Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"shipping" poems
This isn't Rome I'm standing still because of statutes Stone grill: I a carved marble statue not a muscle dares, Near frozen by the fear, let it go I hear over shoulder: perfect pass if I get shot over a penalty Is it clear? my arms are arms? a load chopper; in his shades, do those aviators make me even darker? (if I studied aviation I could take off I can hover, I can…) Wait. he's moving closer, every hair strand an antenna, I can feel him, The smell of disdain on his glare, stained blood on his hands, another brother, my brother Guiltier with every pace so --  show your hands, foot mixed with concrete I take this order serious, my motions are motive and mistaken for resist, Wait. Is it his stare or am I ****** (Why did I decide to go my friends wouldn't believe this…) limitations to the thoughts; am I arrested or caught? I'm cold on the surface, Erode so slow is my sediment evidence, A blue god so I'm pacified, I'm hesitant, he calls and I say that I'm innocent, I'm witnessing the transitioning from eruption to ocean -- volcanic Blue Medusa, can you only sculpt destruction? (I'm not 3 dimensional, I'm real and I matter, I'm real and I matter) I'm real, But I shatter, Gravel if determined that I'm rude so I can't breath, Gravel if My license plate removed I don't leave, I don't speak, I don't flee, I'm not free, I believe, That this happen to my mothers, mother mothers' brother, Brother from another was granite and granted he's valuable but only in a home -- of course I'm quartz in the making A corpse still shaking Cause a wallet was mistaken Or I.D. was misplaced So, I'm on the rocks since the bar says that I'm a criminal, velvet rope divider marks my life and a vigil, a wake, or a hashtag, you choose, glass house, Cold Stone’s, rocky road, Medusa licks his finger tips same finger which petrified me in the first place, Reminded I'm in Rome as I'm standing there motionless a statue for display or a trophy for the kitchen, this art is not for sale there will be no shipping, With solidarity through our solidification, It won't matter if I look back, I Matter and I’m Black.
0
Aug 20, 2016
Aug 20, 2016 at 10:56 AM UTC
Blue Medusa
This isn't Rome I'm standing still because of statutes Stone grill: I a carved marble statue not a muscle dares, Near frozen by the fear, let it go I hear over shoulder: perfect pass if I get shot over a penalty Is it clear? my arms are arms? a load chopper; in his shades, do those aviators make me even darker? (if I studied aviation I could take off I can hover, I can…) Wait. he's moving closer, every hair strand an antenna, I can feel him, The smell of disdain on his glare, stained blood on his hands, another brother, my brother Guiltier with every pace so --  show your hands, foot mixed with concrete I take this order serious, my motions are motive and mistaken for resist, Wait. Is it his stare or am I ****** (Why did I decide to go my friends wouldn't believe this…) limitations to the thoughts; am I arrested or caught? I'm cold on the surface, Erode so slow is my sediment evidence, A blue god so I'm pacified, I'm hesitant, he calls and I say that I'm innocent, I'm witnessing the transitioning from eruption to ocean -- volcanic Blue Medusa, can you only sculpt destruction? (I'm not 3 dimensional, I'm real and I matter, I'm real and I matter) I'm real, But I shatter, Gravel if determined that I'm rude so I can't breath, Gravel if My license plate removed I don't leave, I don't speak, I don't flee, I'm not free, I believe, That this happen to my mothers, mother mothers' brother, Brother from another was granite and granted he's valuable but only in a home -- of course I'm quartz in the making A corpse still shaking Cause a wallet was mistaken Or I.D. was misplaced So, I'm on the rocks since the bar says that I'm a criminal, velvet rope divider marks my life and a vigil, a wake, or a hashtag, you choose, glass house, Cold Stone’s, rocky road, Medusa licks his finger tips same finger which petrified me in the first place, Reminded I'm in Rome as I'm standing there motionless a statue for display or a trophy for the kitchen, this art is not for sale there will be no shipping, With solidarity through our solidification, It won't matter if I look back, I Matter and I’m Black.
Continue reading...
