"mach" poems
Even as a statue without being hand crafted by the architecture she would mach it. Molded in a sway like detail, whoever designed this woodworks would be amaized howmuch she perfectly blanded with it. A melody of nature's rhythm flowing from her hair to her shoes. She was a sensational feel.💋🌹❤️😍📳📳📳🙏🏾 Off the woodworks -Swoo
Apr 6, 2021
Apr 6, 2021 at 12:36 PM UTC
If a mockingbird went
and mocked me
while flying
just past
the speed of sound,
is he now
considered
to be
going about town
somewhere
in the neighborhood
of
Mach
Three?
Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 4:35 PM UTC
steel
oil
engineering
labor
converge
round a
Rocket 88
dead man’s
curve
prescient
precocious
capitalists
concoct
Edsels
Vegas
Chevelles
leaping
Impalas
leak
oil
staining
every
American
driveway
Pintos
chase
Gremlins
across
The Great Plains
gassing up
at
Rt 66
fillin
stations
scramblin
Midnight
Ramblers
detour to
take refuge
with Goats in
Big Sky
Indian
garages
440
Mustangs
nip
327
Stingrays
and
Mach IV
Cobras
get
snake bit
by Dart
wielding
Mopar
muscle
cars
long fins
chrome bumpers
and round fenders
still get bent in
Havana
but
Motor City is broke
nations outta gas
whole **** country
needs an overhaul
Ike Turner/Jackie Brenston: Rocket 88
Nelson Riddle: Route 66
7/19/13
Oakland
jbm
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 10:57 AM UTC
Gathering up my thoughts like the Pieces of a broken vase smashed by a careless hand,
passed times all over the floor the future not mapped out as before,
a vase no-longer holds flowers for me a life time on the floor for all to see
trying to step trough the broken shards and not cause more damage and Paine even if I could glue it back
Together it would never be the same, the cracks would show and the pattern not Mach so the broke vase will remans skated for all to see .
Was it her or was it me, was it never ment to be
it's all smashed up for all to see Broken shards scattered pieces tell me it wasn't me
Nov 9, 2011
Nov 9, 2011 at 4:37 PM UTC
Pronounced like "Mack"
I love you.
The both of you?
I hate it.
I do.
One of you knows me for who I am.
The other knows me for who I've been all my life.
Both of you are so out of reach.
Both of you hold special places in my heart.
Both of you care for me in different ways.
Both of you have seen me at my worst.
Both of you deserve to be happy.
I just wish I didn't think the both of you deserve me.
Apr 30, 2017
Apr 30, 2017 at 8:32 PM UTC
Beautiful lady
Look into my eyes
Look deep in my soul
And see how it cries
For the love that you offer
To make us two be one
Quelling these yearnings
We both have begun.
To end this desire
That fills up my heart
To become something larger
Of which we are both part
A mach made in heaven
Is what some might say
But it is much more
If I have my way
T’is to sail on the oceans
Of clouds high above
To fulfill every dream
You ever thought of
Let me hold you tightly
Please won’t you be mine
And I’ll give to you my love
For the rest of all time.
May 26, 2010
May 26, 2010 at 2:32 PM UTC
How full of animation he was
when he talked about his hopes for the future
Blood brothers like "Teddy" & "Stray Cat";
Street rockers in the night, dancing for tomorrow
How right as rain that unique freaks should
Be too classic; Like **** Floyd"** with their
Hysteric glamour
How he kept the times exciting, (wild dancers)
And the information fresh (delivery staff)
Combined like graffiti, it said
Affected rocker rabbit rules the world
Made in his own image (take it easy, naysayers)
He's got it under control
How fast they ambush members only
With a speed to exceed mach
Let's enjoy their technical tennis,
Unique cheerful events like these are
What's to come
A baby winks at him, that's how he's sure
(And he writes)
Rude beats for the creatures of the night
Like how their young minds lead a
Casual amenity life
For all the heart broken kids and lovers
A global excitement (try it you'll like it)
Doing back flips to the sock hop
He made such an interesting excuse about
Why we was late
(Only experts) mix the drinks and shine the knives
So a person created; "Artificialman"
Will save his soul,
Please don't cry, the night dew
And wet sneakers are quite enough for now
Plus the plans for the future,
The Midnight Move
Feeling the darkness and never forgetting
The joy of singing together
How full of animation he was
When he sang of his exclusive adventures
Jun 6, 2013
Jun 6, 2013 at 4:42 PM UTC
If you were an automobile,
You would be out of my price range,
Yet here you are, parked in my bed,
Complete with all available luxuries.
