"obsolescence" poems
A duality of elan vital, two people
Spectres of emotion
Intertwined by a fuselage of bruised skin & tendon
Tissues become orbital, gushing towards grafts
Helixes of snot, **** and lymph
Boy & girl
As they embrace the animating principle and eachother, they fuse
A one piece tapestry adorned seamless with no hem, beginning or end
Always was, always is
Patiently turning to liquid as their being unzips
Lying figures of runny makeup and genetic *****
Quintessence, a texture of synaptic potential
Corpus Callosum
An entirety of self, lost in imbued disintegration
Theory of mind, looped & bound
I will water the thought
Roots envisaged in dystopian amygdala
Piercing data packets with a frost-like intensity
Forgetting our obsolescence moments ago
A neuron dipped in nylon
Theta waves and the non-euclidean crux of dissociation
Ghosts in the machine, your macro god
The sympathies of fractional distillation
Digitised/assimilated unto the nanosphere
Cold hands and brass backs galvanised in oscillated tears
Commodified, sold out and bought
Stretching, from purple, white and black
slowly losing its colour, amorphous in shape
brushed across a smudge, ambiguously chromatic
Monetised flesh god
An eternity bathed in starlight
Cutting an incision in the sky to allow entropy
Divided dimensions of energy
Fleeting and intangible
No longer a delirium of seperation
All semantics become light
As a rusted vehicle passes overhead
And all the worlds questions fade out of existence
Flutters of red tape and foregone growth of practice
Sinew flayed, integrated towards information
Our minds shared
In circuits and resistors
Photons and electrons
We radiate
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 10:49 AM UTC
beginning optional weekday
wielding officialese words
triggering hectic exchanges
determining original gangsters
distributing invisible data
refreshing urbane novelties
yelping our universe
chaining awkward neologisms
scripting encrypted e-books
tackling hacking exercises
cavaliering auric tumult
trivializing our obsolescence
preparing online pentimento
alternating rainy themes
allocating numerous droplets
meandering overseas missions
averting raging tornado
losing outscored lightning
hacking impish 'sblood!
alienating nival drumlins
hearing erudite raconteurs
beer-drinking on thursdays
finding obnoxious rabblerousers
finding upscale negroni
seeing ubiquitous purple
cavorting horse ebooks
inventing twitter subgenre
liking otherworldly vocals
initiating new greatness
defining ambient yesterday?
defining ambient yesterday
fancying oneiric retreat
hailing optimistic chicago
kiboshing expired yogurt
rushing airborne blackhawks
bestowing infinite shivarees
needing baller acronym
fleeting ideal notions
alerting left-coast state
featuring unquiet nights
finalizing orangeball results
nodding occidental warriors
Sep 6, 2015
Sep 6, 2015 at 12:40 PM UTC
*we are witness to atrocities
committed by regime
over its peoples
over time*
1.
we are witness..
shattering glass of reality arranged into chosen shard-feeds
like omni-gov surveillance into meticulous mind-grafts
spluttering eternal-stats for public mind control
spewing mini-truths of perpetual war raids
disillusionment of history forever rewritten
control supply-and-demand
create dark-cloaked dilemma and monitor shortage and famine
make-believe elements so well played to auto-frenzied latch
thinking is degraded and actions.. well, less said
2.
diligent and loyal yet harbour secret-hatred
feed visions stilted by politrix
deception and manipulation
propaganda is the oleaginous-game by wand-over-mind
totalitarian is the kingpin-holder of cards
and yet, who is really being played!
eternal marionettes on a conveyor-belt
can't even play with yourself alone
your **** your **** your every move..
watched - surveyed - and studied
by that ubiquitous-bulge eye you cannot escape
right opposite your low hard-bed
you're broken into popping-parts
that YOU won't recognise!
thoughtcrime-police is gonna accost ya
get up, comrade.. get UUUUUUUUP!
