"suctions" poems - Hello Poetry

You sow seeds of your life, By your own self. You wish that they survive, Without others' help. You put some water of affection, And desire for a vibrant leaves collection. You anticipate it show the true inner reflection. You wish the plant to grow soon, It peaks out and sees the brutality. You take care of it in the blazing afternoon, So that it doesn't adapts to the causality. You wish it to grow into a sturdy brawny tree, Which gives fruits and blooms flowers, Which can be set free, And is full of vie and power. Once it's usual to the surroundings, People come and go. And say bad words cursily The tree- it's morals go low. The imaginations and expectations All are failed. Full of scars and suctions You now sailed. Back to - from where you came. No guilt, no regret, no shame. You think to earn more fame, Making your life truly lame. The tree without you died, Because it had no hope. Are you still capable to say "it's mine" It is long gone.

0

Aug 6, 2021

Aug 6, 2021 at 9:48 AM UTC

owlerynquills

Seeds

You sow seeds of your life, By your own self. You wish that they survive, Without others' help. You put some water of affection, And desire for a vibrant leaves collection. You anticipate it show the true inner reflection. You wish the plant to grow soon, It peaks out and sees the brutality. You take care of it in the blazing afternoon, So that it doesn't adapts to the causality. You wish it to grow into a sturdy brawny tree, Which gives fruits and blooms flowers, Which can be set free, And is full of vie and power. Once it's usual to the surroundings, People come and go. And say bad words cursily The tree- it's morals go low. The imaginations and expectations All are failed. Full of scars and suctions You now sailed. Back to - from where you came. No guilt, no regret, no shame. You think to earn more fame, Making your life truly lame. The tree without you died, Because it had no hope. Are you still capable to say "it's mine" It is long gone.

31

calling IV calling all truck drivers calling all car dealers all scuba divers all potato peelers all mothers all sons all brothers calling all who’ve won all losers, users, and just all perusers of rusty lust calling all criminals all those who’ve tussled and cussed calling all mechanics and all whom, in them, trust calling all politicians for i must beg of ye to see this infinity in we calling all ministers of high finance all fragile tendencies toward your dance with your blossoming children and their salty breezes their blown into kerchiefs and their seizing sneezes seeing you as you carry them toward our unifying dust i hold no ill will toward that soil you till i’ve passed around your notes, your bonds, and your bills i’d thought i’d be one of you ‘til i met a few untils love your children, and love yourself, for they shall carry your ashes into a box upon a shelf that dust behind all wealth calling all foxes, dogs, cats, chickens, and beetles all sages, rosemary, spikes, and needles all wages, incendiaries, wallops, and weebles all pages, all poets all police, all panthers all those battling fires without and within all those atop towers all whom are twins calling all wheels upon all surfaces all of those mired in a sense of worthlessness calling all kings calling all nations calling all jordan’s, americas, and native stations we’re writing too much blood into not enough ground we’ve survived our flood and are forever bound calling brother abel and brother cain father abraham and mother pain you’ve traumatized me from all this blood you’ve lain i see peace in all your eyes blown to pieces in terrorizing replies calling all consumers, producers, unionizers, and managers corporations, and not for profit planners all doctors, nurses, clients, and programmers advertisers, marketers, bloggers, and spammers all engineers of damns, bridges, and destructions those who fell they’re ****** due to their suctions i’ve sensed a fragile beauty in your moistened orbs you all carry i beg of you all to come from love lay down your swords i beg you not tarry come women laying into asphalt come scientists predicting san andreas’ fault come widows, charlatans, and poets of trite all ye poets weeping into ye hands all ye poets of darkness and light perfect light and darkness are myths upon this earth just as perfect black and white are myths spun from history’s dearth

0

Apr 12, 2016

Apr 12, 2016 at 7:27 PM UTC

rf-jordan

calling IV

calling IV calling all truck drivers calling all car dealers all scuba divers all potato peelers all mothers all sons all brothers calling all who’ve won all losers, users, and just all perusers of rusty lust calling all criminals all those who’ve tussled and cussed calling all mechanics and all whom, in them, trust calling all politicians for i must beg of ye to see this infinity in we calling all ministers of high finance all fragile tendencies toward your dance with your blossoming children and their salty breezes their blown into kerchiefs and their seizing sneezes seeing you as you carry them toward our unifying dust i hold no ill will toward that soil you till i’ve passed around your notes, your bonds, and your bills i’d thought i’d be one of you ‘til i met a few untils love your children, and love yourself, for they shall carry your ashes into a box upon a shelf that dust behind all wealth calling all foxes, dogs, cats, chickens, and beetles all sages, rosemary, spikes, and needles all wages, incendiaries, wallops, and weebles all pages, all poets all police, all panthers all those battling fires without and within all those atop towers all whom are twins calling all wheels upon all surfaces all of those mired in a sense of worthlessness calling all kings calling all nations calling all jordan’s, americas, and native stations we’re writing too much blood into not enough ground we’ve survived our flood and are forever bound calling brother abel and brother cain father abraham and mother pain you’ve traumatized me from all this blood you’ve lain i see peace in all your eyes blown to pieces in terrorizing replies calling all consumers, producers, unionizers, and managers corporations, and not for profit planners all doctors, nurses, clients, and programmers advertisers, marketers, bloggers, and spammers all engineers of damns, bridges, and destructions those who fell they’re ****** due to their suctions i’ve sensed a fragile beauty in your moistened orbs you all carry i beg of you all to come from love lay down your swords i beg you not tarry come women laying into asphalt come scientists predicting san andreas’ fault come widows, charlatans, and poets of trite all ye poets weeping into ye hands all ye poets of darkness and light perfect light and darkness are myths upon this earth just as perfect black and white are myths spun from history’s dearth

79

It's a place where I lose myself A palace, a chateau even It's where my eyes ache And I become a heathen It's a leech, it suctions To my leg in my left pocket I defeat its functions When I cease and lock it It's a place where migraines spawn Where I am a wandering fawn Alone and heartbroken Waiting for a word to be spoken But there isn't a single one Nothing uttered from my tongue Just a device that becomes My leader and my god Its function is to reduce Me and to produce A captive bone bag

0

Mar 22, 2017

Mar 22, 2017 at 3:42 PM UTC

anthony-james-brandy

Captive Bone Bag (A Riddle)

It's a place where I lose myself A palace, a chateau even It's where my eyes ache And I become a heathen It's a leech, it suctions To my leg in my left pocket I defeat its functions When I cease and lock it It's a place where migraines spawn Where I am a wandering fawn Alone and heartbroken Waiting for a word to be spoken But there isn't a single one Nothing uttered from my tongue Just a device that becomes My leader and my god Its function is to reduce Me and to produce A captive bone bag

19

"The text is typical. It's like a speech whose units mold like a dropping of a secretion. And since he is here a glottic gesture, work on oneself of the language, the element It is the saliva that also sticks units to each other. The association is a sort of slimy contiguity, never a reasoning or symbolic appeal; the goop from the hazard makes sense, and progress pace by small tremors, grasping and suctions, veneer - in every sense - and slippery *********** In the mouth or along the column. "

0

Mar 2, 2018

Mar 2, 2018 at 10:42 PM UTC

shoki

Extracts from Glas

"The text is typical. It's like a speech whose units mold like a dropping of a secretion. And since he is here a glottic gesture, work on oneself of the language, the element It is the saliva that also sticks units to each other. The association is a sort of slimy contiguity, never a reasoning or symbolic appeal; the goop from the hazard makes sense, and progress pace by small tremors, grasping and suctions, veneer - in every sense - and slippery *********** In the mouth or along the column. "

2