowers
apiary abuzz, cuz queen bee
can no longer wax bereft of royal jelly.
May 27, 2018
May 27, 2018 at 12:35 AM UTC