"upkeep" poems
Rebel Against Rebellion
I have nothing to prove
No creeds, no doctrine to upkeep
We all have so much freedom when we close our eyes
And just think
Maybe you need to humble yourself enough
To lose
Rebel Against Rebellion
Because they're all just books
Your sword is looking pretty dull sir
Why are you so inclined to hurt?
Thought your prophet preached LOVE?
So repeat words
Choose what you choose
Choose wisely
Because soon the snake will stop his hissing
Constrict
And become your noose
Rebel Against Rebellion
I think I'll call your bluff
I bleed, I sin, I'll die
But I'm not feeling hot standing here
So tell me again why I should be afraid
Of my fleet mortal life?
Rebel Against Rebellion
Because a Sheppard leads a flock
But you never followed
Your a goat
Caught in your lies
Bureaucracy, Democracy
Man it's all a joke
A silly excuse
Rules, the sacrum of man's brain
Your doctrine is becoming lame
And your beliefs more insane
Coliseum
A game to play to make you so entertained
Please write another rule
Prove once again
The medium you choose is jewels
You fool
Rebel Against Rebellion
Why would I cut my brother short?
Because of appearance and all your silly rules
So many when uttered I choke
For all we know life itself a joke
Oh the irony
What began as unity
Became bowing down
To man's hierarchy
So I Rebel Against Rebellion
I'm a servant of no man
I know God has a plan
That over cries your silly fear
Unravels your vines
Your words
Agenda and
"Time"
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 3:00 AM UTC
So...there's this girl who's rather smart
that, when her lips begin to part,
drives me up the wall in a good way.
I sort of want to see her everyday.
She's usually busy though,
so I occupy
time with one constant sigh
until she calls and then I go.
I don't really know too much about her ---
she's Aphrodite's caricature! ---
no,no, that's a bit rash and inflated,
but in my stomach butterflies've congregated
each time her face comes to mind.
Severely interesting,
her hands are often clean
and she's never proved less than kind.
I think it might be good to write her a song
(I should've been writing this all along)
so that she'll feel sublimely delighted
and is happy, though consistently derided
by the upkeep of her garden's flora.
She could use a lot
of things uncommonly wrought,
like poems stuffed with anaphora.
*In time all the snowflakes will evaporate.
In time the sun will sleep under an iron leaf.
In time acetylene darkens human hate.
In time all time will seem quite brief.*
So, in honor of her I have created
this mediocre song so dominated
by use of the Yeats-stanza's rhythmic-rhyme,
offering it to her as ends to the crime
of my deplorable mannerisms.
I hope it's well-received,
being arduously conceived,
but I'll openly accept criticisms.
Coral, though you must (and do) work a lot,
work harder at those things which can't be bought
(i.e. relationships, love, and empathy)
for even the natural workaholic bee
requires mutual love.
Even while working
find a small moment to sing
this song. I hope it's enough.
Oct 5, 2012
Oct 5, 2012 at 2:54 PM UTC
Casually caressing
the comedy of life
A child knows not
tragedy’s strife.
There is always another dream
toy or friend
for their fetal-esteem.
They spell their grammar
with candy and curiosity
while maintaining a history
in smile and laughter.
The heroism of Joe
the G.I.
and the beauty of a Barbie
are created impulsively and
fueled by imagination and apple juice.
A bike is not
a means of transportation
but rather
meant to be raced and jumped.
Scooby-Doo
and the ****** Tunes should
rule Saturday mornings
from their throne in the tube.
Monkey bars and playgrounds,
are not merely a facility
to upkeep physical activity.
Instead
it is a kingdom of escape
engineered by make-believe
funded by risk-taking
and motivated by the
eradication of the cootie-plagued
and ****** pickers.
Where did time go,
when these bones grew old
this brain grew dull
and these hands lost their callus?
The world is cruel
for the elder mind.
Yet, for our youthful kin,
Society does not exist
in coloring books
and world peace is only found
in imagination and apple juice.
Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 2:02 AM UTC
Honesty is the best policy,
One we've chosen to abstain.
Honestly I'd rather you be honest with me;
Walking on eggshells we could refrain.
Tiptoeing around so we don't step upon the cracks in our floors,
Holding our breath tight so we don't breath in the thick truth-
God forbid we just speak honestly anymore,
God forbid we let all of the unsaid thoughts loose.
Honestly I can't say I know you like I once did,
And that's absolute fact.
All because we have absolutely forbid
Ourselves from a backtrack-
Backtracking to when we could actually talk without thinking before speaking
Or worrying about what we have said.
No worries of the truth leaking
From our honest hearts and heads.
I don't want your meaningless quips,
Your aimless remarks.
I prefered the small notes on slips,
Our conversations in the dark.
Honesty is the best policy,
A policy we tried and found true-
A policy we have declined to upkeep,
A policy we once knew.
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 12:52 AM UTC
Tomb of a millionaire,
A multi-millionaire, ladies and gentlemen,
Place of the dead where they spend every year
The usury of twenty-five thousand dollars
For upkeep and flowers
To keep fresh the memory of the dead.
The merchant prince gone to dust
Commanded in his written will
Over the signed name of his last testament
Twenty-five thousand dollars be set aside
For roses, lilacs, hydrangeas, tulips,
For perfume and color, sweetness of remembrance
Around his last long home.
(A hundred cash girls want nickels to go to the movies to-night.
In the back stalls of a hundred saloons, women are at tables
Drinking with men or waiting for men jingling loose
silver dollars in their pockets.
In a hundred furnished rooms is a girl who sells silk or
dress goods or leather stuff for six dollars a week wages
And when she pulls on her stockings in the morning she
is reckless about God and the newspapers and the
police, the talk of her home town or the name
people call her.)
2.6k
Astonishingly! This poetry analogy is partially of a prodigy poet! It is of his endearment and endeavorment in our great Government that desecrated, medicated, sedated and segregated him. Doped! Desperately copping and hoping he made it! To add, no dad! An artistically rad-lad through the bad, the glad, the sad and mad. This destiny of a poet is also of apologies, felonies, formalities, legalities and theories.
Furthermore it’s of mournful and scornful-laughter! Capture and rapture, dreamingly and seemingly, chapter after chapter... Pondering and wondering is there a happily ever after? This destiny of a poet is heavenly, randomly and religiously, tellingly of lots of many thoughts! Some adventuresome, awesome, burdensome, fearsome and gruesome! Some loathsome, lonesome and wholesome!
Some of dreams, schemes and many themes! Some deemed and seemed differently, discriminately, indecently or racially true, from some views. Some askew and blue! Some of clues, of Jews, of taboo, tattoos and voodoo! This destiny of a poet; stunningly who could’ve and would’ve thought once, twice or thrice of this price? Of the cheers and peers, the jeers, the leers,
the tears and weary years... Therefore I say, some artist’s
clever art may create, dictate, relate and translate similar-thriller craftsmanship with negative, positive or relative penmanship. However, typically some probably will publicly criticize as a travesty. Some will harmonize, some will publicize or socialize, some will disrespect as imperfect, some will neglect, some will respect as perfect! Hark! I remark; brethren, children and women keep and upkeep that
creative spark! For in the dark or as you embark. Literally, morality and reality is in my poetry and story. Expect excellent, brilliant, decadent, resilient talent and testaments! Basically on final note! I positively devote, quote and wrote these eccentrically optimistic, rhetoric and theoretic poetically lyrical rhyming notes. Finally and bluntly, do not negatively amend, bend, pretend or transcend this end. Amen...
Mar 29, 2012
Mar 29, 2012 at 9:22 PM UTC
3D Printing
Proud owners of 3D Printers !
Makers of 3D Printers !
Designers of 3D Printers !
