"plutonic" poems
The air is burly
trees harvest soldiers on the line
combines, threads, manure, life--
A whole world lost amidst the flats
Saplings are the next season's
Almonds, Apples, Dates,
Waiting for food shelves and stockrooms
packed in banana boxes and given a place
They will find the plates of capitol city dwellers
They will be engorged far away from their origins
The Sierra-- oh the great plutonic mass
They are grey from age, peppered with white whiskers of snow
They are asking to be known as the interior
Pilgrims who traveled over their spines, seeking these fertile swampland
Now airstrips and dirigibles
The edges of clouds on the valley, the deserts and the mountains like folds of a book
they crackle in the sun and the skin of the earth shrinks in its gaze
Migratory birds dance in the fields, the lowly clang of bell
Bleached american flags tell us this is the land
The land of things and endless breadth
This is only California, but the majesty of it
a gem valley encased by the rocks, in silicates
A roaming place for cows, wanderers, farmers, dreams
Where the only edge of things is the mountains, saying
-Climb me, surmount me, lay me under your deeds-
Dec 14, 2018
Dec 14, 2018 at 12:26 PM UTC
(RING)
There are nasty rumors about you two!
"None of it is true!"
You know I believe you.
"I'd expect you to kick my **** too!"
That's exactly what I would do!
Just make sure this plutonic relationship is through!
(FOUR MONTHS LATER)
Meeting, heart attack, rumors again!
Believing he will tell me, he didn't descend.
Planned a visit to see my sick friend.
Then, I learned the facts that truly offend.
Could not go, I do not pretend!
Thought to myself, this will be his end.
(NEXT DAY...RING)
"Your old friend is dead....
He shot himself in the head!"
I was afraid this would be said.
This was a community he once lead.
He, himself, cut the last thread.
(REACTION)
You son of a *****
You son of a *****
You took the easy way out, tossed everyone else in a ditch!
(REFLECTION)
This betrayal of a community left so much dread.
It left a once loved man, dead,
And a young lady, who will never be right in the head!
(BETRAYAL)
You betrayed all who put you on a shelf.
But most of all, you betrayed yourself.
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 6:09 PM UTC
As I was changing my settings I noticed
Explicit poetry, by default, is hidden.
What is poetry but the explicit?
The clarity of everyday
Are melodies of vulgarity
Strung together.
Tinsel on the shit-tree.
And when you poets talk of love
The plutonic is a bore.
You say beauty as a synonym
For *******
BEAUTY IS *******
*********
If hellopoetry has a swear jar I owe a lot
But at least I don't hide what I say.
Aug 15, 2016
Aug 15, 2016 at 9:40 AM UTC
All I want is someone
Someone to hug
In a not so plutonic way.
I want to hold hands
With interlocking fingers
Swing arms like a pendulum
While we walk down the street.
I want to talk for hours
About everything and nothing.
I just want to talk to you
It doesn't matter
What words fill the empty space
As long as they're there.
As long as you're there.
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 7:41 PM UTC
*have you read the book of lies
such a comfort
to know how acceptable we are
like well placed silverware
as long as i keep moon shadow
in a cellar box shut tight
where little cocka demons
play unuttered
you can't hear them rustling about
but
i shake little bats and owls from my socks
am i lookin congenial today
just a teensy icky inside
bubbles in the belly
clinched toes in crowded shoes
eek
hope i'm not dead and don't know it
my graciousness plastered on
like white sheep over a goat
to get what i need of course
to make friends and influence
sorry
about my ti ti ticks
the way my fi fi fingers fi fi fidget
my towels are folded
and in place
vanilla cup cakes with sprinkles
all in a row
like little ballerinas prancing
as plutonic volcanoes heat
like spires pandemonium
my life a white glove inspection
all pressed and starched
like a mythic poem
written by a ******
stiff with holiness
as saints float over my head
yet the world
for all my good
a thunderous
black light*
Jun 28, 2017
Jun 28, 2017 at 2:12 PM UTC
You know
I was thinking how much
I'd like to just leave it all behind
and let loose like a mad
rebel with plenty of caws
flitting through sunlight that creeps
through the trees
because anymore
I can't get behind another day of
constantly dragging on more
supposed last toxin riddles
while your hands become these frail metastatic
cooling tower fingers
I can already see them already shaking off
clinched jaw fuel droplets
onto cancerous rancid mass graves
and I don't want to imagine what's beyond that
Besides
lately I've been preoccupied
with the feel of timeworn ciphers etched
in my charcoal wings as I
descend on power lines joining
scorched throat jesters cackling murderously
at this scorched earth
See I want to get away from our plutonic friends
all they want is to binge on residual radiation
raising their safety glasses to their excesses
knowing their acceptable risk deformities await
with contaminated breath
Sure we've got a reputation of being devious
but I'd rather proudly flaunt tattered onyx feathers
than sit around with
decaying radioactive half lives surrounding
inactive decaying half lives abounding
We crows scavenge our meals indiscriminately
but we don't dare eat our young as you do
Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 10:35 AM UTC
The ordinates concealed in your infinitesimal rationale
Insufficiencies portraying vestibules in your feverish attires
Every new soul you see makes you feel homeless
Dizzying altitudes you feel inside the depth of cavities
Indifference on pain and sufferings you crave for
And,
Hell; you feel inside grandeurs of perspectives
Hate; for the dearth of adulation on you
Liken Gaia could have never taught you of your frailty
Postulation of Karma and de-carnation of meanings made you converted
You were on the path of revolt
Against, say, cosmos!
