"spi" poems
We’re the salty dogs of mo-der-ni-ty,
Robot starfish programmed so expertly
(And we’d like to state most em-phat-ic-ly
There’s no cannibalism in the Royal Navy.)
As we sail the blue waters virtually,
There’s a thigh for you and a femur for me
(Just a wee little joke, as you can plainly see;
There’s no cannibalism in the Royal Navy.)
We sing along to Yanni and John Tesh
Though we’d prefer to have them in the flesh
(It’s their haunting tunes we find quite tasty;
There’s no cannibalism in the Royal Navy.)
We serve the nation and prove our worth,
Map the sewers of Brixton, gnaw on Colin Firth
(He treads the boards in-spi-ray-shun-ly;
There’s no cannibalism in the Royal Navy.)
When our duty’s done and the day is through
We have a most proper naval bar-be-cue
(Though we replace officers most fre-quent-ly
There’s no cannibalism in the Royal Navy.)
Oct 3, 2017
Oct 3, 2017 at 7:39 PM UTC
In company sedated under someone else's skin
I try to find the door through which my body wandered in
There won't be any roaming for my shadow left to do
I've seen what I created in a mirror made of you
It's here I know my spirit has been broken many times
Competing with the vessels that are present in my mind
We take our own emotions and expose them to our thoughts
Make everything indifferent to the cause of all the rot
I'm very much aware of where the balances are off
But choose to put aside the very things at which I scoff
There's no one in existence who can comprehend the fight
The battles that we face when we shut out the source of light
It's somewhere on the outskirts of the darkness we explore
Where demons turn to people who are swallowed up in war
The prisoners and fighters were once friends until they spoke
Of massacres they plotted that caused one of them to choke
I'm not here to admire those who pass away to shake
The core of who I am because they couldn't stay awake
Such ****** in the hearts of those who want to have it all
I tried to comprehend it but their pride is just a wall
Forgive them in the name of every power that they seek
'Cause even they will bow to simple truths they cannot speak
Dec 8, 2015
Dec 8, 2015 at 11:35 PM UTC
Didd it,
with a tip of my five hundreth hat:
Dance in the afterwords, wondering if we
were we
the ones who swallowed hole and fell
on
hard times, past
emptied heart and mind of worthship
appraised unworthy of mention
compared to the stars on TV.
Hey, see.
Written on Grandma's wall.
A sign for those who read,
then the written declaration appeared
on a tapestry from QVC
Home, home at last,
Each heart is singing
Home, home at last.
And above the festive table as on a scroll
dis plays plentiy fructifity of ludis-hermes
Live Love Laugh
And tell the tale of the times
that came and went as all times do
this too, shall pass.
Dec 7, 2021
Dec 7, 2021 at 9:36 PM UTC