"stow" poems
Human directives, veracities unverified
Bellies belching with anger, murderers
Udders dripping hate, foundling banters
Hunters striking the hungered, unfortunate
Glare sight to seek the truth, hold me lets sink
Tear motions and debates of inequality
My Dafur, the realm of the fur, demise
All armed in Sudan, the arid, a battlefield
Emergency alarms sirens from 2003
The indefinite complications and hunger
A land of the displaced, starving nomads
Hear me out in these non-dissolving conflicts
Guantanamo bay detention a prison vicious
A base for “war in terrorism”, reciprocal laws
Inhumane human interrogations persists
A breach, a revolt, the hunger riots devolve
Force-feeding, torturous measures applied
All undressed, humiliated, genitalia exposed
A Rwanda slain in divide and rule
Civil clashes, mashes, all trashed
Swaying war rapes, tapes, the raves
Machetes slashing necks and hands
A lust of power, a genocide slaughter
The Tutsi slewed and unsewn from a patch
Autocratic regime boring divisions
Territorial ethnic cleansing, a holocaust
The oppression of Jews, Romanis, Poles
Homosexuals, the disabled and mentally ill
Indifference pooled in pits and camps
The institutional social indoctrination
The honor and killing to expose shame
The violation and dishonor of moral fabric
For what is “good”, “bad”, fixated moral values
Buried waists and head, awaiting stones to hit
Confessional secrets of only what lays within
A torment watching witnesses, all dangling
Marxists calls ships to stow ashore
Masses kidnapped, confused in deceit
Invalid contracts awaits signatures
The white immigrants to be enslaved
All aboard, now abroad to revolve labor
Wage packages taken to pay for freedom
Humans bought and sold to be owned
Slaves yorked and counted as assets
Bounded to serve plantations and homes
A human, non human, a chattel, a slave
A debt ******* offended and *****
Untamed and made to obey a master
A falling global strings unturned
Tunes strumming hate, war and pain
Human trafficking, violence, inequality
Child abuse, civil conflicts, capitalists
Commercialism, zero hour contracts
For if we have no rights, I have none
For if we have no peace I have none
Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 6:54 AM UTC
my steps are just attempts
to stow away
on the sails, on future's mast
as I walk away,
leaving behind the trail
of my unsuccessful past...
Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 8:10 PM UTC
Storage for things I need but not right now.
Can I put my love there?
It's something I will not put away forever.
I'm proud of the mistakes I've made and the glory of love I've lived and died with.
But there's a time to carry my love with me--right next to me--
And a time to store it in the overhead cabin.
I'm a function of 21st Century pragmatism:
Where you don't have to put love away,
you can travel with it.
As your carry-on.
And as I make this decision
to stow my love away
Three feet above my head
I know one day
someday
My love will be sitting right next to me
as we take to the skies.
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 2:39 PM UTC
someone out in cyber-land
might just be
copying a poem which they'll
attribute to their own tee
unscrupulous replicators
have no qualms
on flagrantly stealing the lines
from genuine arms
when they take a fancy
to your brilliance of verse
they'll naff off with all or part of it
and stow it within their purse
piracy is rife around
online writing dales and dells
it's the pilfering of an authentic
author's heart and soul bells
they say that imitation
is the sincerest form of flattery
but an alternate opinion
would say plagiarists are bereft
of an original wordage battery
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 8:15 PM UTC
*I am the hermit who lives in my head.
I gather...
I analyse...
I stow away all that I've learnt.*
Because when the wind would blow
and the earth wouldn't understand.
When the world would tremble,
shaken by man's ruthless hand.
*I am the hermit who lives in my head.
I listen...
I keep...
I stockpile in the shadows.*
Because in my blood exists grudge...
And my bones, weary from despair.
My skin screams exhaustion
and my body feigns to care.
*I am the hermit who lives in my head.
I overthink...
I hide...
I hoard all my thoughts.*
Because the walls have ears
and these pages bear eyes.
What my heart truly knows...
Is that your mouth tells only lies.
Aug 8, 2016
Aug 8, 2016 at 10:14 AM UTC
different strokes for different folks
different stacks for different smoke
and the words that you blow,
you never know who it can stow
when you think you lost all hope
look outside in disguise
and see behind someone else eyes
different stroked for diff rent folks and the smoke that you blow
fills up your chest, with words you repressed.
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 11:26 AM UTC
.