84
I can't deny it anymore. I am in love with you. I didn't fall mind you. I chose this. I chose you. And I can't help but feel that I have chosen wrong. That I have chosen too soon. And it didn't help that you chose me as your beta. As your apprentice. As your most trusted photographer. Didn't help that you nursed all of my fangirl tendencies. Didn't help that you claimed to be my alpha, my coach, my captain. Didn't help that you made me feel like it is just the two of us in the pack. Didn't help that you verbalized my feelings and told me there is only us in the crew. That I am your first mate. The co-captain of a ship That only the two of us can set sail. The only thing is... I am the only one shipping us. And one day, you'll go canon with someone else. And believe me darling, those canons can sink our ship.
0
Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 10:32 AM UTC
First mate
(sorry, but not sorry) There once was a potato plant, (Because potatoes grow on plants...) This plant harvested baby potatoes. This was no ordinary potato plant, however, It was SPECIAL! Anywho, the plant grew several baby potatoes, Who were harvested and shipped on a crate to a grocery store in a cold, dark shipping truck. The potatoes, they weren't scared! Yah know why? Simple. Because Potatoes don't have FEELINGS! ....but if they did....they'd be scared. Take my word for it. The potatoes arrived at the store and were bagged, ready for purchase. They sat together in a pile for hours, thinking about (but not thinking about) what would happen in the future, why they were in this bag, UNTIL, UNTIL a homeless man (he looked homeless) reached into the bag, pulled out a single spud, and RAN! Out the store, down the street, HE WAS OUTTA THERE! BYE-BYE SUCKERS! Well, on his way to.... wherever he was going, he fell and dropped it. That's what stealing does to yah. It rolled into an abandoned alley, far away from the man's sight. He couldn't stop and look for it, because he was being chased, so he ran away sourly, the potato being left cold and alone, without it's family to be piled up motionlessly beside it. This potato was different. Unlike it's family, it could feel, it could think and understand, even without knowing language at all, it's like the potato just knew everything and anything, without a purpose. And, another thing. This potato, it was hungry. Very hungry. Only hours later (again) A parentless child walked the streets, searching for something to eat. They hadn't eaten in days. Of course, the child found the battered potato on the ground,picked it up and smiled. It was the end of the potatoes life cycle, it seemed. Or...was it? Seconds until the end, seconds until facing the terrifying wrath of the human's sharp, untaimed teeth, seconds until it got to see if there was a potato heaven or not, JUST SECONDS, something changed. The spud; it grew. No, it didn't grow in size, but it did grow a mouth, and arms. And it could scream. Oh God, yes, it could wail like no tomorrow, so, quickly adapting to it's new form; it yelled ****** ****** The child threw it at a wall, screaming and running away. ..... Silence from the potato. Sadly, it could withstand the grasp of a sweaty, homeless dude, it could bare the growing silence from it's siblings, it could even dodge the teeth of a starving ape! But the potato was no match for a wall. Mashed potatoes for dinner it is.
0
Sep 13, 2017
Sep 13, 2017 at 8:54 PM UTC
Potato
(sorry, but not sorry) There once was a potato plant, (Because potatoes grow on plants...) This plant harvested baby potatoes. This was no ordinary potato plant, however, It was SPECIAL! Anywho, the plant grew several baby potatoes, Who were harvested and shipped on a crate to a grocery store in a cold, dark shipping truck. The potatoes, they weren't scared! Yah know why? Simple. Because Potatoes don't have FEELINGS! ....but if they did....they'd be scared. Take my word for it. The potatoes arrived at the store and were bagged, ready for purchase. They sat together in a pile for hours, thinking about (but not thinking about) what would happen in the future, why they were in this bag, UNTIL, UNTIL a homeless man (he looked homeless) reached into the bag, pulled out a single spud, and RAN! Out the store, down the street, HE WAS OUTTA THERE! BYE-BYE SUCKERS! Well, on his way to.... wherever he was going, he fell and dropped it. That's what stealing does to yah. It rolled into an abandoned alley, far away from the man's sight. He couldn't stop and look for it, because he was being chased, so he ran away sourly, the potato being left cold and alone, without it's family to be piled up motionlessly beside it. This potato was different. Unlike it's family, it could feel, it could think and understand, even without knowing language at all, it's like the potato just knew everything and anything, without a purpose. And, another thing. This potato, it was hungry. Very hungry. Only hours later (again) A parentless child walked the streets, searching for something to eat. They hadn't eaten in days. Of course, the child found the battered potato on the ground,picked it up and smiled. It was the end of the potatoes life cycle, it seemed. Or...was it? Seconds until the end, seconds until facing the terrifying wrath of the human's sharp, untaimed teeth, seconds until it got to see if there was a potato heaven or not, JUST SECONDS, something changed. The spud; it grew. No, it didn't grow in size, but it did grow a mouth, and arms. And it could scream. Oh God, yes, it could wail like no tomorrow, so, quickly adapting to it's new form; it yelled ****** ****** The child threw it at a wall, screaming and running away. ..... Silence from the potato. Sadly, it could withstand the grasp of a sweaty, homeless dude, it could bare the growing silence from it's siblings, it could even dodge the teeth of a starving ape! But the potato was no match for a wall. Mashed potatoes for dinner it is.
