"napalm" poems
phantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmal
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phantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmal
Asphalt Man
Phantasm La
Shaman Plat
Asthma Plan
****** Hast
****** Hats
****** Shat
Napalms Hat
Plasma Than
Sampan Halt
Sampan Lath
Manta Plash
A Plasma Nth
A Ham Plants
A Hams Plant
A Mash Plant
A Sham Plant
A Maths Plan
A Math Plans
A Than Palms
A Than Lamps
A Than Psalm
Aha Plant Ms
Alpha Tan Ms
Alpha Ant Ms
Lama Pas Nth
Lama Asp Nth
Lama Spa Nth
Lama Sap Nth
Lamas Pa Nth
**** Path Ms
**** Phat Ms
Natal Hap Ms
Alas Amp Nth
Alas Map Nth
Ha Lam Pants
Ha Palm Tans
Ha Palm Ants
Ha Lamp Tans
Ha Lamp Ants
Ha Palms Tan
Ha Palms Ant
Ha Lamps Tan
Ha Lamps Ant
Ha Psalm Tan
Ha Psalm Ant
Ha Lams Pant
Ha Alms Pant
Ha Slam Pant
Ha Malts Nap
Ha Malts Pan
Ha Malt Pans
Ha Malt Snap
Ha Malt Naps
Ha Malt Span
Ha Plan Tams
Ha Plan Mast
Ha Plan Mats
Ha Plans Tam
Ha Plans Mat
Ha Plants Ma
Ha Plants Am
Ha Plant Sam
Ha Plant Mas
Ha Slant Amp
Ha Slant Map
Ha Splat Man
Ha Plats Man
Ha Plat Mans
Ah Lam Pants
Ah Palm Tans
Ah Palm Ants
Ah Lamp Tans
Ah Lamp Ants
Ah Palms Tan
Ah Palms Ant
Ah Lamps Tan
Ah Lamps Ant
Ah Psalm Tan
Ah Psalm Ant
Ah Lams Pant
Ah Alms Pant
Ah Slam Pant
Ah Malts Nap
Ah Malts Pan
Ah Malt Pans
Ah Malt Snap
Ah Malt Naps
Ah Malt Span
Ah Plan Tams
Ah Plan Mast
Ah Plan Mats
Ah Plans Tam
Ah Plans Mat
Ah Plants Ma
Ah Plants Am
Ah Plant Sam
Ah Plant Mas
Ah Slant Amp
Ah Slant Map
Ah Splat Man
Ah Plats Man
Ah Plat Mans
Plash Ma Tan
Plash Ma Ant
Plash Am Tan
Plash Am Ant
Plash Man At
Plash Tam An
Plash Mat An
Lash Ma Pant
Lash Am Pant
Lash Man Tap
Lash Man Apt
Lash Man Pat
Lash Amp Tan
Lash Amp Ant
Lash Map Tan
Lash Map Ant
Lash Tamp An
Lash Tam Nap
Lash Tam Pan
Lash Mat Nap
Lash Mat Pan
Laths Ma Nap
Laths Ma Pan
Laths Am Nap
Laths Am Pan
Laths Man Pa
Laths Amp An
Laths Map An
Halts Ma Nap
Halts Ma Pan
Halts Am Nap
Halts Am Pan
Halts Man Pa
Halts Amp An
Halts Map An
Shalt Ma Nap
Shalt Ma Pan
Shalt Am Nap
Shalt Am Pan
Shalt Man Pa
Shalt Amp An
Shalt Map An
Halt Ma Pans
Halt Ma Snap
Halt Ma Naps
Halt Ma Span
Halt Am Pans
Halt Am Snap
Halt Am Naps
Halt Am Span
Halt Man Pas
Halt Man Asp
Halt Man Spa
Halt Man Sap
Halt Mans Pa
Halt Amp San
Halt Map San
Halt Maps An
Halt Amps An
Halt Sam Nap
Halt Sam Pan
Halt Mas Nap
Halt Mas Pan
Lath Ma Pans
Lath Ma Snap
Lath Ma Naps
Lath Ma Span
Lath Am Pans
Lath Am Snap
Lath Am Naps
Lath Am Span
Lath Man Pas
Lath Man Asp
Lath Man Spa
Lath Man Sap
Lath Mans Pa
Lath Amp San
Lath Map San
Lath Maps An
Lath Amps An
Lath Sam Nap
Lath Sam Pan
Lath Mas Nap
Lath Mas Pan
Ham La Pants
Ham Plan Sat
Ham Plans At
Ham Plant As
Ham Slant Pa
Ham Alp Tans
Ham Alp Ants
Ham Lap Tans
Ham Lap Ants
Ham Pal Tans
Ham Pal Ants
Ham Laps Tan
Ham Laps Ant
Ham Pals Tan
Ham Pals Ant
Ham Alps Tan
Ham Alps Ant
Ham Slap Tan
Ham Slap Ant
Ham Splat An
Ham Plats An
Ham Plat San
Ham Las Pant
Ham Slat Nap
Ham Slat Pan
Ham Salt Nap
Ham Salt Pan
Ham Last Nap
Ham Last Pan
Hams La Pant
Hams Plan At
Hams Alp Tan
Hams Alp Ant
Hams Lap Tan
Hams Lap Ant
Hams Pal Tan
Hams Pal Ant
Hams Plat An
Mash La Pant
Mash Plan At
Mash Alp Tan
Mash Alp Ant
Mash Lap Tan
Mash Lap Ant
Mash Pal Tan
Mash Pal Ant
Mash Plat An
Sham La Pant
Sham Plan At
Sham Alp Tan
Sham Alp Ant
Sham Lap Tan
Sham Lap Ant
Sham Pal Tan
Sham Pal Ant
