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"ocelot" poems
Specimen after Specimen. One fail after another. He tries hard to break me. Ocelot is a fail. Ocelot is a blasted cat! Why cant you see thy humanity!? Ocelot is my name. And I am stuck here, Until I die. Or he kills me. The needles hurt, The medicine is vile... This Asylum, Is one of Hell..
0
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 7:43 AM UTC
In this Asylum
ash in rainclouds dripping air lilac perfume in her hair clipped on limestone as a marker parades of silence growing darker in such delicate hours when u breathe in whispers         and morninglit frosts your ponytail neck and         hibiscus flowers spill your time in glassine fingers drowning moments                        as nothing lingers
0
Aug 17, 2013
Aug 17, 2013 at 9:19 PM UTC
ocelot
Steve the ocelot Works at the supermarket But can't reach high shelves
0
Jun 26, 2014
Jun 26, 2014 at 1:26 AM UTC
Personification 2
Calico Beauty, Without human effort you win roars of cherish. lifting not a gloved finger you give us what we need. you are soft-nuzzle tentative: a humble pad-pad-pad when it longs to be heard. all softness in your shrinking night-sky back. my hand searches for the cold baby-down and you are sweetly out of reach. how sweet indeed. Dali’s very own you take your ocelot pride with surreal stillness on a pedestal that is not yours. and sometimes you rest in foggy caution and I steal a close moment. but too close! your headlights flash and you swim away. I have not the cruelty to pursue you.
0
Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 5:23 AM UTC
Frida Kahlo
Humanisation Might as well jam a mans face On an Ocelot Personify it Happy like Humanity Ocelot the bloke
0
Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 11:46 AM UTC
Personification
And oh I ache, like a creaking door, like a rusty faucet pipe. I can hear all the blood running it's errands in the sides of my head, it's this bathroom, this ******* bathroom. I feel like the turning handle on a mall gumball machine, no, then I feel like the ******* gumball, and I fall to the little black crevice with door, and you roll me out and pop me into your mouth, chewing hard and your spit is turning blue and I'm getting softer and softer in your lips. A caged Ocelot, and all I have to look to for a golden tomorrow is the poster of all the colorful wildlife, advertising this sickness. This pinging on a metal ceiling. This brownness. But my posters are of a different pair of devastating blue eyes that I know are evil too, but I pacify myself with the thought that they are so light because they are pure and clear, not because they are cold and hard. I started crying in my sleep. And I wake up with the streetlight shining through the window from that ***** alley that I love, and my face is so wet and so pink, and I say it's better that I cry unknowingly than consciously. I beg and toss for migration and distraction, chaos, oh baby where did you go? You can't leave me here with loose pieces of skin and a sick heart. You can't pick off the bottles on the ledge one by one with a rubber band and some pebbles and leave me with nothing. All I've got left are some nail polish bottles, some concert tickets, a few empty backseats. Things are either so incredible and hopeful or so ***** filthy, like gas stations, like the inside of ovens, and my fingers are becoming calloused. I'm floating like a cherry in a ***** shirley. Oh come, with your fingers in my hair, and kiss me.
0
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 4:37 AM UTC
cherries, I guess
And oh I ache, like a creaking door, like a rusty faucet pipe. I can hear all the blood running it's errands in the sides of my head, it's this bathroom, this ******* bathroom. I feel like the turning handle on a mall gumball machine, no, then I feel like the ******* gumball, and I fall to the little black crevice with door, and you roll me out and pop me into your mouth, chewing hard and your spit is turning blue and I'm getting softer and softer in your lips. A caged Ocelot, and all I have to look to for a golden tomorrow is the poster of all the colorful wildlife, advertising this sickness. This pinging on a metal ceiling. This brownness. But my posters are of a different pair of devastating blue eyes that I know are evil too, but I pacify myself with the thought that they are so light because they are pure and clear, not because they are cold and hard. I started crying in my sleep. And I wake up with the streetlight shining through the window from that ***** alley that I love, and my face is so wet and so pink, and I say it's better that I cry unknowingly than consciously. I beg and toss for migration and distraction, chaos, oh baby where did you go? You can't leave me here with loose pieces of skin and a sick heart. You can't pick off the bottles on the ledge one by one with a rubber band and some pebbles and leave me with nothing. All I've got left are some nail polish bottles, some concert tickets, a few empty backseats. Things are either so incredible and hopeful or so ***** filthy, like gas stations, like the inside of ovens, and my fingers are becoming calloused. I'm floating like a cherry in a ***** shirley. Oh come, with your fingers in my hair, and kiss me.
Continue reading...
