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"mauls" poems
who, US? by Michael R. Burch jesus was born a palestinian child where there’s no Room for the meek and the mild ... and in bethlehem still to this day, lambs are born to cries of “no Room!” and Puritanical scorn ... under Herod, Trump, Bibi their fates are the same — the slouching Beast mauls them and WE have no shame: “who’s to blame?” What is happening to Palestinian children in Gaza and the West Bank is a crime against humanity, financed by American taxpayer dollars. Keywords/Tags: Palestine, Palestinian, children, Gaza, West Bank, Jerusalem, Bethlehem, Jesus, Christ, meek, mild, lamb, lambs, kids, Herod, Trump, Bibi, slouching, Beast, American, Christians, shame, blame
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Mar 25, 2020
Mar 25, 2020 at 2:08 AM UTC
who, US?
vague games enable and our liturgies co-mingle in an inkling of the I. your mind succumbs to the soul. the rabid rain is ironic and the font you spell ' god ' with is all scrawl and scrumptious. you lump this dream into your dolphin of Delphi and squeak cute symphonies of deep brood. you choose your Oblivion. and that's how Angels kiss. they force the Word through your Animus and greet your weakness with squinty eyes and Lion's breath. you're the next best thing since that one thing that had no soul for god to play with. it never complained. you might look and you might not see what you're not supposed too. but i know you'll be happy with lemon-drops and long dark naps. that's how we do, like a crispy pillow is a cloud with a lobotomy and all my barbed wire is wine. Like i'm the king of unbearable sublime. you anoint the fallen. i spike the punch, judy. you sunshine. eulogies wet the pavement. darth mauls the halls of our peril and the dry sparrows you had no love but you had a thing that went thump when you met her. and some other cocka-mamy thing. and your narrow view of the wide ha ha and the mute " **** this " and why not? we're all caught in the same frame and the gorgons are massive. you have to elect a hero to laugh at Death with and might get a girl. you're nothing at all and that infuriates the reality you were dreamt with. you have no kin, but your family hasn't been.... you were unhinged from the stark grim and the tide pool. why do you think i say things that ain't been language but has always been lingua nova ? why would i lie ? this is the scepter of the vengeful design and the glee demons of first love sipping from a chalice of lost love with closed eyes. this is the pier and the ocean. the dime store Picasso hanging the velvet Elvis with the perfect circles with the little cube inside... aching for flamingos. or not.
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Jun 23, 2013
Jun 23, 2013 at 8:09 AM UTC
Like A Crispy Pillow Is A Cloud With A Lobotomy
vague games enable and our liturgies co-mingle in an inkling of the I. your mind succumbs to the soul. the rabid rain is ironic and the font you spell ' god ' with is all scrawl and scrumptious. you lump this dream into your dolphin of Delphi and squeak cute symphonies of deep brood. you choose your Oblivion. and that's how Angels kiss. they force the Word through your Animus and greet your weakness with squinty eyes and Lion's breath. you're the next best thing since that one thing that had no soul for god to play with. it never complained. you might look and you might not see what you're not supposed too. but i know you'll be happy with lemon-drops and long dark naps. that's how we do, like a crispy pillow is a cloud with a lobotomy and all my barbed wire is wine. Like i'm the king of unbearable sublime. you anoint the fallen. i spike the punch, judy. you sunshine. eulogies wet the pavement. darth mauls the halls of our peril and the dry sparrows you had no love but you had a thing that went thump when you met her. and some other cocka-mamy thing. and your narrow view of the wide ha ha and the mute " **** this " and why not? we're all caught in the same frame and the gorgons are massive. you have to elect a hero to laugh at Death with and might get a girl. you're nothing at all and that infuriates the reality you were dreamt with. you have no kin, but your family hasn't been.... you were unhinged from the stark grim and the tide pool. why do you think i say things that ain't been language but has always been lingua nova ? why would i lie ? this is the scepter of the vengeful design and the glee demons of first love sipping from a chalice of lost love with closed eyes. this is the pier and the ocean. the dime store Picasso hanging the velvet Elvis with the perfect circles with the little cube inside... aching for flamingos. or not.