Sham Plat An
Maths La Nap
Maths La Pan
Maths Alp An
Maths Lap An
Maths Pal An
Math La Pans
Math La Snap
Math La Naps
Math La Span
Math Plan As
Math Alp San
Math Lap San
Math Pal San
Math Laps An
Math Pals An
Math Alps An
Math Slap An
Math Las Nap
Math Las Pan
Than La Maps
Than La Amps
Than Lam Pas
Than Lam Asp
Than Lam Spa
Than Lam Sap
Than Palm As
Than Lamp As
Than Lams Pa
Than Alms Pa
Than Slam Pa
Than Alp Sam
Than Alp Mas
Than Lap Sam
Than Lap Mas
Than Pal Sam
Than Pal Mas
Than Laps Ma
Than Laps Am
Than Pals Ma
Than Pals Am
Than Alps Ma
Than Alps Am
Than Slap Ma
Than Slap Am
Than Las Amp
Than Las Map
Hap Lam Tans
Hap Lam Ants
Hap Lams Tan
Hap Lams Ant
Hap Alms Tan
Hap Alms Ant
Hap Slam Tan
Hap Slam Ant
Hap Malts An
Hap Malt San
Hap Slant Ma
Hap Slant Am
Hap Slat Man
Hap Salt Man
Hap Last Man
Hasp Lam Tan
Hasp Lam Ant
Hasp Malt An
Haps Lam Tan
Haps Lam Ant
Haps Malt An
Paths La Man
Paths Lam An
Staph La Man
Staph Lam An
Path La Mans
Path Lam San
Path Lams An
Path Alms An
Path Slam An
Path Las Man
Phat La Mans
Phat Lam San
Phat Lams An
Phat Alms An
Phat Slam An
Phat Las Man
Has Lam Pant
Has Palm Tan
Has Palm Ant
Has Lamp Tan
Has Lamp Ant
Has Malt Nap
Has Malt Pan
Has Plan Tam
Has Plan Mat
Has Plant Ma
Has Plant Am
Has Plat Man
Ash Lam Pant
Ash Palm Tan
Ash Palm Ant
Ash Lamp Tan
Ash Lamp Ant
Ash Malt Nap
Ash Malt Pan
Ash Plan Tam
Ash Plan Mat
Ash Plant Ma
Ash Plant Am
Ash Plat Man
Hast Lam Nap
Hast Lam Pan
Hast Palm An
Hast Lamp An
Hast Plan Ma
Hast Plan Am
Hast Alp Man
Hast Lap Man
Hast Pal Man
Hats Lam Nap
Hats Lam Pan
Hats Palm An
Hats Lamp An
Hats Plan Ma
Hats Plan Am
Hats Alp Man
Hats Lap Man
Hats Pal Man
Shat Lam Nap
Shat Lam Pan
Shat Palm An
Shat Lamp An
Shat Plan Ma
Shat Plan Am
Shat Alp Man
Shat Lap Man
Shat Pal Man
Hat Lam Pans
Hat Lam Snap
Hat Lam Naps
Hat Lam Span
Hat Palm San
Hat Lamp San
Hat Palms An
Hat Lamps An
Hat Psalm An
Hat Lams Nap
Hat Lams Pan
Hat Alms Nap
Hat Alms Pan
Hat Slam Nap
Hat Slam Pan
Hat Plan Sam
Hat Plan Mas
Hat Plans Ma
Hat Plans Am
Hat Alp Mans
Hat Lap Mans
Hat Pal Mans
Hat Laps Man
Hat Pals Man
Hat Alps Man
Hat Slap Man
A Ha Plant Ms
A Ah Plant Ms
A Halt Nap Ms
A Halt Pan Ms
A Lath Nap Ms
A Lath Pan Ms
A Than Alp Ms
A Than Lap Ms
A Than Pal Ms
A Hat Plan Ms
A La Maps Nth
A La Amps Nth
A Lam Pas Nth
A Lam Asp Nth
A Lam Spa Nth
A Lam Sap Nth
A Palm As Nth
A Lamp As Nth
A Lams Pa Nth
A Alms Pa Nth
A Slam Pa Nth
A Alp Sam Nth
A Alp Mas Nth
A Lap Sam Nth
A Lap Mas Nth
A Pal Sam Nth
A Pal Mas Nth
A Laps Ma Nth
A Laps Am Nth
A Pals Ma Nth
A Pals Am Nth
A Alps Ma Nth
A Alps Am Nth
A Slap Ma Nth
A Slap Am Nth
A Las Amp Nth
A Las Map Nth
Ha La Pant Ms
Ha Plan At Ms
Ha Alp Tan Ms
Ha Alp Ant Ms
Ha Lap Tan Ms
Ha Lap Ant Ms
Ha Pal Tan Ms
Ha Pal Ant Ms
Ha Plat An Ms
Ah La Pant Ms
Ah Plan At Ms
Ah Alp Tan Ms
Ah Alp Ant Ms
Ah Lap Tan Ms
Ah Lap Ant Ms
Ah Pal Tan Ms
Ah Pal Ant Ms
Ah Plat An Ms
Halt An Pa Ms
Lath An Pa Ms
Than La Pa Ms
Hap La Tan Ms
Hap La Ant Ms
Path La An Ms
Phat La An Ms
Hat La Nap Ms
Hat La Pan Ms
Hat Alp An Ms
Hat Lap An Ms
Hat Pal An Ms
La Ma Pas Nth
La Ma Asp Nth
La Ma Spa Nth
La Ma Sap Nth
La Am Pas Nth
La Am Asp Nth
La Am Spa Nth
La Am Sap Nth
La Amp As Nth
La Map As Nth
La Sam Pa Nth
La Mas Pa Nth
Lam Pa As Nth
Alp Ma As Nth
Alp Am As Nth
Lap Ma As Nth
Lap Am As Nth
Pal Ma As Nth
Pal Am As Nth
Las Ma Pa Nth
Las Am Pa Nth
