"procure" poems
*I think to be thoughtful
I speak to be heard*
I write to decipher
The truth in my words.
*I smiled to ensnare you
I laughed to secure*
You slipped through the trap
That I built to procure
*I kissed to consume you
I hugged to enfold*
My arms close on nothing
You're no where to hold
*I writhed to entrance you
I clutched you to keep*
Now the place where I hold you
Resides in my dreams.
I write so you'll read this
My hand pens the truth
All that I've written,
I've written for you.
Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 2:20 PM UTC
Love bears all things
- or does it?
I don't know how much more I can take
- but I love him.
I'm scared and weak
- I don't know where I stand.
Back to the beginning
- all over again.
Tired of being reassured
- I don't want reassurance.
I want to reverse our love's senescence
- Its death won't procure my compliance.
Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 3:08 PM UTC
Come, come, awaken all true drunkards!
Pour the wine that is Life itself!
O cupbearer of the Eternal Wine,
Draw it now from Eternity’s Jar!
This wine doesn’t run down the throat
But it looses torrents of words!
Cupbearer, make my soul fragrant as musk,
This noble soul of mine that knows the Invisible!
Pour out the wine for the morning drinkers!
Pour them this subtle and priceless musk!
Pass it around to everyone in the assembly
In the cups of your blazing drunken eyes!
Pass a philter from your eyes to everyone else’s
In a way the mouth knows nothing of,
For this is the way cupbearers always offer
The holy and mysterious wine to lovers.
Hurry, the eyes of every atom in Creation
Are famished for this flaming-out of splendour!
Procure for yourself this fragrance of musk
And with it split open the breast of heaven!
The waves of the fragrance of this musk
Drive all Josephs out of their minds forever!
7.5k
There's a flower in between the rocks
Undesireable unless one seek the flower
In cravices in the shadows of ***** towers
Procure trade on whims of nameless men
Openly or in disguise she thrives due to
Demands, in decadence of her world
The underworld enslave her soul
Like the geisha in *******
Decries a social stigma
Imposing upon her
Remove her off
The streets if
you will
But
She
Will
Come
Back sprouting
Amongst people and rocks
Enticing yet perceived as weeds still.
Feb 5, 2018
Feb 5, 2018 at 6:51 AM UTC
The moon rises high in the sky
To the light of day we say goodbye
As the sun goes away
The wolf comes out to play
The man goes away
And the wolf comes out to play
A ***** of flesh it desires
A primal instinct it requires
It runs with the wind
On a hunt for those who have sinned
To eat their hearts full of mud
It's mouth dripping with dark red blood
Sharp teeth and ragged fur
Protection you cannot procure
To the light of day we say goodbye
As the moon rises high in the sky
The form of man goes away
So the wolf can come out to play
Jul 14, 2020
Jul 14, 2020 at 9:02 PM UTC
We lied we need change
When all we feel is rage
For the government we create
Who don’t feel shake if the economical price inflate
*
We lied we are happy
When we hide in the bathroom; crying
We lied we are living
When we are striving for surviving
*
We lied we are grown
When we are yet to be birth
We lied we are strong
And here we are; paralysed
*
We lied we are in traffic
When we’re still on our bed dreaming
We lied we are set
When with default setting; we’re breathing
*
We lied we want about-move
From politics of Jong-Un
From government of John Bull
And parliaments filled with masters of Kungfu
*
We lied we are in love
When the only thing we feel is lust
We lied we are loved
When the only feeling we procure is hurt
*
We lied we are loyal
When we lust only after the royal one
We lied we are loyal
And when the ox is gored; we run
*
We lied we are in paradise
When in filthiness we dine
Stuck in a big mess
Living in hell; but not minding our business
*
We lied we are responsible
When at the sight of challenge; we flee
We lied we are smart
Whereas we are trickening; coz at the sight of themisticoles; we flee
*
We lied we are beautiful
When our heart is filled with greed and hate
We lied we are pretty
When the pancaked look on our face is manmade
*
We lied we are the future
Saying we are the leaders of tomorrow
We lied; saying we are injured
Whereas we’re completely trapped in hollow
*
We lied we’re from the hood
So no one else to talk to
Coz our lifestyle is not good
And that leaves us in bad mood
*
We lied we are good
When at the depth of our heart; we’re bad
We lied we are confuse
When we’re stuck and which way? We cant conclude
*
We lied to survive the tide
And from the real part of life; we hide
Tell the truth’ man; be freed inside
Oct 21, 2019
Oct 21, 2019 at 11:37 AM UTC
***** from the bottle,
Warm.