Continue reading...
31
Shipping is lovely Especially when they ship you To your best friend Whom you secretly love
0
Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 4:03 PM UTC
Friend Ship
Nationality shipping ****** Strategy damage fragments ***** puke ***** fraction Biological ***** disobedience Fannie pictorial laundries ****** manhood caliphate Woodworks Biebers frites ****** vandal’s fakes Utmost openly grim ******* ************ Piled dish cell Discuss **** ****** Jihad imbeciles reincarnation Fear fears America Watching emptiness falling Dinner screaming nonsense Deadly velvet laughs Banality quack leprosy Games flood biting Tv nation ****** Swallowed road poets Animal replied stories Creature’s terminal idea Explodes gloom stare Selling young crack Game scratch ******* Confuse spill scream Genitals China responsibility
0
Aug 6, 2015
Aug 6, 2015 at 7:45 PM UTC
*** Crime.
I'm currently attempting to publish my first poetry novel, Mom and Dad Had The Doctors Sew Our Third Eyes Shut. If any of you have the time and money to donate, I humbly ask you to please donate anything you can, even just a dollar helps! I am self publishing, so I need funds for copyright, printing/binding, processing orders and shipping. if you do donate you can get a free copy of the novel :) thanks guys! the link is found below: https://fundly.com/mom-and-dad-had-the-doctor-sew-our-third-eyes-shut#_
0
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 1:35 PM UTC
please donate
Rebellious youth stay still Drinking until you get your fill Violent youth, angry youth Mom and dad don’t know what to do You are proof, you are the truth You are the reason that your parents fight With home behind him, the future in his hands Free from sin, never to be touched again Let his life finally begin Rebellious youth stay still Drinking until you get your fill Free from sin, never to be touched again Let his life finally begin Rebellious youth stay still You won’t give up no you never will That's it we're shipping you off to Siberia!
0
Mar 7, 2015
Mar 7, 2015 at 6:53 PM UTC
Rebellious Youth
Let the poetry of others repose in majestic halls: My poems are filler for paper shredders, For packing in shipping boxes, And backing for flypaper sticky strips; To wipe the muddy soles of shoes That have seen too much of springtime In the garden. Others poetry fills the airwaves, and sits between the covers of books; My poetry is for grocery lists, And sudden messages you need to scribble while on the telephone, And maps to undiscovered geneological treasures That are only a township away- To trace the faces of cool tombstones Under a mid-day sun. You won't find my poetry near any other kind of list That doesn't say get bleach, dog food, and toilet paper. Still, my poetry is from a well lettered life- I have written all my heartbeats, and most of my sighs Into sibylline hieroglyphics, from midnight initiations In the secret brotherhood, of my own soul: And I will die a freeman, because nobody Will ever feel the need to own any of these words.
0
Mar 29, 2010
Mar 29, 2010 at 12:51 PM UTC
Words of a Freeman
It wasn't my place to tell you; I've been sinking ships since I can remember, Each home washed up on someone else's shore. This was before you wrapped me a lifeboat And said, *"darling, don't wait for the rain to pour, As winds may change and skies may grey But this ships not wrecked, its here to stay"*.
