"piston" poems
They enter as animals from the outer
Space of holly where spikes
Are not thoughts I turn on, like a Yogi,
But greenness, darkness so pure
They freeze and are.
O God, I am not like you
In your vacuous black,
Stars stuck all over, bright stupid confetti.
Eternity bores me,
I never wanted it.
What I love is
The piston in motion ----
My soul dies before it.
And the hooves of the horses,
There merciless churn.
And you, great Stasis ----
What is so great in that!
Is it a tiger this year, this roar at the door?
It is a Christus,
The awful
God-bit in him
Dying to fly and be done with it?
The blood berries are themselves, they are very still.
The hooves will not have it,
In blue distance the pistons hiss.
13.6k
Premeditated Amnesia 1
For nothing here is old, save for deep layers
Of moss and muck and mouldering remains
Civilisations lit by visions and fire
Now lost beneath a Wal-Mart Parking lot
Incuriously the tentacles of Now
Slither more deeply into the pale past
And churn up yet another housing estate
At the corner of Kingsford Lane and Heather Way
Near the Motorcycle Church, for piston prayers:
For nothing here is old, save for deep layers
1”The U.S. is probably the contemporary world’s purest example of a society which is perpetually trying to abolish history, to avoid thinking in historical terms, to associate dynamism with premeditated amnesia.” -Alexander Woodside quoted by Susan Sontag:
https://bostonreview.net/susan-sontag-interview-geoffrey-movius?utm_source=Boston+Review+Email+Subscribers&utm_campaign=b581739691-EMAIL_CAMPAIGN_2018_08_17_04_17_COPY_01&utm_medium=email&utm_term=0_2cb428c5ad-b581739691-41080789
Nov 18, 2018
Nov 18, 2018 at 4:19 PM UTC
She closed one grey eye
and watched as
the now
scortched
diamond dust
slowly
settled into a
small
pool at
the bottom
of the bubble.
A tiny heart pounded
like a turbine piston
hard and relentless
against her bare,
freckled dressed chest.
Small beads of
sweat formed
then dried almost
immeditly
down her bare back
and in between
the small mounds
she wore as *******
She closed her right eye and
held the wand
up towards the
bare bulb light.
She watched transfixed
as the once delicate,
man made,
toxic concoction
that was now
a heated puddle
of stimuli cooled.
Then brought forth images
of great stretching snow flakes
and shattered
diamonds reaching
all throughout
the bubble tipped
tool she had
taken in as a lover.
And there will
be no sleep
tonight for the
Down Town dealers
and this delicate
lost soul with
diamonds
in her eyes.
Theres too many
memories that
need to be
tamed ,
too many
nightmares to
give in to sleep.
Stay awake ,
create more time
and consume every bad
thing that's before
you.
Seek out a cold
place in the night,
then stare at the heavens
while shaking
a clenched fist upon
the serpents.
As our world reveals
more another
falls,picks up
a tool and
turns to what works.
Choosing the
easy way out
is never an easy
decision.
As crystals cool
then melt again
another decision has
turned to
death in the
form of a captive
life without
freedom enough to
care or breath.
She walked toward
the window and
stood naked
and high before
the city.
A tear tumbled
and dried
before it ever
left her face.
Another diamond
obsessed ,dreamless
dreamer,
waiting out the
night,dealing with
the madness and
sharing none
of her horrors
with the shadowed
world she was forced
to haunt.
Living every hour
wide awake,
wired and full
of pills.
Desperate for some
other place thats
far away from here.
Slowly
and quietly
dying an older
souls death.
Far before
what should
have been
her peaceful
and merciful
kind of ending.
Sep 22, 2013
Sep 22, 2013 at 2:57 AM UTC
She's the attention grabber
Attention all!
Her attention to detail
Is noticeable
Notice not me
The attention *****
Lackluster childlike smile
Is such a bore
The limits are nonexistent
Working like a piston
Notice me
I'm noticeable
Do not appreciate
My childish jokes
I'm here for your entertainment
I'm not a hoax
Cast a glance in my general direction
I'm only looking for alittle affection
I'll yell it at the loudest decibel
Notice me
I'm noticeable
Aug 11, 2010
Aug 11, 2010 at 9:55 AM UTC
Words. Work.