Hot dogs from the package,
When your down and *****
The grotesque becomes magic.
Pawning a guitar for a pellet gun,
To procure breakfast.
Squirrel stew in the back of a scamper camper.
Spotlighting bullfrogs,
And mopping floors for a hot meal,
And a cold beer,
And a sympathetic ear.
Nights when the blacktop turned into void,
And the painted lines became a tightrope to nowhere.
Full circle,
Bangor to Frisco,
Any woman who was willing to sleep in the bed of a truck
Was a queen for as long as she stayed,
Always had **** concealed on me,
The copper piece of road currency,
To the gold and silver, of *** and gas.
The exchange rates would change overnight,
But syphon some gas at a truck stop
And it all will be alright.
Misspent youth, following bands
And getting lost along the way.
***** from the bottle,
And hot dogs from the package.
Sep 26, 2012
Sep 26, 2012 at 6:35 PM UTC
**And the Lord spoke in dreams serene
to he, a righteous man within his years,
of mankind's folly, of wickedness,
the Earth to flood with Heaven's tears.
'From the face of the Earth I will cleanse
fowl of the air with feathered wing,
only two from each kind will I spare
neither man nor beast or creeping thing'.
'An Ark to build is My intent
of Gopher wood, three decks high,
many years will thou toil and sweat
but labours fruits will keep thee dry'.
'For thou art blessed, a blameless man
and secure shall be with thy kin
and with sustenance, I will provide for all
upon this Ark, you will abide within'.
Then at God's command, throughout the land
to each and every creature,
two of each, male n' female both to save
... to propagate their future.
So from every forest, from every field
from every byre, to every beach
bird and bat upon the wing, all that crawl
or walk, procure, just two, two of each.
Then on marched they, tooth by hide
ever forward, onward bound
fur and feather side by side
to board the Ark, upon the ground.
Of the days when Noah walked with God
thirty score were his measure in years
and through forty days and forty nights
the deluge prevailed, for those pioneers.
For the fountains of the deep were opened
and the windows of Heaven gaped wide
upon the face of the Earth, the rains fell
and the oceans they blossomed, world wide.
Upon the face of the waters, the Ark rose
until the highest peak with waters advanced
for the days in number, one hundred and fifty
drifting upon that mighty expanse.
Then the 'Lord God' remembered Noah
and caused the great winds to blow
wiping the tears of Heaven away
and closed tight, the deep fountains below.
Then the Ark upon Ararat stumbled
as the mighty waters, slowly withdrew
with the rains restraint, the waters abate
and the crests of the mountains, they grew.
And Noah sends forth both raven and dove
the ravens complaint was to fly 'to and fro'
but, with olive leaf, the dove returns
then flies again thrice, by dawns early glow.
Thirty score plus one, his years then tally
when the waters were dried from upon the Earth,
then Noah walks forth with beasts disembarking
for this was the dawn of the worlds rebirth.
Then God blessed, and bestows man with dominion
over every beast of the ground
over every creature that flounders
over all the birds that abound.
And His covenant with humanity, established
the rainbow, His contract to see
never to cause, such a deluge for man
for that was our Lord's guarantee.**
... ... ...
451
Jul 9, 2011
Jul 9, 2011 at 11:14 PM UTC
What is wrong with using "not"?
