"secede" poems
I want to tell anyone in the South
Who is clinging desperately to their confederate heritage
That succeed and secede aren't just homonyms... They're opposites.
Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 8:40 PM UTC
Draped in fresh-knitted pearls
we traipsed
into saccharine peach orchard
The summer heat loped about our dew-kissed ******
****** - appropriated from dawn spent on neatly shorn plantation grass
Ambling into the knotted palatial arbor
we sat each in our own tree crux
behinds nestled upon ashen bark
Juice dripping in our grip
down our cast nets of flesh
sprawled about the branches
inset with gravity-defying liquescent orbs
dusted in translucent mink
painted with smears of
citrine, coral, amber, and ichorous
clinging to brass stem
The rondures secede to mandible
taut between palms pull and polished ivories
- torn-
Fluent in dulcet discourse
We cloak ourselves in provocative juice tatting
Until such time that our congealing garments
were found mapping the bark's topography
A saccharine map to the breath of soil
Bloodstone ants found our map
and had begun traversing - portent
to seize our treasure
We surrendered our jewelled cages
and took flight
to the sun-drunken lake to bathe
and swim
until heavy lids kissed moistly
heavily supped on the draught
sleep - beckoned transience
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 9:48 PM UTC
dust has collected in this once filled room of my mine
it's floated and settled on the last few things left behind
spellbind
windchime
now i can say this empty space is all mine
8 years of pacing this room
8 years of shouting at the moon
8 years of sleeping til noon
just to ignore the fact I meant nothing to you
so much anger has made home in my bones
the way you used to speak about me felt like being casted with stones
I used to try and drown out your tasteless, colorless tone
you type "she's dramatic" in a text on your phone
I expected this feeling of indifference to feel free with no stop lights
yet this empty space
and this empty mind
coincide
with what I've known this whole time
that all too familiar feeling of restlessness has come to an end
and even though there are still memories burned into my head
I don't believe I have anything else left unsaid
I envied your callousness
I despised your self-righteousness
and i ached at your lack of consequence
what caught your eye was never my elegance
but rather my callowness
as the ice in your drink swirls and melts
and you're blaming me besides everyone else
as your anger starts to swell
just remember it was me who wasn't treated well
we can keep our heads down while our eyes meet on the street
while you pretend I don't resemble meadowsweet
and that we never danced in my kitchen with me on your feet
but
to be honest
in the end
we were always offbeat
when you chose to secede
I found you to not be an aesthete
if you could agree
to be without me
this story is begging to no longer be told
so maybe I'll revisit this time of my life when I've seen how my life will unfold
til then my king is fallen on this chess board
my feelings are buried far past the sea's shore
and I've finally
stopped keeping score
Feb 25, 2022
Feb 25, 2022 at 2:02 PM UTC
"I will beat this," I swear.
No one else has,
as there is no end,
but there must be an end.
I'll find it.
Watching everyone spin
on their axis,
touting their progress,
there must be a someone
or some thing!
Watch me spin.
Spin and fidget.
Watch me spin,
spin and fidget.
Spin the blades
to your right.
Now you're loading. Now
you're spinning.
"I will beat this," rings obsolete.
Now, "I will secede,"
seems pragmatic.
Is it romantic to
be at one with nothing?
Cross legged on the floor,
I whisper,
to myself,
"Oh,
you
bet."
