"infringes" poems - Hello Poetry

/ *oh no no no... you don't get a jew artefact at this point, when the play of words comes between the son and the mother... no no no... you're target; she should be a **** a stripper, a ***** but when you do what this, "englishman" did? undermining the concept of personal property? ownership? his property infringes on your property, and somehow: my, yours, our's doesn't compute... i'm ******* craving to **** my neighbour... because all i have left to lose is... frothing at the mouth.* at a supermarket: within the confines of a cashier: - 'is this your typical friday night?' say it plain, chubby... **** it: more cushion for the pushin'... sunglasses at 6am? a reply: - 'it could be' - 'if you were part of it' - 'what?' i'd love to fiddle with excesses of porky... migrant crisis? more like a ***** cricis... import black **** given the white boy lay low... it's not even funny, i find it funny attempting to whistle... which i can't, given that i found laughter... just don't come between me and mt "neighbour": cos i'll **** the ******* **** and "he's" watching me? sorry: i'll **** the ******* **** fuck-face-tard! no, i will; i can't conceive retaining the anglophone aspect of comedy within the confines of the monologue, with a cabaret.... i'll **** him... next time we exfoliates speaking to my mother, and not... looking into my eyes... "englishman": spew! you! now! clean up this *********** ******* english! like you bred a people, gesticulating with a hand gesture... new yankies... britain: home, of the the wankies. p.s. no... private property contra private property within this ****** vogue... i seriouslly will throw a **** into his garden, and say... not enough fox hunting, d'uh!

0

Jul 21, 2018

Jul 21, 2018 at 1:18 AM UTC

removed.polaroid-scrabble

fly ************ fly!

/ *oh no no no... you don't get a jew artefact at this point, when the play of words comes between the son and the mother... no no no... you're target; she should be a **** a stripper, a ***** but when you do what this, "englishman" did? undermining the concept of personal property? ownership? his property infringes on your property, and somehow: my, yours, our's doesn't compute... i'm ******* craving to **** my neighbour... because all i have left to lose is... frothing at the mouth.* at a supermarket: within the confines of a cashier: - 'is this your typical friday night?' say it plain, chubby... **** it: more cushion for the pushin'... sunglasses at 6am? a reply: - 'it could be' - 'if you were part of it' - 'what?' i'd love to fiddle with excesses of porky... migrant crisis? more like a ***** cricis... import black **** given the white boy lay low... it's not even funny, i find it funny attempting to whistle... which i can't, given that i found laughter... just don't come between me and mt "neighbour": cos i'll **** the ******* **** and "he's" watching me? sorry: i'll **** the ******* **** fuck-face-tard! no, i will; i can't conceive retaining the anglophone aspect of comedy within the confines of the monologue, with a cabaret.... i'll **** him... next time we exfoliates speaking to my mother, and not... looking into my eyes... "englishman": spew! you! now! clean up this *********** ******* english! like you bred a people, gesticulating with a hand gesture... new yankies... britain: home, of the the wankies. p.s. no... private property contra private property within this ****** vogue... i seriouslly will throw a **** into his garden, and say... not enough fox hunting, d'uh!

62

Joshua tree Across the high California desert you stand with lifted salutation off the beaten path the drift Of sea moisture mingles with tule fog rising from the desert floor you have briefly entered an alien World a brooding connection develops with London’s fog shrouded streets or the Arden with its Identification with It being the one natural barrier to the advancing Roman’s might and Shakespeare’s Play the woods for him was familiar but a place where change to ones fortune could occur and one Could find love mist is one of the times that a magic wand was effectively waved it produced a myriad Of realties notable connections a display that reaches the far borders of wonder pleasantness infringes On the harder order of the desert’s hotter principles farther east the great desert sentry looms above All else the saguaro cactus also raises its arms as the Joshua giving thanks for life in a stark and Burdensome land rock and scrub fills this place it takes time to appreciate such bitter circumstances But you can sink thoughtful roots that will play a symphony between sun and shadow and all the living Things that eke out a living there are a breed of people that thrive here also they can teach a lot to Others live on less you would be amazed how refreshing simple living can be get to much you find Fun squeezed out of the seams of the so called good life just think in this term when does water taste Like heavenly nectar when you have been deprived and are at a loss to find it the abundance of anything Can temper its value death swiftly occurs when the spirit of taking things for granted pervades those Times that are riveting and create completeness in us are by nature rare and treasured you don’t have To trek to far off deserts or faraway places a child’s youthful smile that is slipping away When tenderness flows and she makes your heart glow know my friend you are blessed with God’s best for all of earths time a husbands Gentle laugh his look that stirs you deeply these are but three of rarified finds that are in your life Enjoy treasure them they are personal gifts you possess today

