"petro" poems - Hello Poetry

The right winter for dope and ice for walks along the river route home The right winter for arctic pin-prick wind holes in boots turquoise dress coat far too thin for walks along the river But The Merrimack couldn’t find her way when fabric moguls migrated south Fascinated by nylon nasties they traded their silks and cottons for those petro-polyesterdays While she— could no more manufacture life than mint their money So, they blamed her Pronounced her—“Dead” Decried her ***** Now— She wanders sadly under bridges stopping to eddy in an overhang of birches In dank canals, I found her sleeping angered only at the falls Poor outcast! with current edge she splinters light from cities sadder still retching her oily stench past Plum Island into the sea— into me What’re a few warm tears falling from someplace on a bridge to the icy waters of the Merrimack? Rivers get lost in the ocean don’t they? Let them find each other there

0

Mar 27, 2017

Mar 27, 2017 at 12:49 AM UTC

elizabeth-balise

Rivers Get Lost

The right winter for dope and ice for walks along the river route home The right winter for arctic pin-prick wind holes in boots turquoise dress coat far too thin for walks along the river But The Merrimack couldn’t find her way when fabric moguls migrated south Fascinated by nylon nasties they traded their silks and cottons for those petro-polyesterdays While she— could no more manufacture life than mint their money So, they blamed her Pronounced her—“Dead” Decried her ***** Now— She wanders sadly under bridges stopping to eddy in an overhang of birches In dank canals, I found her sleeping angered only at the falls Poor outcast! with current edge she splinters light from cities sadder still retching her oily stench past Plum Island into the sea— into me What’re a few warm tears falling from someplace on a bridge to the icy waters of the Merrimack? Rivers get lost in the ocean don’t they? Let them find each other there

37

Waking up one morning It's a normal kind of day Only there are bulldozers on their way It goes this way: At the end of your driveway down to the right in front of the picket fence The land is graded a horizontal drill brought in made to feel at home You see, We you me may own the land But the mineral rights are theirs A concrete utility structure goes up, in what do you think? About three weeks? Chemicals are shot horizontally under the land under the house to release the gas from the sand While the ground water is fearfully shivering it knows its days are numbered. The concrete utility chimney pouring out chemical smoke 24 hours a day. The County says, "What do you expect us to do?" The State says ***** You " Cancer clusters Sick kids Chemical water tasting very weird Guess what? Whether it be our 89,000 189,000 or 889,000 dollar American dream home The dog is going to be taking a **** in the backyard claiming ownership. Welcome to LA too No matter where you are Every other day the earth is shaking buildings tumbling Dance Dance Dance Dots on a map thousands of them all around us coming our way. Better take a drive next time on talk radio "Drill baby Drill" All hail Exxon Cars love Shell Gasoline The old USA ******* gas And it sure ain't nitrous cars idoling on a stop and go freeway finding our true purpose a grounded oil derreck for the Koch Brothers He who pays the piper calls the tune Oh yeah Drill baby Drill I'm heading up Highway 101 The Earth hot and ***** for a new life form Welcome to the new world order Welcome to the new USA Purloined, poisoned, polluted The United Petro States of America. Hey Hey Hey

0

Dec 15, 2016

Dec 15, 2016 at 12:27 PM UTC

sjr1000

Friggin' Fracking

Waking up one morning It's a normal kind of day Only there are bulldozers on their way It goes this way: At the end of your driveway down to the right in front of the picket fence The land is graded a horizontal drill brought in made to feel at home You see, We you me may own the land But the mineral rights are theirs A concrete utility structure goes up, in what do you think? About three weeks? Chemicals are shot horizontally under the land under the house to release the gas from the sand While the ground water is fearfully shivering it knows its days are numbered. The concrete utility chimney pouring out chemical smoke 24 hours a day. The County says, "What do you expect us to do?" The State says ***** You " Cancer clusters Sick kids Chemical water tasting very weird Guess what? Whether it be our 89,000 189,000 or 889,000 dollar American dream home The dog is going to be taking a **** in the backyard claiming ownership. Welcome to LA too No matter where you are Every other day the earth is shaking buildings tumbling Dance Dance Dance Dots on a map thousands of them all around us coming our way. Better take a drive next time on talk radio "Drill baby Drill" All hail Exxon Cars love Shell Gasoline The old USA ******* gas And it sure ain't nitrous cars idoling on a stop and go freeway finding our true purpose a grounded oil derreck for the Koch Brothers He who pays the piper calls the tune Oh yeah Drill baby Drill I'm heading up Highway 101 The Earth hot and ***** for a new life form Welcome to the new world order Welcome to the new USA Purloined, poisoned, polluted The United Petro States of America. Hey Hey Hey

