Picking Up Pieces

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Below is my collection of poetry about Ukraine, Russia's War in Ukraine, or NAFO.

If you are looking for  [[limerick|limericks]] they are on another page. As always you can request or [[giftapoem|gift a poem]] with donation.

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<code>
  we collect cross-stitched
senses of self as
Poetry unfolds patterns
anomalies commonly 
dawn on we
only when they see
wisp lines of truth
from benign even
  weave in Needle minders
of time
   written
in wings of a moth
made of aida cloth
  Basting in banality
  In a finality of moments
 that break with reality
form and function
 two rings who fit
 meaning
playing at schemes of
 morality
anomalies an allowance
Seams cutting at edge
of normality
Poetry is the prick of
history
</code>

<code>
Who fund these
digital assassins
bonking with mystical
passion?
 Myths of
whimiscal trysts to
brick predictable 
tricks
of war criminals
who misshapen
 is fashioned
as NAFO
unfastens
the lies
 dragging
miseries of
histories for
these more equal
 piggies honk our conch
as they damn well please
Bringing enemies to 
their knees
NAFO bonks hard
and our kisses taste like
your mom
</code>


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written February 24, 2022

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<code>
A global horde of
memetic Methodius
seeding Cyril's florettes
of freedom
on phonemes of the absurd.
 Each barb carrying
 a spark of Olah's 
   seed
seeking
 Accursed nonsense, insatiate
 A perfidous serpent
  crucifying sense
  sliced by Kosynsky's Klowns
and on both banks
truth and freedom flow
</code>

{{:fordaynlo.png?600|}}

<code>
Unheard savagery
Glares from history’s
 silver laced eyes
Pointed to 
Hollowed skies
Painted by tyrants who see
babes but vessels
To torture in vassal states 
And rip Peace
Bank to bank
Sirens wail,
Sounds drill in bits turning on echos
Of shattered pasts.

Ripping
Into ears as 
Silver sleeves
Streak across shrouded 
Clouds and torture now
Descends from heavens 
above

Repeated history whips 
 Butchering facts in relentless
Attacks on veins running deep
In partitioned bodies of
Children and Nations

Promises of forked tongues 
Deliver silver drenched
Sons and a 
Nation undone

Until Brave Act
Carve
Ultimus pacta
Carried on backs of loved 
Ones

Raskol’ini
nasha nalsyia

No Pacta
Et conditones
Just victory for
 the fallen
And a call for 
Children to come
Home.
</code>

<code>
Fellas
 develop
medicinal plates
of ceramic pfp
enhancements to allow
minimal enchantments
of liminal
 distate
in fates of info 
spaces dripped
 in
  subliminal
hymnals 
sung in
 criminal
tongues through
 imbecile debates
of truncated
  principles
Ostinatos of
emaciated
 play dough
  reshaped
to rape, and reap
hate
  in disinfo spaces
disgraces in 
    cadence
nested in
  cradle of
     tonality
serving
  festering ladles
dripping in pronounced
nonsense
  sipping on the
soup of my enemy
</code>

<code>
Mathematical fools
Not to assume
Renisannce Tools
maybe but a prism
of Berezovsky's jewels
For it is unmathematical
for mathematics to stay
unreplicable
through unforeseen
strings of regression to the
mean
When returns seem
laudable, almost
unplausible 
a causable catalyst
maybe be Blat met
the Capitalist
for a company of 
mathematicians
to always outperform
competition is unmathematical
market forces, that
courses through the Heritage
of such Foundations
</code>

<code>
:?:
semiotics of 
kicking signs
to the Greek
and Locke and
leaving indigenous
semiotics and symbols
unsought
left
off the clock 
symptomatology
of measuring blocks
rocks of gray matter
in Bell curve splatters
meaning is kinda fleeting
Hella rude to leave it up
to Dead White Dudes
As forces
cast spells
atop of 
semiospheres
to spread
bubbles of fear
pushing dopamine
and cortisol
portals of lies
through refactored
eyes 
narrative boundary 
of understanding
derived in
biological. Are we but
surplus value of code?
Piercing de Saussure
plowshare of authors
tug on metaphor
which Lakov roots
in Chekov's metaphors
and Alice's endless doors
Derrida cried
Signifier and signified,
Fishing in triadic views
that allow outside
to skew the pews
of neatly packed ideas
in Churches of the mind
More Us
echoes
in Semiological 
Guerrilla Warfare
flare
as Angry
Place
 Faith in Fakes.
  interpretive
Slate of 
a Rose by 
any name
  so Azov with
the clothes off
 painted in
fake shames
of Pink Nazis
in shades of 
deep state 
blues For
Traditions can't
 flirt with Frankfurt
get a clue
</code>
{{ :semioticsgetaclue.mp3 |}}

<code>
Twist around Interstices
that fold between
spaces
to spot patterns
existing since
provenance
</code>

