"lurkers" poems
Inside…
Preachers, teachers, sleepers
Ponies, cronies, phonies
Murders, murmurs, lurkers, tearjerkers
Sexes, hexes, Pseudo T-Rex’s
Splices, spices, identity crises
Chasms, spasms, *******
Tongues, songs sung, smoke-filled lungs, décor hung
Confessions, obsessions, strange blessings
Gargoyles, rich spoils, no mortal coil
Rose windows, ruddy elbows, emperor’s clothes-
A place of chaos and a place of hope
Outside…
Jun 29, 2012
Jun 29, 2012 at 3:59 PM 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
Claus, Santa, the
Is a huge enigma to me
And probably many others
My enigmatized sisters and brothers.
Enigmatized, possibly stigmatized,
It beggars logical thought
All the confusion and pain
This concept has brought.
For over two centuries
Surrounded with mysteries
An alternately jovial and evil guy
Brought bounteous gifts, could fly!
Gave coal to the misbehaving,
Or nothing much at all, saving
All the good stuff for good kids
Who were careful with what they did.
We have read of Saint Nick
And Sinterklaas; take your pick
Of which legend blended with what
To become the guy we were taught
Sneaked down chimneys at night
It you kids didn’t sleep tight.
While this is all very typical
It seems rather biblical.
Claus’s eye is on the sparrow
So we must walk the straight and narrow
Or go down into his big naughty book
And he will ultimately decide to look
Askance at any chance of gifts for you
No matter how much begging you do
Write to his eternal rotund self.
He’s an unforgiving old elf.
And there’s that flying reindeer thing
And the way he’s rumored to go zipping
Around the entire blessed world in one night.
That, to me just never seemed quite right.
It’s bizarre and incredible is exactly what.
Do the reindeer have jet engines in their ****
And how can one tiny sleight and eight beasts
Tote those thousands of truckloads at least?
No, the whole thing sounds bogus, in its base.
And that whole North Pole/tiny people place
Where they slave on making toys all the year
And thrive on hot chocolate instead of beer?
Elves must be a rather dim gang of workers.
No union leaders? No malingerers? No lurkers?
I have tried for decades, but it doesn’t add up.
There’s too much questionable in this holiday cup.
I’m going back to the idea I thought as a child.
It’s easier to believe and not nearly as wild:
It’s Mom and Dad behind it all, it’s a big lie.
And my final bit of skepticism? I can tell you why.
The kids in my little neighborhood get given
Gifts with no relationship to how they are living.
If all this hogwash were actually true
Bunches of them would get coal too.
Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 6:39 PM UTC
Don’t be enticed by the fluorescent groping
The Outstretched hands from the darkened soot that was once a forest
The tiny lurkers that will naw at your feet,
All the while feeding powder to your flame stained cocktails
Don’t gasp as they sling shot you to the moon
Because those are not craters beneath your feet
they are just sewer holes in your brain
ice cream scoop from the tangled nerves
But my god do I wish to fade into the banana split wonderland
Diving into the sticky custard of mocked purity
I long to watched volcanoes erupt in a fortress of silence.
Oh walk with me why won’t you?
Into the masses of hands and broken toes
We will sway in unison to the outlandish beats of our mothers
The ship is calling and it’s blasting on all power
Forget your wand and come aboard.
Nov 30, 2010
Nov 30, 2010 at 9:17 AM UTC
HEY YOU! STOP, LOOK & LISTEN!
Whatever, I don't care if you pay attention
I'm prone to come, **** **** up & just leave
& yes, im well aware at the glares I receive
I'm tiny in size
But that's quite obvious if you have ******* EYES
There is more
Just wait for it, it's gonna POUR
The shadow lurkers , those who live in the darkness ..
Their PAINFUL screams forever echoing, maliciously & voiceless
They never just go away..
they just endlessly stay
hisses & shouts, salt unhealing wounds with every word
& STILL undefeated, I'm prepared to battle with what is yet to be heard..
I have no choice but to continue
**** IT! I gotta do what I gotta Do!
I won't quit, I plan to go hard & attack...
The Shadow Lurkers left me with a cold heart
& I'm giving that **** right back..