Getting old. ***** shirt.
Exhaustion remains after washing away stains from dirt.
Lower back hurts,
..but this mindstate is not where I'll stay.
Meaningless pay spending my hours when I just want to create and play.
Heavy body, cat nap after embers hit the ashtray. Astral stray.
The most nutritious are sometimes the first to decay.
Get up just to lay.
Easy to see darkness when there's no heart in the frame..
So I'll adjust how I see, and remember to breathe,
because all of life comes to us with ease.
Gonna physically release just to come back and share my dream
Yes yes, nothing less.
Do what you love
is all I can confess.
Limited time, I see that we're blessed
Hope to make the most of mine,
before in peace we rest
Death sentence. Moral Repentance.
In the age of remembrance blinded by pyrotechnics.
Embody the calisthenics and honor further than aesthetics.
Depths beyond measurement kissing anti-venom lips.
Tethered to the weather within our steady blissful trips.
The clock can tick all it wants but the hands are losing their grip. Proving nothing to be more beautiful than this present-tense eclipse
Intuition is our intangible compass
Creating a compassionate instance that can't be diminished
I am hear forever to play with the trinkets and parade those that listen
Love is all encompassing, not just a mission
Thoughts come to fruition
Extending what you envision
The Synapse fires like a piston
What you've done indicates your current position.
Think now my friend.
You are the sun shining at the podium speaking at the perceived end.
You are the sum dictating everything yet to come.
Thank you for praising the vibration connected to one.
Take a deep breath, smile, and have fun.
This strong web we've achieved can never be unspun.
Reflect your true self and know we've only just begun~
Feb 13, 2017
Feb 13, 2017 at 7:52 PM UTC
I drove dad’s Chevy for the first time one Sunday morning
In a storm.
His old, blue, dented, beat-up, ninety-seven Chevy.
In a storm!
Who would have even let me take control
Of this two-ton machine on a sunny day, when
The raindrops didn’t cover the windshield like a blanket,
And the wipers actually helped to push them aside?
When I couldn’t see my scared reflection in the puddles on the road?
When the worn down tires had traction on the asphalt?
I was going thirteen in a thirty-five, and the
Old woman behind me honked her horn at me
To the tune of a song abundant with cursing.
My heart was beating at the speed of the piston’s pumping,
And my knuckles were white on the wheel
Like little snow-capped mountains.
I was inches from the wheel, and I looked over the windshield
Like a kid at an ice cream store, only
My eyes were not filled with hope for a
Rocky road sundae.
Dad, on the other hand,
Was as calm as the patter of the rain on the sunroof;
Relaxed as the trees in their suburban backyards.
I guess it all goes to show you
How much faith my father has in me.
Or,
How stupid and stubborn he can be sometimes.
But aren’t those really just the same things?
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 8:58 PM UTC
At a time where it seems so very hard, for me just to feel alive.
all I wanted then, was to drive
As ridiculous as it seems
it was the stuff of my dreams
all I needed was my car and vacant 4am roads.
Going through the gears, as if they were my final years
piston tatted-ring finger; hand firmly wrapped around the wheel
braking late into the corner
locking up the alloy steel wheels on my automobile
the tires squeal
waltzing them back into rotation as I find the threshold
clutch in
twist of the leg at the hip, I blip the throttle with my heel
down into second
one swift movement
un-burnt fuel erupts in the pipes.
blitzing through the off ramp
keeping it tight, clipping the manhole cover in the apex
pedal flat coming out, bounce the tach' as its not worth the upshift
pitch the car into the long sweeping overpass bend
the back end kicks out on decel'
counter steer and slam the accelerator back into the bare metal floor
front wheels clawing in the direction that I please
keys slapping my knees
straighten out and I ease her back home.
reverse down into the narrow; dimly lit garage
as I climb out, I can feel the heat radiating from the machine I built
hot oil ticking as it finds its way back to the pan
I stand and watch my car slowly disappear behind the garage door
it is but another night survived
for both of us.
