"relocated" poems
An ode to fast food,
Oh how I loathe you,
Your hot french fries,
And complaining customers,
That I wish to smack,
Their oh so very fat ***
The managers are ******
They need to be relocated to a mental hospital.
One is a furious druggie, with hair that is not so pretty,
And the other is a fat cat, who pretends to be a girl, when he clearly is not at all that,
Oh food that is fast, how thou will not last anymore in my life,
I bid adieu to you, and the burgers,
How'll not miss the times I've cried from working with some miserable *******
Goodbye for now,
The times were not fun,
How I'll never miss running off to work,
Because I have always hated you.
Mar 1, 2013
Mar 1, 2013 at 2:29 PM UTC
A Catastrophic explosion in a constellation ..........
Following the super nova , expansion of the universe....
A supersonic flight on suborbital spacecraft ........
Accessing meteor , an unknown lonely atmosphere ....
Away from thousand light years.........
Taxonomy a new solar system with red planets........
Peeping from the glass cockpit , all planets appearing blue.......
No moon in their orbit , no networks with DSL(Direct Satellite Link)......
No human , no existence of love...........
All nonfunctioning satellite moving bizarre ..........
Whole system collapsed in that collide ........
Explosion relocated moon with planet earth .......
A symbol of Cosmic Love , shining through human hearts ........
Discovering love bond in the solar systems...
an unique lodge.............
Migration of youth Love .....an effort to save those lonely planets......
by
MAHI -GALAXY ...........
Oct 4, 2013
Oct 4, 2013 at 4:50 PM UTC
The Frog and The Bee and the Mouse with the House lived together in peace and harmony on the River Louse.
One day the Mouse with the house did declare it was time that he moved out of there.
The Frog and The Bee did not agree and set about convincing the Mouse with the House that he needed to stay on the River Louse.
They sent out invitations to all around to attend tea at half past three.
The tea party was in honour of the Mouse with the house to be held on the banks of the River Louse and hosted by his dear friends The Frog and The Bee.
One by one each creature replied and the guest list rose quickly to Twenty Five.
The Frog and The Bee decided the tea would be civil indeed and The Frog made some scones and The Bee made some honey.
At half past one The Frog and The Bee set up some tables to lay out the tea.
At half past two the tables were laid with the scones from The Frog and The honey The Bee had made.
The scene did look grand, pots of tea and saucers of milk all laid on a tablecloth made of silk.
At half past three the guests started to arrive.
The first of the guests to arrive were The Elf with one ear and The Fly with one eye. The Mouse was delighted to see his friends, the ones who helped get Horse around the river bend.
Next came the Horse and his Master of course to thank the Mouse with the House on the River Louse for his friendship and help on the day that the Horse could not get around the river bend and the Mouse with the House, The Elf with one ear, The Fly with one eye, The Frog and The Bee all pulled together and worked merrily to assist the Horse round the river course.
One by one others did attend, there was a duck who lost his cluck but the Mouse with the House helped him every day until he could at last say "cluck cluck"
Next came a ****** who had forgotten how to weave but the Mouse with the House lay out the sticks until the Beavers memory began to tick and the ****** remembered how to weave.
Then came a beautiful Butterfly with bright red wings. She told the Frog and The Bee that one day the Mouse had found her crying and sighing her wings had faded and she did not look grand a thing of beauty. The Mouse ran back to his House and in his shed found a can that had Paint in Red on the side. He took a brush and painted her wings and now the Butterfly all shiny and bright flapped her wings with all her might.
Last but not least the Mayor arrived with his glorious wife by his side.
Mayor and Mayoress Swan did agree that the Mouse with the House should not leave his friends of The River Louse and they would indeed miss him dearly if he relocated his house.