75

Why yes, I dated Taylor Swift And no, she didn't write a song on it I'm not quite sure what that means Unless it is she still likes me That might be the explanation why I catch her out of the corner of my eye It makes perfect sense now I believe That Taylor Swift is stalking me When she found out that I like to rock She went straight from Country into Pop Any country bumpkin can plainly see That Taylor still has eyes for me When I'm out shopping at the Grocery store And I catch her sneaking down isle 4 Taylor girl you can't fool me Your not only here for the Pickled Beets The other day my car dinged low on fuel So I pulled in for Petro and to check the oil You'll never guess who's pumping gas Do you really even need to ask And when it is I'm home alone There's that ring of the late night call With heavy breathing on the end of the phone To the tune of Shake It Off I'm a bit more worried than I am flattered She seems these days Mad as a Hatter Who after all this would not believe That Taylor Swift is stalking me

0

Dec 1, 2014

Dec 1, 2014 at 4:21 PM UTC

mike-hauser

Taylor Swift is Stalking Me

Why yes, I dated Taylor Swift And no, she didn't write a song on it I'm not quite sure what that means Unless it is she still likes me That might be the explanation why I catch her out of the corner of my eye It makes perfect sense now I believe That Taylor Swift is stalking me When she found out that I like to rock She went straight from Country into Pop Any country bumpkin can plainly see That Taylor still has eyes for me When I'm out shopping at the Grocery store And I catch her sneaking down isle 4 Taylor girl you can't fool me Your not only here for the Pickled Beets The other day my car dinged low on fuel So I pulled in for Petro and to check the oil You'll never guess who's pumping gas Do you really even need to ask And when it is I'm home alone There's that ring of the late night call With heavy breathing on the end of the phone To the tune of Shake It Off I'm a bit more worried than I am flattered She seems these days Mad as a Hatter Who after all this would not believe That Taylor Swift is stalking me

28

I live in Chemical Valley. It sounds horrible: Better you than me. Perhaps. I grew up here, Where the southern sky burns Bloodstone red, Mixing colours with the evening suns. The St. Clair carries Huron's ghostly horns Past the flaring refineries, To Detroit's waters. We have stop signs And other amenities Small cities are proud to maintain. I heard the housing market Is sustained on the divorce rate, And not the petro-chemical industry; We're closing another high school next year; And there was a gruesome woodlot-rape/murder Last week on the Reserve. Maniacs living out some sick web-site. But the soccer pitches are full, And our Mayor is the longest serving one in Canada. Just around the corner (everything is just around the corner), Our flag flies over the bones of our second Prime Minister, (he's from Edinburgh, Scotland); I've walked a good stretch of the fifty miles Of beach we have running north, Past cottages, parks, camps, etc. We've way too many pot-holes; And for many years, We were featured on the ten dollar bill. But the new houses! Who is buying them as we move eastward, Away from the lake and river? Newly minted single moms; Rejected men. We lived in one house, Once, One house. We now occupy five. Two of which Are too far away From Chemical Valley.

0

Apr 26, 2016

Apr 26, 2016 at 10:22 PM UTC

francie-lynch

Far Away From Chemical Valley

I live in Chemical Valley. It sounds horrible: Better you than me. Perhaps. I grew up here, Where the southern sky burns Bloodstone red, Mixing colours with the evening suns. The St. Clair carries Huron's ghostly horns Past the flaring refineries, To Detroit's waters. We have stop signs And other amenities Small cities are proud to maintain. I heard the housing market Is sustained on the divorce rate, And not the petro-chemical industry; We're closing another high school next year; And there was a gruesome woodlot-rape/murder Last week on the Reserve. Maniacs living out some sick web-site. But the soccer pitches are full, And our Mayor is the longest serving one in Canada. Just around the corner (everything is just around the corner), Our flag flies over the bones of our second Prime Minister, (he's from Edinburgh, Scotland); I've walked a good stretch of the fifty miles Of beach we have running north, Past cottages, parks, camps, etc. We've way too many pot-holes; And for many years, We were featured on the ten dollar bill. But the new houses! Who is buying them as we move eastward, Away from the lake and river? Newly minted single moms; Rejected men. We lived in one house, Once, One house. We now occupy five. Two of which Are too far away From Chemical Valley.

45

Imagine this centered: And lunch with Kirk and Uncle Bubby Even the birds are staying home today Those flocks and flights whose accustomed spirals Make animate the skies are grounded by frost And leave the waters of the marsh in peace Young men uniformed in Nomex 1 and beards Spiral into Hollier’s Cajun Kitchen From the barges and the maintenance shops, Cracking units, pipelines and hotshot rigs They are smart, tough, and strong; they fuel the world And pose for pictures with the concrete pig 2 1 Nomex is a flame-resistant material developed by DuPont and is worn by workers in many industries, especially petro-chemicals. The man or woman in Nomex keeps our cars, our lights, and our lives functioning. 2 There are in fact two concrete pigs outside Hollier’s (pronounced “O-Yays,” says Uncle Bubby).