Sep 18, 2017
Sep 18, 2017 at 1:47 AM UTC
In aloneness
all in oneness
thoughts trickle
never end
but never mend
these scars
The gravitas
weight of words
push and piston
beating heart
the rise and fall
of chests
Cold and candour
truths in clamour
cresting waves
the callous pull
in quiet calm
the moon
And so I gaze
in silent praise
the constellations
glinting stars
in tessellation
your eyes
As I became
so garrulous
and perilous
chit and chatter
careless talk
to self
While I beheld
the universe
reflected
in reverse
your eyes
the skies
Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 7:21 AM UTC
since i turned into a nocturnal creature i’ve changed a bit,
i started the theological arithmetic:
(right hand) thumb, index, middle finger(s) -
january february march,
ring, pinky & pinky (left hand) -
april may june,
ring middle index (left hand)
july august september -
thumb (left hand) thumb and index (right hand)...
of yes, intelligent design...
now make a hole using your thumb & index finger,
then ensure your thumb goes in & out from that whole...
like god, say: oh **** i forgot the piston!
guess what’s the slang term for a russian in polish?
kacap.
guess what’s the slang term for a german in polish?
szwab (shvab) /
i know, i too wish it was sax...aphone.
guess what’s the slang term for a dwarf in polish?
karakan.
but i said, there are really two branches from the 20th
century growing into the 21st century,
there’s the proustian branch that’s a cul de sac...
and there’s the joycean branch, that leads to ezra pound et al.,
finnegans wake (which i have read) i can a 50p with an invention
of a terminology: uncoded phoneticism, i.e.
alpha bravo charlie delta echo, only because:
prirates’ aye, eye and lie and high sounded pretty much the same
even though they were spelled differently.
uncoded phoneticism means you use a coding of language
from thought / silence in a way that elevates it
from the standard usage, from novelty interests
of a righteous narrator crafting new characters...
of course your writing will appear chaotic... but in reality
it will not be... trust me... i simulated paranoid schizophrenia
for seven years... fooled three psychiatrists
and regained a chance to provoke.
nicholas ii is smiling at me from a banknote i own,
and i have a kopek’s worth of currency from dostoyevsky’s times.
Dec 4, 2015
Dec 4, 2015 at 7:52 PM UTC
*staring through heat wave shimmer
baring to the sky
thoughts unseen*
1.
watching
picking of peaches in drop-day sun
rows and rows of others
neat aligning synchrony - laden baskets
like well-oiled piston-joints
2.
and when you think nobody looks
a sudden-bite into fleshy-soft ardour
taste oh
of swollen heaven-fruit
*oh ******
accordion-vision spilling of the unexpected
(drip.. drip.. splash.. sink.. )
onto the collar of your cotton-blouse
in slightly off-white splendour
arms thrown up in harvest-fervour
a semi-circle of moist petal
winks at me
from arm-pit labour
a deep flush on cheeks as your locket-eye feels a touch unready
finding my mild-gaze resting on your
rubiest-lips ever seen
3.
later
it is sure
a plumb-matching of that pretty furtive-stain
will be rather fetching
on your light-green peasant-frock
hark now!
the winds will howl in least protest
and
waves off southern-cliff coast
where hardy-souls dare go
will quite steadfast
roar..
in unison
*oh, ice-rains may fall and squalls may blow
yet finest moment-dawning will be
much like..
picking at the ripe-time*
S T - 20 sept
Sep 20, 2013
Sep 20, 2013 at 4:48 AM UTC
NUCLEAR FISSION & A PISTON
distracted by the shine
rebounding resounding wave of care
hit in the chest, square
I am the cylinder and you are the tube
and the way you always move against this liquid love
well, darling you're bound to combust.
it's science.