Oct 8, 2018
Oct 8, 2018 at 1:42 AM UTC
This is dedicated to the millions who died in the Biafra - Nigeria civil war
Counting the losses
Of my people at dawn
Breaking the curses
Of no wholly source
I sought to wage war
Without funds and money
I thought to secede
From a nation strong and many
I was full of envy for vain minorities
I am an educated soldier
Of an eastern defunct border
Proclaiming Biafra
Was so big an agenda
Building militias
To **** and to tether
My opposed tribal brothers
And the critics of my powers
I denied much on media
All that hid in my fingers
My plans I held higher
The proclamation of Biafra
I am an educated soldier
Of an eastern defunct border
Visible to the blind
Were were ready for a fight
Audible to the deaf
Huge price of war to pay
Hausas killed in numbers
By my igbo sons and daughters
yorubas were driven without boots
by my fellow Biafran youths
Ibibios were suspicious
So were Urhobos, Itsekiris and Ijaws
Enmity was at its peak
So high that none could breach
All these were my agenda
My services to Biafra
Was so good for me to render
On May 30th 1967
Was just like a fable
I declared in the open
Without even a wobble
The state of Biafra
Almost complete; an agenda
An anthem was composed
Flag and currency; none could oppose
The heat of the tension
Is such I couldn't mention
The height of jubilation
Not all did it favor
There was sorrow in the land
This, I cared not apart
I was a symbol in the world
For the havoc I did cause
I am an educated soldier
Of an eastern defunct border
The war began
With no money at hand
We fought with pride
With pains in our hands
We fought with might
Defending our father's land
We died in mass
Numbers of air attacks
We killed civilians
Of the tribes against our plan
We'd shoot in the heart
Every oppose we'd catch
Nigerians were too strong
but we swore we'd burn
I saw no flaw
In the havoc I did cause
I am an educated soldier
Of an eastern defunct border
Hunger and thirst
Was order of the day
Sorrow was a pest
and death had no end
Too many burdens to bear
The pains of war to pay
We ran out of guns
Bullets, grenades, even bombs
We had but matchets
Arrows, stones and spears
But We faced an army
Of full artillery
Our tragedy had no end
Even God couldn't help
So our homicide was cast
And We became fossils at last
Let those who seek war; stop and think
The pains of it;higher than that of peace
So I e'caped in a copter
Leaving my people to suffer
So on exile I did ponder
while millions died in yonder
I am an educated soldier
Of an eastern defunct border
I write from the grave
From the hell of my pains
I was that educated soldier
Who took you to battle borders
And ran, leaving you to suffer
I was that educated soldier
Of an eastern defunct border.
Oct 14, 2016
Oct 14, 2016 at 9:00 PM UTC
Please,
leave me be
I will plead
guilty
to experiencing
feelings
and expressing them
so humanly
I can not
perceive
the vanity
in assimilation
with apathy
Growing elderly
So **** Pleas. .
and asking please
to secede
from an already
established
worldly apartheid
to everyone
and everything
Who participates in
empathy for nothing
but to breathe,
Eat
****
****
and Sleep
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 4:19 PM UTC
Sightless I see, within my mind
An ocean of timeless horizons
A tranquil night, this endless dream
the realm my being resides in
A scattered thought from a shattered light
spreads out and takes hold inside me
An echoed sound from a stream of silence
Clings on with a hidden binding
A well so deep, a depth so dark
A thousand memories to overcome
And yet this sound, a song renewed
Emerges saying, "What's done is done."
What has been lost, while yet not found
may be restored in days unknown
The empty vessel, the broken bond
Can mend in time - but not alone
The night, while dark, must still secede
And though it may grow long,
I wait in hope your light will come
So I may see the dawn.
May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 12:54 AM UTC
Dinner with old friends:
salmon with red cabbage, asparagus, Caesar's salad, penne
with broccoli, two white wines.
Jane Jacobs could analyze how it all got to our table
or even how their daughter came to us from Cambodia.
The economy or market bringing a thing of beauty, the farms,
the trucks,
such comfort. The ancients knew this too
yet we are anxious about famine, genocide and nuclear war.
How can we organize (govern) ourselves to end self-imposed
suffering?
That Quebec and Puerto Rico may secede peacefully at any
time a majority chooses is a source of pride. Why not
Kurds, Chechyns, Tibetans and Armenians?