0

Jan 5, 2019

Jan 5, 2019 at 8:54 PM UTC

lawrence-hall

Acadiana in January: Lunch with Kirk and Uncle Bubby

Imagine this centered: And lunch with Kirk and Uncle Bubby Even the birds are staying home today Those flocks and flights whose accustomed spirals Make animate the skies are grounded by frost And leave the waters of the marsh in peace Young men uniformed in Nomex 1 and beards Spiral into Hollier’s Cajun Kitchen From the barges and the maintenance shops, Cracking units, pipelines and hotshot rigs They are smart, tough, and strong; they fuel the world And pose for pictures with the concrete pig 2 1 Nomex is a flame-resistant material developed by DuPont and is worn by workers in many industries, especially petro-chemicals. The man or woman in Nomex keeps our cars, our lights, and our lives functioning. 2 There are in fact two concrete pigs outside Hollier’s (pronounced “O-Yays,” says Uncle Bubby).

13

I Wrote her a love letter but she dropped it. No money for the metro so we hopped it. No money for the petro so I hocked a loogie Then pawnshop hocked it: Spitting that sick **** for profit. We sat prostrate in front of our profit, then, With her wet wig at the end of my mop-stick. Check her prospects, then, blurry her optics. We fly out in a flurry of topics. I'm the nit-wit in her twit-pics: The photo-bomber. But she stopped its clock-ticks when she cropped it. I should have told her, I'm so fly she would die in my cock-pit. And the Black Box is, The love letter in her back pocket but she dropped it.

0

Feb 12, 2015

Feb 12, 2015 at 1:05 PM UTC

mutulu-kafele

"Dropped It" Jazz

I Wrote her a love letter but she dropped it. No money for the metro so we hopped it. No money for the petro so I hocked a loogie Then pawnshop hocked it: Spitting that sick **** for profit. We sat prostrate in front of our profit, then, With her wet wig at the end of my mop-stick. Check her prospects, then, blurry her optics. We fly out in a flurry of topics. I'm the nit-wit in her twit-pics: The photo-bomber. But she stopped its clock-ticks when she cropped it. I should have told her, I'm so fly she would die in my cock-pit. And the Black Box is, The love letter in her back pocket but she dropped it.

16

For the last five hundred years, posh “society,” is where the wealthiest and most influential people in the world mingled, inter-married and conducted business. If you’ve ever watched “Downton Abbey”, “The Gilded Age” or even “Crazy Rich Asians” you’ll know what I mean. Maslow’s hierarchy of needs - a psychological pyramid that describes human fulfillment - states that part of our human nature (once your basic needs are met) is the desire to attain social position. Having mere wealth is just not enough once you are in the top levels of achievement. In the 1970’s Arab money started pouring into the west. Arab petro-dollars bought swaths of land in the UK, in London and New York. The Arabs dazzled everyone with their wealth and bling but they never penetrated posh society. Then in the 90s the second, Asian wave, of new wealth washed eastward and they had a bit more success in society. But starting about 20 years after the fall of the Soviet Union, Russians started coming to the west with new money to invest - in the UK, in particular. Russia became the billionaire capital of the world, oligarchs were everywhere buying anything not nailed down and eventually trying to insinuate themselves into posh “society”. Tatler (THE magazine of society) even began publishing a Russian version. If you were a wealthy Russian, you were moving up. By 2022, they weren’t too far from the edge of REAL success. That’s what evaporated three weeks ago - with the invasion of Ukraine - Russia’s luxury infrastructure and their hopes of acceptance into posh society. Gucci, Chanel, Hermès, Dior, Apple and Tatler (just to name a few luxury brands) have left Russia to rot. If you’re Russian now, the chances of being admitted into posh society are gone for the next 20 years - at least. You may say “so what?” Well, one way a dictator holds onto power is through mercantile largess. The granting of rights within the Russian sphere of influence - to control and distribute goods and services - is how oligarchs are created. The support of these oligarchs is important and transactional. A man with a 100-million dollar yacht - looking at what chunks of their wealth may well be confiscated in the west - or lost to the Ruble’s collapse - could easily offer life-changing wealth to any henchman willing to end Putin one way or another. Will this happen? I don’t know. But this is the system they’ve set up for themselves.

