"liquidation" poems
I spend my love on you
like pennies tossed into empty fountains of youth -
like loose change loyally saved,
built up in a piggy bank,
a compilation of broken promises you never made
becoming blood clots in my lungs.
I would say they're in my heart
but I can't breathe when I see her.
Tax season is over and my savings continue
to drain -
they sit at your doorstep
waiting to be cashed in
for what I thought was an investment
but has become a liquidation of my entire being.
Empty wallets haven't caught wind of my addiction,
but the pennies on the ground talk.
Found heads down, I give them a voice,
and they, too, drown with the rest.
May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 9:01 PM UTC
When Robots ruled And “The Guardian” went into liquidation
It will be a strange quiet world when robots take over
there will be no middle-class the ranting of the eggheads
in the Guardian will cease their utterings will be quaint.
At the time when robots were perfected a pill emerged on
the market made women and men infertile until they
wanted to start a family, alas, it was irreversible and it only
Takes a generation. The poor was working for the robots
picking up trash such as screws, the streets were empty
and cars were obsolete.
Some robots that had received too much learning wrote
Books to each other – as they did now- and had literary
reviews, but since each book sounded like another down
to the ****** “,” it fell out of vogue, so much academia
and no one to buy their books. At the same time as it was
discovered by the human workers that when a friendly
robot accepted a glass of beer it made a summersault, froze
and became a piece of junk leaking oil.
The fight back began the robots had not been programmed
To tolerate Alcohol, the Achilles heel, and the workers were
Jubilant waved flags
No longer should robots- any robots with mechanical learning
whether university or not- to rule over them.
Apr 4, 2017
Apr 4, 2017 at 1:06 PM UTC
Chew the water, and don't breathe the air
You weave Apocalypse in your loom
You paint Armageddon on your easel
Black watercolour
Made from human ash
Bombing in the microwave
The embers will die, and the winds will cease
Like the fingernails of a corpse
Trudge into malevolent oblivion
Convinced by the impotent fallacy of happiness;
Generation Nuclear Apathy
Generation Destiny Liquidation
...And the minute counter ticks away...
Tick
Tock
Tick
Tock
Eliot was wrong
This is how the world ends
This is how the world ends
This is how the world ends
Not with a whimper
But a bang.
Mar 4, 2014
Mar 4, 2014 at 4:23 AM UTC
Like lions licking lacerations
Limp-lipped, lucid lamentation
Loyalties lax, love's liquidation
Lapping lust's lye lemonade
Like lemmings, leaping liberation
Loose-limbed, lurid lachrymation
Learning love's lone limitation
Life: liars lie, lovers lay
Jan 10, 2017
Jan 10, 2017 at 7:44 PM UTC
I think we're going extinct
I hate to even blink
...
I remember when we were in sync
But things changed
We will act strange over change
Being caged and attached by chains is voguish
Are we hopeless?
Why can we polish our pinky rings
But leave rust on our linkage chains?
Our words don't bond anymore
Our words are shackles
Our words are like crooked spurs
And unbalanced saddles
Yeah It travels
But lies are to be told
Only to smear what we really withhold
I think that we're going extinct
I hate to blink
As my eye lids flicker
More and more existence spills from our mankind
Man-kind
We're turning into the kind of men
Who emotionally melts when we see celebrities
Where's our rectitude?
I think we're going extinct
I hate to blink
Where's my natural woman?
Every time I twitch
More and more she accepts the word *****
And in no time a guy can become exposed to her hips
Where's our morality?
Are we going to expire
All because we create our entire empire with desires?
Desires and thirst that require us to hurt
We smile and we smirk
We loath from good work
We poke at nerves
We drown our minds to swerve
We absorb potion
Only to tranquil our motion
We indulge in copulation
With a stranger
But somehow for consolation
...
We are endangered
We are a few more trends away from complete annihilation
Eradication
Liquidation
Obliteration
Cancellation
Our tendencies are cancerous and if we keep being patient
We will need medication
I don't feel any radiation
To not become subject to our decimation
I think we're going extinct
My instincts tell me that
Though we're a percentage and a contributor to this nation
We are approaching ruination
My instinct senses that I am one of the few who mentions devastation
And if I blink one more time
And if we keep wasting time
We'll be wastage
We
You and I
We'll be ejected from the race
And they'll use a prosthetic ethnic affiliation for our replacement
Can we come together with cooperation
Resisting this operation
May we all stand up
Before they go through with this amputation !