/ / / / / / /
/ / // / / / /
/ / / / / / / / /
// / / •• / / / /
/ / / ••• / / /
/ / •lift me up over- / /
/ / head•for i only seek to shelter / //
you•from the sun who'd scorch you red /
**•from monsoon rains that'll chill you blue•you
may at times think i'm cumbersome to carry•when
the winds of change put you in all kinds of weather•
but i can collapse and fold... i stow away easy•keep me
close and i will spring to your aid... whenever, wherever•
such is my pro- •• mise to... you•
• • • •• • • •
for
yo-
ur
lif-
e's
un-
pr-
edi-
••• cta-
••• ble
journey•**
soon you'll find my words to be true•
that i'd forever be your brolly•
Dec 5, 2015
Dec 5, 2015 at 12:02 PM UTC
When Dagobert adorned Franco caves,
Clovis iniquity built a realm portentous?
Ate fruit from olden, -licentious ways…
Portentous realm thus be-stow-ed,
No king in truth but a nave?
Nave only to a Catholic po-et.
Hearken crier old kingdom days,
Oh Franco brave!
Oh Franco brave!
Oh Franco brave!
Oh Franco brave!
In regret of Dagobert's disturb-ed grave.
Dec 24, 2016
Dec 24, 2016 at 3:17 PM UTC
Pretentious smile
There for awhile
Cunning and guile
Mask the bile.
Feel the burn
Tides turn
Emotions churn
Pain we learn.
Turn the key
Unlock me
Set free
But with fee.
Claim your claim
Always the same
Mutilate, maim
Ruthless game.
Games you play
Daggers you say
Honesty you slay
The facade you stay.
Whisper your lie
Get me by
Truth will try
Chains to pry.
Curb your greed
Untruths you feed
Here I bleed
From destruction you lead.
What's your goal
**** my soul?
My naïveté you stole
You're but a mole.
Share my plight
And in plain sight
Steal my light
You're my fight.
I know it was you
Excruciatingly true
Things you undo
For attention you pursue.
Oh how you bend
Honeyed words you lend
Establish your brand
As my deceitful friend
Now I know
Wiser I grow
I will not show
Knowledge I stow
Still you smile
You have for awhile
I've tasted the bile
So bitter, so vile.
I've felt the burn
The tide will turn
Fairness I might earn
Lesson I'll learn.
Jul 29, 2014
Jul 29, 2014 at 9:54 PM UTC
651
So much Summer
Me for showing
Illegitimate—
Would a Smile’s minute bestowing
Too exorbitant
To the Lady
With the Guinea
Look—if She should know
Crumb of Mine
A Robin’s Larder
Would suffice to stow—
2.1k
Everything's frozen in sweet repose,
intensity buried beneath the snows.
I freeze the silent scream and
although it longs to be free,
I stow the key deep inside.
I suppose that scream might grow
and rise against the tranquil cold,
if it were not so utterly frozen
below the surface of my soul.
The ice blanket wrapped close
slows the cogs and gears,
replacing the clicks and snaps
with smooth rolls and flows.
All machinery calmed, movement removed.
It is much too cold to complain
with my mind reduced to a gelatinous ooze.
Everything's frozen in sweet repose,
freeze the highs, bury the lows.
Aug 26, 2011
Aug 26, 2011 at 1:49 AM UTC
The man across from me shoves hot dog buns into his gullet rapid fire
The world speeds by and light streaks across the window
It smells like kindergarten children and popcorn
His pants are rolled up high
Sure signs that the flood will be rising soon
Shuffling his feet towards me brushing my foot
This physical contact appears to be entirely intentional
He holds his bag like there's something secret inside
He shifts uneasy
Hands fumbling to stow away the hot dog buns
Siffling slightly
He has long well manicured nails
He looks out the window to avoid eye contact
My stop arrives and I leave taking his impression with me
May 2, 2015
May 2, 2015 at 10:42 AM UTC
Don't worry, I'll keep you right here in my little box for safekeeping.
I'll stow you away in my secret hiding place deep in my mind and never take you out until I know it's safe.
You are my little marionette, your strings taught and wary from overuse.
The wood you are made from chipped and abused.
Don't worry, I'll keep you right here in my little box for safekeeping.
You are afraid of the monsters outside, creeping, but I will protect you.
I am brave.
I will defend you from the evil that surrounds everyone and everything and I will keep you safe.
Your little marionette arms hanging by your sides, already prepared for the heartbreak of rejection.
Don't worry, I'll keep you right here in my little box for safekeeping.
You'll never be able to run away because I control your strings.
The strings you could never use to walk on your own.
The strings, only I know how to employ. My fingers toiling with the knots. You are bruised.
Don't worry, I'll keep you right here in my little box for safekeeping.
I swear I will never stray.
This promise will be engrained on my mind, sewn on my heart and tattooed on my fingertips.
You are mine and I will never let you go. Never.
You are mine and I will never let you go. Never.
Jul 30, 2011
Jul 30, 2011 at 2:42 PM UTC
They come uninvited to our shores
frightening the lovers of the sun and sand.
