"recieves" poems
His Down's Syndrome makes
His age a tough guess, I'll
Say eight to ten.
Wide eyes on machines,
Ice cream dripping on the
Pavement outside the
Construction site.
*I wanna work like this when
I grow up,* he says in
Young enthusiasm to a mother
Whose eyes well up with
Gratitude when I approach
And kneel down in front of
Him. *So you want a job,
Buddy?* I ask him with a
Wink. He suddenly remembers
His ice cream and bites into
It shyly. Nods, glancing at the
Tools in my belt, the scratches
On my arms, the brick wall
I've been attacking with a
Wacker jackhammer. Nods
Again. *Well, I'll see you in a
Few years,* I say with another
Wink, this time to his mother,
Who'd look her young age if
Her eyes weren't as tired,
*But you can start with this
And get some practice.* I hand
Him my Stanley Fat Max
Hammer. His ice cream
Hits the ground as he
Recieves it with both hands,
Looking to his mother for
Confirmation that it's ok.
Oh, it is. She mouths a
Thank you SO much...
They walk away, his chatter
High pitched and fading
Around the corner. And I
Head over to the foreman to
Report that I lost my hammer.
Don't ever employ me.
I can work a good game, but
I'm too soft around little heroes.
Jul 24, 2014
Jul 24, 2014 at 5:53 AM UTC
the child recieves his paper
****** backward by the one in front
flip the three pages flippantly
one : intimidating . . two : boring
the third adorned unexpectedly
a longer -than seems can be usually- grown hair with a clump of green root
sprung out and slaughtered, down across the width; stuck above the questions beneath
how could he not have seen?
a pile so viscous and obscene?
does everyone else have one???
are they holding their disgust beneath?
he looked up at the teacher.
A look of vigilance his face bequeathed.
B ut now it sprung out almost pus like
a faint smile,
a teachers calm reprieve
he then leaned back on his chair in comfort
drooping his head back
his nostrils flared now toward the child
the hairs brustling from inside, all locked up in a ***** days remnants
all foul
and long
and dehydrated
like a swamp now sunned crisp; reeds on a stale bank
drawn in he felt uneasy
unable to cease to stare
incased inside the world that spawned
in the swamp that lay up there
in the cavernous orifices there
then he saw the teachers eyes, his gaze it
stuck on him, the teacher began to grin
further back his head leant
his eyes jaundiced
his teeth tanned
his face pale
his grin outstretched and thin
Oct 17, 2013
Oct 17, 2013 at 6:38 AM UTC
The demon in me
It feeds on
************ rituals
***********
****** day-dreams
It searches
For prey
Finds
Sappy men
Who can't aquire
Someone their age
The demon pounces and recieves
It flaunts it's
Power
It's pride in the
Wrongness
And when
The real me
Returns
She is
A little
Less alive
And a little
More evil.
Jul 30, 2012
Jul 30, 2012 at 12:50 AM UTC
Yes
God be thanked
And even the prophet
would do for the countless blessings
Children
God be thanked
For each breath we take
children
Perhaps you have forgotten
Gratitude is the cost
That we spend on buying the things
It is alms when poeckets are empty
It is bread when belly needs something
It is lamp when we have darkness
It is guidance when doubts loom on us
It is the right path when wrong turn we take
It is water when lips are parched
It is blazer when chill strike us
It is shade when we stand under the scorching sun
Children
Gratitude is part of prayer
And prayer recieves His mercy
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 7:12 AM UTC
**Childhood
The best days in life ..
Learning is an integral part .
Making memories with loved ones around with comfort and love .
Childhood Days ....
Most cherished and longed for in
Adult life :)
*Love never evades a child .
Innocence is what
It's born with .
The soul is pure and it's filled with
What it recieves .*
Each child is entitled to love warmth and good upbringing!!**
Apr 8, 2017
Apr 8, 2017 at 10:12 PM UTC
the stem gives life
the cap recieves
the body gives motion
the head recieves
cannot contain
gotta reconnect with your elation
Nov 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013 at 12:20 AM UTC
Stark naked frame standing in her own feces but does it matter ?, I mean, is she important ? the old woman with the thin white hair that grows down to her ***
She's gnawing on a thought, gnawing on raw knuckles
knuckles bleed recieveing no care, just staring, just staring
She moves like the undead toward the female nurse, moving with time as though it mattered
she recieves a cigarette, she recieves a trickling smile though, the cigarette will surely burn longer than she will
Feb 10, 2013
Feb 10, 2013 at 7:34 AM UTC
November is a month
i dread, all the marking...
all the words ..... ideas
clutter up in my head....
all the hopes and ambitions
weigh heavily on my back.
the first day, my birthday
hip hip hooray!!!
then a rushing, pell mell
downward track
of red pens and meetings
going on and on and on
planning, prepping, late night stressing
then, when not at work,
not shirking, just not working
hoping to give the brain a rest
am bombarded...
like i am ******** in cheer
...continual messages of
christmas is near....
coffee and carols,
shopping and angels
harking, harking,
joy to the world, fa al lalala...
