"subduction" poems
A hymn to paired planethood: Venus hits Pluto
as death, in cold orbit, collides with biology
smashing to fragments: demonic astrology
(more a black hole than a love-star, it’s true though).
Cynical cure for Eve’s womanly grievance
Concupiscent consequence: lust’s bitter fruit –
ah the thought… changing Sin into mere inconvenience.
Margaret sang her seductive refrain
about weeding the garden and progress and light.
Her sisters should view her with scornful disdain
but instead have adopted her murderous rite.
With sang-froid she promoted her racist eugenics
(as if she had never herself been a fetus),
condemning her heirs to postmodern polemics
while nurturing ardent desires to defeat us.
Suppressing the lives that she flushed down the drain
she would liberate Death – and resistance was vain.
As a midwife to modern life (though on the “anti” side)
Old Matron Margie racked up quite a legacy
singing the praises of sanctioned infanticide
calling the shots for the coming sick century.
Planning, quite calmly, to “cleanse” certain races
her zeal was empowered by murderous graces.
She labored to bring us such pearls of subduction:
“dilation and curettage”, “women’s autonomy”
“viable fetus”, “procedure”, a “suction”
Hippocrates retches to hear the taxonomy;
words that turn Life into mere reproduction.
She enters the realms of the ****** and the motherless
roundly condemned by her feminine otherness.
Man’s first protection: the God-given womb
which no infant should have to regard as their tomb.
Dismembered dark cherubs, assembling, greet her
as demons (in scrubs) holding baby-parts meet her.
Long may she burn with the medical cynics
this mother of Moloch, this founder of clinics.
Convenience is king when abortion’s the Queen
and the profits swell big with each nubile teen…
yet the fruit of such carnage remains to be seen.
I send her this song as a funeral wreath
and a card inked in blood. You may read what is there:
“To the Matrix Supreme of our culture of death
from the souls of the infants you slew on the earth.
May your torment increase with the children you bear.”
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 9:09 PM UTC
As lovers we've learned
that you are the immovable object,
and I the irrepressible force,
though our ****** subduction truly terrifies the natives,
and has spun much aboriginal lore,
they credit us with Monsooning the weather,
but looking back, my dear, see the adorable mountains we've made.
Jan 29, 2011
Jan 29, 2011 at 8:04 AM UTC
Boundaries converge
subduction, descension
divergent margins widen
convective from the core
red hot and sticky
hardening to obsidian
succumb to subterranean pull
an infinitesimal slide below
dense and pressured soil
the slow parting seam
a rift becomes a chasm
consuming solid ground
Nov 10, 2016
Nov 10, 2016 at 11:54 AM UTC
Lost at sea
Without a home
Caught within
The subduction zone
Come and feel my radiation
Revel in universal segregation
Robbing the king of his throne
Safely from the subduction zone
Run for cover
And Higher ground
The Hurricane's coming
Leave this town
Millions dead with no survivors
Where's your god now?
Smirking probably
The man is very Proud
What is the world but one big catastrophe
Catastrophe
Catastrophe
Jan 25, 2011
Jan 25, 2011 at 3:57 PM UTC
Life's reflection glistens through sands of time.
Days past due reunite with our current days disguise.
We glimmer in the false light portraying us to our knees.
Reaping such qualities turns our words to disease.
Acquisitions conquer minds through solid demise.
Leading hearts of hate to realise.
We are our own living destruction.
Believing such theories brought through subduction.
We replenish the rot of our personality.
To feast off our remaining qualities.
Together we fail united we'll fall.
Through the eyes of evil till death do us all.
-Joseph B Schneider
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 9:45 PM UTC
Burnt umber in the morning
As the planets do align,
Ominously holding
To the Zodiac design,
Reminding us that somewhere
In the Bible, it was said,
That by the twelfth year of this century
Whole populations would be dead.
They say it is upon us
Those children of the moon,
They say the fingers of our destiny
Shall fall upon us soon.
Calamitous catastrophe
To befall the western world
That fiscal debt implosion
Will result with fraud unfurled,
When abnormal plate subduction
Along the continent's divide
Will magnify the earthquake swarm
Across the planet's hide.
When enormous ring tsunamis
Emanate from deep at sea
To cascade onto shorelines
To wreak extreme calamity.