Every symbolic gestures remind me of your meddlings
Penultimate; utter grievance of never ending poignancy
The night sky could have never baffled about your existence
Palpitation could have never made you shiver
But you have cried,
Of your loneliness!
Say,
A tiny fraction of clairvoyance I gave
Pulled you down into the puddle of wanderings
Instigation of a melody; created the symphony
A mere touch; drenched you into the silken lake
I spoke for your heart and you praised
Then, I gave you love but I got caged
How could I have done whatever you wished?
Since nobody knows,
The culminating dichotomy of your pantheistic ideas,
And of a maggot growing inside you
Breathless desires governing your feet,
And the time falsifying your plutonic ancestry
Mosaic glittering over your virtuous self,
And the tapestry of vanity covering your abysses
Depleting number of Hordes and Tartars fighting for your existence,
And devalued meaning of your modern-self
All those songs that never could soothe you
Teeny panting of your blasphemous heart
Multitude of distances you travelled
Series of condemnation bouncing between you and me
Your fleeting poverty
Your affections on materials
Like you die the death of pertinence
Love shall never please you
Nonchalant, over the,
Embargo you created on the faith
And the game you created on the bliss
But you shall never win
Since, you are a mere human soul
Bless you!!
Sep 2, 2018
Sep 2, 2018 at 7:52 AM UTC
Ice caps
Mushrooms with frost on their mycelium
The ceiling of the earth tearing,
Dropping liquid ****** to give quick interest
Outside the planets twirl and explode from small rocks
Impact like pebbles on a great salt lake
The ripples of death create movement
Momentous Momentum
Violative but oh so real
Not too kind but who needs to be
Break down walls and streets and building facades
Say hey, bullets of mind should try again,
Hit something new, slit the hole of older jeans
Plop your tetrapedes between the planet matter and look good for once
Clean unwashed blue and painful on the junk
These favorites are just irises, asking to see themselves selfish and alone
Always alone in the body of god
Always a single cell in the larger overall
Pull-ups and getting down to work
Unsheathed from sleeves and lost in only the most bare of skins
Speaking to the lovers of Horus, seeking sunlight between the zippers of their minds
Rings out the bells, love, death, destruct
All the conscious constructions of the mind
Always of the mind
Never in divine
Jan 8, 2019
Jan 8, 2019 at 3:11 PM UTC
How long is history made
20,000 years or three hundred?
The dedham cracked, releasing as it calved the chip on its shoulder
A glacial erratic
A plutonic catastrophe
Or a geologic pilgrim
Which we call Plymouth Rock.
When we landed on the chip,
It broke once, twice, and its demolition continues as tourists whittle down the stone to its smallest of meanings
A sedimentary token of mistaken intention.
I wonder how long we shall be here.
I think the truth is found in the dwindling stone.
Nov 22, 2018
Nov 22, 2018 at 10:03 AM UTC
How does one traverse the distance
Between two hearts separated by love
How can one pass the infinite expanse
Of time created by their loneliness
Will their longing and heartache
Explode Like a supernova
Creating a vortex
That sends them both spiraling
Into an abyssal plutonic existence
Or will their passion and desire
Be strong enough to bend and warp the continuum
Bringing the far ends of the universe
In upon its self
Allowing their love to join once again
Creating a intergalactic paradox
Of celestial oneness
Jan 20, 2018
Jan 20, 2018 at 4:46 PM UTC