<code>
For a fallen Wolf
Echoes of
 Broken ripples, 
circles splayed. 
Collapsing in on
 time,  songs of
fallen
Crest back into
future reflections in 
 A  Hero's
Shadow casting
umbras of light
Dancing on lips dipped in
tales once
Whispers of valor
 Now Tidal Forces
In cacophonies
Of the Free
</code>

<code>
Sasha
 felt need to speak
turning to you with anxiety
 about 
mass media
warned you rightist 
forces will not easily give up
Restore order in 
 mass media.
Literární listy, Mlada fronta,  Reporter, Prace
every day 
publishing
 anti-Soviet and 
anti- party articles
</code>

<code>
what does it 
 mean to meme
 meaning of 
utterances in a
 sputtering of
nonludic 
discourses dancing
in
abhorrent metaphors
 of mixed meaning
seeing concrete, pragmatic
effects of
taking a brick to the 
dome?
</code>

<code>
What is a
 N
    A 
        F
          O
             ?
Fellas be
Tipsy 
  Topsy
eurytopy
  stenotopic
Bonkers.

 Adapted to 
Brick a
 Cyclic Disturbance,
an abundance of
nonsense,
 successions 
of projections in
epidemics
of Vatnik
Pronunciation.
</code>

<code>
Some hold no 
pens
gravity
pulls weights
of meaning, beyond
standard of 
ink, Well of
words defying
boundaries, waves
of allusion crafting
new constraints
in war torn histories.
painting miseries with
meaning
 Allowing hope
to crack despondent
darkness
That's Victoria
</code>

<code>
Inconvenient Existence
chasing a  false
brilliance in  face of 
persistent resistance 
to spews of 
incomprehensible
 evidence cast
at distant audiences.
A subsistence on nonsense
in hope of another
remittance. A Pittance for pestilence
at Providence of
Incompetence
</code>


<code>
I do not know
in spin networks
of memes
where
Loop quantum gravity
marks a fold of
Space-time
origins of beginning 
as a container of
counting  towards an end
is two
or two more
 and moar too
</code>

<code>
We dance
in steps more
than signifier and
sign.

 Fires and sickles
in bifurcated
illustrations
by forsaken 
exploration of
tattered 
brushes, bristles
cracked and
 hardened

more scores of
scars on canvas
 fanning splashes
of dry reality
</code>

<code>
For KTARD
Art
 picks
at surface
scratches
scabs of pains 
 interface.
human
 condition 
encased
    in shades of meanings 
broken
cracked oil pastels and 
charcoal shaving pushed 
 to the floor
burying scars deeper
 without believing in a 
beauty you just
  captured 
</code>

<code>
On shores
 of ancient
rivers, rise
banks
 of humanity
now swallowed
Bosmina once gatheres
at Barriers of Barbaric
Design
Scars thrice
 ripped open
Ancient trails
 extolled by Stabo
and paths transversed
 by Pliny the Younger
Gone
Now torrents of misery
wrought by monsters
as immovable walls
 reflect an evil 
so deep

Gentle sloping fields
used to sing to wide valleys
songs carried by Greylong Geese til
sun fades on whistles of Night Herons
Now voices washed 
away
but our
soul still flies
</code>

<code>
n cosmic knowledge
  politics
means anything
but a forgiven
 sin as
laws of
 ascent
do not descend
 from a March on
Rome.

Nor slip off lips
of technologists
tweaking  words
at world's abyss
Divine does not sink
on an 
 empirical existence
or evil
 only begins
when one
grasps
 a weighted folly
nature, God, and
self part and parcel
to a lost essence
in Hegel's Waiting Room
hoping to hold THE Rose in
place
et fated 
    in concrete
seal
nothing
   more
than a rabid
dog descending on 
Human nakedness
too diseased to see their
demise
as our only
cure.
</code>

<code>
Scripts drip
in accidental
plays
as
pages soaked
in blood and soil
turn, a
third
 theater
burns,
 and the children
cry

a 2-bit
critic, with
reflexive twists;
dark doing in light 
what 
light only does
in dark
when curtains
burn
and the 
children
cry

death 
told in
discourses of
 corrective 
masculine.
 measures and 
acts in tongues of
 nihilistic
danger
 of deconstruction
of a Nation's
story
told in dominant
voices, forgotten
who will hear us,
indeed?
spotlights fade
and the 
children
cry

nd when cast and crew
pooled amongst fools
Crazy Eights  in
14 words bound to
happen
and the
children
cry

By the third
act
relevance done
and now the gun
points at you
(and the
children
smile)
</code>

<code>
bourgeois ideologists
who
dine on
 bacon fat
of Marx's
Paradox
sail two 
harbors of
 inevitable
possibilities
bouncing on
waves
of
 proletariat
subjectivity
in tides pulling
contradictions
 of grift
as science
says alienation
must get worse,
an immiseration
of modern
</code>