A La Pa Nth Ms
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 9:05 AM UTC
I had Joe Willie from jump. The Jets were off the chain
Baltimore benched Johnny U cause he knew the game. And played it too.
The AFL was full of bells and whistles.Speed kills
Three yards and a cloud of dust. Get real coach. We shootin rockets to da moon. High tops . Cmon pops.
Change the guard.
Them people ain't done nothing to me said Ali.
Da Nang ain't my thang. He was the greatest. Still is.
The Haight was great. Oh yeah Kent STATE.
1968. Open the gate to the house of the rising sun.
Joplin. And Jimmy. Marvin and Tammy.
The Doors and Hair. ****** in the air
What rhymes with Agent Orange...... Nothing.
Oct 4, 2012
Oct 4, 2012 at 1:16 AM UTC
Long days seem so much longer.
Distance does not make the heart grow fonder.
You’ve conquered the empire of my subconscious.
Your crusade so short,
Yet I hope your reign continues for eons.
We’re far past passive flatteries,
Instead, we fill each other’s hearts with vows.
You mean them now,
But what about a few months?
What if you decide I’m not what you want?
The torment I am slowly approaching,
Consumes my distant soul.
I can hear the sounds of futuristic loathing,
From when you decide this love has taken it’s toll.
So tell me.
How can I pay this inevitable toll?
How can I save us from Cupid’s malicious tyranny?
His arrow is too far lodged within me,
I cannot remove it.
I can only push it farther and farther
Into my heart until it falls out of my back.
But this arrow, trenchant.
Cupid, the sharpest of marksmen.
Yet colorblind, he is.
He sees not what colors his targets represent.
He draws his bow for the pure love of marksmanship.
Sometimes, yet not often,
He will hit the intended target.
But the odds are scarce.
His subjects are often punctured,
And connected to one whom reciprocated Fate’s desire.
Yet this time…
This time…
Cupid must have hit a target of Fate’s approval.
For thrice he has missed.
This time He and Fate are in sync.
This wound may stretch over time,
But the arrow shall remain firmly lodged within my *****
***** and immovable.
Until you kick it through my backside.
But until then,
I can only endure.
I can only be woo wounded.
I can only survive,
Another ambush of the militant called Cupid.
But I will do it for you,
For by you,
I’ve been so divinely seduced.
Wooed by your lips.
Not by your kiss,
But by the music,
Which your mandibles so express.
I desire not to seal this wound,
But to evade its’ repercussions.
For I have endured a similar wound thrice.
He is winged as if an angel,
Yet Was Lucifer not once an angel as well?
Cupid is an impostor.
A spy of Agony, himself.
He prays on the young, the old, the strong, and the weak.
He cares not who he obliterates in his crusades.
He is a bloodthirsty heathen.
He makes scoundrels of Saints,
And Harlots of Housewives.
Saint Valentine is no Saint.
He is Satan’s nightmare.
At first, his arrows are ecstasy,
But like a cancer,
His poison-saturated arrows
Seep deep within every crevice of your body.
They consume you as if enriched with ******
And eventually rot within your *****
Until it is nothing but dust and a memory.
One day I will assassinate Fate’s Malicious militant,
The one we call Cupid.
Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 1:25 AM UTC
Blindsided by a rhinoceros.