0

Mar 22, 2022

Mar 22, 2022 at 4:12 PM UTC

anaisvionet

Ru$$ia

For the last five hundred years, posh “society,” is where the wealthiest and most influential people in the world mingled, inter-married and conducted business. If you’ve ever watched “Downton Abbey”, “The Gilded Age” or even “Crazy Rich Asians” you’ll know what I mean. Maslow’s hierarchy of needs - a psychological pyramid that describes human fulfillment - states that part of our human nature (once your basic needs are met) is the desire to attain social position. Having mere wealth is just not enough once you are in the top levels of achievement. In the 1970’s Arab money started pouring into the west. Arab petro-dollars bought swaths of land in the UK, in London and New York. The Arabs dazzled everyone with their wealth and bling but they never penetrated posh society. Then in the 90s the second, Asian wave, of new wealth washed eastward and they had a bit more success in society. But starting about 20 years after the fall of the Soviet Union, Russians started coming to the west with new money to invest - in the UK, in particular. Russia became the billionaire capital of the world, oligarchs were everywhere buying anything not nailed down and eventually trying to insinuate themselves into posh “society”. Tatler (THE magazine of society) even began publishing a Russian version. If you were a wealthy Russian, you were moving up. By 2022, they weren’t too far from the edge of REAL success. That’s what evaporated three weeks ago - with the invasion of Ukraine - Russia’s luxury infrastructure and their hopes of acceptance into posh society. Gucci, Chanel, Hermès, Dior, Apple and Tatler (just to name a few luxury brands) have left Russia to rot. If you’re Russian now, the chances of being admitted into posh society are gone for the next 20 years - at least. You may say “so what?” Well, one way a dictator holds onto power is through mercantile largess. The granting of rights within the Russian sphere of influence - to control and distribute goods and services - is how oligarchs are created. The support of these oligarchs is important and transactional. A man with a 100-million dollar yacht - looking at what chunks of their wealth may well be confiscated in the west - or lost to the Ruble’s collapse - could easily offer life-changing wealth to any henchman willing to end Putin one way or another. Will this happen? I don’t know. But this is the system they’ve set up for themselves.

9

i have been warned by authorities, i have read in all books and magazines, i am petro and you are a naked flame, am a wolverine and you are my moon, you make me howl, and i scare the ones i love. You taste sweet on my lips but will sicken me you make my heart leap, but to cease it you will, i promise never to talk to you, and i find my self near you this addiction is worse that thirst for air. our combination is world war 3, our articulation is lightening earthquake and hurricane our future is so grim drains all colours and bleak but our pull not just magnetic it deadly gravitational i look at you never kissed you, never had you i think of you, and pages i write of events not done. i speak to you, and creepy feelings fill me as i take another sniff of my human *******

0

Jul 13, 2018

Jul 13, 2018 at 3:49 PM UTC

alex-nyaga-ikingi

my *******

i have been warned by authorities, i have read in all books and magazines, i am petro and you are a naked flame, am a wolverine and you are my moon, you make me howl, and i scare the ones i love. You taste sweet on my lips but will sicken me you make my heart leap, but to cease it you will, i promise never to talk to you, and i find my self near you this addiction is worse that thirst for air. our combination is world war 3, our articulation is lightening earthquake and hurricane our future is so grim drains all colours and bleak but our pull not just magnetic it deadly gravitational i look at you never kissed you, never had you i think of you, and pages i write of events not done. i speak to you, and creepy feelings fill me as i take another sniff of my human *******

17

A little not to Kiri Petro Sino Some phantasms are like my lovers Neither faithful nor trustworthy My memories of them is slippery Not kind, but phantasms This left a bad taste in my mouth Sad as it might seem: I do not sympathize Not all phantasms were my lovers I think of them on bad days, Some are losers, wearing the badge of shame Not publicize, but hidden like a crouching tiger with it hidden sword: They hid behind the skirt of their new loves: griping, They defeats and their regrets in life shows in their everyday life *Forgiveness is an act of self-love and respect. - don Miguel Ruiz* My kind of forgiveness might be an emotion Its turning that page of my life: Without reading the Contents to the end smoothed me Some of my phantasms are my everyday peers I think of them as lost poets without words deep with their thoughts: individuals who are afraid to express themselves to the fullest.

0

Oct 30, 2017

Oct 30, 2017 at 11:30 AM UTC

darknbeautiful-1

Griping

A little not to Kiri Petro Sino Some phantasms are like my lovers Neither faithful nor trustworthy My memories of them is slippery Not kind, but phantasms This left a bad taste in my mouth Sad as it might seem: I do not sympathize Not all phantasms were my lovers I think of them on bad days, Some are losers, wearing the badge of shame Not publicize, but hidden like a crouching tiger with it hidden sword: They hid behind the skirt of their new loves: griping, They defeats and their regrets in life shows in their everyday life *Forgiveness is an act of self-love and respect. - don Miguel Ruiz* My kind of forgiveness might be an emotion Its turning that page of my life: Without reading the Contents to the end smoothed me Some of my phantasms are my everyday peers I think of them as lost poets without words deep with their thoughts: individuals who are afraid to express themselves to the fullest.

22