The Mouse smiled embarrassingly and said "I am sorry he did declare, there's been a mix up, when I said" I must get out of there" it was only to the shops I intended to go but The Frog and The Bee moved too fast or I moved to slow"
The Frog and The Bee and all the guests were all delighted with the news and brought in some music supplied by "Five in a Pen" which of course were all mother Hens and they danced all night until the Moon went in and the Sun came out.
Then the Frog and The Bee said to their friend the Mouse "let's do this again next year, and Mouse can bake cake for the tea, our friends can attend and we'll dance all night to Five in a Pen and we'll eat scones and honey and cake too and we'll do this in honour of all our friends and those who live and work on the River bend"
THE END
Jan 15, 2018
Jan 15, 2018 at 5:08 AM UTC
Deconstruct that which may not serve many,
and reassemble it so that it may serve more,
and you have creative destruction.
Deconstruct that which may serve many,
and reassemble it do that it may serve only a few,
and you have destructive creation.
Either way, there are resources relocated
to create or destroy something.
To deconstruct something
would be to separate it
into that which can be used to construct it...
Yet,
to construct something
is to reconstruct what which has already existed...
So is there only the illusion of creation and destruction?
Whether something is or is not,
from how we perceive it,
seems to rely on how and whether or not it is organized.
Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 9:03 PM UTC
Such a snake you are,
poisonous words dripping like venom from fangs under bitten lips,
striking at the ever-so slightest nudge of your tail,
retreating and hissing for help from those you belittle;
Do I really seem like such a foolish little mouse,
slave and prey to your every whim, every change of mind?
I'd like to think not;
For your cussing and fussing, screaming and shouting,
while throwing a little hissy fit, is not proper etiquette,
even for a reptile such as yourself.
Such a tiny wriggling thing must be put in its natural place,
relocated to where it cannot bite the children
to where it can go find others like itself,
away from the big scary predators that might hurt it;
Humans, cars, bikes, cats, dogs, oh the possibilities are endless,
but you wound up in my path, unlucky you,
a demonic and unforgiving rage personified;
If you are a snake, I am a dragon,
if you are a fish, I'm a bloodthirsty shark,
darling don't you see how this works?
I've dealt with you long enough, you pest, you ungrateful little thing,
my mercy is off, our truce is through, now God only knows what'll happen to you,
did you think me to be a kind human being?
Well, I guess you're mistaken, so take a number, sweetie,
I'll call for you when I'm done sending others to the graveyard,
for if you think I'd even hold you at the top of my list,
you're sadly mistaken, yet again;
You should probably stop trying to predict me,
stop blaming me for each little thing,
for a predator can't be blamed for taking out pests,
nor animal control for relocating vicious creatures;
You silly little snake, do you think yourself to be a viper,
when really you're just a common garter?
Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 3:03 PM UTC
Colombian drug lords, so
fearing the dog's superlative
abilities, put a hit out on the
medal-winning K9 agent
Colombian drug cartel has put out
a $70,000 hit on a drug-sniffing
German shepherd after she helped
authorities discover nearly 10 tons
of the group’s *******
Sombra “Shadow” in English,
has since been relocated by authorities
after the Urabeños, considered
Colombia’s most powerful criminal
organization, put the price on her head,
reported the BBC on Thursday;
the 6-year-old canine having an
incredibly successful career as a
drug sniffer thus far; having
uncovered a record amount of narcotics
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 3:53 PM UTC
Two clay vases sit by my fireplace
recently discovered in their post move-in places
and relocated there.
One is small,
easily fitting into the palm,
and is covered with smokey brown lines
left by hair, lost during chemo,
placed on the vase while still hot from the kiln.
The other, large
filled with artificial roses
where once real ones burst from it's rim
and watched as people sat in wooden rows
remembering.
Both remind me of a lost one
someone who is no longer around
and yet, through fired pottery
is.