It is a negative to an eloquent adjective, verb or noun.
Simply the opposite state of being; which one should NOT frown
For programmers, "not" is a logical complement,
which helps us filter-out things we do NOT want.
And is used sparsely and NOT to flaunt
By simply twisting our thought at 180-degrees,
it's used to portray an abrupt reversal image in our mind.
A quick look at a mirror, and NOT you will find.
Affix a k-, yet "knot" still sounds the same
but it will help keep our things secure.
From our pretzels, shoes and the ribbon-wrapped gifts we procure.
Add an s-, and the children will be amused;
defiance is in its nature, is it NOT?
That is, to disgust their friends with each others snot.
So, to be or NOT to be.
Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 4:18 AM UTC
Surrender if you can't do
or
render if you want to
there is no place
for a defeatist, a flaccid mace.
Cry if you feel so
or
try if you can take the blow
no one remembers the grey
the ashes are forgotten in the tray...
Lie if you feel insecure
or
die in the quest to procure
the wind gratifies the soul
who walks against it with a hunger for galore
Defy if you can't take the heat
else
Comply if you expected the beat
don't sulk and forfeit the game
stand steady and take all the blame
Unite if you dare to share
else
Divide if you can't be fair
The trophies just shine for a while
Later, they gather dust in the exile
Believe if it invades your sleep
else
Relieve if it's beyond your keep
Don't make promises, you cannot tend
Don't demean the hopes, you cannot transcend
Walk the road for the sake of the journey
And
Talk if your words quench their yearnings
There is no pride in yelling the sermons to the mass
the words will finally bounce back and hit you at last....
Apr 12, 2018
Apr 12, 2018 at 12:28 PM UTC
* *A tear is shed
For those who are blind to the beauty of this world
Who can only feast on sarcasm, writhing in irony
* *It soon evaporates.
Pictures of a future dressed in ribbons and lace, cast off and burned
Pictures of the future carrying disdainful dystopia, infamous for invalids
Hung to admire in sublime distaste by those that seek knowledge
And see the repetitious antiquities of time that come to pass
But others care not for plans and the imminent
Those that keep to the light of the gas
And carry the past to the present
Hoping for trends to try again, reliving what they had never lived
Laconic and loquacious in emotions and words
Against the gossip, but paradoxically
Pushing for the creation of their “ritualistic social Golgotha”.
Those who abuse the glory of their munificent, malicious mentality
Pathetically unable to procure authentic happiness
A tear is shed.
Inside the recesses of the soul where emotions dare not dwell.
It too evaporates.
Trapped in fear and the “cliched harlequin speech of suicide”
Begging for the masses to cast them out and find each other
A tear is shed.
Never seen but felt as it evaporates.
Felt by those who envelop themselves inside themselves
Those who plagiarize their sick self-conscious souls
Those who bring about the very misfortune they strive to devour
Those who are effortlessly envied as they exploit their habitual recreations
By those who wouldn’t dream of falsified euphoria
Those who bastardise and deface the name of creative individualism
As waters of the soul are purged and discarded
They are felt by those
And are quickly washed away in doubt and regret
Keeping to the light of the gas, dangerous and warm
Feb 25, 2013
Feb 25, 2013 at 10:48 PM UTC
There is a line
between
pain and
pleasure.
But when that line blurs-
When the pleasure overthrows
your inhibitions
and the pain numbs your body,
When pain becomes pleasure
and pleasure becomes pain,
how do you know when to stop.
I glorify it.
I crave the taste
of the sickness.
of the disease rippling across my skin,
boiling in my veins
and flowing through my blood.
Is it Healthy?
I love you,
I love it,
but is it healthy
To walk the streets at night
in constant fear
not only of what lurks in the shadows
but of you too.
Anorexic bodies
falling all around us.
Mine included.