Blink
Lets see
Aug 10, 2013
Aug 10, 2013 at 5:55 AM UTC
Plastic liquidation
With god as my witness
The only cure with
A grave land as your living space
This forgotten life style
Left you as a ******
Only to your sick Aids ridden fantasy
Ballooned music maiden
May your curls grow to collapse
A broken hilarity
In an overused vessel
Nov 30, 2010
Nov 30, 2010 at 11:43 AM UTC
a bowl of black beans / your mother sitting on the other side of the kitchen / this liquidation of self / you would be something / anything / anyone / if it could make you safe / the black beans taste like nothing now / you aren’t crying but you’re **** near it / your mother makes a honey sweet remark / won’t you stay alive / and / eat your beans then we’ll leave / and you don’t have an answer but you listen / you are pleading with the voices to let you eat the beans and make them taste less like bleach / your mother bleached your hair when you were fourteen and you bleached your skin at sixteen / you drank that same bleach from that same bottle three days after your sixteenth birthday/ but this is a bowl of beans and it tastes like that time / smells like that time / your throat coughing up blood and your body wretching to *****
a bowl of black beans / your mother takes that bowl and washes it out in the sink / you still have that hoarse voice from imagining it tastes like bleach / you still have that ***** wretch instinct because of how much your throat stings / then mother says; you’ll stay with them for some time / as if that makes anything better / a drive into the emptiness of a psychiatric hospital / a place they’d sent you when you were ten because you were so angry and so depressed / you break when the blue tiles turn to ocean and you drown / you break when the red tiles turn to fire and burn your toes / you are hungry again / but you know everything you eat will taste like bleach.
you can’t sleep because the bleach is still on your tongue / you think of that bowl of black beans / your mother sitting on the other side of the kitchen / maybe you’d see her smile again / maybe you’d be broken and be able to exist comfortably / don’t you want to survive to see that?
you answer / no / i’d rather die than be patronized.
May 26, 2017
May 26, 2017 at 2:34 PM UTC
The Great Falls,
was a massive
clone of ice;
yet still
her waters
poured forth
in roaring waves
over the ebb
of the river.
Sliding into
a frozen crevasse,
down an icy bar,
I land wet,
chilled and numb
from the duration
of the decent
and the soul
piercing cold.
On the landing,
the carcasses
of industrial waste
were encased
in a frozen loam.
The giant
mill wheel
locked in place,
entombed
in a glacier
of ice.
It made
good sense
to found
this city
on an
industrious
bluff.
The Great Falls
spun the wheels
that powered
vast manufactures.
Shoots
and trams
shot flumes
of water
down
every
street.
Everyman
was a master
of his
cottage industry,
forging bullets
constructing
locomotives,
spinning
the finest silk
from the
most exotic
foreign worms.
But the machines
shut down.
The handiwork
of learned men,
entrepreneurs,
urban planners,
engineers
and artisans
now encased
in frozen rust.
Barely a tool
could be used
to produce
a product
or plumb
a line.
A simple
hand tool
could not
be lifted
without
betraying
its purpose.
A society
of useful
manufactures
frozen shut;
dissolving
into bankrupt
liquidation;
so I left
my home
on Chianci Street
and caught the first
Paterson Plank coach
to the Hoboken Ferry.
I would be in
Manhattoes
by nightfall.
The morning travels
consumed thoughts
of future prospects.
The
silk mill
forever
closed.
The industry
of my home
city,
dead.
This weaver
of fine silk
had lost
his loom.
For William Carlos Williams
From: Vesuvia, 1997
Music Selection:
Yo-Yo Ma & Silk Road Ensemble,
Arabian Waltz
Nov 26, 2011
Nov 26, 2011 at 10:10 PM UTC
This is the story of a world at war
From ‘39 to ‘45
The second world storm
It all occurred with Germany
Japan was there, the world was scared
To storm the beach of Normandy
Power struggle with no regrets
Imperialist japan with minor fits
Lashing out to focus on three
“America, China, and the Soviet please”
This led to begin in a new world war
With 2K killed at pearl harbor
The holocaust powered even more
To be ****** to death, until ‘44
June 9th, and yards to go
200 stretched from land to coast
10,000 men that made the march
Across the beach, into the marsh
A revenge that tastes so bitter and sweet
For the surprise attack, on the pearl harbor fleet
The event that took our country to war
It paid with bloodshed, 10,000 hearts torn
And when D-day ceased, and the smoke parted clear
We dropped upon 2 cities
Our own 2 tears
That revenged the fallen
And vanquished the feared
The axis fleet, now defeated and gone
They dispersed their union
For ****** was wrong
And what of Japan?