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 2:24 AM UTC
Anarchy & Chaos
At the pyramids of Kæops
Pandemonium spreads
From the base of the cranium
Bad craziness
Piston engine pistol shot
Duality parallelogram agency
Ink spill
Brain spill
For as far as I know
It could all be on the page
For as far as you know
It could be forever lost...
After all
What is the point?
Organic mammal, Cro-Magnon
Formally leapt up
On two feet
Hello, digital nowhere-man.
Keeps me hydrated
In some strange way
Ink oil drum
Devastating spill
Killing every single thing
On the surface.
But you know what they say
About the iceberg...
...
What Hemingway said anyway.
Revenge
Revenge
Revenge
Heinous
Horrific
VENGEANCE
Let
The
Anchorage
Keel over
And
Die
YOU ARE CARCASSES
decomposing.
Aug 15, 2014
Aug 15, 2014 at 4:47 PM UTC
The circulation has been constricted,
Painful memories indented,
I'm just a mooring of ******
Carrying a shipment of resentment,
My organic piston is done repenting,
My aorta's done it's sifting,
But now I'm down and out,
I'm not worthy of remembering,
The makeup is addicting,
The flesh of my rose is lifting,
And now I've lost my pedals,
Down a river woefully drifting,
There's a thong around my heart,
Tightly squeezing,
The juice of my love,
Now I'm a loveless human being,
Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 8:26 PM UTC
Egypt, Syria, Palestine, Fiji, South America, South Pacific, California, United Nations and Bhutan. For this reason, the *** / AIDS pandemic is worldwide; *** / AIDS epidemic in the United States, South Africa, Africa, Asia, 2016 (2016) and Aspigila / AIDS affects the neurological health. 15, 15, 35, 41, 2. John Young people, teachers, young and poor students in prostitution United States, Macedonia, South Africa, Africa, Egypt, Lebanon, Mexico, Syria, Palestine 9 and AIDS 7, 2016, and 2017 / 1000/1000, United States 201 16 16 Germany and Australia. Some adults VHU 2017/1000/1000 safe in Badakhshan 77cv 5 years, 1-14-18, 41-60, 60-40, 60-60, 60, 60 and two less than 5 minutes 0-2), Latvia 15; 2016 in the United States of America, the United States of America, Aspagazislice, *** / AIDS and *** / AIDS, Kenya, United Arab Emirates, Saudi Arabia, Egypt, Syria, Palestine, Fiji, 2. *** 15 and 15 years of possibilities and possibilities for students "Palestine, Palestine, Syria, Palestine, Yemen 16/1000/1000/1000 United Nations: South Africa 201 201 201 201 201 201 201 201 161 611 002 7 200 200 200 200 200 *** / Baghdad as follows: 1 the joint Clinic and 6-13 men - a cell 5-14-18 41-60 and 60-40 on the piston 2000. Young5 was a modern rocker of 15 in 1958; there were 15 students and 15 teachers in the whole United nations, South Africa, Libya, Liberia, Mexico, Palestine, Egypt, Germany, Libya and AIDS "in the first 60 years." Egypt, Syria, Palestine, Fiji, South America, South Pacific, California, United nations and Bhutan. this is the Reas Oh nfor The *** / AIDS pandemic in the world on *** / AIDS; epidemic in the United States, South Africa, Africa, Asia, and 2016 (2016) and Aspigila / AIDS is affecting the neurological effects on health. 15, 15, 35, 41, John 2. Further training young students, teachers, poor children to play in the United States, Macedonia, South Africa, Africa and Libya, Lebanon, Mexico, Syria, Palestine and 7 to 9 2017/1000 of AIDS, 2016/1000, United States 201 16 16 Germany and Australia. Some of those things are in peace which is the most flourishing estate VHU Badakhshan 2017/1000/1000 car 77cv to the 5 years, 1-14-18, 41-60, 60-40, 60-60 60, the temperature of less than 60 minutes of the two 5 and 0-2) in Latvia; 15, 2016 in the United States of America, the United States of America, Aspagazislice, *** / AIDS and *** / AIDS, Kenya, United Arab Emirates Saudi Arabia, Egypt, Syria, Palestine, Fiji, 2. *** 15 and 15 years of possibilities and possibilities for the students' of Palestine, Syria, Yemen; 16/1000/1000/1000 United Nations: South Africa 200 200 200 201 201 201 201 611 161 200 200 2 201 201 201 201 201 7 *** / Baghdad as follows: 1; and in the diagram to stick in the man's 6-13 - 41-60 and 60-40 5-14-18 the piston in the ark, 2000. Young5 in the year 1958 of a certain rock era and cast in the volume of ADHD is 15 15 15, his disciples went with all the princes, and all those with the temperament of a modern South Africa, Libya with the assistance of the United Nations, Liberia, Mexico, the United States, Egypt and Palestine, and AIDS "the first 60 years."