Jul 19, 2013
Jul 19, 2013 at 8:20 PM UTC
looking into his eyes liberated me from my worries, making me feel so light
lying in his arms liberated me from my fears, making me feel so safe
i thought of him before i slept, when i first woke up and, well only throughout my entire day
i lost myself in him
my world revolved around him
at one point, i thought, wow he is my universe, he’s the sun, the moons, all the planets and stars
but then when he left i realized
he was nothing but i made him all that
so i relocated all the time and energy spent on him onto myself
and thats when i reached the happiest point of my life
Jan 13, 2019
Jan 13, 2019 at 8:12 PM UTC
He fell down a rabbit hole,
chasing after a crazy dream
He met a rabbit with a waistcoat.
He braved the Red Queen.
He had tea with a caterpillar.
He spoke with talking flowers.
He faced his worst nightmares,
and he lived to tell the tale.
And eventually he crawled back out,
ready to face the world.
But no one believed him.
The more he told,
the more he was scorned.
And he drew farther and farther into himself,
comforting himself with stories and talking flowers,
and a rabbit in a waistcoat.
Soon that was all he had left,
stories and fantasies.
Until one day he plunged back through the rabbit hole,
grasping for a crazy dream.
There he learned the trade of making hats,
but he soon surpassed his masters and peers.
Once again he was scorned,
and he relocated to an old house with two other outcasts,
making hats and drinking tea to fill his time.
He retreated into himself once again,
this time literally becoming as mad as a hatter,
and this became his title.
And soon no one remembered his true name,
knowing only that was mad,
until his title became his name: the Mad Hatter.
Only one ever tried to know why he was mad,
and her name was Alice.
And in her presence,
he found himself, though still quite mad, less mad.
He even found that he liked it,
though he never let his other mad companions know that.
But she, too, fell back through the rabbit hole,
and he was alone,
with only fantasies and madmen to keep him company.
Until one day many years later he found a woman, wandering,
mumbling about talking flowers and rabbits with waistcoats,
almost as mad as himself.
And her name, he found, was Alice,
and in each other’s presence they found, though they were still quite mad,
they were decidedly less so.
And they found they liked it.
Mar 5, 2010
Mar 5, 2010 at 1:19 PM UTC
A Catastrophic explosion in a constellation ..........
Following the super nova , expansion of the universe....
A supersonic flight on suborbital spacecraft ........
Accessing meteor , an unknown lonely atmosphere ....
Away from thousand light years.........
Taxonomy a new solar system with red planets........
Peeping from the glass cockpit , all planets appearing blue.......
No moon in their orbit , no networks with DSL(Direct Satellite Link)......
No human , no existence of love...........
All nonfunctioning satellite moving , bizarre ..........
Whole system collapsed in that collide ........
Explosion relocated moon with planet earth .......
A symbol of Cosmic Love , shining through human hearts ........
Discovering love bond in the solar systems...
an unique lodge.............
Migration of youth Love .....an effort to save those lonely planets......
by
MAHI -GALAXY ...........
Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 7:27 PM UTC
I used to think I kept you like a secret.
Is it a secret if no one knows it’s being kept?
Maybe I’ll never know, but
if I did have the chops to say it out loud,
I’d tell them that
I have dreams about that plane ride.
I’d take the 6AM flight just so
the colors of the sunrise would
chase me for a thousand miles.
I’d sip my hot coffee
with too much cream at
my window seat and
make small talk with
the older woman seated beside me.
She has a kind face and
takes this flight often to visit her
son and his family.
(He relocated for work,
but couldn’t pass up the salary.)
She’d ask if I’m coming or going.
“I’m not sure yet,” I’d reply, and
offer to buy her a drink,
as I revel in and relive
every crumb of our story with her.
It’s a good one, I think.
(And she thinks so too.)
She places her hand on mine, and,
with the sincerest of smiles,
wishes me well on my adventure.
She’s always there, and I like her.
I dream that baggage claim is
a ghost town, but I
recognize your eyes beyond the carousel
before I recognize my own blue suitcase.
Sometimes you have flowers in your hand,
but you always have a hug.
