Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Maria Mitea Jun 13
and the cold grabs you by the As because you've gotten it into your head that time is responsible for everything,
                                                              wh­en it doesn't even exist
and care,

in the end, the cold has its own business; it can come and go when its muscles want,
i saw how the cold invaded india,
after you left, it snowed in every place we thought to go,

the locals went to the buddha to pray for the snow not to melt,
they send the cold back to us
                                               to warm his little hands,

This is how the world grows from the cold and loneliness,
it grows into a lousy monkey,

In the last 500 years, westerners with acid in their fingertips, and
their bellies fermenting liquor, have built boats, airplanes, to take their loneliness around the world,
after that, they molted like snakes


... and love gets stuck in your throat like a fish bone,
you have no choice, you learn to live with the bone in your throat, even
when you kiss, and even when you
f...ly

and what business do hindu peasants have with the cold in the bones of an american, or a canadian,
a frenchman,
when it no longer attracts him to throw himself into the Seine,
but runs to buddha, to
                                    export his loneliness,

... airports are always packed with abandoned solitudes,
who dream of flying,
flying
           even to the moon, to forget about them, like a coat, to forget it somewhere,
somewhere on a stone,
or on a bench in a park in paris,
in a cafe decorated with fresh flowers,
and two cheerful lovers, hand in hand, who sit down, drink coffee, and look each other in the eye,
and, inkognito
the loneliness of the american tourist infiltrates their gaze
either to comfort them, or to scare them,
to make their legs tremble, to bring them to a common denominator,
and here is loneliness and the nitrophor that awakens our hearts,
the only one capable of raising kites in the wind,

an invisible glue,
loneliness is the only one who dreams,
walks through all the corners, wipes the dust,
and even digs to put the frost back into our bones, and again to take it out
like a tooth that hurts


the cold left on a beach
in Cucabaka country, awaits the only sunrise,

only the cold in the bones is still her friend, the fierce loneliness,
**** loneliness,
joyful loneliness,
sad one,
the loneliness of the japanese decorated with sand gardens,
so it's not blue loneliness,
the loneliness of the french is thrown over bridges,
taken to the moulin rouge,
the russian walks her among white birches,
rolls her on white nights, gives her ***** to drink,
the romanian cries after her, what if she leaves him too,

the latin invites Lonellies to dance:
- Señorita, there's still time for one more tango



... when
you are truly alone, not even the cold is with you,
it leaves through your kidneys, it goes to Angelina Jolie's country,
only loneliness crawls on your elbows looking for a mosquito to bite its buttocks,
but even heat can suffocate you when you are born with loneliness in your blood,

all the blame is on your blood type.

who gave it to you?
they say God has blood type zero,
those with blood type A **** loneliness,
what about B, they write to feed it with poems,

there are many kinds of loneliness,
for those who meditate, they say they stay in solitude,
a sort of alcoholic loneliness, only on the other side of the brain,



lights, so many cars, houses, and buildings around you,
you suffocate, but you squirm like a worm in your "maestro" brand bed and complain that you're alone,
some people call that loneliness when they eat or sleep alone, but I say it's not,
it's not,
as long as you have something to eat and somewhere to sleep, you're not alone,
even sleeping on the street, and picking up trash, you're still not alone,

loneliness is when you get on mars (like mat damon) and you use your feces to create chernozem soil, and want want to grow potatoes,

*
loneliness is just a coat you put on when you're cold,
and we shouldn't overlook that the planet is warming,
and the rains are flooding us, the glaciers are melting,
so neither is the cold the same as it used to be, nor is loneliness the same as it used to be.

it's just a coat that only we know how to put on,
how to wear it,
and when, and where,
and yet,
once, without wanting to, without anyone asking us, loneliness was born to unite us with the cold

(and one day you woke up in a cave, alive, with a stone in your hand)
Nigdaw Sep 2023
Henry Moore, the sculptor
has in his kitchen an original
Picasso
on the wall above the fridge
so every time he made a cuppa
he was reminded of his friend
not a fancy canvas in a frame
but a drawing on A4 sketch pad page
you can imagine the pair of them
discussing art and Henry giving
some small token to Pablo
of his work
and saying you know you should
paint some blue cows
it'll be good for you
you can invent the Emperor's new clothes
as often as you want
if you're a genius
and they would laugh over a glass
of whisky
Pablo went on to give life, of sorts
to his blue cows
oh, and I used to deliver whisky
to Henry Moore's house
I did deliver to Henry Moore, and he has got a Picasso above the fridge.
Martin Bailes Dec 2017
Well that was last week
& this is now
& yes …
it actually is
to him
This President of the United States
who has just endorsed
an accused
child-molestor …

THE PRESIDENT OF THESE HERE
UNITED STATES
HAS ENDORSED
AN ACCUSED
*******!

“He denied it”
says Trump,
of Roy Moore
this man who has 8,
yes …
8 women accusers …
together with witnesses
from the time,
& corroborative evidence
from the time,
& tears …
from the time,
& fear …
from the time,

& if there’s special
place in hell
let it house
Trump
& Moore
& Moore’s enablers
& Republican justifiers
& equivocating TV hosts
& the Evangelical apologists

& as for Trump
& as for Moore …
the moral bankruptcy here
leads me to simply say
in anger, disgust & horror …
may the dark pitiless depths
of a sulfurous burning pit
be their’s for eternity,

or close to.
Martin Bailes Dec 2017
“How these gals came up with this,
I don’t know.
They must have had some
sweet dreams somewhere
down the line.”

Oh yes for sure
Pastor Earl Wise,
sweet, sweet dreams
of violent ****** assault
in a locked vehicle
in a dark car park
behind the diner
in the dead of night,

“Plus,
there are
some 14-year-olds
who …
the way they look,
could pass for 20,”

Oh I know
just take a little
look at that
little 14 year
one over
there’s,
easy to see
as 20,
so easy.

“I don’t know
how much
these women
are getting paid,
but I can only believe
they’re getting
a healthy sum,”

Oh yes,
perhaps George Soros,
or some secret Jewish
liberal slush fund,
or perhaps those
homosexuals,
wouldn’t put
it past them,
no sirree Bob.

Earl Wise is a Christian,
just to let
you know,
just in case …
you were wondering
& such,
him being a Pastor
& all.
Martin Bailes Dec 2017
In a sign of
the complete & utter
moral capitulation
to the designs of power
& the primacy of the old
stone cold ‘ends justify means’
the leader of the United States
Republican Party just this morn
came out in whole-hearted
personal actual phone-call support
of an accused ******* & someone who
was actually on a mall watch list
as a grown assed man …
Roy ‘Ten Commandments’ Moore.
….
& if this news doesn’t just get to you as
it should then you obviously
contain a heart of depthless
dense dark blackness
& find it oh so
easy to quite
simply ignore
the tears
of the assaulted,
an attempted ****,
& innocent
child victims of
this man’s vile pursuit
of pleasure, power
& evil gratification.

******* you Moore,
Trump & all who
enable …
That’s it.
Cori MacNaughton Jul 2015
Depression might not
be helped by a book that starts
with a suicide
Third of four poems written this morning.
I decided to get out of my weekend blue funk by listening to the audiobook of Christopher Moore's inspired insanity, namely his book "The Lust Lizard of Melancholy Cove," which may well be the funniest book I've ever read.  
Naturally, having read the book around ten years ago, I completely forgot that the book opens with a suicide, which of course struck me as hilariously funny in context.  
Especially since depression - namely the depression gripping the whole town - figures prominently in the story.  
Yeah, I'm weird.  ;-)
Next page