Tendons, muscles, unraveling. I can't do this any--
Glitch, system failure, shutdown
Restart, blue screen, flashing cursor
Epileptic shock. Epinephrine injected
Command line. Run:
Beautiful flying objects thrown violently.
Don't open this door! Kiss me hard
And not in a good way (if you remember how),
Like when fishes try to breathe on dry
Land on jagged Rock
Climbing without
Gears spinning and clanking
*** and pan. (Glass and sand)
Sizzling in this artificial sun
Created by brainwaves soaked in
****** and LSD and yellow cake uranium
Ghostriding patterns erupting like
Stop. Fail. Restart.
Detecting equipment...
No input present. How will you communicate?
Try again. Restart.
Password required.
Why don't you eat?
These tears are making my face numb.
Put this in your arm.
Trust me, you'll love it.
You'll have Tesla coming out of every orifice.
Dancing physics, matryoshkas.
You can deny the existence of a God and live,
But if you deny the existence of gravity...
Well, just try and walk off this cliff.
"These thoughts are so scattered.
I don't even think they're mine."
Those memories? They're not yours.
They belong to your master's daughter.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
We're Replicants.
We boot up, we shut down, we most definitely restart.
Viruses make us sick and sometimes break us to the point where we need new hardware.
Sometimes they break our firmware and we need to wipe.
We have command lines to perform actions, and registry keys to keep memory stored of the things we learn.
The world is our power supply,
and when we boot up in safe mode,
like
some
people
do
every
day,
we only use the bare minimum of our potential.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I must be dying, I'm only this awkward when I'm dying.
Connection timed out.
Feb 17, 2011
Feb 17, 2011 at 7:26 PM UTC
There came quiet
the colors of your cinnamon skin,
its taste, persimmon
spread in red syllables
and quicksilver spills
in the folds of this tickled silence,
Laden with prophesy
the white thought of love
leaps through the tamarack pastures,
suet to the shadows of dahlias, flesh
you say, is water
and its symmetry, a penetrating
sound of pure ebullience,
Love, in the pale baton of light
you coax from cognac eyes,
open my veins to every thorn in the garden,
rumors of rain,
say nothing and endure,
Spread over panes of glass
where butterflies drown
in the sweat of our charms
and moths drop from the true color of lunacy,
cold depths lapse softly into my flesh,
I hurt, in that quiet shatter of light,
and from moth-eaten thighs
you soak the ****** of earth
with velvet tears and lavender,
spread its dark balsam to quell the quick faith
with sighs, as reluctantly,
the soul speaks what the body has written,
and gives-in to its asylum....
Jan 20, 2013
Jan 20, 2013 at 1:20 PM UTC
the destroyers are out to destroy
they are the heat of the night
napalm-burned bodies trembling in the jungle
they are bullets nestled silently into the back of one's head
babies dangling from their mother's limp arms as
she builds herself a new body
made out of the countryside & the trees & dynamite
and she will bring the explosion at dawn
i could fit the memory of last night in a wine bottle
i fell asleep in the dumpster and you kissed me with your wine stained lips
in the morning i hoisted the sunrise into a wheelbarrow and headed west.
now i don't know who or what i am
all i need is a soapbox to stand on
or a cliff to climb
a little solitude
i need to be regurgitated as smoke
hanging over three lanes of asphalt
i need a valley with soft green carpet
and a pretty girl's adolescent thighs
i need my face shoved in her *****
i need the enormous bliss of a long afternoon
i need to find the intersection of
our intimate streets.
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 2:06 AM UTC
Blindsided by a rhinoceros.
Tendons, muscles, unraveling. I can't do this any--
Glitch, system failure, shutdown
Restart, blue screen, flashing cursor
Epileptic shock. Epinephrine injected
Command line. Run:
Beautiful flying objects thrown violently.
Don't open this door! Kiss me hard
And not in a good way (if you remember how),
Like when fishes try to breathe on dry
Land on jagged Rock
Climbing without
Gears spinning and clanking
*** and pan. (Glass and sand)
Sizzling in this artificial sun
Created by brainwaves soaked in
****** and LSD and yellow cake uranium
Ghostriding patterns erupting like
Stop. Fail. Restart.
Detecting equipment...
No input present. How will you communicate?
Try again. Restart.
Password required.
Why don't you eat?
These tears are making my face numb.
Put this in your arm.
Trust me, you'll love it.
You'll have Tesla coming out of every orifice.
Dancing physics, matryoshkas.
You can deny the existence of a God and live,
But if you deny the existence of gravity...
Well, just try and walk off this cliff.
"These thoughts are so scattered.
I don't even think they're mine."
Those memories? They're not yours.
They belong to your master's daughter.
I must be dying, I'm only this awkward when I'm dying.
Connection timed out.
Jan 14, 2011
Jan 14, 2011 at 12:53 AM UTC
She's daffodils and morphine,
stimulating the heart to pulse precarious!
She's the tender cannonade of
lovesick ******
She's the trapeze wire
in a thunderstorm!
and by god
the thermonuclear bomb
of this generation!
Darling liberty
enkindle
me
cruelly.
Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 9:42 PM UTC
The best mistake I ever made
Was opening that tattered black book
There I sat in a pub
On a mission to forget the world
6 or 7 drinks in
and a bartender all to happy
To pour what ever the roulette produced
thumb, thumb, flip
flip flip
Stop
Category is shots
To the new friend next to me
"why yes, I am to get **** faced"
"oh, you came here for just an occasion"
"well dear sir if you are brave enough next ones on me"
"Hot **** he exclaimed
As I close my eyes and say a silent prayer
I slowly count 4 pages
and place my finger on the page
I call Gwendolyn over and request
With eyes closed the item of my demise
***
She cried
"I love ya but I won't do that to you"
I slurily open my eyes and focus
MEXICAN BLACK JACK
1 part tequila
2 parts whiskey
151 floater
"Double Shot"
I think out loud
whats a lil' ta'kill-ya?
vhiskey? bah.
151 it's just a floater ppppssssshhhhhhh
After a few minutes of convincing
With many a hoot and holler
From my new friends
She takes my keys and reluctantly agrees
Even kindly offers me a chaser and some limes
I will not forsake the liquor gods
Ever get a whiff of turpentine and diesel?
Well that could be gardenias compared to this.
I sit in silence sniffing it
eyes closed lapping at it with my nostrils
I look over at my new buddy
"well chuckles it's now or never ready for this lil' endeavor?"
"Well **** he muttered "I'm a man of my word"
"to life" I exclaimed
head back as that little bit of ******
started it's course
over my tongue into the throat
(why are my sinus' burning?)
don't breath boy
(you know better)
don't
you
eyes pop
and just on cue
flame ever rendering flames
I'm not blind
I'm not blind
I'm not blind
ok I was just squinting
really hard
I look over and my new friend
is now drinking my free chaser.
my game my pain...
Hey Sven leh's go again...
It's a good thing she loves me
I complain to no one
if she hated me I don't think I'd drink here.
2
hours and
4
shots later
I needed a nap good thing the loo was warm
I salute you Sir BlackJack and when I call your name
It's never in vain
Mar 14, 2010
Mar 14, 2010 at 11:56 PM UTC
Another day, another hour spent looking at cadavers,
Surprisingly fun, and suspiciously fresh bodies-
"Hey Mrs. Johnson, what do you think John did with his life?"
She gave me a look that didn't seem too pleased at my inquisition.
Or the fact that I named our body John.
Morbidly, I thought she looked at me like a zombie would look at our friend John like a cold cut subway sandwich,
Although I figured if I were a zombie,
I'd prefer my meat fresh, and not embalmed
with formaldehydes and ethanol.
"That thought seems inappropriate and not respectful of the medical sacrifice 'john' made " she said dripping with in my opinion too much sarcasm for me to NOT respond too.
"Well, John is dead, I don't think he's getting offended anytime soon," I retorted.
Her smile contorted like the prudish smile John offered me in support.
"I'm not worried about offending the corpse as much as I am the ghost, and this Lab will NOT be haunted under my watch"
(Her pride in her wit inflated much like Johns body inflated with decomposition and bowel gases.)
I apologized internally for the comment and action I was about to make-
"This medical dictatorship has to collapse sooner or later-
and I still want an answer too my question"
And with that,
I took the nearest scalpel to his bloated stomach,
and watched in disgust and glee as everyone else ran for cover amongst the ****** of stomach contents and Johns final retribution in death.
I got an A+ in that class.
Apr 5, 2021
Apr 5, 2021 at 3:25 PM UTC
in the quiet
between the metal madness
of flesh being ripped from young bones
the watching and waiting
the stinging eyes
the flaring nostrils filled
with the sounds
of ****** painted flesh
there is a cool liquid silence
that comes with
the token tokes we take
as we pass the golden bowl
those times when we forget
we could flick a switch
and rock and roll
rock and roll
with psycho-delic cassettes, or
full metal jackets, though
neither allows us to see
there are times of senseless silence
and lost lizards lounging
on dew dappled leaves
in mornings after
the crushing steel
the fatal fingered agony
we sewed and reaped,
there
is
this
quiet,
this still green scent
the lizard and the fruit
the green promise of tomorrow
that we may erase
with our screaming toys
and deadly ploys
but only after we awake
from this smoky drifting dream
Mar 1, 2013
Mar 1, 2013 at 1:21 AM UTC
mud-
stuck in the sole-ridges.
burning sun in amber petrichor
you suddenly feel infinite
skipping, humming
****** puddle,suicide note)
and then a body underneath you
in plasma, in blister, in blood.
never let me drown
(you keep me burning on)
i´m mud
subtly stuck in
rubber bridges.