0
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 7:11 AM UTC
Shipping present
Going Off To War (a/k/a Washing The Dishes) When its time to wash the dishes, I make proper preparations for this serious business, I strip down to my skivvies (shorts, in a prior generation) Cause there will plenty blood and gore afore too long Soap and water flying about, the ceilings and the walls, Not to mention big, big puddles on the floor. Multi-colored sponges of sizes varied, Some Brillo-sided, like extra armor on a tank, By Dawn's early light, turn the clear water Into a heaving, breathing soapy concoction. Woebegone and woe betide, dried and sticky maple syrup, You are no match for super-strength orange dishwashing solution, Of the Greeks did praise, a single dollop packs a mighty wallop! Ain't afraid of any stain, decomposing, half chewed, culinary rejection. Don't even bother with rubber gloves, cause that's for sissies. The dirtier the better, cause I love the sounds of All out war, the rushing water, the futile screams of Grease departing this world, down the rabbit hole, My gleaming, victorious sinking of the enemy shipping You think I am the first to celebrate in verse This storied fight of right over dirt? Recall please this famed couplet, for now be known its true inspiration! "Oh, say can you see by the Dawn's early light What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?" Though Men Like to Load the Dishwasher (You Didn't Know?) Is another poem of a similar ilk, when technology is unavailable, It is fact verifiable and unassailable, That if you give a man some room and some privacy, Ignore the shouts and war cries from the kitchen emanating, Male aggression can best be expiated, When playing war games in the kitchen, a live action movie, A video game that never grows tiresome, And violence is necessary, for the enemy's complete annihilation. Thank you my dear, no medal need be awarded, Scored this poem as my just reward.
0
May 26, 2013
May 26, 2013 at 12:23 PM UTC
Men Going Off To War (a/k/a Washing The Dishes)
Going Off To War (a/k/a Washing The Dishes) When its time to wash the dishes, I make proper preparations for this serious business, I strip down to my skivvies (shorts, in a prior generation) Cause there will plenty blood and gore afore too long Soap and water flying about, the ceilings and the walls, Not to mention big, big puddles on the floor. Multi-colored sponges of sizes varied, Some Brillo-sided, like extra armor on a tank, By Dawn's early light, turn the clear water Into a heaving, breathing soapy concoction. Woebegone and woe betide, dried and sticky maple syrup, You are no match for super-strength orange dishwashing solution, Of the Greeks did praise, a single dollop packs a mighty wallop! Ain't afraid of any stain, decomposing, half chewed, culinary rejection. Don't even bother with rubber gloves, cause that's for sissies. The dirtier the better, cause I love the sounds of All out war, the rushing water, the futile screams of Grease departing this world, down the rabbit hole, My gleaming, victorious sinking of the enemy shipping You think I am the first to celebrate in verse This storied fight of right over dirt? Recall please this famed couplet, for now be known its true inspiration! "Oh, say can you see by the Dawn's early light What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?" Though Men Like to Load the Dishwasher (You Didn't Know?) Is another poem of a similar ilk, when technology is unavailable, It is fact verifiable and unassailable, That if you give a man some room and some privacy, Ignore the shouts and war cries from the kitchen emanating, Male aggression can best be expiated, When playing war games in the kitchen, a live action movie, A video game that never grows tiresome, And violence is necessary, for the enemy's complete annihilation. Thank you my dear, no medal need be awarded, Scored this poem as my just reward.
Continue reading...
36
First I wrapped the Belkin cover on my 64GB iPad tight shut with 3M shipping tape then I glued one helium Happy Birthday teflon balloon from CVS Pharmacy on each corner with SuperGlue and took it down to the beach. Kneeling at the tip of the tide I beseeched the gods accept this offering heal my disbelief make my body and soul whole. . . I’ve stopped adding Abilify to my antidepressant and I’m scared to feel the emptiness again. I launched my little ship on the next outgoing surge as a Red Bull can bobbed beside and I closed my eyes in supplication.
0
Apr 3, 2013
Apr 3, 2013 at 6:33 AM UTC
64GB SACRIFICE
Up to the North Down to the South Keep the ships feeding The big Mersey's mouth 14 big docks And 19 big stops Dad's got big hands He works at the 'Brock' He's seen Alexandra And Nelson too He passes the Princes On the way to the 'Loo Jump off at the Sandon For a bevvy with Joe Saturday's half day To the match he will go The merchants at Toxteth Are rubbing their hands There's money in shipping And at Seaforth Sands Jump off at Pier Head If yer wearing a shirt Stay on till Herculaneum To get covered in dirt The EMUs keeping rolling From morning til night Our dockers umbrella What a beautiful sight copyright/all rights reserved Joe Fogg 2011
0
Oct 7, 2011
Oct 7, 2011 at 3:13 PM UTC
Docker's Umbrella
it's embarrassing but it's true. i just googled "how to fall in love". and i googled "how to fall in love" because i am not in love right now and i really, really want to be. my google searchings were inconclusive and i am just as unsatisfied mind, body, and spirit as i was when i started typing "h" into the search bar there is nothing in my heart right now. my mother knocked and no one was home. it makes me anxious: how did i go from someone so overwhelmed by the enormity and ever-presence of her emotions to someone so void of them that i feel an echo in my chest when someone says my name? i've also googled sociopathy, but apparently i'm not one of those. so here i am, somewhere on a sliding scale between all or nothing. and i report from the field that it is not, in fact, all or nothing. i know i'm not alone out here, but it sure does feel like it, when i reach out and even shadows don't reach back. it's not like i've already accepted dying alone but it's not looking likely that i'll be marrying my college sweetheart, either. i just want my feelings back. is there a link to that in the first page of google results? i'll even pay for shipping, i guess.
