"particulate" poems
Stuck to the wall
with a pirate cringe, positivity illegal as sin
good vibes that almost hurt
like a wife-beater's undershirt
Tough to clean, hard to keep
even when the ground is getting steep
going up
They say it doesn't slam, gives you chance
it lays the land ahead
But I find the blue skies like to turn scarlet
and slip faithless from my wake
It's all me, all me
driving a stake through every chance I get
At regaining decorum--
which is hard to keep, tough to clean
after a massacre, a true disaster
The lawful bickers
of a girl curling in disgust because...
Because positivity feels counter-productive
Not to mention a little too...
Seductive.
These words are brought to you by a petty fit,
not a frolick, nor even
a moment of in-betweenness--
A damned-darling particulate fire
going up
I'm a lost soul, fingers cold
Stuck to the wall and let out a pirate cringe--
why don't you--
satisfy me with positivity legal as sin
Give me those good vibes, make them hurt
like a lover's wife's lacy undershirt
Nice and clean, hard to keep
especially when you're in. Too. Deep.
But you're only going up.
From. Here.
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 10:27 PM UTC
Signals cross dissonant chills along the surface of my skin,
Prickled hair rises up under the brush of my touch.
Warm sensation waves attention
as flags fly high warning shots into the sky.
My eyes wide shut abruptly
in case the wind blows particulate
along the curving arch of my vision,
flipped back open upon collision,
batting down waterfalls in between curtain calls
as clapping hands of a broad audience
pass the winning touchdown play onto poppy seed fields.
My Love runs long and deep like the river through lost canyons,
hiding unknown along the moist horizon of dew drop mornings.
...*Oh, me?
I'm doing just fine fair weather,
Light as a feather, am I.*
But look!
...how the Earth shakes proudly the rocks upon her back.
Cast no Stones, She moans
...and you?
How do you do?*
Aug 29, 2014
Aug 29, 2014 at 1:09 PM UTC
Already the month
of August 2018,
May never become
a je June'm
(Forget-me-not)
time of year,
especially for nouveau
homeless and,
penniless residents,
(now more like worrier),
who reside in the
(burnt to a crisp)
Golden State where,
towering uncontrollable
wild fire infernos veer
really did tax mental,
physical, and spiritual
oye vey iz mare (to
the bajillion power
of Google Plex) their
heirlooms, mementos,
and trappings of
das kapital lifestyle
went up in smoke,
which tragedy didst seer
the eyes (yes, iz traumatic,
but also the air)
looms with toxic
particulate matter,
though concerned former
propertied owners
(now ashen faced)
as utter grief doth rear
a scorched (bumping) ugly head,
yet the onset of Autumn,
(and the main
purport of this poem)
(oh my dog, that twill be
in approximately three weeks,
when Eastern Orthodox Church
denotes beginning of ecclesiastical
annum mull house
for straight or queer
(these times opening
doors to LGBT, or GLBT
(an initialism that
stands for lesbian,
gay, bisexual, and transgender),
nonetheless history
replete with app pear
chock full of factoids such as:
September (Latin septem,
"seven") with near
exhaustive steeped in
pagan glory of antiquity.
Ancient Roman observances
for September include:
Ludi Romani, originally celebrated
September 12 - September 14,
later extended to
September 5 to September 19.
In 1st century BC, an extra day added
in honor of deified
Julius Caesar on 4 September.
Epulum Jovis held: September 13.
Ludi Triumphales held: September 18–22.
Septimontium celebrated September, and
December 11 on later calendars
September called "harvest month"
in Charlemagne's calendar.
September corresponds partly to
Fructidor and partly to Vendémiaire
of first French republic.
On Usenet, September 1993
(Eternal September) never ended.
September called Herbstmonat,
harvest month, in Switzerland.
The Anglo-Saxons called
month Gerstmonath,
barley month, that crop
then usually harvested.
Aug 31, 2018
Aug 31, 2018 at 5:00 PM UTC
The sand hides the sun.