What you are creating
Does't hold a candle
To Designer-maker-owner
All-in-one models
Created eons ago !!
It is the female of
Every species of mammals !
Bones, flesh, blood
Nerves, memory cells
Power plants to convert
Food to energy !
Control systems to regulate
Regeneration of fresh cells
Filter system to provide
Clean oxygen to
Fuel the Power Plants
With Powerful binoculars
Audio production mechanics
Audio receptors to pass on
Grey cells enclosed in
Secure and hard shell
Strands of fine hairs
To cushion impact and
As thermal insulation
Protection shields for
All sensory units
Efficient drainage system
Propulsion facilities
Guidance and command
Center for all activities!!
Processors working 24/7
Processing gene information
Tweaking and fine tuning
Some info and trashing a few
Data storage many TB more
Than many data centers could
Offer with minimum
Upkeep and maintenance
Self-Encryption capabilities
And above all the ability
To produce both male and
Female of their species
All from getting just
One ***** and
ultimately infusion
of LIFE
Into the product as casual
As our breathing.
Do we know the creator?
Different Religions have
Different Names for it
But all the same it is
THE ONLY ONE
That counts :-)
Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 12:18 PM UTC
םתוח
השׂטן
and i thought that ancient egyptian
was retarted...
looks like there's a contender!
hebrew!
this language doens't know left
from right, or up from down...
hebrew is, by html encoding... a dodo project!
it's retarted!
hebrew can't survive in the html age...
it's retarudus proximus!
oh, you think arabic is any better?
don't think semites should
be laughing at this point...
trying to write hebrew script is like
juggling pineapples...
what does it say?
the seal of satan... satan?
well that implies guardian
of the tetragrammaton...
i still agree hebrew evolved from
ancient egyptian script...
but hebrew wasn't used in writing
html or any other computing script...
that's why it's so retarted when trying
to write it in html mode...
nope, can't convince me...
you can't really write hebrew in html mode...
i call this the extinction precipice...
if this ****** is going to keep up
its copernican acid tripping not knowing
left from right...
might as well leave it at the roman
long-handshake... where hands
don't actually touch, but hands touch
nearing the elbow... namely
forearm-grip.
as the original stated:
the smaller the audience: the greater span of historical worth, and desire to upkeep: that pangloss citation from voltaire's candide: better us tending to our own conerns, that bother ourselves with the concerns of others.
oh, i know what a small audience implies...
didn't christ have only the 12,
didn't pythagoras only have the approx. 30?
there's something quite telling
about a small audience...
not exactly cultish...
but something beyond the realm
of influencing people within a single
lifetime...
take en sabah nur and his 4:
oh come on... rewrite tolstoy's
war & peace in a comic form:
just to ease the gates for poets,
and leave barren, the boring narrator...
let's keep it at just that:
there's something telling about a small
audience...
look at the 1 and the 12,
and now look at the billionth marker -
funny, isn't it?
what am i claiming though?
ah, that's simple, that's a revival of
"judaism" - i say "judaism" because
i am the one ordained with neither prophecy
or anything worth mastering:
i am the guardian of the tetragrammaton...
and sure, the god within the confines of
philosophy has to necessarily not exist...
but?
well... you can't really evaporate
the tetragrammaton out of existence!
whenever the right time comes,
i loose the title: chief prosecutor, and become
chief defendant.
Jul 25, 2017
Jul 25, 2017 at 8:53 PM UTC
When I lay in bed,
Trying to sleep.
When I close my eyes,
Thinking so deep.
When it becomes too late,
I fall asleep.
When I dream of a dream,
I can’t upkeep.
When all my senses,
Start to seep.
To the nonexistence,
Want to creep.
That’s the moment,
Forever,
I want to keep.