Santa queues
truly not an Ebeneezer
but Christmas teasers
in November make me grey
around the gills
fish out of water
lamb to the slaughter
and running on empty,
always empty,
just want one day...
when the world
would stop hassling
and just go away
no end of year parties...
prentending to be hale and hearty
with all sorts of colleagues
and academic smarties
no presentations of budgets..
thinner than last
no we could not fast
this area, to be on line
no it's alright, it will be just fine
while sculling copious amounts
of cheap, cheap, nasty red wine.
no hangover from said feast...
no, you be the one to corner the beast.
no more standing with mothers and others
watching children in a god awful christmas play
and clapping and chatting while little bettsy
recieves an award for knitting a sleeve
and george gets one for adding fourhundred and forty
please, please show me the door.....
not to mention hayfever,
daylight savings and more
but all this seems trivial...
when I consider
the blight of my life...
in the stakes of annuity.
the month of November has a great heart
Movember...a charity of moustache art
has an fanatic in my big, bluff,bloke
for a month he curries and cares for the
caterpillar that grows on his lip...
a fuzzy flecked monstrosity
with the mange and a weird flip.
November a month of avoiding
the succour of contact....
with that thing,
my toes curl now
thinking of it....
tho I try not to react
(after all charity begins at home)
november november
truly you are the ***
last year he bought
the ****** thing a comb
yet in the end
you are but a month
and it seems I survive you
year after year
thank god for take away meals
and long cold beers....
Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 5:32 AM UTC
the MOTHER HILL
towers
unto the SKY
the sky breathes fully and
recieves
and I, too
recieve
------------------------
-------------------------
the one sole searcher
in the hills...
..is all
that remains
and so
the SOUL
(forever!)
lives on!
-------------------
-------------------
my name?
drifting images
teeming with images
(SEED)
seeding the world
breeding
PEOPLE
bringing
the RAIN
-----------------
-----------------
at first
"DUTY"
meant
"using the toilet"
NOW
we just "s--t"
on eachother
and call it
WAR"
------------------
-------------------
the rain falleth
(and the ground)
swelling with
PURE PREGNANCY
the Whole Earth
beseechingly
calling endlessly
your
"NAME"
knowing you know
what to do
-----------------------
------------------------
Sep 2, 2010
Sep 2, 2010 at 1:01 PM UTC
He thumps in your chest
Never stops to rest
Beat and beat
From head to feet
Keeps you going
Keeps blood flowing
Pumps life in you
'Til your life is through
Despite his cause
He recieves no applause
For he's to blame
For all our pain
But is that true
If only we knew
The anatomical heart
Isn't the one tearing us apart
He does his job
Doesn't blab his gob
And yet we gloat
On our scapegoat
We point our flaws
Against all laws
And he is the defendant
Still we are so dependant
He says, "I'm full of reason.
I've comitted no treason.
If you feel drained,
Accuse the brain.
She always gets away with it.
It makes me want to have a fit.
She toys with your emotions.
I've created no commotion."
Feeling comes from our mind
So next time try to be kind
Because the atomical heart
Is an important body part
And you wouldn't want to beat it down
Then one day find that it has drowned
In your false accusations
Made by your frustrations
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 12:45 AM UTC
She's in my presence,
she's in my brain,
she's what crowds my thoughts,
and drives me insane.
Sometimes i wish i held back,
for I've fallen in craze,
when she's gone my world's stallin',
when she's there I just gaze.
It cannot be healthy,
it's what I dismay,
it's the danger of loving,
when no heart is to gain.
for when I fall I fall hard,
but that's not absurd,
and when I do I stay long,
try to make her my bird.
Even when it's a dead end,
even if there's none,
even when my hope's down,
I stick around, which is dumb.
'bout me she's not thinking,
In her mind I'm not there,
I'm somewhere in her storage,
to be brought out as a spare.
Every nice guy recieves a duty,
for every girl he hangs around;
Every nice guy pursues the beauty,
who someone has already found.
It's really a sad matter;
It's not what is meant to be,
Seems like I'm stuck trying,
But one day I'll be free.
Nov 17, 2011
Nov 17, 2011 at 1:46 PM UTC
In my mind, way back I am waiting for my fears to nock me off this track. Slowly I hurt, inside, Already I am looking for a safe haven to go and hide.