Skinnier by the day,
yellow nails chipping and peeling,
grinding of the teeth
to procure a never ending headache.
Pale skin;
cold to the touch
from lack of circulation.
Weak in your arms
an intoxicated mind
and a heart struck through with daggers.
Blasting screams
and beats
to block out the world
and create a throbbing in our heads.
Your freak show;
My guilty little pleasure.
So sick
So satanic
So tenebrific
So twisted
so disturbed
so disgusting
so beautiful
so broken.
cradled by poison,
hold me in your arms,
a monster in the shadows
with thanatognomonic eyes.
With my thanatophobia
You manage to keep me alive.
You do it to feel the pain,
as a confirmation that you're still alive,
But I do it to feel nothing,
to feel all this pain
all these repressed emotions
disappear.
Overall we do it to stay alive,
and shred away
our pitiful sorrows
one by one,
piece by piece.
For inch by inch
we come closer
to meeting the same
fate
of our cold,
useless,
easily forgotten bodies
lying on a metal slab.
Soon to be greeted
by the maltreated Earth.
Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 2:32 AM UTC
Lord, who hast suffer'd all for me,
My peace and pardon to procure,
The lighter cross I bear for Thee,
Help me with patience to endure.
The storm of loud repining hush;
I would in humble silence mourn;
Why should the unburnt, though burning bush,
Be angry as the crackling thorn?
Man should not faint at Thy rebuke,
Like Joshua falling on his face,
When the cursed thing that Achan took
Brought Israel into just disgrace.
Perhaps some golden wedge suppress'd,
Some secret sin offends my God;
Perhaps that Babylonish vest,
Self-righteousness, provokes the rod.
Ah! were I buffeted all day,
Mock'd, crown'd with thorns and spit upon,
I yet should have no right to say,
My great distress is mine alone.
Let me not angrily declare
No pain was ever sharp like mine,
Nor murmur at the cross I bear,
But rather weep, remembering Thine.
2.3k
Insouciance first fall
we took the night half-illuminated
dreamy stereo sketchy static
through ear’s round bell
smile we owe it
slanted, bendable light moon
becomes another genre
to listen lilt
even before methods of lip
procure shaded meaning cohered
on a closed door – opened
finding a semblance of Sun
there, veiling
a traffic of cirrus
in the elongated road
of blue skies
it was time
to point-source a home
taller than grass in Summer
pinpointing scenes to exact
a long divide and make it
by punishing it post-peak,
let it drift with unrelenting
quickness
past mouthed rivers and from
the lessening fog
of the same morning
i
will puncture
it true, eyes set forth
into your absence
*you’ll
bloom
you’ll
bloom.*
Mar 25, 2016
Mar 25, 2016 at 8:31 AM UTC
It was the early days of the organic food craze
and my wife, ever a slave to the latest fads
(which disposition sometimes benefitted me pleasurably
but mostly cost me dearly)
made me run on an errand
(like: “Fido – go, fetch!”)
to get some organic vegetables
and arriving, I blurted out to the produce guy, stumbling:
*“Some ****** for my wife”* –
and that wise guy, Oxford-educated as he was
(though a failed Professor, so ended up at the greengrocer’s)
he said: *“That you must induce or encourage in your wife, Sir;
I cannot and will not be of service in that connection.”*
And I slowed down and I said:
“Well, dear fellow – for my wife, have you any organic vegetables?”
And Oxford-educated as he was, he did not understand such fads
having mostly a sedate and Classical demeanour
and he pointed his most English nose to the air;
and so I attempted again to sensible-phrase my inquiry:
*“Are your vegetables -
and this I ask on account of my esteemed wife -
sprayed with poisonous chemicals?”*
And the Oxford guy apprehended now, and he pronounced:
*“Poisonous chemicals for your spouse
you must procure yourself, Sir”*
Now, that was an idea. I knew Oxford-educated guys
were smart in some way or other.
And since then I have been free of my wife.