Nov 28, 2018
Nov 28, 2018 at 11:24 PM UTC
If silence could echo, it would’ve been you;
never much one to talk.
I’d be the last one for you to go to
but I would’ve listened as we sat or took a walk.
You pose as granite,
another lonely planet
Orbiting all that glows, but ****** in a void.
So sure that nobody knows, but slipping out your signs like Freud.
Circling the world as a satellite, but you don’t want to man it.
No one should ever lose their sight,
it’s so easy to lose a lonely planet.
I’ve been thinking of what you’d know
and the places you wanted to go
and all of the life that you’d grow,
we already lost Pluto.
It’s not like we planned it,
another lonely planet.
Spinning out of control, praying for gravity,
you discovered a black hole no one else could see.
With edges that reach such height,
and no one to sand it.
No one should ever lose their sight,
it’s so easy to lose a lonely planet.
No returning, fuel burning, I think we’ve lost a piston.
You’re missing seasons, you’ve got your reasons so please list them;
why you want to leave our solar system.
Maybe you’re pushed but there’s still a pull
you may lack the will to be sustainable.
I wish your oxygen levels would stay at full.
You don’t need to live in a lull.
Orbiting all that glows, but ****** in a void.
You were right; nobody knows, why you chose to stay forever a boy.
Circling the world as a satellite, but you don’t want to man it.
I can’t blame you for losing the fight
but we blame ourselves for losing a lonely planet.
Sep 20, 2025
Sep 20, 2025 at 3:46 PM UTC
Mother thunders toward the bedroom door;
a great steam locomotive huffing and
puffing on piston churning hips,
head of steam and flashing lights
sweep a red warning.
I heed
but she jumps the track,
and suddenly I am beneath
the cold wheels of her wrath,
flailing away,
flesh and bone grinding in the dust,
while her shrill whistle blows.
Dec 9, 2010
Dec 9, 2010 at 3:51 AM UTC
i always fidget with my itches
then itch raw with each digit
of the rigid way we squirm with
words we feel to be explicit
but rearranged we're indifferent
without the frame we're elicit
no stopping shame that exhibits
the way your brain always listens
even in pain it's persistent
you can't prohibit the accident
of unwitting existence
don't say sorry to the superstitious fiction
stay judicious
just ease your mind with the lyrics
and grind the grass to find distance
don't mind, the path meets resistance
the system we're in's nonexistant
i'll build a fire ladder for each fallacy
and scale every rhythm
just cleaning out all desire
mind going off like a piston
mankind don't need this fine attire
but the dior keeps us christian
not built to feed to designers
only a liar does glisten
yet we find ourselves requiring
our own kind of inquisitions
in addiction and prison
a shiny label don't listen
so without your permission
i'll find my own set of prescriptions
Sep 6, 2013
Sep 6, 2013 at 1:29 PM UTC
Needle thin pressures like slivers in my head.
I'm ****** up again.
But you -
you make it really quaint. Hop scotch number count,
1 hit - 2 jumps
it makes it work again-
the piston in my heart.
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 12:09 AM UTC
Sentient
Primate
Alive
Is that the soul or the nerves inside?
Is the brain a soul? or is it hearts
that drives?
Are the lungs the source,
each breath our revive?
Is it but piston and shaft,
within us that survive?
I'll have two liters gear oil.