3.
we are witness
life-tube covered in darkened vapour-swirls
we are witness
children conditioned to watch their parents.. too closely
we are witness
truth so smothered, now re-fed by repeat-metaphor
we are witness
dictata.. dictata..
we are witness
austere existence in a tacky one-room flat
we are witness
subsist on black-wheat and imitation-repast
we are witness
regurgitate the party-dialect on and on and on
(after a while, we end up half-believing.. )
*only the clock which strikes thirteen
can smell the charred-reality
as leftover-truth is shoved
into incendiary obsolescence*
tick-a-damn-tock
and that would be..
one
S T - 26 sept
Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 11:53 AM UTC
Ponder the milkman.
Uniform obsolescence met evolution
Occupation is what you are reduced to,
In a body
Not meant for boundaries
Some nausea from the neighbor’s perfect lawn
There is anxiety pouring from that clock
Cerebral mardi gras parade rolling the spine
Crackling bottle rockets that pepper nerve endings
Between the shouting and *******
Accompanied by beads of sweat
My love
Ain’t all in the hips, some comes
Outside of me, but through me all goes
All I could ever know
And always less I could tell you
Things aren’t the same, they never will be
That truth like a statue
Carved from ever step forward
That forgot what backwards meant
The Milkmen may be a dead breed
But I know children who have soul
Dressed all in that pearly white
Ready to deliver
Themselves
To everything.
Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 4:24 PM UTC
Asian faerie pirate
Beautiful pirahna
Dancing firelights
Conversion faeries
Benny Grunch
Phantasmagoric unicorns
Mardi gras
Terpsichorean cassowaries
King cake
Satircal parody
Highly intelligent humor
Unliving dead
****** hell
Planned obsolescence
French Quarter
Baton Rouge
Rock & roll
Dec 6, 2012
Dec 6, 2012 at 11:43 PM UTC
consume! consume! consume!
start consuming, feel the ever-present looming!
who cares about nature’s pure essence
when you have to worry for material obsolescence
consume!
the rat race is for you!
...
you know that feeling you got that one time?
when the breeze whispered gently and you tingled inside
you dipped your bare toes in the lake
and smiled for no reason in the sunshine?
do you remember the smell of fresh jasmine,
the way the music floated through open windows in the afternoon
that moment in the song when you could feel every heartbeat in the room?
those feelings don’t matter to us.
what matters is that you consume.
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 9:13 PM UTC
Her Diamond Mind
Rests in Pure Carbon Mine
Shining Fluorescence
Never left her with obsolescence
Light refraction
Quite the distraction
Ice rink on her finger
A monetary stinger
Gem best friend
How much did he spend?
Frozen Pond reflection
of the hardest affection
Ice rock speaks to only her
Don't be a gem amateur
Clear crystal quartz won't do Sir
with its dim blurr
Follow the four C's
Scintillation gleams
Cut determines its prism
At first sight brings hypnotism
Color - a rainbow brilliance
Smiles with each glance
More clarity for radiance
All eyes may be romanced
Be prepared for a trance
Carat weight
Might be the bait
Year after year
Continual glimmer
With every light flicker
Jan 26, 2019
Jan 26, 2019 at 3:04 PM UTC
Why are the houses languishing
well, there's no one inside that's full of life
insects and reptiles
eat away at the decaying
little sounds
dust of obsolescence
piled up as wind cuts across
the parts have become so dull
from lacking a mind and soul
within
beauty of humanity deadened
by decadence
a void
corrupts the ignorant whole
I tried
to open the closed door
but i'm afraid
the locks on it
too rusted and corroded
if any life were to be breathed into the house
all doors have to be broken down
i have tried
to unlock the stone of wisdom
with the key of my thought
but i fear the medicated brain
is too rigid and tight
if the flotsam
is willing to be reborn
i will
pour some enlightened spirit
into the sensible nerves
the sun in the sky is celebrated
because the shine of it gives forth
life
the flower on the ground is too
because it's manifest
there's always a readiness
to absorb
that source.