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me and the old lady in our cabin, chillin livin off the grid livin off solar panels and psychedelic drugs roastin meat and makin sweet love. knock knock knock. i turn to her in disbelief; we live in the woods south of nowhere in a **** cabin who could that be? she huffs, shrugs the knocking intensifies so i go naked to open it (we're nudists) it's a grizzly ahhhh! i freeze but he's wearing a suit, cradling a briefcase in his paws what the **** he asks me if i'm interested in being mauled i ask him how can you talk you're a bear right and then he mauls us and then i wake up and it's just me, my bed, and my beloved *****
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Dec 1, 2018
Dec 1, 2018 at 4:41 PM UTC
cabin fever
I can see my friends' graves; their names engraved into unforgiving stone. the flowers that Sherry's mother will insist on bordering her date of death are gaudy, and I can hear the album Sherry puts on when she hangs herself, scratching out a death rattle. I can see the bear that mauls Matthew to death. I can smell the sandwiches he leaves outside his tent, I can hear his sleeping breath and my stomach grumbles in time with the grizzly's. Already, if I listen, I can hear the lack of thought pervading his comatose head. at least the bear will finish him off in a matter of minutes, and the pain will be so intense that it is barely pain at all; it's there, it hurts, but then he's dead. I shake his hand, I say, "nice to meet you." he has a firm grip. Mike, it isn't you, it's your heart disease. And it's not that I'm not attracted to you, Skye, but watching your entrails pour from a stab wound mid-coitus kinda kills the mood. I want to burn both my eyes out, Jenny, so that I can't sea you drowning anymore. Karen, I don't really care about you, or your looming and eventually lethal diagnosis of type 2 diabetes, so you can go ahead and put your hands on me.
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Apr 15, 2018
Apr 15, 2018 at 3:32 AM UTC
Clairvoyant
Away from hills and away from mills, Comes a child with no two eyes. With its tiny hands blue and small mouth bled, "There really can be no hope," they said. It cries out loud, pulling at its rags Carrying naught but stones and bones. Throwing them with vigour (aiming at none!), With its two eye sockets blind and dull. But no people are there. Naught but ghosts from antique towns Resonating through the echoes of sand and crowns, Shouting and laughing Feeling not the stones, Pretend to fall dead As they chirp, chant, and dance. ~ As the memories distort, A presence emanates from dust of broken mauls Burying the ghosts in golden holes: On beds of hard, cold, and mouldy bones Whilst bestowing the child with eyes of ghost desert rose.
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Dec 17, 2015
Dec 17, 2015 at 9:44 AM UTC
The Ghost of Desert Rose
I was the queen in quest of your dreaming teens You were in race to trace my grace of beaming beauty Your shower of love was to catch my fragrant flower Life was like amusing laser show for a major glow A fresh breeze of life I felt in your lifelong lease of love Your fast love at first sight was forthright, I saw it so Your love was on a broadband channel, I surmised, On high frequency at matching wave length you promised Love was in fairy air you craved, cared n’ carried thru’ I molded to your mauls, for I rejoiced your choice I was mild and yielding as you stepped up wielding Rendered and surrendered to your shabby game of love You left the fruit of your lust in my lap in a decade’s gap. Embroiled in undue deal, you now embraced Unhealthy wealth than wealthy health Lavish lust, peevish love and selfish life Lo, love is to collate not to collide n’ collapse I feel sad when our lad says my dad is bad My love was one popped up from heart Your love pepped up from crazy corner The kid is keen to pick up your kiss Welcome to hold me to your fold, don’t miss All I need is your towering love Not your quivering ivory tower. All I wish you is not to rewind Your tampered tape on kin akin
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Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 7:31 AM UTC
Parable of love
Monster's mingling my mind may miss more maps, more mail May mustaches might mix mills Maybe Mat might make marble masks mopping Mandies mall Men may make moats moons make mauls
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Apr 19, 2010
Apr 19, 2010 at 3:02 PM UTC
M
Was made of blood stained blades and tear stained cheeks, Bated breaths trapped between warning footfalls, The silent echo of your helpless shrieks. Children locked in church bathrooms, circus freaks, Disgraced, oh how laughter mentally mauls, Was made of blood stained blades and tear stained cheeks. We were called horrible things, worthless, weak, They drowned it out, those noisy know-it-alls, The silent echo of your helpless shrieks. And oh, the way my thoughts, they used to leak, Like poisoned water, roaring waterfalls, Was made of blood stained blades and tear stained cheeks. But you, so fierce despite being so meek, Pushing down all your words, you used to crawl, The silent echo of your helpless shrieks. Today, I fight the words I didn’t speak, And I’m sorry, I sat by, watched you fall. Was made of blood stained blades and tear stained cheeks, The silent echo of your helpless shrieks.
