"ultimates" poems
Long night drives with a can of golden liquid bitter bluntness are two ultimates that ease the shaky hands and ghosted thoughts
You left me heaving through punctured lungs and broke every rib along the way and I picked up my scattered bones and apologized for the mess
How many more cups of tea until I become harbour?
Oct 31, 2014
Oct 31, 2014 at 9:16 PM UTC
1184
The Days that we can spare
Are those a Function die
Or Friend or Nature—stranded then
In our Economy
Our Estimates a Scheme—
Our Ultimates a Sham—
We let go all of Time without
Arithmetic of him—
1.8k
Lines at night by the light of the moon
Their plan for death will come true for some all too soon
Our lungs with air that’s bombarded with toxin
chocking on the particulate, that spreads across the land.
Veggies and fruits grown by hand or spiralina with colliadal silver,
Cannabis and chlorella too, those are to filter out the Toxic Goo or
The slew of the ultimates poisonous brew
Masked evil intended for the micros
That’s you and me or
should I just tell you something you already knew.
The gates are opening and the swastika is spinning
The time is ticking, their hands are getting all sticky
From all the ***** money that was made aloft from
All the Micro beings being slowly Offed.
Dec 5, 2011
Dec 5, 2011 at 8:14 PM UTC
The iron in your blood is palpable
And as my nose discovered it
It was like a new religion to me-
A break into your apartment
In the middle of the night,
Wearing knee socks and a football jersey,
Hallowing religious experience.
And as much as you like them
I can NOT appreciate Corn flakes.
My feline has found a base in my guitar case
Much like I have made a mansion,
A toasty nest in your dominance wafting veins.
Watching her lay there
I understand
What it is like to be.
What it is like to be
the supplier of ultimates
And not ultimatums.
Like how God feels when he see someone
Bathe in the diminutive properties.
And as much as you like them
I cannot appreciate Corn flakes.
They taste like toenails.
I want to fasten my seatbelt to this.
I want to send you text messages
That are blank and know you know exactly
What I meant to say.
I want to make love to you
Without ever touching you
Because grip might be too rough
For what subsists here.
I will eat your Cornflakes, Mr. Prufrock-
I will eat them up.
Jun 25, 2011
Jun 25, 2011 at 3:36 PM UTC
say that color has the color
of the night, the cold flask.
His father was the father of three years of my life;
You're worried that they did I.
Marked men. mother of man
Both men and women home,
Men and women. Young and old;
young and old, adults, old people
and adults Learn the first and the last of them
Two and a half years in the city
Hector rich on his blog profile;
Brazil regulations.
Spanish and German.
Russian churches in Macedonia
"Barra mundi Page 1, use is good;
Nicky Bush, Greek, Latin, Molly (Moderna)
Day and night, the brightness of the color.
It was called: 1 am furious anger
For it is not yo, What is the river?
then woman
The woman is a woman, as well.
What are the women?
Men and women. children, youth
people, | was. The young people
serve documents
in detail. Money for killing
Our company has 5 branches.
RKK HKK PJouri is proven.
When he was younger.
Brazil and Germany and Russian churches;
Russia's game of "Valentine's Day 1: 1"
Nose officials, phobias, United States
Patton's American Bark
I say there is a straw color
Quiet in the night, besides a vessel.
Three years old, my father's father was my life,
This is what you are worried about poultry
Mark. The mother
After both men and women in the house;
And on women. Young and old;
Young and old, adults, old people |
Learn and Adult, First IT
And ultimates by things first, five hundred thousand,
and two streams of
Hector years ago by the City of the Rich
Blog Profile: Lawn Spanish,
E. Coli in Russian Churches.
Page 1 in twelve world worlds;
His wife, Nicky Bush, Greek, Latin,
Moli (NODERNA) day and night
First speed color
it was called; Furious anger at 1 o'clock | am.
What is the river: because there is no hieroglyph?
Woman is a woman;
good man.
How are you, ladies?
And on women. Children, youth
People, Myself. young people'
Service documents;
Every word of this Money is death.
Our company has 5 branches.
RKK HKK proves PJ is Your I.
When In Reality it Benefits
Brazil and Germany and Russia's Churches;
Russian People's Game "Valentine's Day 1: 1"
Nosy officials fear of the United States
of Barack's American Futon
Nov 1, 2018
Nov 1, 2018 at 9:15 PM UTC
fatigued hope
weary steps.
ultimates--
in surplus
" . . .do what's right."
dreams discarded.
times tried.
keys found.
years lost.
casts made,
casts kept:
hearts broken.
lengths paced.
parts on a limb.
"do as good men would!"
omens and murky sighs.
time will draw-in soon--
future becomes yesterday
where are you?
where, the dreams . . .?
what's in your paved face?
-by
Hakim H. Kassim.
(d. November 07, 2017)
Dec 31, 2023
Dec 31, 2023 at 6:14 PM UTC