Difficult to write a poem about it. At table, candlelight, we
debate
or whine about the other side winning and making a mess
of our lives. The election could be stolen, tampering with
voting machines,
what policy question does that possibility raise? War in Iraq,
school testing, prison population. Religion, the abyss
surrounding the
little promontory life.
It'll all work out in the end. Go to your daily practice, be a
good citizen.
Another failed effort to write what I mean. Such confusion, yet
two white wines.
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 11:51 AM UTC
Corroding off in wreckless control
Repeated lines stretching infinitely in ambiguity
Sharp muscle relaxant mistakes
As we career off the road
Into a ravenous singularity
We are unforgiving, cynical yet synthetically joyous
Quick to pardon
Whipped with a gold leash
Delicate, leaves, Celtic music
Rubik's cubes in our throats
We're ready to let love in, willing
Nova tech, drunk masks and indication
Indignation, we clutch, we fail
Partial to conditions
Stones out of focus
Accelerate
Engines bleed borders
You are the free way
Impotent with quartz remnants
Ruins to our fantasy
You hide history
Covered in my burrow
Braking until necks break & bags burst
Powdered hair, liquid lips
Let's drive home
Go beyond the limit
Break each others bones
And crush our entities
Suffocate on suffixes
Her explanation acquits the doubt
As we appear closer than we may actually be
Industrial stacks stretch towards invisibility
Letting go of their concentrate
Gelatin mind
levitate into connection
Cups turned upside down
Entrapping ego in near vacuum
Aqua ducts bouncing off feline eyes
2 & a 4
Perfect air in a foreign atmosphere
Spinned on axis, ways to conduct
Your supply
Secede madness
Eternal order
Lungs sharply inhale with uncertainty
Hydroplaning your attempts at adultery
Decision was never your thing
Unmoving at every turn
Passion with objects
Reactions flicker between humility
It gives gifts
Your skin melts to the touch
Chocolate in magma
Molten sound deafens drench
Jealous mess, dividend
Hugging and dripping black with stability
Back, holy scripture written with integration
Sealed with treachery, acetate photography
Capturing clear innocence
Boredom and sinfulness
Spiked militant
Pencil drawn neuroses, veil
Bow down to schematics, we're radar
Sonar structure solar
It's all part of the process
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 12:59 PM UTC
You can burn all you please,
Decimate, obliterate;
But I won't even warm,
Already burning hot
From the inside out,
I was always here,
Made to handle your demons,
I cannot be fazed by the darkness,
Fire starter you may be;
But I'm flint for your kindle,
Fuel for your perseverance,
But once you are fully lit
You will never be put out,
And so I'll secede,
For all may stick like burs
But I'm no Velcro;
Volcano on an island;
You'll see my trail in the ashes
All around you fiery torch
And to who will you pass?
I will not know, but hope
That fortunate soul can handle your fire...
© okpoet
Feb 22, 2013
Feb 22, 2013 at 12:15 AM UTC
I saw how you used to stare at him,
How you used to smile at him,
Saw how you allured him to your bed,
How you saw him secede his own,
Throw them out the street for you to sit on the throne,
Saw how you squeezed every coin from his pocket and accounts,
How you threw him out when he could yield no more,
I saw you!
I’ve seen how you’ve been looking at him,
Walking before him ******** dressed, shaking what you think you have,
Giving him your best slutty smiles,
I’ve seen you!
I won’t stand here and watch!
No! Not anymore!
This one is mine,
My one and only,
My beloved and the father of my children,
I will protect him with my very life,
I will not stand and watch you annihilate us,
The way you did others,
I will stop you and tear you down,
Oh you home wrecker!
©Anita W.
Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 8:45 AM UTC
THE PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS
We declare
- this our bedroom -
an independent
dominion
secede from
the United Kingdom
& the Commonwealth
of Nations
(although still enjoying
our European unions) .
Us a Republic
of Love
out on our own
our New Found Land
as Donne had done
a currency
of caresses
our national tongue
...kisses
needing nothing
but the other
to complete
our independence
flying the flag
of happiness
in this our brave
new world
of
Love.