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 2:16 AM UTC
The shadows are vacant souls that roam this land,
Forgiveness, a purpose and recognition is all they demand,
They stay hidden in the dark corners of your beautiful mind,
Only to make their unforgettable appearance and corrupt it over time,
They hide within the bleak darkness so they remain unseen,
Until the moment they choose to intervene,
With your daily life, dashing from the corners of your oblivious eyes,
They long to be recognised,
This is where it begins, the sharp turning of your head signals recognition,
You choose to ignore the sudden appearance and blame it on superstition,
You begin to wonder whether what you saw was real or simply your mind playing games,
Both is the answer, the shadows lurk within your mind, whispering your name,
The shadows are real and control your mind so they can know what it is like to live,
This is how they gain their purpose following the recognition, and to them you give,
A cluster of vague memories and a bundle of insightful thoughts,
With which they converse and about your life they are taught,
Some shadows just long for a companion - your thoughts or the voices,
Others want to control you and alter every one of your choices,
Some are lurkers and stay hidden until you are deceased,
And then they discover a new mind and the cycle repeats,
Some only occupy your mind for a short while,
Some need you to suffer and some need you to smile,
Some are passed love ones and some are strangers,
Some are frightened and are seeking shelter away from danger,
Most are harmless and desire to witness emotion once again.
Whether it be love, fear, sadness or pain,
They cannot feel any emotion and so latch onto an individual who is able,
But sometimes this person’s mind is unstable,
Sometimes the person cannot deal with the mixture of voices and shadows,
And they have a fear of the unknown,
They don’t have the ability to explain the phenomenon,
And it drives them insane and this is what certain shadows feast upon,
Shadows: you see them out of the corner of your eye,
Shadows: they desire to be recognised,
Shadows: they desire freedom from the curse,
Shadows: they wish not to be stranded on this Earth.
Jun 26, 2013
Jun 26, 2013 at 6:46 PM UTC
More more mere words linger rather obviously...
obviously what could one possibly be so obliviously...
Observational objectivity detects: Lurkers lurking to linger probably cling to love's fragile edge?
An arousal of viciousness or visage of immense beauty art performance presence...more relationships steam a shore.
Balancing hearts on the in deep starburst sapphire blue floating more.
More to be revealed for shore.
More...
Oct 15, 2013
Oct 15, 2013 at 3:06 AM UTC
Showering, peeping through the curtain
Waiting for ghosts in striped camp clothing
Waiting for gas
Terror
Back to reality
Me in the rose tiled tub
Music playing
Hot water
Driving, staring at tall trees in the forest
Waiting for smoke to billow above
Waiting for the smell
Eerie
Reality
Three children strapped in
Husband holding leather covered steering wheel
Air Conditioning
This isn't my chosen voyeuristic retreat
Drenched in the ease of today
Still seeing what lurks in the shadows
Oct 5, 2011
Oct 5, 2011 at 9:18 AM UTC
A toast for the strong and valiant workers
A downpour for the lazy lurkers
A toast to the women that never give in to being the mutt
Of a dimwitted man whose head is caught in a utter rut.
A toast for the dedicated and greatful lovers
Yet a downpour to the unsupportive mothers
A toast to the successful and flourishing seed
That will grow to be a caring person as time shall lead
A downpour to the simple minded men with dreams
That are self-evident as to not going anywhere like stagnant streams
Why a downpour you ask?
Not to drown them in the purest fluid to drink
But to bring them up and deflect the opposite that makes them sink.
May the flowing gold be better than the dry and aging bronze.
Aug 13, 2015
Aug 13, 2015 at 4:23 AM UTC
The tree are whispering in hushed silent tones
Their voices carried softly by the wind
Caressing the whole forest with their hymns
Suffused in their cries, the arrogance
And greed, and vanity of men
Men that were tasked to guard creation!
Their chants deafening, echoing, increasing
In brave tumultuous waves
Growing ever louder
Pushing the rivers and tributaries into the seas
Infused in the currents
The laments of the helpless
Trampled, and ravaged, and killed
With violence and impunity!
Be wary of the axeman, the hunter, and the miner
They are lurkers, waiting in the dark canopies
Waiting for a chance to **** and pillage
To **** the forest out of its wits
Until it loses its lushness and vitality
'Til it surrenders its grip from the divine earth!