Abdullah Ayyash
October 2nd, 2010
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 3:08 PM UTC
do regular maintenance
on your soul
clean out the blemish
and the soot
soak it in solution
dust out the corners
of your mind
handle it with care
and buff the edges
caulk the cracks
polish the windows
of your heart
throw out the excess
and leave only the joy
furbish the frayed fringe
Feb 19, 2019
Feb 19, 2019 at 8:42 AM UTC
I again got stuck in the bridge today
In the Upper Plateau bridge-
The bridge across the lagoon.
Stuck, with no breathing space to manoeuvre
All three lanes facing forward, chock a block
Cars of all sizes and costs strewn around
It's always like that, faced ahead on the wheel
Neither space to turn left to see anything right;
Nor to the right, for anything left...
When on the steering wheel
You are responsible, not just for your actions;
But the whole world around.
For the car in the front, back and the
Sides, who cannot move until you move.
Slowly you realise, 'it was never a
Bridge across for ever"
There has been this urge,
Many a time, to break out and run, though
You are stuck in the bridge, no room to
manoeuvre
Often it's like a circle eating itself;
Beginning losing the end and vice versa!
But then comes the thoughts of the school fees, the maintenance, the rent and the upkeep
You are stuck on the bridge, mate
Stay put, until the snarls open its own
--------////
All rights reserved (c) A K Kalesh Kumar 2016
Dec 29, 2016
Dec 29, 2016 at 7:41 PM UTC
genetic & embedded in both
the left and right brains and
heart muscles, pores and parts
that participate in the body’s
daily ritual colloquium regarding
the necessary amount of magic
needed, upkeep required,
to please the Lord,
whose designers were
co~missioned,
tasked-to make a self healing
being, with a reasonable shelf
life but with built-in imperfections
and to struggle and to
*honor that idea that we born blind
and our goal is
learning to see,
envision
our better*
version
the
correct redirection of
constant course corrections
using the
secret compass chord
playing on the harp of our
heart strings
<•>
903am
1/23/25
on a day of addition and sub traction
Jan 25, 2025
Jan 25, 2025 at 6:07 AM UTC
The ethereal plane goes silent.
Pilot decides they are too tired to fly.
Decrease cabin pressure to decrease cabin fever.
The cousin of my cousin who is not my cousin cannot engineer a solution if not given proper tools.
Cavemen can use simple tools but are adept at clubs if you injure their hearts so let’s call a ***** a ***** we know diamonds are only rocks but forever is simply tomorrow repeating.
I can’t see what’s in the cards beyond that.
Even worse is to look at the present you gave worn each day.
Standing still a painful reminder.
Best to keep moving.
I'm in a precarious juxtaposition.
One move and the King is toppled but the Queen reigns in this game.
I shall grant our enemies no quarter, this game is free of charge.
The truth is the true blue you doesn't know what to do but the blue blood in you
requires more upkeep than that and you'll deny it until you're blue in the face.
That's enough blue clichés, especially when I'm seeing red.
Fell trees for the fires or gather the ones already fallen.
It doesn't matter, you'll still
wear multiple layers to get through the knight in shining arm morbidity.
I keep all your sugar coated spiders sealed in jars.
I'd rather they not bite me anymore either.
Outside appearances mean little when one wears so many faces.
See you on the flip side but remember on the inside I'm dying to meet you again.
I am jumbled.
I'm mixing my metaphors and metaphysics.
They promised adult supervision but I can't see clearly without glasses.
I'm like a deer caught in the dread lights.
I'm under cardiac arrest and I've been coaxed into signing a police state meant just for you.
How can I be held responsible for the consequences when everything is out of sequence, doesn't that leave me only a con?
Paradigm shift has occurred.
The door to my heart is closed.
Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 9:53 AM UTC
Ice Tinkles in Cocktail Glasses,
At a Washington Hotel Lobby
A Senator Brags about his Hobby
It costs a lot of Upkeep to Maintain
Racing Stock, Ah but Bridled & Reined
Its Worth It, says the Chair of the FDA
Committee Over Sight to the Rep From
The Pharmaceuticals Association
As they Head to the Corner to whisper
The Engineer At Major Automotive
Tells them what he Sees for new Parts
They are off tolerance But in the Chart
It Shows only 3% Fatality, and It saves cash
After the Discussion to table it for Now
They break out the Bonuses for saving Money
Dark Souls Cast Dark Shadows in Life
With No Respect For Honesty or Right
Can't they see in a Flash, they fly into the Abyss
For all their Money..... On a Carpet of Cash
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 6:33 PM UTC
The clumsy metaphor of a graveyard
will go largely unnoticed by me for some time,
by then I will still love you
and you will love someone else.
We don’t know this. We’re stumbling through
snowcapped, oddly pristine tombstones
at midnight while a thirty-something
Brooklynite rambles about
upkeep of monuments to dead things,
the finessing of memories into smooth
marble and granite boxes but I do not listen,
the swooping nape of your neck distracts me.
I will later regret this.
How did I miss something dying
right next to me, as we held hands,
where did the love go when I gave back
the scrapbook you made called
"70 Reasons Why I Love You,"
because memories weren't good enough,
memories remind me that every corpse
once loved and we all die and we all love
but I'd rather die
than feel like this.
How couldn't I tell
from the way we kissed
that everything was wrong?
I know nothing of
the upkeep of monuments to dead things,
the bodies in my head have all been exhumed
or burned and given back,
and I should have listened
to that ******* hipster because
after all this time,
I cannot remember anything
but your exposed alabaster skin,
flushed by cold,
on that lonely winter night.
Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 12:01 AM UTC
If precious time to freely spend
is all that you could offer me,
with a great deal, I must contend;
I don't feel the fairest harmony.
My mailbox needs fixing.
My muscle is burning.
My value is changing.
I'm tired of hurting.
If precious time to freely spend
is all that you could offer me,
I wonder why I'm so content
to whine of overdue upkeep.
Why must work be so hard?
Why should work be so hard?
Now, without further adieu,
I'll prove from you what I have learned:
I can love what I'd like to!
I'll make every moment beauty earned.
My mailbox needs fixing!
My muscle is burning!
My value is changing,
I'm tired of hurting!
Dec 8, 2010
Dec 8, 2010 at 4:44 PM UTC
how about... the irish and the scots re-learn gaelic... and the welsh upkeep their pseudo-germanic style of spelling, of what i might call indigestion, or in english: names of chemical compounds in shampoo?
there's a limit to assimilating into a foreign
country...
sure... i'll learn the language,
i'll even speak it better than the natives...
but when it comes to my mutterzunge,
(mothertongue), and my private life,
in my own home?
like **** you're going to force me
to forget the language i was born in...
only asians in england, can be so "humbled",
or rather tricked, or coerced,
just so they think they're somehow
superior... which becomes a complex,
and then they start feeding themselves
this ******** nostalgia, for a "golden age"
of the caliphate;
to me? just ****** parenting,
that avoided the stresses of embracing bilingualism,
and, thus, embracing a fluidity of
a merchant class... instead we have these
parasite bourgeoisie... who feel either self-entitled...
or victims.
like **** am i going to give my native tongue up!
i'll speak yours... but you're not
going to plant c.c.t.v. in my home to make
me forget my native heimatsprechen;
like the idea that these, so called "citizens" have
the right to school me? even the queen wouldn't
aspire to such vermin level of politics.
bo? gówno; życie! na kurwanędzą!
May 27, 2017
May 27, 2017 at 9:35 AM UTC
must dedicate myself to you
Somehow, by staying mine,
Sustaining that which you have loved,
instead of unbalancing us.
I'd never want your lips gone,
or the shine that's in your eyes,
so I'll upkeep my quiet side,
the shimmer in my hair,
to give you me as I still am--
your person while I'm mine.