Feb 14, 2019
Feb 14, 2019 at 4:00 AM UTC
If y'all were to go to Heaven
Y'all would be sent down to The South
In a little town called Texas
Where the tea is sweeter
Where chivalry still exists
Where we all drive muddy pickups
And dance in the rain in our cowboy boots
Where we all say howdy
And say ain't like it's not meant for over yonder
There isn't a single stranger in Texas
We all know each other
We are a tight knit town always waiting to give a lending hand
If we were to secede
The other states would miss us
There would be a big gaping hole on the map
The heart and the fist of The United States of America
We are Texans
You mess with one
You get the whole can of whoopass
We could be your worst nightmare
Or your best dream
Just don't talk smack from where I'm from
We will get on you with our whips and shotguns
We are Texans
We don't settle
And we don't keep calm
We are God- Fearin', Constituional- lovin', Gun- Bearin' Republicans.
Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 12:09 AM UTC
flux.
a word whose very sound connotes its meaning, a sloshing state of change
a liquid moment,
for we solids,
of bone and flesh,
though
we may be islands of stolidity,
entrenched, focused, organized,
when the surround sounds
of change are all about
you too are
fluxed
the serenity of splendid isolation
is not an impervious shell,
close eyes, ears, nostrils, mouth
these liquid times we abode,
inescapable from the roller coaster of
crashing storms of our
environment
try as I might,
cannot recede into a
white sealed envelipe,
cannot secede from
the froth of current events,
in the age of no distances,
and the rotational revolution of
but one lever,
a single beating wing
can disrupt the
the supply and communication
channels of our normative existential machinations
let me retreat unto my poetry trance,
but that choice
is currently unavailable
be wary of the calm of routine,
we live in a time of
the olympics of change,
and we cannot walk
on water,
nor tread forever
flux.
the liquidity curse of our
ever curving intersections
Jun 9, 2025
Jun 9, 2025 at 11:57 PM UTC
#*Dedicated to the agitators of Oregon.
(We all want you to secede, baby !*)
Let it BURN while you feel the TRUMP.
I hope Soros pays you well for your efforts.
Here's my one-man backlash
to the whacked-out blacklight
of the whitelash blackout.
So don't try to whitewash the knockout,
blockheads.
¡ JUST SAY NO to one-world GLOBALISM !
Nov 11, 2016
Nov 11, 2016 at 12:39 PM UTC
I would LOVE to give you my heart.
And once I find it, I’ll look you up.
You don’t understand
I’ve looked in the present, and in the past but somehow, along the way, it got lost
Well it was more of a … ok , so I ripped it out and threw it away.
I don’t think I need it.
People live without hearts right…
For example…The Grinch. Didn’t he not have a heart… wait, no.
Well, whatever, I don’t think they’re THAT important.
But I said that about you too...
It was a pain anyway.
Seriously .
Sometimes it was about to burst when I saw you.
People jokingly say they had a heart attack when they see their true love,
well let’s just say when I see you I feel like world war III is using my heart as it’s arena .
Like … like the battles moved from my heart to my stomach to my brain and my whole body can only endure …so. Much. Pain.
Blood may have been flowing through my veins but I’ve always been cold blooded. Whether I was in a warm embrace or alone in the snow storm that is your emotion, the icy chill that starts at my fingertips and travels to my heart has not secede since that day.
It’s amazing how much love the heart can hold, when it also harbors so much hate.
I’d tell you I miss my heart but I don’t.
Don’t miss the lingering feelings when I was upset don’t miss the staying up late at night thinking about what you said don’t miss the hours I spent daydreaming about you and I definitely don’t miss saying “baby… I love you”
So if I find it, I’ll give you a call and give it to you, but I’ll tell you now, it’s not worth much, I gave up on it a long, long time ago.