The water is now a blue, wet poison.
There is no bottle with a skeleton label
only the shadow of fish as huge as ocean liners
trying to stow away passengers in a dark hole.
Like African slaves we go unwillingly to the unknown land.
There is no time to prepare for this death, this injury.
Screams are heard and not heard like distant echoes on a
mountain in Switzerland. "Stop! Stop! Stop!"
Yells slope down to the distance like heavy iron anchors.
This creature does not speak English,
Italian, Swahili or.....
It only knows the taste of blood. It wears hatred around his
neck with the faces of victims close to his teeth. It is savage this
thing, this monster, this bully.
Where did it learn to hate
then eat what it hates?
Did a God really create this wet Frankenstein?
I think it created itself.
It grew heavy with the impurities of never loving, giving, serving or
blessing other~.
My God! it does not prey before eating it's favorite morsel~
man.
Jul 19, 2012
Jul 19, 2012 at 11:15 AM UTC
Advice on falling in love with an assault survivor
The first time you look at them
They will do one of two things.
They will either not look you in the eye
Out of fear that your passion will burn them
After all,
The last time another's eye stared through their paper skin
They caught on fire.
Or this person may stare straight back into your pupil
As though they are staring death straight in the face
There is no in between with a survivor
They will either move too fast or not at all
But their trust is the petal of a daisy in the desert
Withered and delicate as you touch them for the first time
You cannot expect warmth from something so broken
For survivors train themselves to ignore the ghost in their heads
But that demon will always show up
And when they finally let you undress them
You undress their monster as well
As you remove articles of clothing
Their body begins to freeze over
And the spirit they could once hide and stow away
Is now at the forefront of everything.
They train themselves to have *** with the lights off
Because should a fleck of brightness reveal an eye
A nose
A mouth
The face of their abuser will fill in the rest
They do not want you to see their body
For the scars leave train tracks of the places they've been
Crawling in fields of thorns
Wrapping themselves in knives
Swallowing perceived sanity in the form of a pill
They will not always be okay
Because in their mind they are constantly at war
With an enemy ship that retreated long ago.
To everyone around them, they are a martyr
They have won the battle
But in their mind
They are a fallen soldier
Who can't stop hearing their own gunshots fire
Into the chest of their opponent.
Falling in love with an assault survivor
Is agreeing to watch parts of them
Go up in flames
Over and over again
And picking up the ashes they leave behind.
Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 8:29 PM UTC
stealing other poet's poems
is so rampant and rife
looters will attest to the works
being of their original life
with a swag of online poetry sites
used by plagiarists plundering
no poet's heart and soul efforts
are dismissed from the sundering
pilfers of verse ever busy themselves
they're such industrious thieving elves
should they take a fond liking
for what you've written
they'll stow your wonderful lines
in a crook's mitten
copyright and true possession
of materials you've produced
get no attention from they who've
a penchant for something re-produced
under our radar they
do the wicked deed
could be said they are
so unethical of creed
Feb 21, 2017
Feb 21, 2017 at 7:05 PM UTC
Once Upon a Time
Many years ago I trod lightly through the woods
Being careful not to crush the undergrowth with my feet;
Gently, pushing aside impediments to my progress
So as not to crush or bruise the soft, green foliage.
In those days to make a noise was dangerous.
So I trod quietly too.
Many years ago I carried on my back a pack
To stow essentials for my life: three days' food, ammunition,
A hootchy and water; were then thought sufficient for one’s needs.
On my waist I carried a compass, more water and hand-grenades.
In those days we used books to escape the woods.
So I carried one of those too.
But the essentials they weighed heavy on my back.
They hurt and made me clumsy, introvert,
Looking in instead of out which was dangerous.
So I lightened the load. Of course that was against the rules
But how else was I supposed to live?
I got rid of some food, the water from my pack,
But not the book. I kept the book.
And the hand-grenades.
Mar 1, 2019
Mar 1, 2019 at 4:57 PM UTC
From dust we come to dust shall we return
Ain't nowhere to hide ,nowhere to run.
Decades spent in building a whole human.
Only to disintegrate into grains of sand a million.
The ******* Waters of the ocean confined
By the intertwined fibers of the tissue fine.
Now Running amock like a colt in a meadow
With a beastlike agile motion
Yet finding its way back to the ocean.
Alas! Its Time to pay back the loan shark
The energy you borrowed from the universe so dark.
Like a quintessential burglar with some nerve.
You pilfer an ounce of that magical verve
To stow it away into memories of the sapiens by whom you were loved.
And To your ideals shall they endeavor to serve.
Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 5:14 AM UTC
I lay here open
Open to possibilities and opportunities that present themselves for me with you
But i Can't seem to break through this wall I have put up
A wall made jus for me to protect and keep me from harmful situations
Many contemplations about how am I gonna get through this again
So I kept building and building on my personal wall
Yeah see I built this wall with pain over and over and over
A lil dab of betrayal
A pinch of some scorn
Oh and shovel full of layers of scar tissue covered with stitches for recovery
Yeah I built this wall meticulously
I would sometimes feel like I'm a guest
Sometimes like an outsider in my own skin
Moving along like a night rider
Nobody seeing me or believing me
So I carry some heavy footgear
Holding them in my rear stow away I use it to move along through life without any scars, or that's what I try to do
This footgear feels great because I can stomp, jump, and even do cartwheels over all my enemies
Ancient conviction
Shindy misleadings all leading up to my success
Leaving me blessed
Riding along this pack train saying hello mufasa and simba
Oh and rifiki is there
What's up....
See I admire their strength and agility
I even know who continues to keep me
A higher power and His name is Jesus
Love Him to pieces
But someone came outta nowhere
Out From left field Try to catch the Foul ball
Jumping over bases and even some left field men
Trying to Break through my wall
Shining some light on my night rider journey
Complicated feelings taking many meanings
My head is spinning
Fear rising...leaving me paralyzed even though I still feel your touch when I'm away from you
I'm scared...even some what terrified that I lie here and all I can think of is you
Wondering if my brain waves can send out a signal over to you so that you know how I feel
See night riders they don't open up
Staying closed
Sign on the door...
No more customers...the day is over
See We ride in the dark
Trying to keep feelings secret
A loner when it comes to sharing emotions
Commotion on the inside but calm on the outside
But maybe you can be my knight in shinning amour breaking down my walls
Chipping and chipping away through all the dust and the rumble
I may even stumble over you but at least I'll be in your arms
Feeling safe through your touch that even peels away some of the hurt
So right now I may be a night rider but I'm moving towards the horizon that is the beginning of some light
May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 4:57 PM UTC
Light steps sound from the basement stairs.
A case of home brewed liquor in his father’s hands.
Bizarre, cancerous bulges from cap to bottom.
Plastic explosives from corrosive neglect from stow-away rooms
in white neighborhoods.
His father with a bronze idea, all of them with a destructive mind
A twenty-two saloon rifle bottled up too,
like a maniac gone off his reds and blues,
ready to fire out
with remorseless recoil.
High octane, high explosive, high art.
Cartridge clicks into the chamber.
Son like father, his aim is true.
Like twelve year olds with cherry bombs
we blast a hole right through.
******* boom! Rancid swill rain
staining the biting bright snow
Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 12:42 AM UTC
Your lips taste like regret,
& stale cigarettes
Nevertheless;
You make me fly through space
right up in
my rocketship
Its celestial,
so ponder this
Always stuck inside
your head and s h i t
While these memories,
they eat at me
four walls,
my only scenery
I drink just to not feel things
Or contemplate the dark and strange
Is this insanity?
Deranged, I'm glued to my seat
stuck on repeat
& lacking in mental clarity
Poor D i c k just lost his family;
Her heart, it hasn't skipped a beat
Its on her sleeve and honestly
I swear she'll be the death of me
I'll never show the pain that grows
but stow away these mental notes
til one day my mindscape's exposed,
& explodes
As my brains leak out my ears
most infinitely, no?
Yes I'm depresso I must confess oh
Double barrel shot in my espresso
Can't express though
I wear a mask so
You'll never know when I'm upset
Overlords, gimme simulation reset
Situations got me already
steady hot & heavy
Cos I be boiling in my skin
You see this boi is your kin
But a toy in the bin
For you to discard
When you find it most convenient
And I mean it;
Please disregard the "bars" I spit
I still think your aesthetic's lit
A succubus with fetishes
Of draining me, til nothings left
And after all the time I spent
Prolonging an inevitable end
I'll say the means were justified,
Even if it was really just pretend
I only hope its unreal
A living nightmare, u feel
Every waking moment, lonely
And you can't sleep at night
without choking
So button it
Just shut it b i t c h
I care not for the words unsaid
in a casket's where I made my bed
One foot in the grave
and I'm better off dead
Oct 8, 2018
Oct 8, 2018 at 2:48 PM UTC
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Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 1:17 PM UTC
Inside
things I don't want to see
things I dont' want to show
Inside
a mirror showing the real me
a mirror not making me glow
Inside
the enemy speaks to me
the enemy hinders me to grow
Inside
a battle between the enemy and me
a battle I'm not always willing to owe
Inside
the worst and the best of me
the worst I would like to stow
Inside
the real me should be set free
the real me should be able to flow
Inside
it seems logical to always be me
it seems not always easy though
Jan 17, 2010
Jan 17, 2010 at 2:31 AM UTC