There’s excitement and understanding in it—
a relief that teeters on tears
and lips that waited for so long
to whisper, “Finally.”
And I feel so safe and found.
I’m at home
in a place I’ve never been before—
in arms that have never held me.
My blue suitcase— still circling.
I laugh, and I can’t wait to tell you
that I dream of you in color.
I quickly give you instructions
on how to find me again
in case we get lost.
I tell you dream flights are cheaper
if you’re in bed before 9PM.
I don’t know if you hear me,
but before I can ask,
I’m awake.
I’m alone.
You’re my secret again.
The secret I’ve never told.
BWI direct to XNA.
Aug 28, 2025
Aug 28, 2025 at 10:15 PM UTC
I haven't done this in a while -
Last minute parties relocated to Spain,
The Mediterranean, with white canines
And jagged front teeth
I'd almost forgotten what it felt like -
It was a paradise, even
We made fire and burned our pride
Used the herbs in the garden to get high
Slept on the roof top, mixing the stars
This is nice -
I don't know why I'd been clean
Perhaps I felt that one of us had to
But mostly
Mostly.
I slept for the first time in years.
Jul 9, 2013
Jul 9, 2013 at 9:25 PM UTC
Trees tower high above hesitant heads,
In the time before it housed only small critters.
They could not speak, therefore they were enchanted.
Now it is home to much more sinister creatures.
They expect the world to fit their naïve moulds.
When it does not, their sand castles blow away.
Grain by grain they are relocated by external forces,
The majority have an infinite amount of names for them.
All of these celestial men are not men at all,
They have no interest in our wrong- doings.
They do not care whether we chant their names.
Celestial men cannot see, they never take revenge.
For gravity has no eyes.
May 5, 2011
May 5, 2011 at 3:03 PM UTC
Twirling around like ash, focused more on the dance of the fall, than the displacement of what was whole when it hit. The pieces may never take the form of what was, but they surely have only relocated to become a part of something bigger.
So, literally, out of the blue I say to my cousin:
"*My brother, how will we ever know?
Truth is
...Maybe...
We won't.
Sometimes, we have to be happy with a mystery,
or feel whatever we feel and respect it for what it is.*"
There's always so much going on we can't know all of what we want. Just be.
Do what lifts you, beyond the physical body.
Sometimes we just need someone to really connect with, openly, honestly, raw.
Sometimes we really just need to reconnect with our higher selves.
Sometimes we forget we're all one in the same.
Sometimes can be most times with blurred lines of past times.
But I'm here right now.
My mirror's sometimes clouded
But I'm surrounded on a mountain
with a new perspective
Don't wanna leave the peak,
For right now this existence is perfect the way it seems.
Peculiar interpretation, but after all,
Life
Is but a dream
I'm awake, ready to be awoken. Sometimes words fly, yet better left unspoken.
I'm here, and looking through a screen you can't see me choking
I give my life away, take a piece as a token
I can only really hug myself, in an attempt to feel less broken.
I won't feel this way in the morning,
Each day is a new page in the story.
Everyone wants a piece of the glory///
But I'll lay me down in the water,
Drown
Or float on to a foreign territory
Away, but never to falter
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 3:35 AM UTC
1.) Our US based Clients have recently begun negotiating/implementing changes to the terms of our Purchasing Agreements that will allow them the ability to pay in currencies other than the US Dollar. Usually, the most requested forms of payment are now in either RMB/Yuan, Euros, Rubles, or Dinars.
2.) Tied to this, we have also noticed that our US based Clients are relocating their payment centers out of the US, usually from New York. Instead, we are now being told that we will need to be invoicing our US Clients through their new payment offices, located in such places as Dubai, Singapore or more times than not; Hong Kong. Also, those same individuals/Department VPs, usually based out of New York, we are now finding, have also suddenly relocated to these various countries in order to set up their new payment centers.
The companies involved are household names.