Jun 1, 2011
Jun 1, 2011 at 1:40 PM UTC
My planet is pregnant
My planet is pregnant
And soon, it will eat for two
It never happens to me
It never happens to me
but not too sure about you
The fire, it burns
The fire, it burns
And it doesn't care who
Here to succeed
Here to secede
To absolutely nothing
Just here to feed
Just here in the feed
Saluting an image of the sun
For you i bleed
Through you i bleed
Until nothing real is left
And if you dribble simply
Through the dimples
Of simplicity
The ripples
Impact the world
At capacity
And if you dare
To bare
The battlements
Of their glares
Just stare
Straight through them
And if you are to die
In compliance
To the night
Than you have
Chosen wisely
As knighted
And You can hail the sun
Or you can hail the son
You can dream a little dream
You could be the one
You could be just one
Of many
You could **** for fun
You can **** the fun
Out of me
Just make the earth your *****
Just make the earth *****
To shake and spin us free
Just let us the bomb the rich
Just getting bombed by the rich
Blow up some buildings
Just tools in a ditch
Just fools in a hitch
Slowly dying
And from the ashes born
The masses with their scorn
As the dead walk in the lorn
Of the flock
Warned of the stalk
Bred in the knots of laws
And from the fires rise
The desires and the lies
Of flies caught in the web
Surprised by the gems
Of the steps
Toward the lights
If all is to be
A batter
Of our dreams
Than better me
In the flames
Of naivety
You can always see
But you cant always see
Everything
You can always be
But you cant always be
Anything
You can always speak
You can only speak
Of what you see
Singing
Feeling
Seeing
Talking
Tingling
Thinking
Like me
Just like me
You're just like me
Fading
Erasing
Then recreating
The eyes
To see
The cries
To see
The smears
To feel
All the mes of the world
All the mes of the worlds
All the mes of mine
All the mines are mimes
All the mimes are shining
All of mine are shining
From the world
From the whirl
Of woe
From a world of war
From a world
We don't know anymore
Caste in horror
Upon a ******
Breast
A deplorable
Harvest
Of the best
Intentions
Left
Unsaid
We are here
We are there
We are everywhere
But where
We should be
Beware
Its the heart beating
In the breathing
Thinking
That the whispering
Is hissing
Go there
But im still aware
Of the glaring
Statements
Of vacant mass
Out lasting
The past
In static
Spaceships
Of mind-frames
And perspectives
Ive elected
To turn off
Scoffing
In the loss
Of words
Blurring
In the thirst
Of the worse
Id be cursed to know
But the first to know
That the dam broke
And the flow
Drown
The voices out
Until
The fire
Is out
Just hurry
Get the **** out
Just go
Just go
Just
Go
Apr 13, 2013
Apr 13, 2013 at 11:43 PM UTC
i wonder if our skin cells are divided into more categories than we think
maybe some are a country and some are skyscrapers and wet city roads glistening with rain and sweat and rat ****
and in our skin's second layer are murals and graffiti tags and ice statues made up of chemical compounds and crystallizations waiting to be exposed
or maybe they're divided between cells you did and did not touch and if they are i hope the ones you ruined decide to secede and fall down the shower drain so i can finally be a new person
again.
Jul 24, 2016
Jul 24, 2016 at 2:02 AM UTC
Melodic perfection winds through my ears
and finds my heart.
Authentic purity overcomes me
in the length of a cleansing sigh.
I am an extension of the music.
Let me fall through the lush lyrics
as they slip into nothingness,
chased by whispers of rhythms
that bow to the soft,
solo sad note.
Standing alone,
it is that suspended heartbreak
that becomes my very salvation.
I am captivated and hang motionless,
unable to control the cry for solace.
The silence that follows
carries naught
but a trembling tear.
Its slow, deliberate splash
deprives me of breath
and depraves the scant sanctuary
that is so painfully fragile.
The truth is now sustained;
We are the composition.