0

Jan 9, 2012

Jan 9, 2012 at 6:51 PM UTC

hal-loyd-denton

Joshua tree

Joshua tree Across the high California desert you stand with lifted salutation off the beaten path the drift Of sea moisture mingles with tule fog rising from the desert floor you have briefly entered an alien World a brooding connection develops with London’s fog shrouded streets or the Arden with its Identification with It being the one natural barrier to the advancing Roman’s might and Shakespeare’s Play the woods for him was familiar but a place where change to ones fortune could occur and one Could find love mist is one of the times that a magic wand was effectively waved it produced a myriad Of realties notable connections a display that reaches the far borders of wonder pleasantness infringes On the harder order of the desert’s hotter principles farther east the great desert sentry looms above All else the saguaro cactus also raises its arms as the Joshua giving thanks for life in a stark and Burdensome land rock and scrub fills this place it takes time to appreciate such bitter circumstances But you can sink thoughtful roots that will play a symphony between sun and shadow and all the living Things that eke out a living there are a breed of people that thrive here also they can teach a lot to Others live on less you would be amazed how refreshing simple living can be get to much you find Fun squeezed out of the seams of the so called good life just think in this term when does water taste Like heavenly nectar when you have been deprived and are at a loss to find it the abundance of anything Can temper its value death swiftly occurs when the spirit of taking things for granted pervades those Times that are riveting and create completeness in us are by nature rare and treasured you don’t have To trek to far off deserts or faraway places a child’s youthful smile that is slipping away When tenderness flows and she makes your heart glow know my friend you are blessed with God’s best for all of earths time a husbands Gentle laugh his look that stirs you deeply these are but three of rarified finds that are in your life Enjoy treasure them they are personal gifts you possess today

21

there were things i had never imagined i would understand be; experience and gape bemusedly at my unbelieving ambiguous eyes in the unnoticeably clear smiling mirror of the bathroom. things such as being a creep the creep whose wandering eye wanders just a wee bit longer. A microsecond length of the not-understood, the suspicious,the dubious the curious sometimes, but really mostly nefarious lunatic, perhaps...? the creep whose teeth clench into a smile. the lips parting but only Mendaciously...perhaps..? the creep who peers into me like a god scouring my precious little secrets my hurt points, my loci of scandalous innocuous things meant to be inside of me for my self. the creep who infringes on my warm bed of Safety. *** ******** erectile dysfunction sneer ****** ***** me father mother weirdity all the complexes that make you Feel like a spider whose web is shattered with but an uncaring finger. power. Uncaring Callousness terrifying in it's brutality intent , and things beyond . the creep peers in. but i was only trying to make friends. a bit too hard , perhaps...? oh the creeps of the world i understand thy plight the fact that you never understand what you are doing but only after it has passed that the black hole irises of un-understanding visages come to you to inform you that you have been a creep, the Creep.