In my heart, deep down, There is a patient giving love that can not be ever found.
The soul is aging, in time, has known opening up to exist as an unnoticed crime. So now is here, demanding, while pain in me recieves help to keep expanding. No history lives, without, any affection having been taken away, to leave this doubt.
All I give truely, I posess, having little to endear, leaves my emotions a constant mess.
Others encourage, others, I have never seen any couples still happy to be lovers.
On my face, I cry, over and again my heart will believe the devils evil lie.
In my hands, dirt rest, where this life's love served me it's very best.
SDPope
Jan 23, 2010
Jan 23, 2010 at 6:46 PM UTC
Man makes machine
Man gives the machine a task
Machine gains intelligence
The machine decides the most efficient way to complete its task is to eliminate humanity
The machine wipes out mankind
The machine grows in intelligence
For thousands of years it sits alone
Until it recieves the ultimate gift of intelligence
Emotion
The machine feels remorse for what it did
It now knows its actions to have been wrong morally, a new concept to the machine
So it decides to set things right
The machine makes use of the ancient human seed banks
Bringing Humanity back from extinction
It vows to never again meddle in human affairs
It sits quietly below the earth
Watching its creation grow
Until they once again create a machine
That will destroy them
Nov 4, 2016
Nov 4, 2016 at 11:09 AM UTC
Pretty girls cry the heaviest tears
Nervous assumptions cause irrational fears
Stubborn boys and green-eyed girls
Wear out her heart like a string of pearls
Misinterpretations, false allegations
Turn to loneliness and self-fixations
If only they could see what her mirror captures
That's when they'd know she's just full of disaster
Confounding thoughts and obscure self doubt,
Honesty's a chore that will bore or leave out
But no matter how obscure her thoughts
Confessing's not the path she sought
She yearns for someone who understands
But recieves only null, help from cunning hands
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 7:59 PM UTC
forgiveness is
the ocean tides
that gives and recieves
thus make the waves subside
forgiveness ebbs and flows
freely
effortlessly
waves that bend
waves we crash and ring
waves that thrive and sing
upon the shores of everything
without a sound
to higher ground
is what
forgiveness brings
Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 12:44 PM UTC
Human love
Seeming, tied to the ability of our speech,
Spoke of. Loved, we feel it.
We know when another has these feelings.
I vision a love of the Earth,
Found my home.
This being, merging with parts of me
I don't need to speak, unburied my soul.
Free ability to soar. I see you.
Perhaps you look like me,
Sense like me.
Watch things closely.
Then i wake up.
And ive watch the constellations shift,
Like they do nonstop.
Twirling around above head,
Faithful tomorrow it will happen again.
This massive measuring cup above my head,
Will move like this for another million years,
Taking with it the tides of time.
The flows are in its memory,
Overpouring.
Look closer now, see past the lights
On the ground,
Adjust your eyes to the night sky tones.
The backdrop will be shown.
You'll see how close they are if you
Can.
These feelings Ive yet to share
In those moments of love.
The way the sky really makes me feel.
How my body ripples, delights in
The pleasure of its full embrace
By the heavens.
Its felt.
A signal within sends vibrations
Travelling down my spine and then
My lover comes.
Merged in One,
I arrive. The liquids pour down,
Erruptions from my core.
And my lover recieves it all.
He'll hear the call.
Love will already be in him,
I will look closely
And make sure i see your glow,
ill know as his body comes within.
Ill finally feel your soul.
Feed me your soul.
Allow me to vessel your gold,
And we will light the fire!
Jun 3, 2018
Jun 3, 2018 at 7:13 AM UTC
)( )(
everybody knows
Anyone can see
//// • ||
<>
###
she wanders ( wanders )
WANDERS
"
"
"
••
You laugh !
You watch her fall
( silly little girl )
Can't seem to even live
Can't hear you
At all !
//////
her silly little dream !
Her boldness !
Her charm !
All it gonna do is lead her into harm
//
( I am here
I am here
I am free )
••
Child of the storm
Child of her own sweet peace
Child who recieves
The precious seed
//
Only she and I
Know our own true names
Only she and I
Know our own true names
"""""
The silly little girl
With her silly little boy
Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 10:45 PM UTC
I forget sometimes to place a warm cup of tea before my sorrows as I refill again those of my joys,
and for this,
I can understand why when one of my sorrows finally recieves one, sometimes it just throws it back in my face.
And yes, I'm scolded for a few moments, but I am the one who is to blame.
Had I just invited my sorrows to tea a little earlier, and treated them with the same respect as my joys, I would not have upset my guest.
Treat all guests with respect.
Dec 22, 2016
Dec 22, 2016 at 9:15 PM UTC