Through a fog of particulate silica.
Distorted.
For the first time in my life,
I may look upon that glowing
bearing, for minutes straight.
Innards swallow,
That rock it flings,
Paints on the light.
Now the water vapor hangs,
Amongst its spiny rays,
Creating a mist of cloudy haze.
My eyes must seek to,
Penetrate.
Alas they lose this skirmish fray.
The sun cannot hide its specter.
The doppelganger image always,
Dapper and prim.
Amongst the thoughts in rift entrails of brain,
I think i am my brain. I don't think that when, head cut from body,
Shall my soul reside where my heart was;
Instead I may see, conscious, from where the two parted.
Creating a scar from which to view this hazed sun.
Ever notice,
How the eyes,
Are the only,
Place,
You can,
See from...
I can be an Ammonite with many chambers calcified.
Ghost fossil human head.
A ghost in a shell.
My eyes will carve shapes from the clouds.
Mar 30, 2013
Mar 30, 2013 at 8:48 PM UTC
If your muggy-grubby hands
Even rise to slap me again
I swear I'll chop them off with my axe.
If your fangly-boniony feet
Get within kicking distance of me,
I swear I'll tear your legs from your hips
And then admire my workmanship.
If your mangy-crazy mind
Tries to infiltrate mine
To deposit some lie
That would change the perception
Of me, myself, and i,
I swear I'll grab a spoon
And scrape, scrape, scrape
Out your brain.
If your hoity-toity attitude
Tries to usurp my solitude
To make me someone I'm not
I swear I'll be completely dispassionate
As I wipe your every iota from this
Particulate Universe.
If I so much as hear you breathe,
I swear I will squeeze
Every
Drop
Of
Air
Left in your lungs.
You think this is too violent even for me?
You'd better believe
I've been pushed to the edge
Of all logical reason
By your every act of treason
And I won't hesitate to
Incapacitate,
Excommunicate
Eradicate,
You from my life.
You'd better beware.
I'm angry and all this I'll do.
I swear.
Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 5:20 PM UTC
The mountains are silent
serene
solid in their poise.
Birds laugh in the branches
over those living each day
spirits borrowed
at the prelude to all creation.
Take heart,
love will hold us together
uprooting discontent from the soil of our dreams,
a diligent gardener
devoted to maintaining all
which is beautiful,
all that is ugly
yet magnificent.
And
We with tangled souls
are deemed the unlucky ones,
who've arrived at the revelation
of our own insignifcance
in the greater scheme.
This unknown plan
(This is but the beggining)
(a cosmic comedy).
In the afterbirth of your re-emergence
You are cleansed and pure
but this is not the cause
of this unending cycle.
Hope exists inside you
a lighthouse of levity
no force can deconstruct.
It is part of your humanity,
much in the same way
you are a part of me
and
I
You.
Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 9:46 AM UTC
Making manic impersonations
On a momentary scale
We ride on the echo of cymbals divine
Decanting data into philosophic wine
Perceptive perspective manifesting matrices
Unknown --
Uncontrollable, undeniable, imminent &
Haphazardly perfect;
The essence of our yesterdays & tomorrows
Etched, in passing, into the
Particulate framework
-- Momentarily --
& yet
-- Eternally --
Manifestations cloaked in the veil of time,
Laced with intentions self-concocted,
The tides exchange,
Endlessly blurring the line between
Creator and Created
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 2:44 AM UTC
Around 93 million miles from darling precious mother Earth,
First appeared glory sun,
In ecliptic stroll,
She'll orbit through her universe,
Dances past Mercury,
Stops for no party,
Cos this planet's party's lacking atmosphere,
Scally-wag sun scoots by Venus,
Burning hot herself,
Shining brightly in the darkness,
Phosphorescent glow,
Hesperus, the evening star, first one to be seen at night,
Phosphorous the morning star, the last planet to bid us goodnight,
When the morning comes in sight
Our lady home is next in line,
A planet rich with all life's treasures,
Mars she sits quietly dressed in red,
Has no water, not sure if she's always been dead,
Jupiter, has severe acne, shown in one red spot immense, she has no atmosphere, what gas she has is toxic, ammonia, methane, hydrogen,
The biggest baby of them all,
Saturn wears no wedding rings, has bands of ice particulate skirting round it's girth,
Uranus not much to say, he hangs around in space all day, as the Greek God of the sky,
Watching as the other world's go by,
Neptune, Roman God of the seas in planet form,
Pluto, chilled, the coldest one of all.