0
Nov 19, 2017
Nov 19, 2017 at 7:05 PM UTC
not bing
She looked at him with blue eyes of silken seas Across the table a hand on his, intimately. The gaze was a lovers gaze, fixed on each other Both laughing and she had a perfect smile that all could see. He courted her until their marriage day. Her father dreaded giving her away. She kept the house neat and gave birth to a son. The perfect couple, everyone would say. Work got hard, and his job was being given away. They were shipping it to India, as they do these days. He started drinking to ease the pain of not being able to pay all the bills. She started feeling ignored and started taking prescription pills. Every day they would remember the days when no worries existed. They forgot to live in the moment and be grateful, slowly aging. Life never stood still and it never will. This "perfect couple" now argued and fought, sometimes raging. It was never their dream for him to be unemployed. They should have been overcome with their son's joy. It wasn't meant for them to stay together through all of their strife. Just as they became married, no longer were they man and wife. She looked across the table at me through creased, aged eyes. I looked back at her with my sweetest smile. My mother reached across the table and grabbed my hand. Now as I hear her story, I can finally understand.
0
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 11:39 AM UTC
PERFECT COUPLE**
Online deals are the best distraction for the leaky feeling in my chest. Every click wipes a drip. A shopping cart comprised of sale items, the pair of oddly patterned socks, suspenders no one will ever wear, men's sweater in an extra-small, an obscure band shirt- all unwanted sitting in a 20 dollar cart. I want them. 5 more dollars and it's free shipping. Throw in unpopular shades of makeup and a friendship bracelet. Looking forward to the delivery man. So involved in the next best sale- the pain of neglect is removed with mail. **i am in the clearance section- waiting to be reconsidered my emotions are overstock- please pick one up half-off.** Sometimes I never complete my purchase. Imaginary carts of imaginary feelings. Dump them away and forget their existence. Someone else might see their worth and make me wish I bought them first. Rainy day a broken package. my leaky heart drenched in mud **wash me don't leave me don't forget me in the mailbox by the door.** Only 5 bucks. **don't return me to the store.** It was free shipping. **i promise i can be more** Fine, I'll take it. Months of dust. **i am sitting in the drawer, wondering why you even bought me. just because i was on sale- now you never look my way.** Off to goodwill. Consumer's guilty pill.
0
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 11:20 PM UTC
Retail Therapy
i don't remember exactly when my hips came in but trust me, it was a lot like free overnight shipping that brought bigger pants stretch marks galore and the legs to go with them suddenly i looked like a woman and i didn't quite know what to do with that
0
Dec 3, 2017
Dec 3, 2017 at 10:22 PM UTC
becoming
I'd marry you tomorrow. I'm not even kidding. Like if you said, "Let's go. Let's do this," I would be 100% down. We haven't known each other very long, six months-ish. We haven't explored each other like a ship sailing every nook and cranny of every ocean and sea, but I've seen enough. You are the best thing that isn't even mine. And in time, I hope to make that statement a lie. I want you to be the best thing that is mine. And I, want to be the best thing that is yours. I think we're on our way, even without a perfect, smooth sailing. So, you could say I'm shipping us, a one-true-pair. We'd go up the ark together, and I think Noah would agree, two-by-two, you and I would be the two that he'd expect to see pairing up. I'd marry you tomorrow. I'm not even kidding. Like if you said, "Let's go. Let's do this," I would be 100% down.