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Mar 8, 2016
Mar 8, 2016 at 2:13 AM UTC
A Regretful Villanelle
Homeless love. Tattered looks Paper back books Stolen moments of peace in a jungle of brick and motar Stone and deep seeded money We are the pennies of the society dropped and looked over spared a glance we are blighten a blight on a commericial society of prada bags But we wear the tattered rags of humanity best left overlooked Blaming it on the overlooked They see us as they overcooked but they come to us in need place your order,but dont give to us Pack mauls to your desire your disgust pale only to your addictive desire.. but i dont live here im just white girl passing thru.
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Jun 30, 2013
Jun 30, 2013 at 12:38 AM UTC
Homeless love
and the world will end, not with a bang but a whimper a simmer a cry a soft sound echoed through thoughtless walls a trusty hounds screams retched out through countless mauls, the humanized mother nature we've created has been branded with logos, so without us, the Starbucks oil rigs pulling black blood from our soil will collapse the fields of fast-food will be left to rot, the web etched network of roads will crack and loose luster we are the earths bad ex girlfriend, because when we go, it will sting for a bit but after a little while, no one will even know that *we where here*
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Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 8:20 PM UTC
dis-repair
The chaste heart bleeds The blood of the hunt, For a band of doe-eyed girls, String our bows, Allay our woes, We follow you like spirits. Who guides the tides? Who saved our lives? Who lights the feral forest? Our moon goddess, Diaphanous dress, Howls sorrow for the stars. A golden baby, Sunshine spun, Two archers intertwined, “Your artful sister is heaven on earth.” His arrow punctures breath, She strikes the hart, Pulls love apart And mauls them all to death.
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Jan 28, 2018
Jan 28, 2018 at 5:21 PM UTC
Artemis
They ****** incessantly in bathroom stalls. Reeking heavily of forgotten Paul Mauls. One day they both caught ***** From one of the porcelain slabs. Or so both believed. Making them relieved. Since there was no extracurricular fun. Committed on either one. Problem was, they both were wrong. Each had been a ********** for far too long.
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Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 4:13 PM UTC
A Fluid Arrangement
Playing a foghorn for self-esteem, is an ego trip. The white tiger mauls a cow, beyond the audio. You are shrinking― now at the hands of unqualified arms. No need of any funeral finale. The bones are as white as the moon.
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Dec 29, 2016
Dec 29, 2016 at 11:01 PM UTC
The Great Leap
Rage, the only constant, always there, just beneath the surface, waiting. Waiting, to pounce, to maul, to **** I don't let it. Well, I don't let it hurt OTHERS, but energy is energy, it has to be burned off, so it pounces, it mauls, it kills, me. Me, the only one who suffers, so that everyone else, can live more happily, it's a sacrifice, one I make every day. But...some days... Why? I wonder why I make that sacrifice. And then I think, about the charnel battlefields, the rolling hills of men once living, the terrors that are my birthright, and I remember. I will die from this someday. I won't be able to contain it any more, and I WILL die. But I will not falter. I may have a monster inside of me, but I am NOT a monster.
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Feb 17, 2014
Feb 17, 2014 at 3:02 AM UTC
Rage
Fight for your life Tear down your walls Walk all over your problems As every crumbling brick falls Contending every insecurity The endless battle mauls Each day it continues The same tiring brawls Battered and beaten Everyone covered in sores Hurt and defeated Dropping down on all fours Laying motionless; defeated While your insecurities still crawls
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Mar 15, 2014
Mar 15, 2014 at 4:27 PM UTC
Battling The Mirror
A broken heart fails, Stunned in the absence of it's own strength, The emotions fall to nothing and short of bliss, The hole in your being grows, The cancer of your emotions, Atrophy the love for all it's good for, The sin of your own foolish mind, Burns your blood through rusted veins, Ill of mind you stumble, Dizzy off the drug of the soul, Fiddle your fingers against the keys, The sorrow rips the music into a storm, Notes fly from the abyss inside, Monsters tear and burst through your skin, The apocalypse of your life is reborn, Masked in the ever present visage of her, She kisses your neck and mauls out your voice, She caresses your chest and claws out your breath, Torn asunder by the memory of her love, You will fade into the ashes you've become.