Awaken what is hidden
for a higher reminder
and walk me,
dance me,
romance me to the night’s contentment.
Only then do the wandering secede
to the late goodbye conveyed
by the instrumental vow
of the final vibrato.
Sep 4, 2013
Sep 4, 2013 at 5:43 PM UTC
Color in my dull palette,
light in my dark abyss,
eyes to my unseeing soul.
You who has conquered this heart,
knows nothing of a battle.
Sitting as still as a metal pole.
Hold my fate
gingerly I plead.
As the storm's waters
in my heart secede.
I've given everything,
anything and all.
Please, I beg you,
quit trying to stall.
Oct 4, 2015
Oct 4, 2015 at 7:33 AM UTC
Why not be cynics, and all act like dogs today, maybe walk around with lamps to say, where are the honest men, where are their fathers then, we don't need this **** as we can, **** on legs, and beg for space, protest in plays, and secede to the streets, let us all be ******** today, just like [Diogenes].
Feb 13, 2013
Feb 13, 2013 at 12:45 PM UTC
THE PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS
We declare
- this our bedroom -
an independent
dominion
secede from
the United Kingdom
& the Commonwealth
of Nations
(although still enjoying
our European unions) .
Us a Republic
of Love
out on our own
our New Found Land
as Donne had done
a currency
of caresses
our national tongue
...kisses
needing nothing
but the other
to complete
our independence
flying the flag
of happiness
in this our brave
new world
of
Love.
Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 7:07 PM UTC
A darkened heart has hidden places,
away from those who judge his deed,
chasing shadows into alleys,
& looking how to fill a need,
Cloaking all,
his face is covered,
as endless pain the empty bleed,
an emotional vampire,
drinking their blood,
taking lives within the greed,
Waving in the other bad ones,
guttural beast's,
a different breed,
laid upon the alter for him,
planting there a rotten seed,
We must fight,
against an enemy,
I ride in on a native steed,
though he may look like I do,
sadly though,
he mustn't lead,
From the ashes,
fanning fires,
I hope my words you truly read,
he, we know will likely burn us,
& do so with such lightning speed,
This is who we wanted leading,
as many now,
wish to secede,
though I am crying for a Nation,
saving us,
must be agreed,
I wear my war paint into battle,
sweat rolls down,
a Native bead,
I wear a headdress for your freedom,
hear my yipping words,
I plead,
In hopes that we can find a new way,
a warning from the past to heed,
we must take the bad from gardens,
getting out a choking ****
I look to skies for distant answers
as I chew upon a hallowed reed,
tell me Father's
which way do we go,
by the wise we will be freed
Cherie Nolan © 2016
Nov 14, 2016
Nov 14, 2016 at 2:15 PM UTC
[series] Poems in Water Vol.1
“Blessing That Hurts [Nostalgia]”
To make beauty out of pain it damns the eyes,
NO – DAMS the eyes,
See how they overflow?
See how our hearts secede with each changing season?
We’re only 21; we got no debt owed to love,
So what’s the rush?
What’s the rush?
What’s the rush?
I mean; we DO get each other high,
But on my descent from the sky,
I cry.
Each time.
And we lie, drowning each other in one another’s’ tears.
A kind curse. Forgive me.
A blessing that hurts.
Nostalgia is like a knife through my hippocampus sometimes.
Because I don’t want to remember,
But sometimes; things come up.
It is unfathomable how fast the time goes by.
Things are different from how they were 3 years ago.
Yes, my heart does still beat rapidly at just hearing your name.
Thought you were the once because you drove me insane.
But;
How often now – raging weeping for a ‘Do-Over’.
Love lust gives and lust taketh, from you.
Sad dreams. The moment at which you recognized: your own eyes have lied,
And mind as well was deceiving your heart.
8 years for this crush lust;
I must remind myself.
Despite that, there’s other fish,
And while I look – God’s with me,
So im never really by myself…
-Ep
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 7:27 PM UTC