Your revving engine, sends a thrill through me,
When I'm sad, your wipers clear my tears.
When the night is cold, your heat keeps me warm.
I love to run my hands along your sleek chassis.
Polish up all my favorite bits.
I love you more than a vato loves his low rider.
I love you more than a redneck loves his pickup.
I love you more than speed racer loves his Mach five.
I love you more than Barbie loves her pink convertible.
You're my Hot Rod,
You take me places, nobody else can.
You and I will be riding of into the sunset,
Until the wheels fall off.
Sep 18, 2012
Sep 18, 2012 at 10:06 AM UTC
God, slow down, for real
We have almost reached mach 5
It's snowing on Mt. Fuji
Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 10:20 AM UTC
Schau hin
Wenn ich sehe, wie es vielen Menschen geht
so hätte ich gern ein Neubeginn!
Es wird Zeit das ihr euch eingesteht
dass die Kids hier so verloren sind!
Schau Aussichtslos und Hoffnungslos,
denn wir stellen uns alle blind, doch wir stellen uns alle blind
Wenn andere nichts mehr sehen dann schau hin
Denn wir sehen soviel dass nicht richtig ist,/ We see so much that isn’t right
also versperr dich nicht und hör hin
Sie sagen soviel, so vieles ohne Sinn! /They say so much, so much without sense!
Was ich will
Sind Taten und kein Wortgefecht
irgendwie hat jeder Recht
haltet doch was ihr versprecht
Weil viele Menschen so verloren sind
Ausgebrannt und Mittellos!
Denn wir stellen uns alle blind
Alle doch wir stellen uns alle blind
Warum sind wir so blind
Hin Schau hin
Vielleicht wachen sie auf und
schaun hin..
Zwischen das Glück zwischen Ruhm
zwischen all' diesen Dingen
merkst du nicht was wichtig ist?
Auf der Suche nach dem Sinn
ich mach meine Augen jetzt auf und schau hin!
Look
When I see, how may people are
I would like to have a new beginning
It´s that you admit
that the kids get lost here
Desperately and without hope
because we all act as if we are blind
we act as if we are blind
When all the others can´t see anything
look there
because we see many things that are not alright
do not avoid and listen carefully
they say so many things without meaning
What I want
is action and no battle of words
somehow everybody is right
keep your promises
because many people are lost
Desperately and without hope
because we all act as if we are blind
we act as if we are blind
When all the others can´t see anything
look there
because we see many things that are not alright
do not avoid and listen carefully
they say so many things without meaning
Why are we so blind
look there
Maybe they wake up and
have a look...
In between luck and glory
in between all those things
don´t you recognize, what´s really important
While looking for the sense - for the sense
I open my eyes now and look there (watch out)
When all the others can´t see anything
look there
because we see many things that are not alright
do not avoid and listen carefully
they say so many things without meaning
Dec 31, 2012
Dec 31, 2012 at 11:44 PM UTC
*Gasoline and matches
Combust to sudden ashes
The life flutters still
Parachute men fly away
Away to a place of yesterday
The still flutters as life, yeah
Yeah, the still flutters, yeah
Ghosts of magic
Tame their lovers
Lovers begin to disappear
Saturn savvy
Construct crafty
Happy Happy
Who is to know
Sharp eyes of moonlight
Evoke to wakeness
Preceding a restless dream
Deranged puppets
No longer puppets
The life flutters calm
Enveloped crumpets
Sent me as thanks
Of a cloud
From a crowd
Whose thoughts frigid weak
I come for thee
A Magical Ghost
Mind a'so bleak
Dry from Sahara
Ghost cry Clara
I cry Clara*
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 2:26 PM UTC
Through Rain, Sleet, and Snow
by Tom Mach
Drops of cold rain dot the landscape,
and the ice-glazed roads hate car
especially mine when
I have to pamper my tire
and coax them
not to slide off the road.
The grayish sky is also angry
as it continues to discourage me
so I turn on the radio
only to hear weatherman drone on
about a predicted historical snowfall
but I don't give a **** about that.