Across the globe, Astrologist's,
Say something huge is due.
Their whispers quietly amplified
To percolate to you.
What little can be done or said
It's very hard to say
Because authorities worldwide
Refuse to recognize this day,
They won't readily acknowledge
Those symptoms verily to hand,
The frequent natural disasters
Occurring in each land.
Contagion is contagious
The whispers may be wrong,
Perhaps the future holds for us
A vastly different song,
But when the moon is full and white
And I look into her face,
I discern a bleak anxiety
Destined for the human race
I see mother nature poised
To take the heavy, upper hand
With an implacable demeanor
And un empathetic stand.
Burnt umber in the morning
As the planets do align,
Ominously holding
To the Zodiac design,
Reminding us that somewhere
In the Bible, it was said,
That by the twelfth year of this century
Whole populations would be dead.
Marshalg
@theBach
In the cold moonlight
20 May 2010
May 19, 2010
May 19, 2010 at 3:04 AM UTC
Feeling the pain
of tectonic plates
shifting athwart my heart, I say
unbearable, but she will see-
subduction will not be the death of me.
Buried beneath,
what she betrayed,
this heart cannot go on this way.
The deep sea trenches in my brain
distort and break my peaceful face.
The shock within,
your evil sin,
fractured to the mantle, this
conduction brings a lava flow
I know my heart can love again.
Jun 9, 2010
Jun 9, 2010 at 7:51 AM UTC
*** with you
is a workout.
Quick breaths and heavy heartbeats.
I love your sweat
and the way it makes your skin
stick to mine.
*** with you is a hurricane
violent winds strong enough
I’d blow away if I didn’t
grip the anchor of your hips.
I count seconds between
the lightning in your smile
and the thunder of your heartbeat
to know how close you are.
It is neuroscience.
Can you see the action potential
jump up the dendrites of my fingers
when I touch you?
It is a fistfight
it might end with
bruises and ****** lips
but it’s worth it for the adrenaline rush
behind the upper cut.
Later I can’t stop tonguing
the cut on the inside of my mouth.
I like the way you sting.
*** with you is a
wrinkle in time.
It’s the bottom of the ninth
2 outs, bases loaded
and time. just. stops.
It’s a SWAT team’s
flash bang.
The explosion leaves me dazed,
and I can’t hear anything but my pulse.
It’s any number of drugs.
Your tongue
tastes like moonshine
My body swirls
and my mouth rounds hollow
around the smoke in your kisses.
*** with you is
using all seven tiles in Scrabble
and landing on a triple word score.
For a moment,
I am invincible.
It is plate tectonics.
My body dips into the magma
of the negative space between your hips,
my favorite subduction zone.
*** with you is a math problem
It’s complicated and
it takes patience
but there’s not a word for the
satisfaction when my fingers
draw the last equal sign
and the red pen of your body
is silenced.
*** with you is like
sparklers.
I want to write our names in fire.
May 11, 2011
May 11, 2011 at 1:03 AM UTC
a moment refines
least of all i, coarse
subdivision of all
second skies, stars,
or nothing, minute
from fall. or fallen
already. asleep for
hours. hope coiled
helplessness around
her wrist, caught my
head. spent days in
space. at least, most
of them. can't help
subduction any same,
another algebra in
stone. collapse like
month's passage. hope
won't speak, every
theory is glowing. a
year dissolves empty,
replacing every field
with stripmalls to
mountains again. a
century forgets regicide.
an eternity later, we
press against the wall
like dust coalescing.
hope strings us up,
couple more
embers in the sky.
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 7:25 AM UTC
Buzzing brains. Familiar clots,
I'll slur my way through second thoughts
blot out doubts with distilled friendships
roll tonight into tomorrow's
bottled sleep
Counting sheep until the ground leaps up
to kiss these puckered features,
I'll appease habit with sacrificial dreams.
Face lowered
head under-
neath; the miles fold into a hood.
Long-distance.
**** tired.
of bleeding small amounts for greater good.
Quaking hands. Familiar shakes,
Five years remembered--fish for dates
Blurring hands held, smudging smiles
cloud last night under today's
soaked, waking sleep
Counting months until a year is up
then fade out of the foreground
and appeal for a new picture to see
Hands folded
in pockets
I'm southbound. Quench my thirst. Walk back home
Long distance
still learning
what it's like to face a year out here alone.