Well they restored their towns
From their cities destructed…
A full 2 miles around
And to this very day
We weep for the wept
That adopted our tears
And ended up dead
296 billion in debts
At least in today’s dollars and cents
For a country whose heart
Was torn to bits
60 million…
If that’s what it takes…
To conquer the axis…
Their lives, they gave…
...And the war, they won…
...And won from their grave…
And on opposing sides?
To win or to die
Japan, Germany, and Italy reside
With 16 million casualties
They pounded on Poland
The sacked the Soviet
They fought the French
And got all the way to Greece even
They never left the Netherlands
They were the bane of Belgium
They never gave up Norway
Or the liquidation of Luxemburg’s location
They caused a sort of havoc
Everywhere they went
They threatened the world
With everything they sent
They tried to take the Jewish and the handicapped
To hell
And ended up bringing on themselves
A hellish, brutish, world
This is the story of a world at war
From ‘39 to ‘45
The second world storm
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 10:23 AM UTC
Eyes dark embrace
Fingers trace
Tied rope upon my skin
Sending sensations within
Answering anticipation
Sensual stimulation
Nonverbal communication
Lips caress
Fingers fondling *******
Softly stroking
roughly poking
Take me, please
Massaging my mind
Don't think & just unwind
Foreplay’s creativity
Secret sensitivity
Holy Intimacy
Spring ecstasy
Emotionally
Physically
Our bodies become one
Lips hungrily tasting
Like a brush
Hush
Imagination overload
Thrusting
Trusting
I am only yours
Surrendering with heart & mind
With each deep powerful grind
My body’s liquidation
Within my walls saturation
Bodies swaying
Circulating
Gyrating
Intimate heat
One sensuous beat
Legs spread wide
As my tongue travel inside
Love intertwined
Souls forever aligned
Just you and me
Bound to my loyal devotion
Our bodies move in perpetual motion
Increase
Then cease
As we release
And we hold each other until day
As we love in our own special way
Feb 26, 2019
Feb 26, 2019 at 9:30 PM UTC
you’re not adams apple
the fruits from tree of the knowledge
of good and evil
in the centre of the garden of eden
in genesis
yet at you
the round oranges of this afternoon-town
i stare
and my pate gradually
becomes pregnant
the wind that comes after
having a touch of your lips
puts the waging of its tail on my forehead
and my guava-leaf begins to melt
thus my hardware-business is going
into liquidation
the physician to the king is telling
it’s the symptom of an awful fever attended with
the morbidity of the three humours of the body
used… and used… and used…
your smile has not yet become
stupid
so from where the lamp-posts of the
town start
there are the cutlets
and the bolster
they are not the only ones
to utter the last words
about the pill
i’m too
in this summer
trying to decorate
the gate of my cage like wedding ceremony
if any silent dew-drop comes
to prepare and feed me
my birth-day frumenty
but i’ve no tongue
at all
all over the face there are only the eyes
and to the fate of my staring-at
has ever
so much blessings been available
Sep 10, 2010
Sep 10, 2010 at 5:36 PM UTC
The Anorak diviners see
their market jolted, killed off
Already Magic numbers's 64 and 200
are side-lined and downed,
all they have are memento boxes of
once household brands ,
liquidation like implosion sees,
ISO granularity choice further compressed,
those remaining niched as Professional film
to milk the last remnant of expediency,
in the midst of adversity
they should pledge their mounts
as a salvo to tomorrow.
Earmark them, gifted for
Local History Musems
pristine images from yesteryear.
Jun 25, 2012
Jun 25, 2012 at 3:44 PM UTC
Princess
Chances are slim because
she's in another world where
She rides her unicorns high in
the rainbow fields to find
her *** of gold that's been stashed
secretly inside the blue devil
that trolls the interstate
highways, north and south
east and west beneath her.