0
Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 1:00 PM UTC
I'd Marry You Tomorrow
That's a beautiful dress. It arrived on time. Thank you very much. I bought this dress for my upcoming prom. i was nervous about buying online, because I had no idea what the quality would be like. I was pleasently surprised when it arrived. Not only was the quality of the fabric beautiful, but the overall quality of the dress was great as well.? The quality of the dress is unbelieveable it is a beautiful dress. If your big busted its a little tight, but its so nice on. I LOVE IT!!!! Cant wait to order something else. M y mother has bought so many things from dresswe and everything has been easy to order and get and everything is of quality. THANKS so much!!!! I ordered my dress custom made in early April. The current delivery time was advertising "4 weeks" and it actually took 6 with a bit of hassling & stressing through emails. I ordered this dress for my 21st birthday party. When it finally arrived it was definitely impressed. A beautiful dress with such an elegant cut. I was really impressed and felt like a princess on my special night! I thank you for providing me such a beautiful dress! The color is just to die for The most beautiful dress I've ever worn! Going to be wearing this to my engagement party, I've never been so happy with a purchase in my entire life! Really well made with lovely material, and sizing is correct, although had to have it altered slightly around the bust as the padded cups made it look odd on me, but nothing a little sewing couldn't fix. Can’t recommend this dress enough, feel like a million dollars in it! Shipping is also ridiculously fast, I live in the UK and had it custom made. So happy with this dress, everything I wanted and more! I received my dress and when I put it on, it fit me perfectly and looked good on. The design and material are just as the picture shows. Good quality and I am very pleased. Customer service was great and it was delivered on the day that I requested. I highly recommend marieaustralia for formal dresses .Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-melbourne | www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-2015
0
Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 12:27 AM UTC
That's a beautiful dress. It arrived on time. Thank you very much.
That's a beautiful dress. It arrived on time. Thank you very much. I bought this dress for my upcoming prom. i was nervous about buying online, because I had no idea what the quality would be like. I was pleasently surprised when it arrived. Not only was the quality of the fabric beautiful, but the overall quality of the dress was great as well.? The quality of the dress is unbelieveable it is a beautiful dress. If your big busted its a little tight, but its so nice on. I LOVE IT!!!! Cant wait to order something else. M y mother has bought so many things from dresswe and everything has been easy to order and get and everything is of quality. THANKS so much!!!! I ordered my dress custom made in early April. The current delivery time was advertising "4 weeks" and it actually took 6 with a bit of hassling & stressing through emails. I ordered this dress for my 21st birthday party. When it finally arrived it was definitely impressed. A beautiful dress with such an elegant cut. I was really impressed and felt like a princess on my special night! I thank you for providing me such a beautiful dress! The color is just to die for The most beautiful dress I've ever worn! Going to be wearing this to my engagement party, I've never been so happy with a purchase in my entire life! Really well made with lovely material, and sizing is correct, although had to have it altered slightly around the bust as the padded cups made it look odd on me, but nothing a little sewing couldn't fix. Can’t recommend this dress enough, feel like a million dollars in it! Shipping is also ridiculously fast, I live in the UK and had it custom made. So happy with this dress, everything I wanted and more! I received my dress and when I put it on, it fit me perfectly and looked good on. The design and material are just as the picture shows. Good quality and I am very pleased. Customer service was great and it was delivered on the day that I requested. I highly recommend marieaustralia for formal dresses .Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-melbourne | www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-2015
Continue reading...
6
The Queen of Absentia rises from royal stool to watch the moon set sheathed in broiling cloud as she skips whirling adders that hiss in fat jagged coils, their hollow blades jutting death in sprinkler sprays of misting veils and her head is hypethral; a Gaudi shipping container soldered in reptile curves, licked by arrowheads of falcate flame as she rounds its laughing corners; an adderaled lab rat, eyes black funnels drinking electrodes pulsing crimson and the stars are crackling in the pan as she     sees planets torn shrieking down Hell’s hungry plughole as fallen Gods divide by zero and the clock’s skittering claws scratch prophecies of consequence of poorly sewn seams, but she smiles like a risen crocodile and says,      ‘you’re just jealous cos the              voices only talk to me.’ And again she dives as unwanted advice gibbers up out snapping drains, and power points shoot sharp blue spears lighting substrates of ancient horror, inchoate but fattening before her eyes as she sits, wrapped in ghosts, guarding her ochre tea in its chalice of steaming bone, trying to sell herself a ticket to tomorrow’s sunrise, staring at thunderheads bunching up satin over sodden ninjas sprouting cardboard hair, slicing down legions of roaring pearl as death hunts hollow-eyed below. Her Majesty holds court, amid the percussion of steel and plate, a matador to shadows that clasp their hands and dance around, as clouds hammer rain to the ground.