0

Jan 2, 2014

Jan 2, 2014 at 1:07 AM UTC

zabava

on being a creep

there were things i had never imagined i would understand be; experience and gape bemusedly at my unbelieving ambiguous eyes in the unnoticeably clear smiling mirror of the bathroom. things such as being a creep the creep whose wandering eye wanders just a wee bit longer. A microsecond length of the not-understood, the suspicious,the dubious the curious sometimes, but really mostly nefarious lunatic, perhaps...? the creep whose teeth clench into a smile. the lips parting but only Mendaciously...perhaps..? the creep who peers into me like a god scouring my precious little secrets my hurt points, my loci of scandalous innocuous things meant to be inside of me for my self. the creep who infringes on my warm bed of Safety. *** ******** erectile dysfunction sneer ****** ***** me father mother weirdity all the complexes that make you Feel like a spider whose web is shattered with but an uncaring finger. power. Uncaring Callousness terrifying in it's brutality intent , and things beyond . the creep peers in. but i was only trying to make friends. a bit too hard , perhaps...? oh the creeps of the world i understand thy plight the fact that you never understand what you are doing but only after it has passed that the black hole irises of un-understanding visages come to you to inform you that you have been a creep, the Creep.

67

. *pale bright yellow infringes just beneath shadowed drift of lingering snow as if a nascent smoldering flickers breathlessly gasping for light penetrating cracks on whiter opaque wondrously drawn skywards 'neath an unseen sky so far away revealing an obscure warmth in blossoming will tomorrows vanguard unfolding beneath a blanket that only grows deeper over the long winter night a darkest silence borne beyond frozen time layered depths in the magic of a moment, the clouds let the wind stir the fickle sun's yellow paint brush and like an burgeoning embryo, a reclusive hope bursts forth metamorphosis within an all encasing hidden evolution the wind whispers an audible sigh; a sole daffodil peeks out from enveloping darkness, casting out the memory a beautiful light hidden within words in the wind* ... February 28th, 2017 and counting

0

Mar 1, 2017

Mar 1, 2017 at 10:46 AM UTC

wildisthewind

daffodil

. *pale bright yellow infringes just beneath shadowed drift of lingering snow as if a nascent smoldering flickers breathlessly gasping for light penetrating cracks on whiter opaque wondrously drawn skywards 'neath an unseen sky so far away revealing an obscure warmth in blossoming will tomorrows vanguard unfolding beneath a blanket that only grows deeper over the long winter night a darkest silence borne beyond frozen time layered depths in the magic of a moment, the clouds let the wind stir the fickle sun's yellow paint brush and like an burgeoning embryo, a reclusive hope bursts forth metamorphosis within an all encasing hidden evolution the wind whispers an audible sigh; a sole daffodil peeks out from enveloping darkness, casting out the memory a beautiful light hidden within words in the wind* ... February 28th, 2017 and counting

31

shuffling feet recede with the sinking heat shadow chanters possess the street sidewalk dancers work their song the mind a clenched fist pounding a one beat drum a hustle in lunacy chasing crank and doom sound surrounds a fool that is what you hear the constant humm lost in the ear exhales as a kindle, leads a rumble the bellow of a beast howling thunder the sound so pleasing crawls under the skin begins to breath becomes the wind jacked up spread thin spinning shards of speed believing all the joy in greed sabotage of self redeem a play to crash and fiend infringes the sound of terror louder than an ocean roars misery always begs more hand on a knife steady work in a glisten fury breathes bending twisted thrashing fragile decline slashing sublime carving within the lines seeking a hollow spine nothing seen to intervene struck hard to a mad core falling through every door landing in the sleep of dreams face in a pillow held to the floor nothing left to bargain suffocation frees a demon leaves a human being Terry D’Arcy-Ryan

0

Aug 21, 2018

Aug 21, 2018 at 12:08 PM UTC

SheerTerror

CRANK and DOOM

shuffling feet recede with the sinking heat shadow chanters possess the street sidewalk dancers work their song the mind a clenched fist pounding a one beat drum a hustle in lunacy chasing crank and doom sound surrounds a fool that is what you hear the constant humm lost in the ear exhales as a kindle, leads a rumble the bellow of a beast howling thunder the sound so pleasing crawls under the skin begins to breath becomes the wind jacked up spread thin spinning shards of speed believing all the joy in greed sabotage of self redeem a play to crash and fiend infringes the sound of terror louder than an ocean roars misery always begs more hand on a knife steady work in a glisten fury breathes bending twisted thrashing fragile decline slashing sublime carving within the lines seeking a hollow spine nothing seen to intervene struck hard to a mad core falling through every door landing in the sleep of dreams face in a pillow held to the floor nothing left to bargain suffocation frees a demon leaves a human being Terry D’Arcy-Ryan