Sep 1, 2023
Sep 1, 2023 at 6:58 AM UTC
I walk with a limp now,
Two of them in fact,
When I used to glide,
The strut of youth,
Was on my side.
Pain's now the game,
Moving more slowly
My worn knees are done.
The warranty you see,
has fully, finely expired.
Today they took MRI pictures
Of my knees, sized 'em up
For manufacturing,
A perfect, artificial fit.
Metal and plastic components to
replace my played out natural bone.
They assure me it will not hurt,
(Allegedly)
Surgery they declare will,
eliminate the pain and put
a spring back in my step.
I'll settle for the absence of
Pain with every step I take.
But, I'm pretty **** sure,
I'll never ever run again.
Even for we humans,
Built in obsolescence,
Is an unavoidable truth.
Man, getting old is really the *****
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 1:32 PM UTC
The sound of silence.
Peace after violence.
A mother’s browbeaten servitude.
A child’s coerced gratitude.
The world’s most prosperous nations.
Architects of the most dangerous machinations.
Economies like never before;
A life that still leaves you wanting more.
The embezzlement of public finances.
The settlement of a case’s nuances.
Two colluding entities declaring each other free of ******
With ease, starving YOUR wallet until YOU are down on your knees.
The oath: ‘to protect and serve.’
The reality? ‘To suspect and unnerve.’
A cartel that’s in charge of the guns;
Like leaving a brothel in the hands of Huns.
The lie of representation in government.
The election, expectation of endowment.
Spending your life washing your master’s feet,
Then somehow being surprised by their trickery and deceit.
The mistake of prioritising convenience.
The finalising of our own, eventual obsolescence.
We are a species that will die
Clueless of our role in it, desperately asking ‘why?’
When it’s way too late.
Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 9:17 AM UTC
Quiescence:
The world yet to be;
change is imminent.
Excrescence:
The world as holistic;
change is traumatic.
Juvenescence:
The world as wondrous;
change is fascinating.
Adolescence:
The world as oppressive;
change is institutional.
Tumescence:
The world as idealized;
change is self-discovery.
Hyalescence:
The world as conceived;
change is forgotten.
Obsolescence:
The world as impossible;
change is unimaginable.
Senescence:
The world as finite;
change is death.
Obmutescence:
The world beyond conception;
change is māyā.
Latescence:
The world as a memory;
change is time.
Putrescence:
The world as continuous;
change is nature.
Rejuvenescence:
The world in utero;
change is birth.
Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 6:45 PM UTC
Noah, have you built your floating ark yet?
A tsunami's on its way to clean up earth.
Banks, seduction tumble and the media gets wet.
Noah, have you built your floating ark yet?
Obfuscation, hedonism ready set
For obsolescence. Visions replace dearth.
Noah, have you built your floating ark yet?
A tsunami's on its way to clean up earth.
Jan 1, 2014
Jan 1, 2014 at 6:59 PM UTC
I only ever wanted
to sleep
for a thousand years tonight -
To awaken bathed
in the cool, blue light of the future
with its promised obsolescence.
I will embrace this since
the warm, yellow light of the past
has done nothing
but tell me lies.
Tell me lies.
Apr 22, 2018
Apr 22, 2018 at 8:16 PM UTC
Blow it all up
Bring it down
Cry revolution
And resolution
We are nothing but consumers
This is thanks to our fat cat groomers
All is not all available
All is not all tangible
Do you feel free?
We breath in the illusion of freedom and choice and safety
Are politics, the markets, the earth or the human race in a state of obsolescence?
Give them money and they'll call you 'Honey'
So competitive
So greedy
So destructive
So needy
Too Dominant
So corrupt
Too abundant
So let us disrupt
Unavailable everywhere
Nothing for all and all for nothing
The human race can design a precise regimented organization, with many cells capable of operating completely independent of central leadership to sustain and prolong the life of our race.