I have no need to run on errands for no baby, no more;
though I do have to count bars,
limited as my numerical skills are,
as is my verbal proficiency.
And the Oxford guy, meanwhile, I have it from the grapevine,
has set up an ******** Food Chain Store*, worldwide;
I knew he’d go places, sooner or later, far and global
Jul 9, 2013
Jul 9, 2013 at 8:06 AM UTC
I pinch my brow, and rub my eyes.
I procure a heavy sigh.
I feel regret, a dear old friend,
As I look up at the sky.
I retreat to my mind, I shut my eyes.
I think of what to say.
Hate comes along, whistling his song,
"How would you rather feel today?"
I searched for love, I found someone.
I thought she was a dream.
Instead I found myself in hell.
People aren't always what they seem.
I was blinded by "love", I am in love.
I love her and she loves me.
But so many questions come to my mind.
"Are we truly meant to be?"
I don't know, I don't know, I really don't know...
There's so much pain in my heart.
The things that we do and the things that we say,
Are tearing us apart.
I unclench my fists, I open my eyes.
I let out a heavier sigh.
Rubbing my eyes, I wipe these tears
As I look up at the sky.
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 4:34 AM UTC
How many massacres must we endure?
How does killing others, changes procure?
How many suicide bombers are being born?
Do their consciences ever leave them torn?
How many terrorist sympathizers we call friend?
Hardliners preaching terror is the new trend?
When next must innocent blood be spilled?
Inhumanity to man by man whose heart is hate filled?
When does the nightmares finally end?
Is peace and harmony around the next bend?
© Perveiz Ali
Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 6:21 AM UTC
Today while coming back from work
Make a visit to market of humanity
I saw, our respected friend scruples sales...
...... Maturity... with happiness
I stepped-forward to him...... and asked.....
‘You are here?’
He said, “What I can do! For everything you have to do marketing!”
I asked “how do you sale maturity?”
He replies “it is a matter of investment!
Now definition and priority changes.....
Maturity..... means.... maturity of policy, bond, fixed deposit....
Then only you can purchase happiness in this market.......”
I again inquired,
“What is ‘its cost’.......?”
He replied,
“Your investment is depending on how much happiness you want to procure!
Some time it is free, if you will exchange your getting on happiness with new! “
I left the market, with a plan to make a search
about our getting on happiness to get a new !
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 3:30 PM UTC
Never settle for the "intellectually inferior" term, you're better than that.
Never fall victim to the excuse of, "because you're black"
Who's to say that your sophisticated & perspicacious approach to life should be ignored because of the color of your skin?
It's the small minded stereotypes of society that should motivate you to procure the win.
I only wish that when it came to this situation, some were as stubborn & reluctant as me. But history has chained their way of thinking & stung them with society's mockery.
Never settle for social inequality or the disparaging jabs because of your nationality or the color of your skin.
Be a proud, successful, sagacious, astute, intellectually advanced being overdosed with melanin.
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 1:34 AM UTC
I want to have
lunch
of all meats and veggies –
can someone cook
and put them all
on the table for me?
I want to eat fine
at a table of ebony
with silverware
in King Louis XIV style –
can somebody procure them for me?
I want to dine
in a Hall of Fame
Queen Cleo style
with singers and slaves
and manacled leopards
at my feet –
Hey, who’s there!
get them all ready for me
I want them all in a
Grand Palace like Versailles
not in some petty lowbrow
Château de Malmaison -
so can someone get it ready
by today eve, precisely 5?
I want to eat in peace
with no noise
and braying donkeys
so - Hey! can someone
shoot that rabble outside
unkempt, untidy
and always wanting free meals off me!
Aug 26, 2011
Aug 26, 2011 at 3:07 AM UTC
Its something about that
crack
of the morning
solitude
Becoming one alongside the
energy
conveyed upon every full, comforting gust of
wind
with every frigid grain of sand
collected
in the burrows between your
toes
How the proverbial crash and sizzle out of an alkaline
wave
can intimately caress ones depth of
recollection
so swift and flirtatious,
passionate.