1
Correctly speaking... We do not call an animal "it". We do not call a baby "it". We do not call he or she "it." We do not call ourselves "it." And what is most strangely odd to me, is that... "correctly" speaking: We do not call [G/g]od "it". -- We call [G/god] "he". He. When we absolutely know what "he" means in the English language; it means that the object being represented by the word is in fact, a male. But even to call [G/god] "she" would not satisfy the feminist in me. For "she" would refer to [G/god] as a female, of course. How are we to identify someone or something to contain a *** and gender, when we have no evidence or implications whatsoever of this speculation? The Bible states He, His, and Him, repeatedly, no doubt, but this lack of reference was the only known outlet to Scribes. The capitalization [G], as to give [G/god] a name -- humanization & personalization, but this is more of a veil to shield our own humane needs, because in observation, it appears that this given Name was given to help our immediate understanding of the subject; an identifier. Of course, everything should have an identity; that is what a noun is, after all. If it has a voice, and words, and advice, it must be a person.. We say. If it can teach and listen and punish, it must be a species, a being. Well, indeed, it is. But not in the way you and I   normally think of this notion. And should [G/god] be a proper noun? Well, of course.. It is almighty! (Notice the "it".) So, God. Just like other proper nouns, it is the name of a name within a name. Ocelot, for example, is a cat within the noun "cat". BUT God stands alone... It is no noun within a noun. Or is IT? "God is a chariot" -- stated many places. "He flows throughout all, within all." (There's that "he" again..) It is true! God is a chariot! God is in me, and in you; it is in everything; it makes everything; it breaks everything; it is. You are, for it flows in you and is a part of you. And if you exude this piece of your soul, it will be obvious that God is no he, nor a she, but it is something inside, waiting to be shown. It is something to be seen physically-- through action and care--through art and stare. Anything imaginable, God is in it, which if I look back at this text and think correctly, you are in it. You are everything, because you are a part of everything, because you ARE God; You are the creator of your world, and the eyes of how you see it; As am I. So start acting like it, because everything is an extension of your inner-self. This is a thing that should not be looked over, and should not be considered above you, although it is a higher power, it is a power within you, that you can achieve. Nothing worth achieving is low; you must rise up. Be godly.
0
Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 12:42 PM UTC
So, God
Correctly speaking... We do not call an animal "it". We do not call a baby "it". We do not call he or she "it." We do not call ourselves "it." And what is most strangely odd to me, is that... "correctly" speaking: We do not call [G/g]od "it". -- We call [G/god] "he". He. When we absolutely know what "he" means in the English language; it means that the object being represented by the word is in fact, a male. But even to call [G/god] "she" would not satisfy the feminist in me. For "she" would refer to [G/god] as a female, of course. How are we to identify someone or something to contain a *** and gender, when we have no evidence or implications whatsoever of this speculation? The Bible states He, His, and Him, repeatedly, no doubt, but this lack of reference was the only known outlet to Scribes. The capitalization [G], as to give [G/god] a name -- humanization & personalization, but this is more of a veil to shield our own humane needs, because in observation, it appears that this given Name was given to help our immediate understanding of the subject; an identifier. Of course, everything should have an identity; that is what a noun is, after all. If it has a voice, and words, and advice, it must be a person.. We say. If it can teach and listen and punish, it must be a species, a being. Well, indeed, it is. But not in the way you and I   normally think of this notion. And should [G/god] be a proper noun? Well, of course.. It is almighty! (Notice the "it".) So, God. Just like other proper nouns, it is the name of a name within a name. Ocelot, for example, is a cat within the noun "cat". BUT God stands alone... It is no noun within a noun. Or is IT? "God is a chariot" -- stated many places. "He flows throughout all, within all." (There's that "he" again..) It is true! God is a chariot! God is in me, and in you; it is in everything; it makes everything; it breaks everything; it is. You are, for it flows in you and is a part of you. And if you exude this piece of your soul, it will be obvious that God is no he, nor a she, but it is something inside, waiting to be shown. It is something to be seen physically-- through action and care--through art and stare. Anything imaginable, God is in it, which if I look back at this text and think correctly, you are in it. You are everything, because you are a part of everything, because you ARE God; You are the creator of your world, and the eyes of how you see it; As am I. So start acting like it, because everything is an extension of your inner-self. This is a thing that should not be looked over, and should not be considered above you, although it is a higher power, it is a power within you, that you can achieve. Nothing worth achieving is low; you must rise up. Be godly.
Continue reading...
72
Oh ocelot sky spotted clouds of black and gold filled with stars the shining eyes of a cat among the heavens
0
Feb 2, 2023
Feb 2, 2023 at 5:32 AM UTC
Ocelot Sky