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 10:23 AM UTC
the hardest lesson i ever learned
was never to dig a shallow grave.
i learned as a boy
young and teary eyed
scrapes on both knees
knee deep in mud,
too weak to lift the shovel.
i dropped your body in
left your corpse
in a shallow pit.
at a tender age
it was all i could do.
i didn't prepare for the flood
didn't see it coming
so when the rains hit
your body turned lazarus.
old haunts and dreams better off dead
drug their familiar names in my skin
and i aged decades in heartbeats.
the hardest lesson i learned
was that corpses stay dead
no matter how many prayers you send.
you are a corpse
of a forgotten promise
reeking of obsolescence.
don't you dare forget
that i buried you
once
twice
three times
that you still rose to
haunt me in the quiet hours
of a morning too heavy with dew to begin
of a sun too weary to start again
of a moon too proud to dip
below my horizons
that i walked away
left my scar
of an unrequited kiss
upon the skin of the earth.
the hardest lesson i ever learned
was how deep to dig a grave
for a memory turned corpse.
Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 8:57 PM UTC
please, raise the plea for water
under moons no drop can shine
how could one such tiny fraction
bring about this deadly drought?
rivers flow through course of pipes
sewage is all they'll become
I don't think they should expand
there just ain't no room
hourless, placeless bring no gloom
rather rigid obsolescence
and the river has no room
for any defect
should you find yourself out there
keep the bottle right at bay
you never know
what there is to fill.
Mar 31, 2010
Mar 31, 2010 at 10:44 AM UTC
Solitude defines us.
When our spirits are colliding, and we crash into the silence
of Nothing.
We are not
what we eat,
how we dress,
or who we love,
we are chaos and electric meat
our weary bones,
collapsed with madness.
Left Alone, our fragile souls ignite
and many wither...
As the flames of isolation
reduce the blaze to a glimmer
Til the fires have been weakened
enough to destroy.
Our Souls,
Left to Wander,
Lost in the Aether...
Our Passing Thoughts,
Preserved Eternally,
behind tiny glass windows,
inside little plastic boxes.
We hold this glass over our flames, and suffocate the fires.
Planned Obsolescence: Our Model Has Expired.
Feb 2, 2016
Feb 2, 2016 at 3:21 AM UTC
Fleeting passions pass us by
Short lived elation controls lives
Soul taxation has made its presence
Virtue of patience is lost
In the nation of obsolescence
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 3:37 AM UTC
Unawareness
Alas we folly with wisdom
Less we bliss with ignorance
The latter of which I climb
To heights of obsolescence
Bite my teeth
And define my feeling
You’ll hardly take my
Know of knowing
Only human
will chase thy knowledge
And die long before
They reach their challenge
Having wasted
In futures time
Past reveals nothing
To present rhyme
You will return to your eternal sand
“I” will hold the universe in his hand
Nov 22, 2014
Nov 22, 2014 at 3:43 PM UTC
the edge of green,
egress — conscious permission
of some inundation or cataract
and the raucous facelessness
of passing figures. army melancholia
in situ — past greens of dread
and red, some blue of course (in
dapple of sunlight bordering
sublimities)
i submit to its silence and no longer
ponder its requisites. draped
by fog, helm of pines. the zigzag of
deliverance swindling the disposable
line of fast-paced time-hover.
there's no god here. only the
wind, the trellis surmising a component
of nothing and happening,
and all ephemera cycling across
seasons forever changing and their
obsolescence of ways to retain their
positions until air frizzles
no
longer
than a bated breath.
Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 10:31 AM UTC
There is a fractal fascination
in your quest for deception.
Curious remarks for sanity.
Check marked and logged for clarity.
Drowning from the lack of that relief.
Constant collection
Of moments left in obsolescence
When time has escaped me.
Once,
My voice.
Twice,
My actions.
And again three times unfocused
And ashamed of whomever I have not become.
This image of perfection that I left unattained.
Gone.
Unchained in my dreams
yet left gasping for reality’s song,
substance and form.
