"rootlessly" poems
Ripened by night
the profound sea,
as a huge archaic mirror
embracing a pasture for reflected star
Beneath the stage of luminous enthusiasm,
wavelessly rising your meditation,
which unrequitedly falling in love
with the moonbeam
Withering somber luna,
as the faint Cupid
shooting an arrow of ice
into an auroral mirage
with shining rosiness
Ought to feel out eternity
the lily wings, finally
turned out to be the feeble oar
knocking the ebb rootlessly
Affection
inexhaustible braveness and endless scrupulousness
But what are these amongst us? -
The tacit contract
between sunrise and seaside;
also the blurry distance
between darkness and dreamland
Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 3:39 PM UTC
Man goes through his existence walking on the edge of nothingness, while his bones are cracking viscerally; his humiliation from slave to slave is now constantly ripening, since he has long been the petty plaything of worms and maggots. Now he would rather practice walking in place a little more stubbornly, the tactics of the guest-passenger, stripped to the bone, are straining against each other, a writhing swarm of beetles is stopping his running, because a rubbing interest would decimate, lick the big whole, from which the average person certainly gets less.
Belittled, low-lying ants fight in a noisy concert quite often, because whoever begs for a warning, calls for help or hopes is now a suspect element; This current vile Age plants dust-scattering arguments in the ranks of corruptible souls, because everything and everyone is accompanied by the fever of possession for a lifetime, the depths of the underworldly filth often disgust even those who try to tolerate the filth.
In tendered dog nests, they would tender the juicy marrow bone, which the average person can never receive, and cannot win, as some kind of deserved, simplified honorarium, or pleasing compensation, rootlessly, to the detriment of life and other accounts, and a few hearty slaps are due to those who speak up and humble themselves for remaining European and human.
And while the canings are increasing in number, they immediately **** off the homeless who are begging and begging, they have to struggle sleeplessly, like a miserable ***** with the uncertain hurricane tide raging to the point of unknown, with storks' nests, not just a whistling nickel samovar that will last another hundred years - but a century of nuclear mushroom clouds!
Sep 9, 2025
Sep 9, 2025 at 12:22 AM UTC
I awoke under a canopy
The vicinity was uncanny...
I remained inane, in need to retain the venues address,
I rolled off the bed,
Impeccable marble bruising my once undistorted mindset
I stumbled onto my feet noticing the luxuriant substances surrounding my loss of balance
Rootlessly searching from one room to another finding ones that only emulated the previous
An amorphous shadow appears before me
I immediately vilify the object
"Why are you holding me captive?"
I ask knowing I am no damsel in distress
Its stolid voice rejects the question's request of knowledge
Intelligence full of compunction fabricated by nadir of the time
I am lulled by the shadow's signs
I hope it will not be onerous to set aside the vestige of my frustration
Replacing it with prestige for the mysterious constrain of the situation
I annex the didactic without further noise
It has hushed me with persuasive manifestation of reasonless roaming
Until we reach a glass door
I assume it to open clearly, but to the touch I'm falling
Into distant realities
I come to realize I am standing on sand,
Observing the gray of the window to the soul of a moonlit stranger I will never know
Holding the hands of a madman whilst eyes of affection hold me
Feb 21, 2019
Feb 21, 2019 at 9:06 PM UTC
twice
i washed my black sweater
still
when i put it on
it smelled like you
i have been through
hundred times worse
bleed my heart out
on a wet concrete floor
picked every daisy
ruthlessly
rootlessly
just recently
parted
from a lifetime
but you
and your scent
in under my skin
i think somehow
you represent
time
and how it changes
everything
what have i lost
what have i gained
i am older now
pull my sweater off
chuck it back into the washer
drown it with laundry detergents
and perfume
when i put it back on
it better not smell of
broken dreams
and anxiety
Nov 28, 2018
Nov 28, 2018 at 12:08 PM UTC
Little pangs of " property"
( Images of slavery )
Left- over from "another world"
••
We seek lovers (slave "labor")
And lead them "in chains "
Thru the --- corridors
••
( property )
•
Over our heads the cool winds play
While we
Trapped in our bodies
Rootlessly "rooting"
Pigs on the prowl
Mar 2, 2014
Mar 2, 2014 at 4:59 PM UTC