Jun 5, 2013
Jun 5, 2013 at 11:42 AM UTC
Let me be the drop of ink
On your ivory canvas
Mark you at the center
Through suction
Came your subduction
Not a claim against your sovereignty
Rather passionate vandalism
From a guest stopping by
To your milky temple
Jul 3, 2017
Jul 3, 2017 at 4:49 PM UTC
New wag, comma?
I Remember you.
Voodun done done it now
As if black magic
Were the true evil
That chose earth
To cast a drought severe
Enough to crack subduction.
Post-normal
Tags or label burnout.
I promised muse
I wouldn't **** around
With september
Im faithful that way.
Wiselands wasted in autocorrection
The
Luck of the intranet
Scene. heard ya
Nasa sleeps on amber alerts...
War is a money maker..
So says the general
Who stomped through my ivy in 2014
Hoping it would make me see things his way
Sense he, was on the inside.
I believe they do the right thing but ive been told that
im naive. I hate being told that, cause ima grown up
So says the kid in me.
Sometimes i feel soooo dumb.
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 2:30 AM UTC
In the confines of my mind, I cascade through time in way that is hard to define. Cascading through fire and transpire to a higher level, which shows my desire. The story of my life is not a gun or a knife, it's the fight for wrong, when all around me is right. Fight the monotony of the inner psychology that removes us hypnotically from the ties of duality.
Being confident is not the same as a bully, cause aggression is not a scapegoat for ignorance, it's the aptitude of your patheticness. The coincidence of that ignorance is the submissiveness of a society that is blinded by fashion and ****** brain ******* **** tube of a generation. But the subduction of concussion that wears away at our minds makes us merely pawns in a sick kids game.
Then cascade through dreams to find impossible things, and life, which we affectionately create with style that holds weight like one of the great lakes, but holds you in your place cause ignorance is your fate regardless of what pain you take. People are stupid!
Is fate so often redefined by the curiosity of the mind, but your cloud will never move any faster, it's not the path that you take, it's the feelings you find along the way that define it. Emotions are transparent in the catastrophe of the spirit as you search for the meaning in your screams and sorrow, forever! But smile, "because ignorance is bliss"….
Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 2:48 PM UTC
(paragraph of prose broken into irregular lines and mistitled "poetry")
The technoid global middlemen
became Cro-Magnon underlings
and had to relearn flint-flaking techniques
after the adverse event
which God encrypted
into the underwear
of the overlords.
The logos logged off
forever.
The etheric records
were sealed.
The angels rejoiced
when silicone valley
slid into the subduction zone
(not their fault)
The remnant of redeemed humankind
told stories around the holy fires
about the dark age of technocracy
from which they were liberated
but none of the generation
born in the millennium
believed it was true
Mar 14, 2017
Mar 14, 2017 at 9:35 PM UTC
once again, point on shore,
with lit-up eyes
and soaked, gold: fresh hope.
grove of oak trees left long behind.
free, out in the open.
the cloudline, roused on
the edge of the darkening blue;
riled up, all in my throat, & i'm
counting down days
like evaporating droplets of mist,
i, the forest,
and accompanying subduction.
Jan 30, 2016
Jan 30, 2016 at 3:48 AM UTC
Yes I feel the pain and yes I see the bruises.
Yes I've had the scars but really what the truth is
it's not those that've carved me but those that consumed my past.
Just hoping til the day I die the subduction of need will last.
Not that that was a need I just wanted a reminder,
that my pain was not in vain and that I'm still a fighter.
Though I used the edge against myself and I've been on the wrong the whole time,
I don't need self confirmation of confidence, what I need is a sign.
I know that times are getting dark and the world is getting colder,
and even still the world still feels right above your shoulders.
When I'm buried, put it deep,
Maybe then I'll get a better sleep.
Same thing goes for all the children,
Cause the Lord knows there's at least a billion
of them too awake of how the world truly is.
But then again, maybe then that's when they'll truly live.
Oct 25, 2016
Oct 25, 2016 at 10:37 PM UTC
i didn't followed you to the waters,
just so you could pull me under.
Oct 13, 2020
Oct 13, 2020 at 1:54 AM UTC