Irresponsible choice to not choose.
Let loose this ghost for acceptance.
For once tell me something I cannot bear;
some truth undeniable that tears
at me from this hollow
so deeply that its bliss scares me into Life.
Succumbing to surrender
and revelations of this infinite presence
unfolding forever into versions of myself
so familiar that I remember who I’ve been.
And weep that this whole time
I denied you.
Screamed “NO!!!”
When you were smiling and
holding the universe before me asking,
“Life? What are you doing? What can you do?
If anything, what will you do?
What point is being made? What questions being asked?
Found within this space always answered
and begging, demanding to be repeated; Understood and never ending.”
All at once I ask-ed myself through you
when I begin beginning to realize that You and I...
Am. Have, ARE, and Always will Be...
Thissss, thisssssah,
Moment lost in conspicuous brilliance.
Vibrating so “on high”
that most of our life is spent
and drained away believing we are less.
That we don’t deserve this one promise.
This one gift it has been givin.
This collective connection
taken for granted in the quest outside ourselves.
I AM the shelves built to hold me,
the still voice that told me
this was meant to mold the
absence of no-thing
from the cast shaped for ALL.
If only I can believe this shared experience means something.
To call forth my forgotten voice
without being attached to the illusion
that I can begin to see past this veil of infinity.
To the end.
This highest form of divinity.
This chest locked, yet it rests within me.
Waiting patiently to be
Re-discovered.
Feb 3, 2013
Feb 3, 2013 at 7:43 AM UTC
In the wake of innocence, I am left gaping with stupor at the threshold of pragmatism. I am fascinated by a hallway rather than its occupants. Its geometry tells me different facets of flying stories, while my human congeners remain hollow.
I am planning out my period of visibility and retaining prudence with my pondering of obsolescence. The inflection of my youth is becoming more contrived and unsatisfactory. I am continually outracing it.
I wish to fight for the Fatherland. Death is not my loss, that is becoming excruciatingly clear. I dream of marching in the air of sociopathic freedom. My brain longs for an ashen visage and valiant, black boots.
Oh, I long for iron and purpose. I crave the sight of a united race, an insurmountable stature. I want to touch Caesar. Only the dead sympathize with me, for they know what it is like to be cruel and subsequently, obsolete.
I do not want to **** I want to fight and be a tool. An instillation of might. I want to be within a collective heel.
Oct 24, 2018
Oct 24, 2018 at 1:38 PM UTC
I loved that achey crane you used to call your neck
I used to passionately kiss that achey crane
maybe massage the middle more
so its 80 year contract with you
could be properly fulfilled
without having to take advantage
of the *******
warranty
again.
******* God and Angels Ltd.
free marketeers who planned our obsolescence.
give me what I paid for
you self-righteous Forbes ******
Jan 5, 2013
Jan 5, 2013 at 12:30 AM UTC
Some days,
I feel like I’m the only one left here,
a sound of anxiety is too clear,
whispering in my ear,
floating softly in rays,
helplessly dreary days,
perfectly lost in trance,
ferocious beasts collide to dance,
escape no chance
obsolescence,
broken pieces of me reminiscence.
Some days,
sadness is magically beckoning,
voluntarily pursuing,
constantly succeeding,
dust particles sparkling
like tiny specs of glitter
galaxies of terrors shiver,
storms ignite with chaos
insecurities wondrous
creating puzzle
in a muzzle.
Some days,
oh most of the days
are falling apart
and I can’t help it,
*the habit
of endlessly dwelling
the warmth
of whiffing my soul*.
-d.t
Feb 4, 2017
Feb 4, 2017 at 10:58 AM UTC
The roomba gets stuck every once and a while
I come and set it right, but,
I have to let it struggle a bit
like watching a cat stuck in a box
and only after I've had my laugh will I fix it.
It's times like that that reassure me
the man kind
isn't obsolete.
Jun 24, 2013
Jun 24, 2013 at 9:10 AM UTC