"palliation" poems
What miserable circumstances these are I must say,
All seriousness awaits every young mind,
Dust turns to dirt,
And thy dirt turns to slime!!!
Lying in the state of orient,
Thine place of buckeye hatched Nazi's!!!
Thine place where flies stay nutritious,
And gamblers turn to yahzee!!!
Turnaround,
For pickaways thy decadent view,
Just as Shawshank there's no escape,
Just white t-shirts ,
Straps replace laces and mindrapists of me and you!!!
Such colorful words used in a slander!!!
Falcons to replace birds,
Snake's here to smell out every tasteful salamander!!
No dancers,
No lovers,
No swings,
No palliation!!!
No invitations to weddings,
No wedded rings!!!!
Constitutional rights,
Forgeteth them thou reader of ohian laws,
Thy bloodcells extend,
Muscles bend to flex thy own callibur to thine jaw!!!!
Miracles of dark and lighted angels appear in sequences,
No recommendations,
Just case workers to fill bus help stations!!!
Proverbs to psalms will open to eyes that have not yet seen,
Where pearlied gates are out on display,
No movie theaters,
No freak like scenes!!!
All reality, no aura in the Catacomb of unknown kilter!!!
Pacification leads me successfully with a peace of minds own capture,
Prevailing to Sentiment,
To Amour ever after!!!!!
May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 7:31 PM UTC
She always thought about him.
Every waking moment of every single day she thought.
His absolute perfection cherished her heart,
Lavishing her with faultless hugs, kisses, and affection.
She was saturated within the tenderness of his touch,
The desire that convenes within the obscure dimensions of her heart,
Her soul,
Her entity.
The entity that was brightened into a stream of gratitude and indulgence. Emanated from what seemed to be an eternal hell, he was
Salvation.
A deliverance of palliation,
Easing her with his captivating influence,
And relieving her of her poignant past.
She looks at him and his blemishes are blurred.
Admiring his frayed edges and his vial mistakes
They celebrate each other.
Lacking the sour stink of irritability.
Their love drowns in certainty without a single drop of ambivalence.
He heals her with his rigid fingers,
caressing her petite frame.
Reviving her from the depths of her severed self-esteem.
He is her,
Salvation.
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 11:09 PM UTC
Accretion,
Tis I seek!
Permission,
Of ones love to keep!
Partition,
I gaze for none!
Secretion,
Of child play fun!
Direction,
To giveth me her hand!
Completion,
A wedded band!
Ommision,
I want none more!
Suspition,
Please close thy store!
Assumption's,
I enquireth zilch!
Corruption,
Sleeps with filth!
Attention,
Wrap me as waddling infant!
Kitchen's,
To cook a meal of terrace's far and distant!
Affectation,
Of two fallen cherub's!
Alleviation,
Of the bug's and scarab's!
Abstraction,
I paint as a picture,
Benedictions,
Of one pellet, two triggers!
Complications,
Of breathing do I feel,
Irrigations,
Another deathly pill!
Saturation,
Man made queens to beasts!
Irritation,
Where art thou? Queen of settled feast?
Obliteration,
I lurk the high hilled tops!
Incarceration,
Where ghoul's meet thy cops!
Palliation,
To make sensual love in darker nights,
Excruciation,
Where art thou light?
***********
Of kings and consort souls,
Acceptation,
Wilt thou come mine love?
May 29, 2015
May 29, 2015 at 10:21 AM UTC
Where is the palliation? Parochial visions of blank t.v's fuzzed by all Excruciation!
Paradigms of paradoxed love all come around secretly, yet I see them in plain sight. Panacea night's broken to hot bedded springs, parsimonious money launderer's pocket's grow, while children die to sing!!!
The paucity of romancers so pensive to me, perennial, bicentennial blows strong onto every sneeze...
A perfidy of things so strange, word's of slang, to ghetto walls of brick!!! Eye's glued, bomb's on the move with shells from mistakened and sick....
Why so many pojoritive scholar's I ask? Ties to their neck's, with shutgun shells ready to blast....
Perjury of judges, to Schemer's and dreamer's of pernicious luggage....
Where can I find such one who won't make me their perquisite? One to replenish me,
One who shall satisfy me whole as I them!!!!!!!
To an ancient beautiful feast!!!
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 7:58 AM UTC
we awake and i whisper to u a little while
with all of days gone by us
suffering to palliation and joy to dust
they dying of the light
and the ephemeral sadness in our bones
only the shadow and sleep to call home
melt away
with the fizzle-drip-dripping
skip tipping our hats like madmen
crashing through the black.
Aug 19, 2017
Aug 19, 2017 at 5:55 PM UTC
Born the son of man
made in his image
losing humanity
following the ways of man
I bet my life
putting it all on black
until the red filtered through
and I became a man.
Being a man is effortless
but being two men is impossible
getting through to men somewhere in between
men mourning every day storming
incapable of sight after being dehumaneyesed
men must come together to make man
palliation for a lifelong abortion.
Vultures perch on my body
saying "we've got a live one here"
devouring my finger off the pulse
their tasteless tongues
receive no sustenance
from the known nothingness
of the cycle of life.
The price of membership is dismemberment
paid for with pieces
that are swallowed whole by the hole
man puts in his head
donning the cloak of fatherhood
concealing the void while claiming purpose
making someone in their image
before dying as the son of man.
Jun 17, 2021
Jun 17, 2021 at 4:42 AM UTC