So if they are starting to diversify their payment centers away from using US Dollars, we (meaning I and my Chinese partner), can only assume that they know something is coming and that being tied to a US Dollar based transaction could place them at a competitive disadvantage.
Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 2:06 PM UTC
Relocated when
I
Was
Eight,
Gran picked me up
Outside
The school gate
This would be the last time,
For a
Long time,
To be present here,
My old school
Somewhere in my mind
It got locked away,
The places
Where we
Used to
Play
Now the years have passed,
Returning to
My old school
At
Last
It looks exactly the same,
Except someone's shrunk it!
My eyes, they shut,
Am I in
Lilliput?
Song- Where Do the Children Play? Cat Stevens.
Nov 7, 2024
Nov 7, 2024 at 5:47 AM UTC
Thicker beard.
Consistent and stringent hygiene habits.
Less swearing, more silence.
Politically informed.
More attentive while driving.
Relocated out of that seaside town where people only feuded.
Avoids familiar faces, except for those that have been held close.
At least the beach is still pristine.
Some miles away, a man believes he deserves everything there ever was.
Indefinite lay-offs for current federal employees.
All military members on leave called back to base.
A box is somewhere.
It has food for one day,
Two passports,
And a pistol.
It sits idly by the door.
Dec 6, 2017
Dec 6, 2017 at 6:19 PM UTC
A man sits on a chair, centered to those around,
aware of them, glancing briefly waiting.
He developed a taste, this bag however only teased
his receptors, and gave more burn than ease.
Tea bagging is a fine art, to which is paid a king's ransom;
the shaft, though Godly, was not bound for glory...
how he wanted!
There was an exchange of stories, striking similarities;
he had been joined by others, relocated, and told to start over.
Mystics popped the cap, dismissing gender...
how they wanted!
A man sat in a bar;
no knowledge of modern era,
ceiling had tired tiles, a friend sang
to a new lover, and
two in love danced to karaoke,
in sync to their drunken state,
how he loved her!
The party was lavish;
gay youth empowered,
a welcome meat market of pulsing power,
a man sat on the couch...
watching, two ladies necked beside him,
together they danced to sultry tones,
eyes scanning, heads turned, smiles,
how he wanted.
Sep 12, 2010
Sep 12, 2010 at 11:47 PM UTC
The branch of learning
On this tree we call life is short or long
Arent we all at least once in our lifetime
A soldier of our own personal struggle
Returned home with leaves of green
We display our triumphs
only
To find we are relocated
In this courtroom
Of prompt condemnation
And served copied advice
Like a fish out of water
We seek the sea of our own redemption
But we were hooked
By those who knew better than us about our evolution
Better than us about our mistakes
Better than us about what we misplaced
Better than us about what we could have produced
Or should have produced
Or given
Or receieved.
The truth is not hard to see
It’s only hard to stand for
Love is the answer written inside the hearts of man
But who can look within anyones world and judge it
We each have many worlds inside
We each are unique inside
We can only see our own
Injured, abused, forgotten, betrayed
Ignored, accused, judge without delay
Trying,believing,hoping and strong
Stuck in a world where we’re always wrong
Or never wrong
And going to say it
The branch of learning
On this tree we call life is short or long
I live by my own advice
And care for the fruits of any goodness
Love is not what we chose it to be
Love has its own definition
Hurt is not what we choose it to be
Hurt has its own definition
Perfection is not what we choose it to be
Perfection has its own definition
Friendship is not what we choose it to be
Friendship has its own definition
Inside each of us is an unknown territory to the world outside us
I do not know my way around the world inside you
I only know my own
And in my own world
The tree is LIFE
all that is not life eventually withers away
(inspirational quote)
Life is about living, inside our own smile, above our own limits, around our own obstacles, outside our own prison before our own judgement
Jun 22, 2010
Jun 22, 2010 at 4:44 AM UTC
It does not hurt very bad
But it still hurts immensely, if that’s sensible
The dose of anesthesia was drastically high,
A little more please I still feel this.