The hospital doors never close
and I may be needed in ER today
to save the life of a child
Mar 4, 2017
Mar 4, 2017 at 2:14 PM UTC
Who could condemn the clouds
for its dream and rendition of heaven
in vanilla cotton canopies
like steam trails from wishful
twilight's great sleeping
who could refuse the stars
that connects distant years from space
to wonderment's eyes here,
gazing up tonight agape at its mystique
when the machine mach march
of industry and city din spinning
in smog loud air - percussions down
to the edge of the shore
where silver sheen of onyx
black stillness of the water laps
licking the earth in its soft reality
the moon-glow and darkness
with its unseen places keeping slumber
in silent throes or weeping woes
still, I ache to cease the gnashing
of teeth - Barbary and conquering…
those who are unseeing in great haste
With worry and loss of a moment's look
theirs given to everything
outside themselves, mistook.
Who blames heaven, not knowing how
we lead a song yet never loving its vow?
Search for more of offerings
yet not even aware of how
blessed we are
here and now...?
Sep 2, 2018
Sep 2, 2018 at 8:02 AM UTC
Eines kaltes und schwach beleuchtetes Morgens,
wachte ich, oder so ich dachte,
zu nur einem neue unverfängliche Tag.
In Verlauf des Tages
wurde es mir schwer zu unterscheiden
zwischen Wach und Traum.
Eigentlich, jetzt dass ich dran denke,
mir scheinen sie noch die gleiche zu sein...
Die am beide
beginnen und enden
sind grenzlos und begrenzt
sind echt und Illusion
sind ganz und gar im Kopf.
In der Zwischenzeit dieses Traums
hatte ich irgendwie gelernt dass vor allem,
man muss lieben, was macht man froh.
Dann,
als ob 'ne Stimme
von hinten meinem Kopf:
"Mach schon, Junge; mach mehr davon!"
Dieser Morgen war heute Morgen.
Tja, vielleicht nicht wörtlich,
doch wahrlich sinnbildlich;
ich weiß es ist wahr
die Sonne hat noch zu setzen
auf meinem traumähnliche Tag
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 6:33 AM UTC
i witnessed it traverse across and rip the sky open
in one big swoop
like my zipper when i
**** on the curb
careless
maybe if i cared less
it wouldn’t have affected me
this meteorite of reality
crushing all i have
i am nothing
for i am to them only
what i provide and prove
nothing more
give
give
give
silently stars cry
as we all enjoy and benefit
from the glimmer and light dance
as we all look away
while they dwarf into voids
there is a man
somewhere
in some corner of some bookstore
or bar or apartment building
filling his lungs and soul
with tar
while he wishes it was
the world
which he could watch
burn
instead of himself
and as he’s practically forced to pick a side
and pick another pick me girl
another job application
a college major
a plethora of healthy habits
yet still amongst so many
and so many choices
he sits alone
what brings despair is cheered upon
what he accomplishes is
stomped
like a bug
burned to dust
at mach speeds
the same curb he ****** on
graffiti on the wall behind it
it says
“live
love
laugh”
he
definitely
laughs
has he brought this
ying and yang of life
upon himself?
why does it all seem just bad
sometimes?
why is the joy and genuineness of people
so fleeting?
why is it ninety nine percent
utter ********
and the rest just
dark matter?
only sometimes
fluctuating into a
big bang
of the real
version of us
he tries to live
he tries to love
is there really a
*******
difference?
doesn’t one just **** you
quicker than the other?
or at least feels like it?
i’d rather laugh
i’ll just face the mirror
face them all
face all of it
and just
*******
laugh
it’s all
comedy
anyways
just let
me
****
and
laugh
in
peace
and
in
pieces
now that
is what
i call
a genuine
choice
and i call it one
as i call my own
horrible hypocrisy
it’s the only
*******
choice
left
Jul 29, 2024
Jul 29, 2024 at 2:44 AM UTC
I threw a leaf off.
It waltzed itself in the air
without fear or despair.
The little green dancer dropped
dead slowly,
taking his time in the wind,
taking his pleasure with plastic bags and supermarket catalogues
admist this harsh and frosty gale.
My brave leaf seemed to ascend at times,
but mostly plummeting.