started singing with the kids in park
but that swore i could hear them screaming
Oh God, Oh God
These footsteps break my silence
Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 6:42 PM UTC
All weapons of
the fates you've sealed
Are no match for
this pen I wield
The power to
articulate
Ticking rhyme bombs
to detonate
The conflicts waged
gambling mankind
My perfect hand
is treaties signed
Hellbent hounds pray
like dogs, I hunt
Frontline this notebook
battlefront
With metaphors
of mindless drones
Like similes
to brainwashed clones
Whose C4 booms
and IED's
Can't build bridges
like ABC's
Or tear them down
with death regimes
By rusting through
the war machines
Flamethrowin’ my
verbal grenade
With ****** noun
scorched-earth tirade
On militant
cold-blood elite
King cobras know
I'm packing heat
Seeking missile
resolution
Winged raptor
devolution
Prehistoric
barbarism
Literacy
cataclysm
Stockpiling
extinction bones
We're cavemen carving
fallout stones
My Hiroshima
prose explodes
With nuclear
bushido codes
Released from my
katana's ward
To free my press
from shogun lord
Oppressing haiku
imagery
And samurai
epigraphy
Expressions of
my ronin soul
Omitted by
the daimyo
Satsuma is my
poetry
My final draft's
Nagasaki
Ink cartridges
strapped 'round my neck
I print no charge
or background check
And ****** every
live round free
Of innocent
blood elegy
And killing sprees
of gunned-down news
Domestic violence
black and blues
A Number 2
pencil dependent
Obsolete
lead-head amendment
Open carry
shoots a blank
Empty shell case
at my think tank
So grip this peace
then **** and pull it
**** my diction
write the bullet
Oct 8, 2016
Oct 8, 2016 at 2:10 PM UTC
the wind whispers to you in furious ways,
ominous notes, like a dusty violin
stenciling finality into the air.
the percussion
of foot-soldiers trembles the grass.
you have grown, my war-child,
from the days of ****** tea parties
to a diva guerrilla,
terrible and well-rehearsed,
your bulleted libretto close to your chest--
and as trumpets sound in the offing,
the curtain draws back.
AK-47, pizzicato--
gasoline breeds fire, incinerates woodwinds,
the wine of the coloratura soprano
melts into blood.
witch, ***** daughter of gunpowder,
bella contralto, your
deep and tremulous vibrato is a
grenade,
and as death crashes to a crescendo,
mortality in the tin frequency of cymbals--
the only armistice
is annihilation.
Dec 4, 2013
Dec 4, 2013 at 10:27 PM UTC
Children, gather round
Your second parent calls
A simple box
Wooden and metal
A face of glass
Adorned with two knobs
Take your seats
And take off your shoes--naughty!
Elbows off the table
Legs crossed, hands clasped
Black and white
Levittown
Like your mary janes and stockings
Your president birthed
And mourned
Mother’s in the kitchen
The window outside your little world
Is black and red but not white
Malcolm X, and all the rest
Standing up for their territory
Little girl, the country’s changing
Pick your daisy
We’re not crazy
The bombs come closer every day
Haven’t you seen Castro
And our fiascos by the bay?
Great Society
Social Security
Aid for the old and poor
Dinner’s ready
Mother’s specialty
Credibility on a plate
Crudely disguised
Plastic, fantastic, and uniform
Yet your mind is so hungry
That you eat it all the same
And give it no thought
The window’s widening
Its light reflected
On that glowing omniscient face
Color! Color!
Bright and vivid
Dancing at your fingertips
Brother’s gone off to Nam
Off with your skirts, your stockings,
Your mary janes,
And that awful ribbon in your hair
Burning dope
The rainbow bathes you
In its splendid glory
The birds in the sky
Like rolling thunder
Hawks tearing at the doves
****** falling to the trees
Agent Orange
Fire, death, destruction
Where’s your meal now?
Johnson stumbled,
Faith has crumbled
And so have the foundations
Of your enclosed walls
Bobby’s groovy--
No--he’s gone
And King’s dream
Escaped with his last breath
White rabbit,
Gentle rabbit
Sing your peace
The country’s ablaze
At home and away
Stand your ground
Chicago, Ohio
Each one’s a battlefield
Time for dessert--
Licking lollipops
LSD
Clear your plates
For a second course
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 10:04 PM UTC
The sky looks like cigarette ashes in a puddle of milk,
and I, almost 22, am unsatisfied that I have not won a Pulitzer.
And I, on the borderline of delusion and confidence, am unsatisfied I am not crazy or cocky enough to submit to The New Yorker.
I hear the voices of the pastors,
telling me that God heals all.
They say 'He' is the only absolute.
The people raise their hands towards the water-stained ceiling,
as if He'll push his arms through the copper-colored scabs and save them.
Grabbing their wrists and cooing,
I am the remedy to the anxiety of death.
I am six foot one and French, Irish, Cherokee,
some sort of Anglo-Saxon,
and a lost **** in a drowning garden.
I think about all those who had to ****
in order to make my cheekbones,
eyebrows, lips, and ****
I think about how I'm good at *** and bad when it comes to forgiving too easily.
I wonder how I can sweat on another body,
but only feel naked when I have to be myself.
I watch the elderly chant words:
****** ****** **** and Half-Breed.
I study if their dry lips reflect the hate in their eyes.
Not all are like this,
but I am surrounded by tables of them,
as I pretend to be Christian,
just to get ahead.