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May 11, 2017
May 11, 2017 at 11:28 AM UTC
The Hollow Heart Smolders
I was the queen in quest of your dreaming teens You were in race to trace my grace of beaming beauty Your shower of love was to catch my fragrant flower Life was like amusing laser show for a major glow A fresh breeze of life I felt in your lifelong lease of love Your fast love at first sight was forthright, I saw it so Your love was on a broadband channel, I surmised, On high frequency at matching wave length you promised Love was in fairy air you craved, cared n’ carried thru’ I molded to your mauls, for I rejoiced your choice I was mild and yielding as you stepped up wielding Rendered and surrendered to your shabby game of love You left the fruit of your lust in my lap in a decade’s gap. Embroiled in undue deal, you now embraced Unhealthy wealth than wealthy health Lavish lust, peevish love and selfish life Lo, love is to collate not to collide n’ collapse I feel sad when our lad says my dad is bad My love was one popped up from heart Your love pepped up from crazy corner The kid is keen to pick up your kiss Welcome to hold me to your fold, don’t miss All I need is your towering love Not your quivering ivory tower. All I wish you is not to rewind Your tampered tape on kin akin
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Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 10:33 AM UTC
Parable of love
The bear comes, mauls You, eats your innards Tearing you inside And out. Until you forget All the negatives and wish You could get back to How things were, Your mind festers in the pain.
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Jul 8, 2013
Jul 8, 2013 at 8:12 PM UTC
The bear
I am the cutter Carrying the blades to blaze a path Sniping at the ends of what life gives me I am never satisfied I cut the food to fit my fight with life giving plight Submitting To the ones who can live to love scrap Teach me how to care for unfinished crap The cutter slashes branches like my gaze upon the earth Why can't I see the beauty in daily destruction Because it doesn't reach me I have cut my reaches to you all The cutter can not feel what their blade mauls But can hear their feverish call I promise to cut no more
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Feb 20, 2021
Feb 20, 2021 at 8:20 AM UTC
The Cutter
I was the queen in quest of your dreaming teens You were in race to trace my grace of beaming beauty Your shower of love was to catch my fragrant flower Life was like amusing laser show for a major glow A fresh breeze of life I felt in your lifelong lease of love Your fast love at first sight was forthright, I saw it so Your love was on a broadband channel, I surmised, On high frequency at matching wave length you promised Love was in fairy air you craved, cared n’ carried thru’ I molded to your mauls, for I rejoiced your choice I was mild and yielding as you stepped up wielding Rendered and surrendered to your shabby game of love You left the fruit of your lust in my lap in a decade’s gap. Embroiled in undue deal, you now embraced Unhealthy wealth than wealthy health Lavish lust, peevish love and selfish life Lo, love is to collate not to collide n’ collapse I feel sad when our lad says my dad is bad My love was one popped up from heart Your love pepped up from crazy corner The kid is keen to pick up your kiss Welcome to hold me to your fold, don’t miss All I need is your towering love Not your quivering ivory tower. All I wish you is not to rewind Your tampered tape on kin akin
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Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 7:39 PM UTC
Parable of love
The entire room swirls violently, My eyes follow accordingly: around and around, They're not sound from all this hounding and, also, My mind is ragged; torn apart from reality; It's all a blur from which, I find myself nauseous in my bed. Nauseous: Intoxicated by all the ingested foulness, Which mauls my stomach without mercy, For the shy prey; It'll ravage all that peacefully opposes. Now, stabbed by roses they'll be; and bleed they shall. Puckered lips, dry mouth; The halls are clear for the blitz to come, Imposing, it hums a dreaded melody, Referencing the glum future that awaits. Meltdown: Everything is on a breakdown; The swirls become whirlpools, ******* my consciousness out; The assault from inside runs rampant; The down has sung, I'd say, and I'm feeling nauseous, and it's no wonder why: I swam too much in rotten waters, and they drowned me whole. And now, In a hole I'm perishing, Vomiting and twirling impetuously, Suffering eternally from all this disgusting uglyness.
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Sep 30, 2016
Sep 30, 2016 at 7:52 PM UTC
Nauseous
On stone currents an Angel left freeze is a wooden vessel her guilt plies, companion in trials is a Siamese, toll reflecting in crossed eyes. Floundered on rocks, vessel becalmed wings behind wrapping up stage, angled sprays leapt lives farmed, men jostling into dark gauge. Cumulus grey to brown surging green turgid seas obscure dying calls, wings of black shrouding scene, bone breaking as rock mauls.
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May 26, 2018
May 26, 2018 at 10:02 AM UTC
Vessel becalmed