It might have reached near-mach 1 in a second,
but I could not be sure. (and I think it didn't know)
As I waved
(either to say "goodbye" or "come back")
I looked up and saw
on the balcony above me was a ***
of plant with other leaves, waiting.
May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 3:43 AM UTC
When this began we were like the perfect mach ,
You were my east my west my compass
You were my pride , looked so wise with those pretty eyes my soul sunshine.
Thats why since the first date, i knew that you were my soul mate, with you was lying my fate.
this life of sin, that got both of us in trouble ,but you always stayed down for your man ,thats why i loved you .
Now its gone , long gone, all went wrong , as a unfinished song
Your attitude was the cause , trapped in your maze of lies i knew deep inside that your friends that I despise were the reason why , disrupt was your mind
You see relationship they can be as strange as the weather but girl you changed forever thats why we can no longer be together...
Dec 6, 2009
Dec 6, 2009 at 8:55 PM UTC
Grass stuck between my young pearly whites
One record-breaking nose bleed winning
As it plays catch with my middle teeth.
Find myself crashed on the new neighbor's lawn
Must have shot right over the handlebars
Cleared their bushes
Must have been going near Mach one.
Untangle myself from the remains of my bike
Clicking my jaw
And there she is
The head-turning epicenter of my crash
A summer dress made of rainbows and promises
A question in those blue dreamy eyes.
"I'm fine", I chuckle and shrug
"I do all my own stunts"
She beams
I smile back
Traces of white
But mostly
Stuntman reds and greens.
Jul 19, 2015
Jul 19, 2015 at 12:18 PM UTC
Es wird nicht leichter
Und ich mach weiter
Bis der morgen
Weniger schwer ist
Bis mein Herz wieder
Atmen kann.
Bis ich wieder sagen kann:
Ich liebe mich.
Bis ich dankbar sein kann
Für die Luft.
Bis ich frei bin.
Bis ich ich bin.
Bis ich ich bin und
Mich nicht allein fühle.
Bis dahin werde ich
Weitermachen
Noch mehr lachen
Krach und Witze machen
Zeit allein genießen.
Auch wenn der Tag beschissen ist.
Ich geb nicht auf,
Wenn's am schwersten ist.
Niemand kennt mich so wie ich.
Niemand sieht meine Schmerzen ganz.
Ich bin deshalb für mich verantwortlich.
Ich werde mich nicht aufgeben, niemals.
Mit Schmerzen und Misstrauen schreib ich das.
Ich bin bereit mehr Gas zu geben.
Für mich und für ein schönes leichtes Leben.
Ohne traumatische Erinnerungen eben.
Ohne inadequate Reaktionen.
Mit lächeln und dem Wissen in mei'm Herz,
Dass jede einzelne Minute wert es war,
Mich zu dem Augenblick zu führen
Durch den Schmerz.
Dec 14, 2023
Dec 14, 2023 at 5:00 AM UTC
The Right believes it is right
And so by default we are left
To fight both day and night, bereft
Of the loving eye of Propriety.
Denied by those with single site
Those who once believed in divine right
Even though that was never right
Never really acceptable
Mostly reprehensible
Spouting their religious twaddle
They were always ready to fight
For what they were told was right.
The Right listens to entertainment
And claims they are news shows.
And regard the truth with amazement
But that is just the way it goes
When you are raised by dunderheads
Who think education is a waste.
Listening to people like that
Will always leave a horrible taste
For those who prefer research
And knowing what is going on.
But don’t expect the Right to see
Charlatans and say “Move on!”
The idea is to listen to the words
And find the ones you want to hear
And then parrot back the lies
Smiling broadly from ear to ear.
Every time you repeat untruths
They gain a bit more credibility
And it matters not one whit
That the words don’t mach reality.
So, the Right keeps up the fight
For anger and hatred to win.
And every time the truth arises
The Right will fight it once again.
Jul 11, 2017
Jul 11, 2017 at 3:16 PM UTC
Would you like to buy a plane that doesn't fly?