Synthetic, please. Yes, Premium.
Nov 14, 2018
Nov 14, 2018 at 4:25 PM UTC
all the ******* leave the party early, attired
in cackles, even though stilettos say otherwise,
they laugh and squeamish assort
a waiting line for a mongol tribe:
open all hours minus the sunday,
when jesus' ***** was dried;
got to love a mother of a culprit readied
for sacrifice and prayer lasting 2000 years.
in between the party?
a man walked idly musing his relevance,
he popped a few balloons with his cigarette,
his life flashed before his eye,
notably an error, pornographic photos
flashed before his eyes, not as bad as Gucci and
gob anna in twisted anorexia... **** actresses take
the catwalk... we all revolve around liking curves...
plus **** in *** plus **** in **** plus **** in mouth,
a holy trinity through and through;
there was no offensive image shown,
there was no offensive foghorn sound made,
but she's too eager to censor communication,
says f**k... hush... oompa loompa augustus needs the loo
to **** out the roman empire...
what entertains children breeds a fear for adults...
what entertains adults makes children divvy...
say piston and phallus in a rhyming symbiosis
of tact... welcome you, welcome i;
what doesn't entertain children does entertain adults?
the reality of a mistaken fact that childhood passed?
and of those who's childhood was orphanage?
the free distribution of wealth... or a free distribution of justice
be seriously taken along with vitamins?
burp... are we shining with sun and vitamin c?
perhaps we wished to have netted brown skin
in a spider web of self-producing vitamin d of kenyan origin?
ah i see, sneezes from cayenne peppering.
Jan 23, 2016
Jan 23, 2016 at 6:41 PM UTC
Every thought you have ever had
Whether good or bad
Sprung from the recesses of your mind
A deliberating consciousness that is blind.
Every feeling you have ever felt
Was wound tightly with a deterministic belt
Every word you have ever written
Was written with a hand wearing a causal mitten.
Free-will is an illusion and always has been,
However, this is perhaps one elephant in the room
best left unseen.
Dualism is a false philosophy.
We are a causal system,
In a Universe governed by a causal piston.
Libertarian free will is a delusion.
However comforting it may feel to be free,
I had no other option that to write these words,
And be me.
“Man can do what he wills but he cannot will what he wills.”
― Arthur Schopenhauer, Essays and Aphorisms
Aug 22, 2017
Aug 22, 2017 at 4:53 AM UTC
keep me
in your pocket
where you keep your steam
and hemlock engines burning
piston ******
glamorous
keep me wickedly
kiss you
preach me pink things
winking in avalanche harmonies
sink me
get more my deepening deep think
pitch fork my blunt tongue
wet and glistening
keep me whistling peaches
amorous
let me slave into you
like magma petunias teething
on hips and thighs
let me do
but you
do me
all night be day break mending the moon beams running through buildings
tearing down the sky by blotting out the sunlight
threading beads of sweat into a rainbow in the ****
preying on lips and valleys of
lollipop oysters
let me jolly your
roger
i'm supposed ta !
May 2, 2013
May 2, 2013 at 9:14 PM UTC
The silence of violence
piston knocks
absorbing shocks
not a whimper,word is heard
third time this week
tomorrow she'll seek
a safer place
save her face.
Her black eyes don't cry even she wonders why she put up with it for so long,how could love be so hurtful,
how could she have got it so wrong.
Oct 11, 2013
Oct 11, 2013 at 4:37 PM UTC
When my time is up,
forgive me from such a failure i am,
You earn them all
You sure the most deserving pretty,
Im ignorant and stubborn to keep repeatedly breaking you into fragiles bits
Never actually wanted to wait
Nor listen before the piston blew it
So tell me am I human or are this missing pieces
Trapped in another men's hopes and dreams
Are we simply made of rainbows and sweets
But ome thing for sure,
They're both are temporary
This words won't deceive me
But the other one will leave us a mark
As for the entire time
Well spent assuming.
Maman Screams
Copyright 2016
Apr 2, 2016
Apr 2, 2016 at 12:32 AM UTC