0
Jul 23, 2012
Jul 23, 2012 at 6:44 PM UTC
The Queen of Absentia
The Queen of Absentia rises from royal stool to watch the moon set sheathed in broiling cloud as she skips whirling adders that hiss in fat jagged coils, their hollow blades jutting death in sprinkler sprays of misting veils and her head is hypethral; a Gaudi shipping container soldered in reptile curves, licked by arrowheads of falcate flame as she rounds its laughing corners; an adderaled lab rat, eyes black funnels drinking electrodes pulsing crimson and the stars are crackling in the pan as she     sees planets torn shrieking down Hell’s hungry plughole as fallen Gods divide by zero and the clock’s skittering claws scratch prophecies of consequence of poorly sewn seams, but she smiles like a risen crocodile and says,      ‘you’re just jealous cos the              voices only talk to me.’ And again she dives as unwanted advice gibbers up out snapping drains, and power points shoot sharp blue spears lighting substrates of ancient horror, inchoate but fattening before her eyes as she sits, wrapped in ghosts, guarding her ochre tea in its chalice of steaming bone, trying to sell herself a ticket to tomorrow’s sunrise, staring at thunderheads bunching up satin over sodden ninjas sprouting cardboard hair, slicing down legions of roaring pearl as death hunts hollow-eyed below. Her Majesty holds court, amid the percussion of steel and plate, a matador to shadows that clasp their hands and dance around, as clouds hammer rain to the ground.
Continue reading...
37
If heaven wasn't so far away     If I could drive there in just one day       I'd pack my car and get there fast          Or fly there with a rocket blast       Thank my God for hearing this plea      And for letting your eternal soul go free               I'd fight a thousand armies                 to a win a raging war        Or paddle against the currents                      with just a canoe                    if I only had one oar                 Defending all your beauty            and the light you gave us here                  I am not too far,               my heart is always near           I'd walk a thousand miles                just in my barest feet Or hire a passing, ghostly shipping fleet    and watch the troops of demons to their               grievous quick retreat     I would walk through the hottest fires            of a crazy burning hell     Or surf the oceans fastest, highest                   waiter, water swell          I'd slingshot through the stars              Or float up  on a bardge            Just  ask the Man in Charge                   I'm' waiting for the call                   to bring you home again                   I'm waiting here for you                    back here ...                     back in                    your earthly Glen. Cherie Nolan © June 2016
0
Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 8:49 PM UTC
"If Heaven Wasn't So Far Away"
If heaven wasn't so far away     If I could drive there in just one day       I'd pack my car and get there fast          Or fly there with a rocket blast       Thank my God for hearing this plea      And for letting your eternal soul go free               I'd fight a thousand armies                 to a win a raging war        Or paddle against the currents                      with just a canoe                    if I only had one oar                 Defending all your beauty            and the light you gave us here                  I am not too far,               my heart is always near           I'd walk a thousand miles                just in my barest feet Or hire a passing, ghostly shipping fleet    and watch the troops of demons to their               grievous quick retreat     I would walk through the hottest fires            of a crazy burning hell     Or surf the oceans fastest, highest                   waiter, water swell          I'd slingshot through the stars              Or float up  on a bardge            Just  ask the Man in Charge                   I'm' waiting for the call                   to bring you home again                   I'm waiting here for you                    back here ...                     back in                    your earthly Glen. Cherie Nolan © June 2016
Continue reading...
34
You don't ship it like I do In my spare time (all the time) Instead of paying attention. You're not as much of a fan as I am You say I'm obsessed I call it infatuation. You can't fill the hole in yourself Without a ship but you'd rather not So you can shy away from shipping I'm on a ******* yacht. You don't understand the calling Which is, basically, at this point, normality And thus, I have no need for you Go be a carbon copy. But I will sail! I will go down with this ship! **** tumblr to hell For spoiling my **** But sail, I will, even still. Oh, in my battleship I'll rip your OTP! My ship is stronger My ship is closer to canon in reality! So yes, your pairing, I will shred, I'll rip.