It was made in the year 1416 in what is now modern-day Yugoslavia
It was made for an African Queen named James
Upon its completion 16 days later, it was shipped over the Adriatic Sea
And arrived in Cuba 7 days after they started building it
The Chinese people there were confused by it
So they went into the cockpit and turned it on
They unwittingly set it to full throttle
It flew at mach 16 1/4 inch above the ground
The Russians chased after it on top of a flying Marshall Tucker Band .45
The Indians caught up to it in 180 revolutions
Which is 4 minutes
When they caught up to it, the Australians smashed the jet engine
And ripped each of the 7 propeller blades, one by one
Then, in the year 2004, a man named Jeff Murly found it
While he was trying to become the first person to climb Mt. Everest
With their hands in their back pockets
He tripped 4 inches from the summit
And he found the plane lying on the ground
It could have been yours for a mere 16 cents
But because of Obama's overpriced taxes,
It'll cost $77 trillion
I wonder if he'll use it all to pay off some of his debt
Or if he'll embezzle it
Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 9:30 PM UTC
This is what comes of it, living abroad
you become used to programmes
talking about what it's like to shop
somewhere & the upkeep of capitalism
that very much has downsides
just as back home, communism had.
And now your prime minister is cutting
aid to the sick, disabled & the poor
& is almost shouting
' Arbeit macht frei'
from the Westminster rooftops
& calling in psychiatrists
to label those unwilling
to work as 'mentally ill'
e.g one step from ' undesirable',
which is, ironically, a similar thing
to what they did back home
while an aged Lord takes drugs
with prostitutes & an MP
claims hundreds of thousands in expenses
'Arbeit mach frei' ( germ) - a **** slogan, roughly translates as ' Work gives freedom'.
Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 7:51 AM UTC
*I'm in a small living room with beige , sheet rocked
walls and wood floors , contemporary artwork and a Vox
amplifier
A MacBook Air for keeping my diary , a ceiling fan forming
a tune with a busy wall clock
Dust is collecting on white painted baseboards , occasionally
tumbling across the floor
A front door secured twice plus two windows with venetian
blinds , trinkets on shelves , the faint odor of pine , paper flowers ,
fragments of glass glued into containers
Peripheral shadows are moving to and fro , images are stair stepping
before me , heart racing , hands cannot find their home , memory
racing mach one , telephone is nothing but noise , windows are for
guarding against potential predators , flipping in synchronized repetition from Facebook to Outlook , from Hello Poetry to Musicians Friend
Flying with one eye closed and hoping to eventually land* ...
Feb 10, 2017
Feb 10, 2017 at 10:31 AM UTC
Slow smooth beats
easy as a wave coming to shore
on a trip around the world
a genesis of a whisper
a tea kettle song
I hum along
engaging at mach speed
the sky swallows me whole
and whisks away my joker's heart
I stand in a limitless ocean
dreaming of drinking the sky
if I could only live
as large as my soul
and fly
This soap box
becomes a boat without a paddle
and I row where the tides flow easiest
waving to the smiling faces and
the emptiness all the same
We have a good laugh,
the dice comes up snake eyes
and I tell the dealer
I'm the richest man in Babylon
although my pockets are empty
my smile remains,
that crooked deal
always at the last will make you shudder and groan
wondering why another hand
Aces come up straight sometimes
and your game
riding high for another mile long fall
The air rushes by
but I don't blush
Tell me again you don't love me,
you, you
misunderstand me
my friend
I'm the beggar on the street singin' broken tune
with a full cup and no change
slack eyed and the blues
my cradle to grave lullaby
mixed with the ecstatic wails of a lunatic
swimming in a puddle of God
the fever touched my bones
I am blameless
my throat and heart see the truth
and speak in convulsions
of misshapen glory
the bed was soaked in sweat,
can't you remember?
Repent,
with my lips
I don't know how,
and could never,
I'll eat every sin
and spit out bones of gold
I'll drink every misery
and cry tears of wild joy
I'll stand at the shores end
and dance to the crowning sunset
leaping from the last battered watchtower
drown, drown
in blue neon
psychedelic bioluminescence
Sinking further into the mix of clay
every gamble lost and won in the same throw
I can't fulfill any other destiny
a blind man walking without a stick
I just call to the birds and the bees
bring me sweet honey ambrosia
and they usually come
There's no escape
the long cold night comes too
and my body lays into another bed
with without a warm body to hold
a stream of lovers touching my hands
but we slip any grip
that tries to hold
a human master
but the end
******** ayahuasca
master blaster
Dec 7, 2017
Dec 7, 2017 at 10:31 AM UTC