Puffy clouds and angels
serving you, your own heart's desire,
She turns empty drinks
into liquidation for
everyone and can walk mangled in
six inch heels and tell you
the small fork is for the shrimp.
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 6:08 PM UTC
*Froom moon to Jupiter
along its constant feeling of
falling the bricks of its centuries
Aurora Borealis to Centauri
sculpting the gasps off air and breathe
We inhaled the gases
the poison of liquidation,
the water that surrounds us;
the universe.
Another planet we communicate &
hopeful we wish for.
As long as the stars
could reconnect,
recollect the dust,
the galaxy that we traces
from our palm hands &
softly cuddling each other.
Cherished every moment
from here to there, &
possibly we could
Plant the other story
cause maybe the sparks
of the stars might fall
back to where it belongs.*
Jul 18, 2015
Jul 18, 2015 at 8:15 AM UTC
~
where’s the rain
to save the day?
the silo empty,
the barn no hay.
the only pouring
we have seen
is from the counter
down the street.
gin and beer and
old Jim Beam,
the bar is full,
but glass is empty.
our men are weeping,
children hungry!
these fields that yielded
harvest plenty
under sweat of
daddy's brow,
now they’ll try’n
take my home;
state moves in
to steal our peace,
won’t leave us ’lone,
till we’ve been fleeced.
send a draught to
quench our pain;
end this drought with
drenching rain!
this to you we pray...
*“pour from heaven’s door,
indulge us with an inundation;
from the bounty of your store
deluge us with a liquidation”*
oh, keeper of
these cloudless skies,
send sweet rain
to wet these eyes!
for the lost ones
in this town,
to save this family,
save this farm,
from heartless souls
who mean us harm.
i am just a poor boy
whose cup has all run dry
no where else to turn,
nothing left to try.
flow in torrents,
pour in sheets,
send libations,
bring relief;
send the rain to
flood the street.
oh master of
the ocean deep,
pour your liquid,
pour your gold,
a’fore our children
grow too old.
no more saving
for some rainy day,
this to you we pray...
*“pour from heaven’s door,
indulge us with an inundation;
with bounty from your store
deluge us with a liquidation”*
~
*post script
the Western US is experiencing a four-year drought of
epic proportions and with water in such short supply,
family farms are burning up in the heat
with grave consequences looming large
on the not-so-distant horizon.
we witnessed this arid devestation
first hand a week ago traveling through
North and Central California, and
felt in just the tiniest way the crush
of water shortages at all her state
campgrounds. beautiful Shasta Lake
was dry except for a small stream
running through the lake bed...
how very sad; she is not the California
i remember in our last visit.*
Oct 22, 2015
Oct 22, 2015 at 12:19 AM UTC
Pierce not my skin,
Thou lancet of horror,
Which is terribly akin
To the blade of terror;
Touch nay me at all,
You dark being;
Mind, be not on call
At the bay of loony bin;
Mortality's debt is
Paid by death's acquisiton--
It's the end of business,
The final liquidation;
The assets of sanctity
Offset and save as well
Many a toxic liability
Of the soul from hell;
Weak, weary and bored
By unbroken quietus fear.
Life is unassured
By a doctor's gear.
May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 3:37 AM UTC
My first step to quest, I seek county Clare
identity lost, me feel the sea air
In Ireland I stay, a man with no country
I wonder and wander county to county
From Doolin I sail, isles of Aran
Land full of stone so cold and once barren
The locals invite for coffee and tea
I wander and wonder, life by the sea
Next in my journey, find county Kerry
Crossing the Shannon, a trip on the ferry
In Ireland I stay, a man with no country
I wonder and wander county to county
Boat man gives lesson, ‘cross lake of learning
Dock by the Abby, I find peace of yearning
Grounds of Killarney by horse n carriage
I wander and wonder, great mountains marriage
I sit in The Oar House down by the pier
Howth to host, from far or from near
In Ireland I stay, a man with no country
I wonder and wander county to county
I spy an Irish rose, sit by the sea
I know her name, ne’er for me
Admire her beauty I sit from afar
I wander and wonder, who then we are
County Meath holds the once great Raith na Rig
Where the ancients had once all danced a jig
In Ireland I stay, a man with no country
I wonder and wander county to county
I climb atop hills where kings sat on high
Same place they lay once they say their bye
A place where high kings all came to pass
I wander and wonder whom we’ve lost past
I’ll take the rocky road, the only way to Dublin
Fore long I’m found, set with the pub kin
In Ireland I stay, a man with no country
I wonder and wander county to county
Here I will find the black liquidation
Ruby red pint to wrap up a nation
Feasting we drink and laugh about strife
I wander and wonder the glory of life
Apr 14, 2017
Apr 14, 2017 at 1:48 PM UTC
Nothing but a parasite
Feasting for the veins
Thriving for a waterfall of excitement
**** it in
Without hesitation
Relax for a moment
And...release
Liquidation of thought
Runs a river of peace
To an inconclusive feeling
I'm never letting go
I am alive
I am here
Let the parasite run its course
Extermination begins at the death of the soul
Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 8:34 PM UTC
My soul was scorched.
