Best Disembowelment Poems
[To the editor of the classified section:
please run the following in the Events Section each week]
Symposia, symposia, symposia now every week
We’ll hold them every Saturday in the new lot by Ocean Way
There will be experts every day on everything from Z to A
For anything that you might seek; here’s just a few so take a peek:
How best to eat fiddlehead ferns and how to file tax returns,
R/C flying, knot untying, poison oak identifying,
T-shirt dyeing, deep fat frying, public grant requalifying.
There’s something new at every turn; you never know what you might learn.
Pilates, crafting, self-defense – the list goes on and never ends –
Puppet making, picture taking, ways to stop your bones from aching,
Money making, undertaking, even easy-oven baking.
Latest fads and newest trends, so come on out and bring your friends.
[Please also include this underneath in the smallest font available (readability is not a consideration)]
$100 charge (non-refundable) will be collected prior to admission. The symposia coordinator will not be held liable for any damages to you or your loved ones including (but not limited to), general malaise, upset stomach, accidental (or intentional) disembowelment, spontaneous combustion, or death.
8.30.18
Contest: SYMPOSIA
Sponsor: Julia Ward
Guy in Guantanamo
Catherine’s wheel spins round the revolution ever since that day her lover died
when both lost the plot and their passion and she cried her grief into Bedlam
Guy jumped to his death to avoid torture hanging in quarters and disembowelment
gonads stuffed into his mouth like hot chestnuts did not appeal much I suppose
He had been a sparkler cracker Jack out of that ordinary box a hero martyr terrorist
criminal but one woman’s arsonist is another one’s flame hot passion crusader of love
Same smoke screens for religion and dogma today with mouldy gunpowder exchanged
for suicide bombings and some misguided faith merely faithful to death and destruction
When lighting a bonne fire today and caught on the ‘right’ side of evil trading life for
collateral damage oiling power in the name of wheel’s fortune and hegemony’s axes
Medals glory decorations await the champion wielding drone’s buttons for the sake of
remote controlled ‘democracy’ but when found reading the Koran Guantanamo beckons
Legality outsourced to Caribbean delights with water music suited for rackets and rockets
of massive destruction and Monopoly played in the board rooms of walled streets where
Playing with fire one does not hear Catherine’s pleas to have mercy without victor’s justice
and as of today I still do not know whether we celebrate Guy’s death or his disorderly guts
Effigies sizzling on feu de joie do not sit well with my statutes and statues of liberty when
hypocrisy measures with double standards and when two wrongs surrender what’s right
15th November
i've always believed that love lost is unpleasant,
painful as little as a lachrymal biopsy,
and as much as an emotional disembowelment
or lobotomy of the heart.
i am told that a love who walks out or finds love,
initiates a season of mourning and pain.
tears.
fears.
loneliness.
isolation.
abandonment.
uncertainty.
depression.
forsaken.
unlovely.
unwanted.
betrayed.
damn.
but, what if, just what if love lost is wisdom gained?
what if abandonment was the necessary path to faith?
or uncertainty the road to confidence?
should i have regrets about the past?
should i doubt that all things are predestined?
and should i lament providence through pain?
all for a purpose,
i have no regrets.
if i must suffer betrayal, loneliness, and love lost
to vividly and fully taste the rich and textured beauty of life,
and if i must endure betrayed affection,
in order to understand having it,
then may i lose love, time and again;
i choose to frolic and freely swim in the tides of depletion,
i submit to its tornadic and hurricanic winds;
and i yield to its tsunamic waves.
letting go of loss.
the winds carry its despair.
the waves swallow its torment.
to wash and rain cupid upon fertile hearts.
love lost is inoculation for my soul,
it bleeds,
it wounds,
it swells.
but averts phlegmatic infections and rigor mortis de la coeur.
so love lost becomes gain,
and gain loves again.
Midnight to dawn, our instruments work;
Exploratory surgery on heart and mind;
Sharpened words slicing skin and nerve;
Poking, prodding, invading, always bleeding.
Tissue splits, guts spill, the heart hemorrhages;
The most vulnerable specialists, we are terminal;
In dark corners, we write our eulogies in rhymes,
Red neon on silver canvas, ancient marquee signs.
We welcome strangers and friends into our dens,
An impetuous invitation to a desperate bloodletting,
Or for the most morose poet, a public disembowelment;
Our pretty pen dancing, piercing a hemorrhaging heart.
Drop Zone
(contest entered “Make their jaws drop”)
Singing and her little jaw dropping and closing for tune and
amazing melodies enchanting the maize to mature
Fatima was herding the sheep after school
beautiful a child of nature innocent humming
Just one animal at a time nurtured wandering
wondering slaughtered sacrificed in time for food
when water would come for the garden and soul
the thunder approaching bringing gifts droplets of growth
Heaven ignited a lullaby combusting when explosive torrents descended
liquefied imprinted her little mind again and once more
The bombs brought tears and fears desolation
fire shrapnel on impact from Gods of greed and exploitation
Fatima’s tune and prayers stopped in time for sheepish
scattering shattering bleeding disembowelment
Her jaw dropped one final time when the bones crushed
and she and her dismembered jaw fell to the ground
27th May 2016
Mind's thinking ever watchful,
ever wary conceiving
conspiracy behind
lies spewed for consumption
to calm
to placate
to wait
for twenty years to pass
and Truths then revealed
after many deaths and
the passing voyeur vanished.
Mental disembowelment
requiring a surrendered
collective consciousness
to numb
to deny
to writhe
as the next tempest arises
unconcerned with
integrity or history or
the voyeur who reappears
and sneers
as the loss of innocence
consumes a mind thinking.
Enemies won't spare those brave; by
opting seppuku, chose to die
never bothered.
Seppuku was not to commit,
‘twas to perform, ought to befit
ever honoured.
Event was part of more detail
ritual done outdoor; great tale
for rest to learn.
Performed before viewer to spread
the message for future; bloodshed
by best no spurn.
~*~*~
Note:: Seppuku sometimes known as hara-kiri, which is a native Japanese form of ritual suicide by disembowelment.
It was originally reserved for Samurai.