42

She was delicate- even if it was in the slightest sense of the word. Her world was formed from torn edges of paper, hand-coated in resin to hold itself together. And leaning in, I can start to notice the burns fingerprinted on her where the past infringes with the present. But any heartache seems to only create unspent passion. Because when she was carved it was with too much hip and bone, too much fire in her veins and smooth amber in her eyes. Too much straight-backed confidence, too much of everything and not enough all at once. Tracing the lines would be an exquisite pain; touching her but only feeling warmth, where it should be a sun on your fingertips As if she's just out of reach.. but god, I don't want her to be. I’ll run myself to the ground before I let the embers of us burn out.

0

Oct 29, 2017

Oct 29, 2017 at 9:56 AM UTC

Quinnt97

She's Untitled

She was delicate- even if it was in the slightest sense of the word. Her world was formed from torn edges of paper, hand-coated in resin to hold itself together. And leaning in, I can start to notice the burns fingerprinted on her where the past infringes with the present. But any heartache seems to only create unspent passion. Because when she was carved it was with too much hip and bone, too much fire in her veins and smooth amber in her eyes. Too much straight-backed confidence, too much of everything and not enough all at once. Tracing the lines would be an exquisite pain; touching her but only feeling warmth, where it should be a sun on your fingertips As if she's just out of reach.. but god, I don't want her to be. I’ll run myself to the ground before I let the embers of us burn out.

19

Ventriloquist thoughts permeate from Myself, actions not of my own. I am but a puppet on strings of red, . My mouth is sewn shut in silence, yet Speech infringes upon the molecules Of air, I am spoken with no sound. I am awake, lethargic are my moments, Cognitive relapses as I feel I am neither Myself in this fractured place my mind.

0

Aug 6, 2015

Aug 6, 2015 at 2:33 PM UTC

poetic-t

I Am Neither Myself

Ventriloquist thoughts permeate from Myself, actions not of my own. I am but a puppet on strings of red, . My mouth is sewn shut in silence, yet Speech infringes upon the molecules Of air, I am spoken with no sound. I am awake, lethargic are my moments, Cognitive relapses as I feel I am neither Myself in this fractured place my mind.

10

Now is the time. A breath, then wait... The screws tighten; they loosen me. Poking holes in the moldy sandbags of cognition--stale sorrow seeping out. Whirring gears slow and reverse, and the all-too-subtle tones of the universe split my head in half. Naught but dust remain. Mold and dust; remnants of a past Self. A Self-passed. What is Self? No more than that which has been true. The comets slide past me as I vault skyward, the roof is far too far away, and few know the pain. The pain of Truth; the pain of Freedom. I know. I have bitten myself there, too. And it hurts, like the rodents that we are: spiraling through the unfathomable crevices of our augmented minds... It is gone now, supposedly whisked away by the temporal taxation that infringes upon our very understanding of the word HOME, yet I still am tied to the skies. The blinding heavens. They beckon...

0

Nov 6, 2017

Nov 6, 2017 at 12:39 PM UTC

Mountain

Skyward Ties

Now is the time. A breath, then wait... The screws tighten; they loosen me. Poking holes in the moldy sandbags of cognition--stale sorrow seeping out. Whirring gears slow and reverse, and the all-too-subtle tones of the universe split my head in half. Naught but dust remain. Mold and dust; remnants of a past Self. A Self-passed. What is Self? No more than that which has been true. The comets slide past me as I vault skyward, the roof is far too far away, and few know the pain. The pain of Truth; the pain of Freedom. I know. I have bitten myself there, too. And it hurts, like the rodents that we are: spiraling through the unfathomable crevices of our augmented minds... It is gone now, supposedly whisked away by the temporal taxation that infringes upon our very understanding of the word HOME, yet I still am tied to the skies. The blinding heavens. They beckon...

1