Short Bombarding Poems

bluish seagulls encroach
the greenish out fields of
torture bestowing the lamented
souls pickled thoughts
bizarre regiments of
curious wants bombarding
the elements of vernacular needs
i shed tears of blood
on your decorated tomb...

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No way to escape the 
bills bombarding the mail box;
raping the truck that delivers.
Everyone needs a piece,
 I am running out of limbs
"What do you do for a living?"
I eat, drink, and sleep.
I am told to work, to make others 
money while I pay bills

If you dont agree
well than 
your a


 bum...

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Failing to comprehend the wickedness of mankind...
today with no solutions,
Deep breathing to destress myself
governing pollutions.
Bombarding my psyche
attacking my drive,
The greatest test in life
to purely stay alive.
Breathe slowly, Breathe slowly
now passing through the odd...
though the devil has his children
Still, I remain with God....

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Bombarding the bong like oxygen is wrong 
drinking alcohol like you’re a bottomless hole,
The speed the base the MDMA
the pace of life wastes you away
cocaine and ecstasy 
next day looking wrecked to me
Ketamine replaces vitamins 
face changes, unrecognisably 
Why buy more supplies 
When supplies die off 
and you die slow 
Unhappy unless under the influence, 
life caught up in the drug undertow...

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As I am here surrounded by the Numbness
of tree trunks -  still and nameless in the breeze -
A Willow weeping  crystals of uncertain
Bombarding a century that does not belong to me
 
But I AM here surrounded by the people
who blindly thrust my chest  and leave the broken thorns
and no one cares when mutilating names of lovers
How hurtful is when carving in immortality  of bark...
 
copyright@iolandascripca2012...

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silver swords strike
red mountain
exposing the night

flash bang x-rays
bombarding my soul
rattling windows

tin roof deluge 
staccato 
gushing down my heart
cleansing the gutters

spring shower
desert gold 
invigorating my spirit
renewing cactus flowers

fragrant fresh morning
tender breath from above
gentle sun warming 


red blossom dripping
sweet nectar of heavenly love 
wee hummer sipping...

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On a horse I watch as the rain comes down hard
Water comes pelting onto my skin, I’m lost
Storm enters full force with winds lifting skyward
Lightning comes with amazing strength, I am tossed
The storm rages on, fiercely bombarding me
With awesome horizontal rain blasting free
Hurting me and my soul by the wind’s grand source
The storm’s massive destruction by its dealt force

Russell Sivey...

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Water-lily,
Floating on the ice-blue sea,
Away from your homeland.
Leaving thin, red, trails as you go.
Steering among the foreign, black-seal-dotted icebergs.
Electric-white lightening flashing,
And the chill of the Arctic winds,
Bombarding from all directions.
As you long for,
The lily-pad life,
Its comfort and kinship,
Now, but a past possession.
I, do, too.
Let us stiffen our lips,
Tighten our collars,
And dream....

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I see my thoughts as pictures,
yet try to explain them in words,
limited by a set of rules,
bound and strangled by nouns, adjectives
and verbs.

I feel emotions as intense waves
bombarding my psyche,
and weights upon my soul,
yet try to express them with symbolic
patterns on paper.

I live in a world of abstracts;
feelings; sensations; moods;
unable to say what is in my thoughts
and being,
as words alone are not enough....

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People are crying, children are dying
People surround and the baby is crying.
Blow your mind it's dinnertime
sit around and watch the world go by
Blow your mind it's dinnertime
why do we sit and watch the world die?
Children are starving, armies bombarding
Countries blown up and the president's starring.
Blow your mind it's dinnertime
sit around and watch the world go by.
Blow your mind it's dinnertime
sit around and watch the world die....

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Juxtaposed along the way, another voice declares
“Time exists for recompense not finding fault with heirs”

Time remains a fleeting whyle, all hopelessly bombarding
Time so swiftly punishes, all happy disregarding

Time proceeds invisible, the master sure and humble
Against the clock the living swear, in darkness forward tumble

The rising sun reminding all that time is ever true
Make time your greatest friend of all, get on reviving you...

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The internet has morphed
into a fickle friend,
warping reality
in many subtle ways
that no one could foresee.

The internet has morphed
into a smart machine
that tells you what to do;
bombarding you with posts
that only tout one view.

The internet has morphed
into a confidant
a sympathetic ear, 
and an omnipresence
with an emoji tear.

The internet has morphed
into a neighbor with
its own identity,
in a fictional place
selling serenity.


...

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You don’t consume a second meal
Before the first’s digested.
Your senses need some time to sort
The tastes you’ve just invested.

The same holds true for things you see
Or places where you travel.
Experience requires time
To stick, or might unravel.

When news is gotten, good or bad,
It takes a little while
To seep inside and be absorbed
In your specific style.

You cannot rush the process;
It may sometimes be quite slow,
But bombarding of the body
Or the mind’s not how to go....

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