Be wary of the forest ranger
For they are the ones that orchestrates
The relentless and appalling ******
That decimates lives, hopes, and aspirations
They perpetuate the madness
They are the harbingers of chaos, they are destruction
Their charm, vile and putrid
To ever allow them recite their prose would be death!
But never despair,
The sleepers have woken
Those with quiet ears slowly hears the noise and commotion
The deniers have silenced their self-serving lips
Await that moment, when the silence is fractured
By the forest, howling in raging defiance
Justice will be swift, the wolves will be unraveled as sheep!
And only then says the oldest of the trees
Can the children of the forest roam free.
Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 6:43 AM UTC
There is a truth universally acknowledged,
that the night brings out the truth in people.
You let your guard down,
You become yourself,
Letting your true self shine.
Lunatics and solarnauts.
Vampires and werewolves.
Do you dare let yourself out and be victim of the lurkers
And sonderers of the night?
Feb 25, 2013
Feb 25, 2013 at 11:23 AM UTC
Woke up wondering why my eyes not working/
Blinds open/
windows of the soul tinted
lying upon surface/
Eye try and keep my head up in-fact
fact surfing/
Relying on a purpose/
the truth shall set you free
They lying on purpose/
Lurkers dying to prove this and that
And why your not perfect/
shocked that your shocked
Energized the Devine circuits/
Bell in the ring
Fight in
With sharks, lions, tigers and serpents/
Payed a fortune
just
for the
fortune teller to
Advise eyes not worth it/
Driven
these naysayers riding in droves/
All in favor Eye oppose/
Never did what eye was told/
Didn’t do what eye was suppose/
Eye pose/
Eye never walked the talk
Running in place faking the stroll/
A pic worth a thousand words/
Suspended in-time froze/
Knowledge is free
Check please
It absolutely
pays to know/
It cost all of me/
Truthfully
now Eye finally can see
Eternally endlessly
Now that my eyes are closed!!
Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 4:00 PM UTC
Two Stories of Minorities
Growing up in the hood as a mexican
You learn your no good and your pedestrian
Now we have trump running for president
So now "a mexican will *** offend our women" and "they're all drug dealers that dont deserve to be residents"
Growing up in the Suburbs as a african
Martin Luther King speech was ran down like a pedestrian
Trampled over by those skin colors who chose the first black President
And a african will steal anything just keep family in mention, they're all low food stamp having Residents
We are hard workers, we helped build the country
We arent shady lurkers that ship drug loads filled with some tree
We had our grape boycott like the americans at boston with their tea
In reality we're no different from the white man, despite our cultures we are human completely
We are the anchor of alliance defining us would be passion of soul
The beat to another's code, we're not different from the white man, despite past offences
We all walked the trail of tears and picked cotton
Different languages came from the Tower of Babel the immigrants alike we fell from ourselves
Feb 24, 2016
Feb 24, 2016 at 12:35 AM UTC
Every morning a beaming carmine penetrates my brain
unbeknownst to their perilous call
a smiling bird and a white heal all.
Violates me at my eyes
from green chasing lies
from wicked placed disguise.
Pencils of light at three trips
Here's the stalker of stalkers that haunt my pre dream routine.
Every evening a lustrous crimson punctures my lungs
unbeknownst to their unsafe swath
a quiet bird and a paper moth.
Vexes me at my eyes
from yellow following lies
from haughty placed disguise.
Pencils of light at three trips
Here's the lurker of lurkers that submerge my pre dream routine.
Every night a hazy velvet pierces my heart
unbeknownst to their loving provider
a dead bird and a snow drop spider.
Visits me at my eyes
from red moving lies
from stoic placed disguise.
Pencils of light at three trips
the finest sliver of silence you can imagine.
Feb 19, 2020
Feb 19, 2020 at 8:35 PM UTC
Kinda creepy
Those dark things
That hide behind you
Those shadows full of lurkers
We shine our lights
To rid ourselves of them
But they're stubborn
And when the lights go out
The shadows will be ready.
Aug 18, 2015
Aug 18, 2015 at 11:48 PM UTC
Flurries have settled
Lurkers leave fading treads
And behind locked doors
They watch in the warmth
And the crew have gone
Where the bitter wind blows
While the silent deadringer
Waits in the snow.
Aug 19, 2019
Aug 19, 2019 at 12:32 PM UTC