I hope you enjoyed this, it was extremely hard to write!!
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 4:00 PM UTC
say something or just
keep on makin' ghost-patterned, intervening silences,
singing
or half-murmuring
verses, those ones from slow songs under low light,
the same refrain that runs between all the others,
through the passage of weeks, stained tobacco sweet by eleven-thirty iterations;
* [post-meridian or particulate matters only,
of course,
it's hard to wake before noon anymore.]*
with the way these rhythms keep us down
and out,
counting the methods-
the summations of potential miseries,
and the probabilities that all would or could turn around, before the end of the week.
or the next one.
and,
outside the door, the one after that,
over the acres of concrete and pale shade,
streetlit likenesses hushing air through melting neighbourhoods,
I make imaginary footprints,
wondering which, of the field of household starlit comforts,
is the blade of grass you cast seeds from
to inadvertently germinate and sprout a well of aspiration, the wind in a stranger's ribcage,
continually growing, hiccoughing leaf litter,
with every last breath.
Dec 11, 2012
Dec 11, 2012 at 6:24 AM UTC
When I ****** deeply,
patient,
I wish to be enveloped
in your flesh,
to become your breath
and to be exhaled
sharp
from your chest,
refreshed and burning
.
With each entry turning
over into dust,
wet and mixed
thick
into yearning galactic pools,
coaxing each and every fleck
of spinning particulate
to the center
.
When I enter
make space for me
and you to be opened
in transparency
by the sunlight
like
morning glories,
watching in rapture
the sun rise over
the event horizon
.
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 3:45 PM UTC
A steamy trail of particulate vapor issues from her lips
tracing the outline of her silhouette and rising
up,
up,
it diffuses into nothingness
Don’t listen to what your parents or teachers tell you, kids-
smoke is very ****
she exhales again
slithers languidly through the still air
stretching for something-
rolls across my coffee table
like dunes in fast-forward
drips off the edges-
-gone.
She puffs a thick ring at me
it crosses through the void space toward me;
I reach out to touch it- to grasp it
and it dissipates;
she grins-
such teasing.
Smoke is-
and
is not-
it traces the airflow-
the negative space
like a jungle cat pretending to be
the light between the leaves
she knows this
and she can see that I know she does
Smoke
is why I am so captivated
So fascinated
so mesmerized
so transfixed
by her
and in general-
by women.
Dec 4, 2013
Dec 4, 2013 at 12:11 PM UTC
it caught the corner
of my eye
Pavlovian neck twist
jarring synapsis
tears followed
was it a ghost
or flickering dust particulate
sent me
crashing into your picture
sitting crisscross
considering memory’s place
longing to touch your finger
soft sunlight played
dog dander and field burn
swirled in the long evening
the radio crackled
long forgotten songs
played on vinyl
once again they fell
Is today your birthday?
Anniversary?
numbers blur
last year’s calendar
still hangs
rectangle wall stain
emotions wipe away
mental images persist
a face through the years
suddenly I stand alone /
Sep 2, 2016
Sep 2, 2016 at 4:59 PM UTC
I don't notice when my grip slackens.
The thoughts that held me have long since faded
into the hummmm that rattles through silence.
Untethered, I lose myself. Seemingly
broken into a pack of wild dogs
whose howls and moans echo distantly
Mingling with words uttered aloud
For no one's benefit: "Please, just stop it,"
tumbled down into particulate sound.
(As fine as sand.)