I don't speak,
just sit like an unfilled bubble,
waiting to be marked out by graphite.
I feel like a **********
I wish I had a Pulitzer.
The sky looks like a stretched grape,
covered in kisses of ******
And I, white American conformist,
am unsatisfied
that I have succumbed to the American Dream.
I wish I had a Pulitzer,
I wish I had my mom and dad.
Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 2:56 PM UTC
Helicopter water ballet
And Charlie's on the grid
Front and centering feng shui
Choreographed in the fields
Where ****** sticks to kids
War is the fashion
That never wears out
Smell its smoke
Sickly sweet and orange
In the early decay of morning
Nov 19, 2019
Nov 19, 2019 at 2:27 PM UTC
The voice burnt upon my brain
I wanted to speak, to be alone
But it was like a
Candle
Flame
That grew to
******
Scorching my mind
It was the darkness that
Encroached upon my
Every thought, desires
Twisted
Perverted
Darkened
By this voice that's not mine
In the depths of my mind it
"Shrieks"
My ears permanently ringing
You have imprinted on thoughts
"I don't want"
"I do want"
"I don't know what I want"
Stop this trickery upon my mind
I am possessed by a
Whisper
That spoke untruths that
Shouted
Screamed
Silent
Is my voice now
"This voice is mine"
"The voice you knew is no more"
I'm screaming through my iris,
The window to my soul
Will any one hear my silent voice
This voice that speaks is not know my own
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 7:13 PM UTC
The world says that hope is feeble.
That it's like an ember buried in the ashes of a quenched fire,
Tiny but glowing, fragile in the vastness of midnight.
But I think that hope is truly terrible not because it is easily extinguished, but because it ISN'T.
Hope is no danger, really, if it flares and fades like a little flame snuffed by a stiff breeze, but no.
Hope is underneath.
Hope lingers, long after the wreckage has been gutted.
After everything has been burned to ash,
After every cinder has died out there, and all that is left is a charred skeleton on the scorched ground and a pile of ashes,
After even the blackest ruin is once again cold, hope lives beneath.
An underground blaze ready to rise again at the smallest hint of fuel.
An errant twig, not yet blackened by flames, falls light as a feather, and ignites before it even hits the bed of ashes.
Hope LINGERS underneath, ready to pounce.
It waits.
It sticks around like ****** sticks, and you just can't get rid of the **** stuff, no matter how hard you try.
Hope CANNOT be killed, in some instances.
And people would go on and on, in their ignorance, in praise of such bravery,
Of such a courageous little match struck against the face of the night like a mockery,
But it's just not true.
The way a fire lives on beneath the ground of the places it has recently seared and withered
So that everything must be drenched before it is at all safe to step nearby,
Hope sinks below the ruins of the soul and burns slow and white hot.
Embers are not feeble, they are the hottest part of the fire,
They bite the deepest and they hold on with barbs beneath the skin, waiting.
Hope is supposed to be a pleasant word, full of righteousness and pride and purity.
But that's not what hope IS, only what we intended it to be.
What we wish it was.
Hope is a human concept, and as with all human concepts, it was created in perfection and evolved
Like a virus, took on a life of its own,
And became something altogether different and more menacing than it was ever meant to be.
Hope can keep you going, or it can slowly cook you.
It can sustain you, or poison you, for an entire lifetime.
Depends, you see, on just what it is you're hoping for.
Hope for a brave impossibility, and it's grand, yes!
Hope for a deceased dream, a buried love, a second chance, and, darling...
Hope kills.
Apr 23, 2013
Apr 23, 2013 at 7:37 PM UTC
this is the news: a strange to do with all strange. some other kiwi in the hissing bliss of a fine day.
the spoils of bounty are ludicrous in disarray. a jumble of lumpkin, festooned in prayer-wheels and Tibet.
a fountain of open hands.
on the brink... on the terrace of counterfeit pantomimes
a man of days
darning socks and ultraviolet, with quasars for aspic.
a drunk pirouette -
bereft.
love is the one jungle you know when you're lost, and the last thing that made sense. All day.
the spoils of bounty are numinous, always. a trundle of frump-kin, immune to what feels like a guess.
" i refuse to sell my daddy's ranch! "
if you blink... i might tell you where you lost your mind.
an ace of spades
a Goldilocks and ultra violence, with ****** for aspirin.
a defunct smidgen
of less.
Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 1:18 PM UTC
Everybody wants to know why he couldn't adjust
Adjust to what, a dream that bust?