Mar 11, 2021
Mar 11, 2021 at 7:17 PM UTC
We built a beautiful relationship together
sturdy and effective but also appealing and bright
You watched the relationship
you had modeled ours after
crumble to the ground
and all the flaws revealed
We had both seen this before
but it was different this time
Maybe because our relationship
looked like theirs once had
But what we could have never seen
was all the cracks in their foundation
All the problems
they hid in the basement
relationships don't crumble in a day
they slowly erode away
each crack left unfilled
takes away the stability a little more
the rusted out center
of your parents relationship
left only an outside shell
a gust away from complete destruction
The outside doesn't matter
we aren't doomed for the same fate
just because we used the same bricks
its the upkeep that matters
To have a good relationship you have to fill those cracks
You have to work to make things stable
they don't always come naturally
but the results of working together are incredible
Mar 20, 2017
Mar 20, 2017 at 2:36 PM UTC
If any path you took would lead you to greatness
Would you still be afraid of taking the first step?
And stay where you were and still are now
Living each passing second in waking regret?
Because the path to greatness does not mean
The journey is a one way, uphill climb
You fall off and climb then rest in between
Taking care of yourself regardless of time
Because the lessons lie in every moment
Mundane or overbearing extremes
You can find each lesson in the takeaways
If your mindset is easy to upkeep
Because a dream will never come to fruition
If it only lies comfortably where you sleep
Bring it forth into your waking moments
Or live a life waiting to grieve
Because I need that daily reminder
That it is not what but who I believe
I am capable of making things happen
I’ll take myself there with my own two feet
Sep 25, 2021
Sep 25, 2021 at 9:54 PM UTC
too much upkeep
all I dream of is sleep
these social standards
are temporary cancers
only dissipating
when I count sheep
days fleeting
without eating
still I'm always choking
on repeated scenes
only relying
on things that aid in dying
it is no way to live
being so set on ending
when I didn't even begin yet
Sep 7, 2014
Sep 7, 2014 at 8:02 PM UTC
The one that balanced out the flag.
The Aloha state, palm trees glinting and feathered
Like a heart, to a streetlight, tethered.
This is where your intelligence hides
While you lay inside an empty motel
Nothing but the smell of gunpowder
And sweat, and her tears on the barrel.
Who are these people? They keep breaking down the walls.
I don't know if they're fighting or making love,
These Days,
which is to say,
has there ever been much of a difference anyway?
Ice being shuffled by a small, Spanish woman
Who moves silently between doors
Crowing like a bird, to keep the house
Clean, raw, like her hands.
Strands of hair hanging loosely in front of her forehead
Dangling like your fingers in front of my face
Trying to take hold on my thoughts.
The machine hums a steady frequency
And makes ice
She thinks of the power box outside your Hawaiian home.
The emptiness is humbling.
Heatwaves are rolling along like leaves would
If there were any trees to drop them.
The body among the bed, lying in a heap
Of loose teeth and lost sleep
Of licked feet and low upkeep
When the clock strikes, you can't hear it.
All you know is the sun turns white.
And the coyotes begin to howl and whine
Under the black skylight.
Dec 11, 2010
Dec 11, 2010 at 8:42 AM UTC
There, when I feel my mind flooded with all this honesty
and like asking questions as we stare at data and can only see
details not the big picture and I think about things like why is it
that our school is below the state average in testing but it is so expensive it's upkeep
can't be afforded and we spend so much money on technology
but it's still below the state average and I know
you've told me that teachers moving around 3-4 times a day to different classes
prevents ownership by them but you haven't told me why this helps student learning
and now I hear admin says well in Japan the students just sit there and the teachers move
Japan?
And when I went to apply to the SPED program I told the professor I taught 70 kids in a double wide classroom and I had a microphone she looked at me like I was crazy
and so does everyone else I tell
But really, getting back to the first item, we spend so much money on technology but
the students score lower than the state average which is abysmal
It's like a fog has lifted and I never thought these things before
Feb 17, 2013
Feb 17, 2013 at 10:48 PM UTC