0
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 1:17 AM UTC
Ship It Like I Do
thin. paper thin. here is a bonus. (or is it bogus?) the order of release. the order of dead pages gliding in the wind. advertisements for adopting a lonely asteroid or building fire extinguishers in your spare time. the rain of acceptance comes with dark clouds of shipping and handling. just check the appropriate box and send it in. send it in now!
0
Aug 7, 2023
Aug 7, 2023 at 12:36 PM UTC
Subscription Cards That Fall Out of Magazines
He shakes his bones around And wears them overhead like flags By night he stalks through shipping yards, Amusement parks by day, In time with all the parts he's stolen, He will build a mausoleum Seal himself inside just to Emerge when moonlight fades from view And night is darker than blindness He stumbles in an out His brains are full of fire He tastes the morning sun And falls aghast with pleasure. He stands and brushes off The filth and turbulence. He barks into a mask His sweat sustains him He presses pennies through Your skin and seals them Inside their package there Where you can feel them He laughs indifferently He cries with pleasure Ignites the tablecloth And folds it twice He slips ideas into The money boxes He hears the rain upstairs: What? What's that? That's a fat cat! That's a fine hat hat hat hat hat... He calls his mystery Out through the sunlight The birds don't ask him why, But spread the message He stings on either side Whoever watches He wets his hands and sets his watch He waits with pleasure He gathers firewood In stacks that tower And when they tumble down He loses power The skies break down their door, Ask him to wonder Does he belong up there? He knows the answer. The skies defend themselves They rain and thunder They pelt him down with flames And tear asunder A hundred artifacts Beneath his bootsteps He grasps at them in fear And dives on after Into the tunnel here Where others like him stay Paved into the ceiling He hears the clattering On down the way He chases after echoes Trips over shadows He loses himself He loses himself with pleasure He comments on himself So no one else can He's overweight and he Could use a sun tan He waits for you to leave Before he'll follow He feels inside his skull And thinks it's hollow He hears his name and he Takes flight at noon so he Can make it back again Before the moon He single-handedly Gives up our secrets To any spy who'll pay A healthy ransom He's spoken innocence and He's spoken nonsense He comes to me each night Proposing new games I've never played before And always feared He cannot calmly state but scream His shopping list He tries to change his name He's on top of his life Cos he's the only one The only one who lives it Nobody will do it for him Nobody will do it for him
0
Jan 22, 2011
Jan 22, 2011 at 8:19 PM UTC
He Loses Himself
He shakes his bones around And wears them overhead like flags By night he stalks through shipping yards, Amusement parks by day, In time with all the parts he's stolen, He will build a mausoleum Seal himself inside just to Emerge when moonlight fades from view And night is darker than blindness He stumbles in an out His brains are full of fire He tastes the morning sun And falls aghast with pleasure. He stands and brushes off The filth and turbulence. He barks into a mask His sweat sustains him He presses pennies through Your skin and seals them Inside their package there Where you can feel them He laughs indifferently He cries with pleasure Ignites the tablecloth And folds it twice He slips ideas into The money boxes He hears the rain upstairs: What? What's that? That's a fat cat! That's a fine hat hat hat hat hat... He calls his mystery Out through the sunlight The birds don't ask him why, But spread the message He stings on either side Whoever watches He wets his hands and sets his watch He waits with pleasure He gathers firewood In stacks that tower And when they tumble down He loses power The skies break down their door, Ask him to wonder Does he belong up there? He knows the answer. The skies defend themselves They rain and thunder They pelt him down with flames And tear asunder A hundred artifacts Beneath his bootsteps He grasps at them in fear And dives on after Into the tunnel here Where others like him stay Paved into the ceiling He hears the clattering On down the way He chases after echoes Trips over shadows He loses himself He loses himself with pleasure He comments on himself So no one else can He's overweight and he Could use a sun tan He waits for you to leave Before he'll follow He feels inside his skull And thinks it's hollow He hears his name and he Takes flight at noon so he Can make it back again Before the moon He single-handedly Gives up our secrets To any spy who'll pay A healthy ransom He's spoken innocence and He's spoken nonsense He comes to me each night Proposing new games I've never played before And always feared He cannot calmly state but scream His shopping list He tries to change his name He's on top of his life Cos he's the only one The only one who lives it Nobody will do it for him Nobody will do it for him
Continue reading...
92