Those fragments that find their way back to me
snap capricious jaws, and left uncertain,
I flinch away from unfamiliar teeth.
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 2:20 AM UTC
Smoke dances seductively
while ascending from my to-this-day anonymous Pipe;
undulating and contorting, all according
to the movement of this particulate crystal lattice we call 'Air',
with which all these fans are *******
As Light transfixes the Smoke,
revealed is some Grain of Wood like texture
floating and distorting elegantly and eloquently
as 5 centimeter thick cross-sections,
courtesy of the not quite fully open Blinds.
Jul 30, 2013
Jul 30, 2013 at 2:37 PM UTC
There was nothing ahead
but the blazing red
brazen brake lights watching
for the likes of us,
with somewhere to be
besides the whipping chills
of concrete and ice
spliced into our state,
uniquely white.
Inside, the air
surged the song out
and over our bundled bodies
thermal anomalies
in the amalgamating night.
Music
wrapped and coiled,
covered the lazy silence
like insulation commitment
to keep us safe,
deployed in case of a conversational
head on collision,
curtailed with soft sounds,
in amber lamps
simple.
Your particulate words
freckles in the face of ill
conceived ideas of entitled
Sirs and Madams,
my van Gogh brush
damning them all to hell.
Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 1:46 PM UTC
Picking up mysterious interference
In supersensory organs
I'm struck with the fear of reality
Magnetic forces unnoticed
Hourly exacting imperceptible influence
Burying truth deeper into the murk of sensation
Micromovements hiding me alive
I'll never know unless I try to see
Which reality I'm knowing
And which I'm living
How many beams am I,
Cast through how many particulate clouds?
How much is happening to me,
And how much occurs within
And how much is shadow
Cast by straw men
Built by ghostly men of paper
Professionally seeking to
Confirm paranoid suspicions
That gurgle up from the darkest dreams
Black Magic cauldrons of Chaos
Manipulating minds
Dec 1, 2012
Dec 1, 2012 at 3:10 PM UTC
Lines at night by the light of the moon
Their plan for death will come true for some all too soon
Our lungs with air that’s bombarded with toxin
chocking on the particulate, that spreads across the land.
Veggies and fruits grown by hand or spiralina with colliadal silver,
Cannabis and chlorella too, those are to filter out the Toxic Goo or
The slew of the ultimates poisonous brew
Masked evil intended for the micros
That’s you and me or
should I just tell you something you already knew.
The gates are opening and the swastika is spinning
The time is ticking, their hands are getting all sticky
From all the ***** money that was made aloft from
All the Micro beings being slowly Offed.
Dec 5, 2011
Dec 5, 2011 at 8:14 PM UTC
I lost another bet
Met halfway through
A new razor blade song
Long to feel skin
Sin is the only thing I'm good at
Sat down and gave in
Pin *****
Pat down
to find your bullet
Still lodged in my spine
Line after line I articulate
Particulate matter matters a lot
Sought to numb the world
Curled hair around my finger
Linger longer
Stronger and stinging salt water in my eyes.
Oct 17, 2013
Oct 17, 2013 at 12:57 PM UTC
I am one, a particulate suspended
in an infinite collection of
breathing stardust
alone standing on
earthly surfaces.
And you are the life I began
to understand in the poetry of
your words that I long to
**** in and inhale for the rest
of this illusionistic superficial reality.
Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 9:47 AM UTC
Left to remain
Anything to quell fear
Seized opportunity
Sold soul to fear
Parallel vision
Past and present collide
Time recalled of time without fear
Haunting specter
Wild cry
Wild sound of devotion
Old quest uncovered from the dust
Old wilderness restoring to old glory
Firing from old expended
Reservoirs transferring water
Into coffee grinders, to dust
Chained in a crab *** at the bottom of the sea
Pelted with repeated blasts of particles of light
Until the matter is compressed into a singularity
Or breaches on the matter anyway besides
Unleashing rather than a sinkhole trap,
A flash flood over everything
Coating vision with a venereal sheen
Inundated in a fluid silk connective fabric bond
Until the matter reaches
Into pockets of relief
And miracles of situational
Restorative advance
Particulate regenerative
Relationship encounters
Debris from space accumulating
Hoping in some arcane sense
To be reformed together into beasts anew
While similarly fossils of
An ancient swarm of locusts
Are unearthed
They’re met with magnets
Positioned counter to the flow of electricity
This array is aligned to the magnetosphere
Of that old planet
Where I have lived before and left kinsmen behind to grow a colony of their own
But my own magnetism is calibrated today
To the wildly different magnetosphere of my latest home
To put it mildly, out of wild instinct, exiled from an old society
Of innocence/intelligence
A pretense over bell curve
Environment restrictive of
Fraternization ***********
On a day too perfect for itself
The stage-play left upon my table
All the actors meandering about
Chance encounters replaying dramas.
Jan 22, 2011
Jan 22, 2011 at 8:00 PM UTC
You said to leave
He said to go
I want to stay
but I didn't know
then I felt a tear
as you both
RIPPED my heart in two
I come completely undone
over and over
replaying
I try in vain
there's no delete
just hit it again
reapeat, reapeat
flashes of the day I walked out
headlights facing the night alone
waiting endlessly forever
I am sitting by the phone
because he never called
you didn't either
finally I saw your face
couldn't erase
I heard what you said
we didn't understand
as music notes are drifting
recalling, recalling
I'm sifting
through pages
listening contentedly
to my new reality
I'm living in chains
digging up bones and finding remains
your loving keeps me here
within a prisoners tears
sounding in the background
turns out that poetry
is everywhere
I hadn't seen it before
until I heard
that slow closing door
and finally seeing us behind me
hindsight is insight,
being 20-20
I'm blinded
lost in the dust
just a particulate
checking the rear view mirror
looking, looking, looking
the visions of brightness are gone
as darkness is coming
playing into the dawn
whispering so loudly
the skies laying low
I'm hearing
the sounds of goodbye
and I now I know
as realizations hit me
stopped in my tracks
a broken record
skipping, skipping, skipping
tears falling from
the leaving
the only
true love I had ever known
... gone like the wind
only to be heard again
in my radio...
musings.
Cherie Nolan © 2016
Sep 25, 2016
Sep 25, 2016 at 3:22 PM UTC
Quick spiraling up
dust, cut through
particulate, converse
for wear - no worse
lines taut, held terse
for sure, bravely held
when expected projected,
and shown to the rest with
confection rejected
Tested, tried true, you
tread boldly into
stone cold reserves told
tritely, mighty fine end
This spring/summer confection
inside of my head
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 9:42 AM UTC
pushing toward the things I dreamed as a seed:
a particulate of matter nestled under the blankets
of earth and potentiality.
I cried, I stretched my arms and felt the sand tucked around my shoulder
blades start to fade away with the miles covered in a greyhound bus.
I breathed, I blossomed;
I held the moon in my hands and used it to put shimmer in my step.
I tucked the unfinished pieces into my pocket and swore to return to them later,
I picked the brightest flowers from the field and wove them into the braid
that wrapped around my collarbones.
I wrapped my sweater tight around the life I made,
I watched it unravel with dwindling wonder.
I found the fragments in my pocket gathering dust:
some I set free into the fall air that smelled like my grandfather's garage,
some I melted back into the veins of my heart,
some I wrapped around the pigeons to keep them warm in the winter.
I am a sliver of mica retrieved by an eight year old girl from a lake
warm with the seaweed of summer.
I glimmer in the sunlight and flake away piece by piece,
floating to an atmosphere where I can reconstruct myself into the glossy
details on the edge of a wave.
I am all that I remember and all that I am becoming, constantly
part of a new wave, of the same ocean, from the same lake.
aren't we all just runaways?
Nov 25, 2012
Nov 25, 2012 at 5:56 AM UTC