Excavated of the soft and tender leaving the bitter and dismal.
Days after this grand liquidation sale with my gutted contents crumpled up in the remains of used tissues my ashen lips were clamoring for you, the boy who set the fire.
I had skinned myself of your touch, each day nurturing the tenderness back into my cheeks. Seeded under my renewing flesh was the devil of animosity begging me to hold on to a fragment of you.
My healing process is fueled by the grueling fire of disdain.
Even with your presence gone I seek you to be the platform of my existence
The ember of softness and genuine essence weeps inside of me, if only I spent those days searching my hollowed body for the fire simply waiting to ignite inside myself.
I realize now how repulsing and selfish I am, you pour so much into someone so they are pooling at the brim, but if that burning ember inside of them isn't properly tended and respected, their kettle will never brew.
I am sorry I couldn't have coaxed your ember
I am so sorry it had to be you
Jul 20, 2016
Jul 20, 2016 at 1:44 AM UTC
My poetry is open and bare on the examination table
While my brain falls into place in the exsanguination cradle
Pieces fit together like a monster from the old world fables
Set up to disassociate the Cains from the Ables
We're all meant to die
There's no harm in asking why
Self harm, drugs left in the arms, premeditation, self incrimination
It won't matter when we're stitched up in a Y
Theres hidden meanings in every line
A chance to put aside all the woes and keep feelings burning inside
When things are on the decline
I can write down facts and theories
Like self investigation as to why I'm feeling weary
No Overbearing intoxication here just a rough cut heart of ice melting due to overheating and slipping liquidation
Jul 25, 2017
Jul 25, 2017 at 6:08 PM UTC
The wrath to come can never be imagined;
Upon this present world the dark damnation
That'll be visited cannot be envisaged,
When the earth shall enter eternal liquidation.
And no middle place for the soul of man,
Either to heaven or to hell will it go
For his deeds his own spirit shall scan:
Condemning or acquitting him justly so.
Jan 27, 2012
Jan 27, 2012 at 3:06 PM UTC
Grace and poise
abounding.
Fear instilled
belated.
Lamented life
impassive.
Rationale in
liquidation.
A life without
proposal.
Death in all its
splendor.
Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 4:43 PM UTC
I did this for you , but you're ignoring me
this chase for attention is really boring me
I feel like an apple because you're coring me
and i want to cry out my eyes as if you're goring me
I wanna step away but optimism's reassuring me
I wanna give my all to you until theirs nothing more in me
I just wan't to love you but it seems your not adoring me
can we please converse so at least i feel your exploring me
your psyche is hypnotic and i feel as if your luring me
your eyes are so replenishing I feel like your restoring me
I really want to fly with you, your actions steady flooring me
you're bringing out the beast holy sheesh now look at roaring me
I hope one day that im the catch an soon you will be scoring me
my mind is liquidation the sensation's like your pouring me
man on everything i love i swear i hate these feelings
my torso on the ground my eyes & hope are facing ceilings
i wish i never met you why must u be so appealing
i act like i don't feel the pain the only way i'm dealing
and your a ******* thief because my heart you know your stealing
and then you shattered it like glass, emotions i'm concealing
an if you date me long enough you know that ill be kneeling
I have several layers like an union and I'm always peeling
baby if you stay with me then every part ill be revealing
i just prey and hope that i can cope and i feel faith's healing
because this pain's a mental strain and this **** is just unappealing.
SO **** THIS
Nov 5, 2015
Nov 5, 2015 at 8:25 PM UTC