<code>
Pixels and
    proposals
dance between
probable,
  improbable
toes
skipping
 scales
tipping
norms of science
and stolen
appliances
oscillating between
phenomenons of
interesting 
messaging awash
   in improbability
I 
    wonder
if one measures
 the improbability 
of wonder has
one  wandered
 in error into
probabilities
of impossible 
  measures in
one type or
 another
moments of
  atonement
in Pagan casts
 of Roman
villains of
 modernity
as Pilgrims bore
you by tick in our  bosses
time clock
 hands buttery
in Bougie Biscuits on
  Brodway
takes of the industrious
 risk yet clipped
 to a phone
  call of unfinished
futures 
incompatible
   moments to
contradict divergent
    truths
of markets of
 Brokered Identities in
Broken reflections
 cast on shards
 of total
   transformation
</code>

<code>
seeking
functionalist
junction of
 modern
cogs on wheels
on cogs in 
 systems in
systems in
 cogs on wheels
on cogs
modern
 of
  junction
Functionalist
seeking
he
forgotten
Spencer of not,
knotted 
 in a Principled
Life, draped in an 
outfit for survival
in tongue
twisted
 evolution of
liars
who desire to
clip identities in
 a unifying
bind, of oops
sorry had to 
leave you 
behind
 your truth
did not 
   fit
mine
Rats
 sell us
living space
  rented in 
bio engineered
 realities of minds who
mind that mine gets
defined 
by force of
 expansion as
   States above us
promulgate symbols
 and symptoms
 among us
  so sus
Modernity
  burps
as Bendix's
Appendices
Burst, in
natural 
extended
pressures of 
faculties
 left undeveloped
an invisible hand
at right of the
almighty
 commercialization
when my own
thoughts are
not 
 in
 harmony as
celebrated serfs
who toil in Jungles of
Chi-town
Distrust dips
into dialectical
dances and
 claims
We
 must drain
it all for 
development
as reactionay
forces drill
holes in buckets,
to duck
 modernity's
 toil
and blame someone
else for soaked
soil
Discourses
 of interpretivism
cast modernity
as an approaching
 calamity, an evil
cast in light, and
must save us from
  instrumental 
rationality
 in praxis 
of truth
 lost in 
consensus
of continuous
redefining 
realities
around me
Post modern
  fools
  with tools
of deconstruction
requires
thrusts at
corrections 
 in desire Nihilistic 
 critical stances and who knows
 whats in their pantses
 bind our time and place
to chronotope
prisons seen through
western forced
prisms shatter other
worldings
on the farm
all pigs
are equal
 as all classes
toil 
clocks
 clicking 
to noises
of sunrise
earth is our
fertility
and makes fruit
ripen while
vines of modern
producers
no longer, as in the fields,
a sovereign and free father of a family, no alphas
in Modern Family
</code>

<code>
Two songs
 sung
 Sons drowned
 in silver
tongues
 and
Princes
undone
A bow,
Now,
 to
tyranny 
no wave 
washes
such bite
  of broken
promises
until jaws of
time
 ripped
fang-less in
our
 future
</code>

<code>
As Gogol
  Guzzles
 gold of sold
arguments
    young hang
 from
   gallows
swinging on

 guilt 
of
an aged 
   gilded 

who dine with
 Ghosts when
God gets past
unlatched gates
  of felled
ideas
 forgotten
</code>

<code>
Viscous
Biscuits
Of our
 Brains
Often
 Cant handle
Mandibles
 Of facts
That extract
 Truths
Regurgitated,
evaporated
From swirls
In nectar
That dance in false 
colors
All  around.
So some get fated to
Exasperated flapping
To  keep colonies from
Collapsing
 By cooling combs
And tomes of 
energy
Immune to enemies
Who douse
Langstroth houses
In mistruths
Spewed from 
Louses 
To protect
A honey
As We.
Content
among  flowers
that surround. 
</code>

<code>
A broken Birch
 branch
scoured in tooth
spurge shadows
cast
 dancing
dirges of besmirched
towers 
Canopy snapping fingers in 
rhythms that linger,
Yet
we do not hear
on verge of surging
into  submerging folds
of deciduous matter
But
for now suspended
in broken
reality
</code>

{{:shatteredoak.jpg?600|}}

<code>
Shattered 
  signals
dangle in eerie
peace found
 only in erasure
 when life
fought out of
existence
for only wires
dance now
dangling
 moving gently
in winter's breeze
tossing shadows on
cast iron
fence bent
fingers 
scraping
humanity's
garden
 overgrown
with shrapnel
 and rebar
iodizing vines
festering atop
cinder blocks
and glass
of empty boxes
blown out
windows 
to look upon 
a courtyard crushed
Yet 
the Oak
where the children play
It still stands
</code>

<code>
to hedge
a bet
at precipice
of humanity
 despots pour
porridge of 
insanity
 which
alleges
knowledge at
ledges and
 wedges
that dredge
 the lowest
common
 denominator

Sludge drudged
for haters
and splainers

The loons who
swoon 
  over
Buffoons
 and goons
Yet
do not judge
nor condemn
 who holds
the spoon
for it is the Chef
who deftly poisons
truth as a hedge
against reality
</code>