There, my body is no longer affected.
All of these nerves relocated from the tangible, to the depths of my spirit
I must release my soul, delimit my mind, and free my spirit
To acquire the numbness, peace, that I cannot allow my vices to take credit for
Jun 2, 2015
Jun 2, 2015 at 8:56 AM UTC
As of late I have felt less like a person
And more like the aftermath of a shattered glass
My body’s innards that were once safely trapped underneath skin
are now sprawled out across the kitchen floor
And the smaller pieces slipped into tiny dust ridden cracks that a broom can’t reach
The parts of myself that used to be neighbors
Have been forcefully relocated to different continents
And no longer recognize one another
It’s exactly like dropping a glass
When the circular base of it
Bounces and shatters it looks like a small jagged crystal crown
Perfectly shaped for house mice
Some mouse king might wear it like I use to wear
My heart.
A symbol of power- of knowing that
If all else fails I have this heart, this crown
So when people look at it they will know without a doubt
That I am good and I am deserving
But now with that piece of my body separate
From my other organs I am not so sure
Being so broken the only hope of reconstruction
Is in that dust pan in the closet
And as it collects my dangerous little shards of organs
I’ll pick up the bigger pieces with my hands
And hope that my blood is thick enough to act as glue.
Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 2:36 PM UTC
You know the cool advancements over the moon, you are self aware, you have locked the castle and you have the key
You are alive, but are you living?
New definitions of omnipotence
Add-ons to mythology and legends
Commemorate the mirages from our travels in the blazing desert
The rage is shaking Torrent Mountains
Our love is somewhere lost at sea
We’re being relocated to skid row by jubilant cherubs
Seminal Neanderthals are steadily cupping their hands to somehow try and avert their chances of getting short changed
We are living in the faded age
The sun is a soggy cancerous being
Nihilistic brigades pour out on to the bleak playing field and its side lines
Preserving the first shots on the non-guilty
Spiddles of blood on the adrenaline fuels catalyst of violence
The crickets and aphids are gassed
Birth, life, death, after life or after death
Forgo this bluff of nothingness, of course there's more
You go first into this quest; for the clarity that shatters the idea of our precipitous finales
-Tommy Johnson
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 1:14 PM UTC
There is a story of which I know,
That no happy heart would dare to go,
The chimes ring silent in the frigid wind,
And the harpsichord’s tune lowers, tightens.
-
Before my tale, I must make preface,
The tale, metaphors, rightly seek justice,
For there are no emotions quite like found here,
Life just continues, a grinding gear.
-
When the flower lost its petal,
It said “These things just happen.”
It wasn’t time, it was a crime,
To let this flower die ugly.
-
The tree has lost its apple,
The only thing that marked its beauty,
No longer can it the apple cradle,
Its brilliant seed so fruiting.
-
Think of the dark storm cloud,
That lost its rain so pure,
It likely never will be found,
This sickness has no cure.
-
The feeling burrows in your stomach,
It eats away at your heart,
It terrorizes your mind,
To know they have found another to start.
-
Though no one has ever died,
From a muscle left this broken,
I guess I should have lied
Asleep, instead be woken.
-
Bring me the silken cloth,
From my box of fragile,
It will protect this darkened stone,
And mend it back to evil.
-
Think of every time you’ve cried,
About something you could not change,
And see if you still care to know,
Why it is yourself to blame.
-
Think of every category,
that you could have mended,
All of it an allegory
To your love intended.
-
When you see the bitter face,
Of reject and spite and be hated,
Coming from your used to be
Loved, but relocated.
-
You will find yourself the virus
Of your conjoined lives,
You will never be pious
Enough for their love, despised.
-
**** everything about yourself,
It helps ease the anguish,
But keep yourself here and conscious,
So you understand true languish.
Jan 20, 2013
Jan 20, 2013 at 12:19 AM UTC