He was a clean-cut kid
But they made a killer out of him,
That's what they did
They said what's up is down, they said what isn't is
They put ideas in his head he thought were his
He was a clean-cut kid
But they made a killer out of him,
That's what they did
He was on the baseball team, he was in the marching band
When he was ten years old he had a watermelon stand
He was a clean-cut kid
But they made a killer out of him,
That's what they did
He went to church on Sunday, he was a Boy Scout
For his friends he would turn his pockets inside out
He was a clean-cut kid
But they made a killer out of him,
That's what they did
They said, "Listen boy, you're just a pup"
They sent him to a ****** health spa to shape up
They gave him dope to smoke, drinks and pills,
A jeep to drive, blood to spill
They said "Congratulations, you got what it takes"
They sent him back into the rat race without any brakes
He was a clean-cut kid
But they made a killer out of him,
That's what they did
He bought the American dream but it put him in debt
The only game he could play was Russian roulette
He drank Coca-Cola, he was eating Wonder Bread,
Ate Burger Kings, he was well fed
He went to Hollywood to see Peter O'Toole
He stole a Rolls Royce and drove it in a swimming pool
They took a clean-cut kid
And they made a killer out of him,
That's what they did
He could've sold insurance, owned a restaurant or bar
Could've been an accountant or a tennis star
He was wearing boxing gloves, took a dive one day
Off the Golden Gate Bridge into China Bay
His mama walks the floor, his daddy weeps and moans
They gotta sleep together in a home they don't own
They took a clean-cut kid
And they made a killer out of him,
That's what they did
Well, everybody's asking why he couldn't adjust
All he ever wanted was somebody to trust
They took his head and turned it inside out
He never did know what it was all about
He had a steady job, he joined the choir
He never did plan to walk the high wire
They took a clean-cut kid
And they made a killer out of him,
That's what they did
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 7:27 PM UTC
Random mortar shells in the afternoon.
Sparkling, steel jacketed rain drops,
Glinting rainbows of reflected sunlight.
Plastic explosive seat cushions upon which passers-by,
Rest their weary bones.
C-4 candy bars, nuclear toothpaste,
****** for dessert.
Orphanage flambe', hospital hash, blood pudding.
Human burgers sizzling on a smart bomb bar-b-que grill.
Finger food, toe jam, baby-back ribs.
Bureaucratic double talkers,
Sugar coated body counts,
Colateral stew.
Really deplorable, awfully sorry,
But it was their own faults trying to put on raincoats.
They declined our invitation to the cook-out.
Bad luck to open an umbrella in the house.
Remotely piloted funeral processions.
Radar guided hearses.
Televised in real time.
Precision, surgical,
neutralized, deterrent, disarmed,
Deactivated, stand down, eliminate.
Living pawns on a battlefield checkerboard.
Strategic, defensive,
Dominate, annihilate,
Acceptable loss, public opinion pole.
Listen to the tinkling of sabre blades,
Rattling windchimes,
In the warm breeze of the shockwave,
Accompanied by the drumbeat of detonation and concussion.
Rock...
...and heads will roll.
Holy, blessed,
Patriotic, brave,
Courageous, dedicated,
Heroic, dutiful,
Self sacrificing...
******
May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 10:28 AM UTC
What the Hell is this?!
Jealousy?
Betray?
Angry?
WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!
You kept that stare
Such reassuring eyes
"Oh I loved her once. Not now."
You made me feel less
Though I gave it my best
Now I'll end it before I can cry
You two faced *****
I'm tired of this ****
You'll never look down again
You tell me she's nothing
Just one of your buddies
When really you're covered in sin
Now things are over
You cry that it's over
But really there's comfort there
She's right next to you
In the picture you took
Two weeks after we're through
So tell me again of your love that you kept
Kept only for me
And how I'm so perfect
No other girls worth it
Because I was your cookies and cream.
Jun 30, 2013
Jun 30, 2013 at 2:08 PM UTC
Zombies they approach
to bad we can't be friends
This was my last thought
As I load my gun
This will be a blood bath
And I may never survive
I am the last, destined to die by hand I used to curest
I see her in the mob
Slowly approaching
Why rush I was doomed
I know it and so did they
I faught for 7 years
And this is my end
I am the last to see thair loved ones
I wounder how they will live with out me
I guess the same if I was the one that was victorious
**** this I yell"
as the zombies began to in case me
I was never the one who seeked the crowed
All wayse the loner
Dreaming for this day
Not hoping just knowing it will come to pass
My end will be beautiful
I cocked my gun
Knowing I wount need it but just liked the ilosen of my finally
Being of a gun fight,
We planed this
Me and the once people who surround me
All hopping it will never come
But non believed it was unnesary
They was in place
The shells all in place
I slipped the wire under my feat
And even though I could not see the liquid I know
It hit its home
Zombies cried in rage
Canines thrusted into the air
Trying to cut the air
And I laughted
****** was my favorite was my favorite wepen
I glanced above my head to see the net
Filed with liquid hell
It amused me that all the years I threaten to rain
Hell on my enimeyes
I get to do it
I hit the swich in my poket
I herd the flames hit the net
It will take 2 minutes for the flames
To meet the c4
But the zombies had a different plan
They rushed me
And all I did was take two steps backwards
And the mine wint of without a hitch
I lust a leg but that was enught distraction
C4 inighted and turned the night alive
I had made my last day of life
Hell
And I smile
The end is now
I closed my eyes
And waited
For my firy demise
To welcome me
Mar 30, 2012
Mar 30, 2012 at 6:22 PM UTC