Reflecting the honest
actuality
Honorable substandard grotesque
indifferent
Reminding us that we can
procure
tranquility within
pandemonium
perfection in chaos and
inadequacy
an erie absence of inorganic
resonance
in an alone, but not lonely repose,
comfort
pending that
crack
of the morning
solitude.
Feb 13, 2013
Feb 13, 2013 at 12:46 PM UTC
**** Decency! I want to live as an animal, marauding the savanna.
To shade beneath the acacia and find excited peace only when and where the shadows hide.
To feed from the tawny grasslands and rest in the hollows of concentric sienna and obsidian.
To procure the lay of the land through deliberate exploration.
To find solace in the peach hillsides that languidly lean into vermillion valleys.
To discover that there is no edge of the world, only beautiful quirks and catenaries where the beginning is the end.
To drink from time, the cool blue stream it is, and truly taste the flux of kinetic molecules.
To prey on moments and capture them with a swift strike of the paw of perception.
To roam.
To be.
Jul 23, 2012
Jul 23, 2012 at 3:48 PM UTC
I am pleased, might finally speak about my witch friend
share with you some of her wits and trends
Masters today desecrate the truth,
meditation and visualization are nothing but outdated tools
Culturally, relatively free i write fearless,
Contemplation overcomes meditation,
Spirituality conqueres religion ,
I formless, will not abide to your anticipations
I renounce my knowledge and education
Transparency , revolution,
Love works,
It has been scientifically proven
We are what we think
Thoughts procure reality
it has been confirmed quantum physically
So what's your excuse?
take control and imagine the best version of YOU
Imagination is the key to reaching everything and beyond
Words Of Harfouchism
Jan 26, 2021
Jan 26, 2021 at 7:27 AM UTC
Leave the inner world
for the world outside the walls,
procure supplies,
then, return again.
That's the plan, Stan.
Feet meet cement block.
You remember the last time
we took this walk?
As well as I do.
Insert a line I've used before,
commenting on the violet hues
of parting suns, painting the
skies above us as we go for bread.
Instead of hidden knives,
I pull a hand and offer it
as we cross the overpass.
If you're scared in day,
you're terrified at night.
Without a pause, you're reaching out,
grasping for a comfort, now.
Easy, is it? I'll bet it is.
If life has taught me anything,
the most important change
is that I learn to zip my mouth.
Joy equates to nothing more
than what others see in store,
and go on to demand of me.
Lamb's Bread from The CDC
replaces intensity
I've lost to love, with smoke.
Light it up, and let it go.
Mar 15, 2019
Mar 15, 2019 at 10:58 AM UTC
Cursor. Stare vacantly back at me. A pair of rough hands scrape against cheeks. My own.
A faint yet familiar soreness in the back of the throat.
Christmas lights procure rings of color on the walls and make still for an instant
mounting apprehension.
Count the days.
Recount.
Plan each day, hour by hour. Compelled to use them to their fullest potential.
Productivity.
Type without fear. Without concern for that looming pair of eyes to examine this.
A verbalization of [my own dark thoughts] “It’s not good enough.” “ It’s garbage."
Jagged hands. Jagged hands to delicate hairs on the back of the neck. Above ear and pushed from forehead. Soreness in throat keeps me [grounded].
Soreness in heart sends me to dream.
Soft groan escapes a pair of lips as a pair of eyes find a likeness captured in pixels.
Close it shut put it down look away deep breath in.
Distract.
Distract with learning.
The inextinguishable desire to know, to see, to understand [this]
existence.
Will one day I allow for eyes not my own to bear witness to this love poem?
This love poem to life, both in a particular and universal sense.
With timid hands and trembling insides I surrender
my words.
Feb 1, 2014
Feb 1, 2014 at 11:20 PM UTC