My family is a car,
It runs smoothly if all are present
My dad is the engine, strong and smooth
He runs the car and is the powerhouse.
Without him, the car would stall
Because he makes the decisions
And he runs the household
My mom is the wheels
She drives the car
To wherever it is needed
She checks the decisions and has her say
So to question her is a nay
Because without the wheels, the car can’t go
My grandmother is the windows
She gives us advice
Whenever needed, she lets the air flow
So we can think clearly
Thanks to her wisdom
My brother is the brakes and accelerator
Because he’s the youngest
When he’s hyped, the car speeds across
But when he’s sad, the car slows down to a halt
So, that little mood meter is just as important
Then there’s me
I’m the other stuff
The seats, the lights, the comfort
Without me, the car won’t feel like a car
Because I help make the car feel like home
So my family is in a car,
Run’s smooth if we’re all present
We need each other, just as much as ourselves
The ancient alchemists truly had the right ideas,
With knowledge in science, philosophy and mysticism.
They pursued a recipe for a phenomenal universal elixir
Which would cure all our un-eases.
Or spiritual enlightenment for all.
But I think the most fascinating critical thinking
Is the idea that this chemist of sorts,
Could take a base metal like lead,
And somehow miraculously transform it to gold.
So, weird, surreal and remarkable, outside of the box!
Then time moves on and ideas that sounded
Ridiculous get recycled and rehashed.
Their misinformed unscientific theories,
Somehow, make it full circle.
Today we know they were on to something.
All they needed back then was to create a nuclear reaction
In a particle accelerator like the large Hadron Collider.
But although the idea is solid
The amount of energy it takes to create
The smallest little bit of unstable gold.
I think going forward our energy may be best spent.
Seeking their other endeavor
Spiritual Enlightenment!
Driver on interstate has pressed his accelerator hard
I used to drive like that – daily
To and from work with gritted teeth
Expecting death at any minute
Racing here, there, nowhere really
The stress was gruesome
In the last nine months I have driven six times
Less than one time per month
Retirement is a happy unicorn that I am grateful to lie on
I am orange red and yellow
Swirling in enthusiasm
Excited about life
A cartoonist, painter, writer
Possibly a poet,
Somedays much better than others
My life has gone by quickly
I have survived many car wrecks
Thanks to a heavy accelerator foot
I feel lucky, maybe invincible
Can I be killed?
I doubt it
I incorporate fun in my life daily
Loving the real me
When you need to yell?
Nothing else will really calm you.
Your flash flood can’t be held.
Those words that are tar on your throat
linger on a self inflicted ball gag;
You just won’t walk out of silence;
Man, I absolutely love an uncivilized
scream in my car;
Wandering through the house with keys
you’ve become frozen in place;
Tearing up a piece of paper everyday
you take out rage on something tangible;
It helps but only just to the side of relief.
Really what you want is to punch a wall
or shatter a vase all over the floor;
Still all you need is a full tank of gas;
Man, I absolutely love an uncivilized
scream in my car;
With just one touch on the accelerator
everything is finally able to be freed;
The death grip on that steering wheel
is all you need to finally set yourself free;
Don’t ever ignore your anger,
just go explore a brand new back road.
Man, I absolutely love an uncivilized
scream in my car.
Retirement's the time to slow things down
Take your foot off the accelerator pedal
If not, would you at least settle
for slipping out of your wedding gown
Running out of road, windshield wipers are useless for tears
Close my eyes and count to… not yet! reaper hasn’t appeared
Lights flashing across the dashboard, warning indications
Speedometer reads a ton, don’t care for vindication
Stripping back life
for all to see
The lake below
reflecting me
Going over the escarpment, free falling through a cloud
Brakes I leave redundant, accelerator screams out loud
Weightless grow my memories, the rear view mirror is bleak
Exterior one’s more streamlined, if a little oblique
Dug my own hole
admission’s free
Revealed the sin
got the car key
Not much on the horizon, seen a few birds here and there
Was playing around for a long time, now she’s gone elsewhere
And our song’s on the radio, I’ll never hear it end
(Stairway to heaven) rifts in stasis, just as I transcend
Oblivion
nihility
A growing bump
delivery
Hey! who’s that smiling lady, pushing me along the street
I look out from the pram, peekaboo! my heart skips a beat…
Lynette was attached to the ambiance of the seventies.
She had a shag rug with large loops and flecks of silver.
Bulb like globs floated in her six lava lamps.
She replaced her accelerator pedal with a weird bare foot pedal.
Her house featured peace signs, happy faces, and free love slogans.
My favorite piece was a Volkswagen bus planter that yelled “perky”.
But in actuality, I liked the entire set up – her car and her house.
Conversations are mostly friendly
Vacate my mind
Inhale passing clouds
Avoid taxes and the police
Trouble with me is ~
The envelope arrives like a meteor
Foreign, inalienable & free
Fatal attractions devour my obsessions
Raw honey is good for you
Accelerator gets stuck to the floor
Flies buzzing everywhere
Newscasts parrot the script...
"The innocent man was pushed
on to the tracks
Heroes jumped in to save him
more news at 10"
1/9/23
12:47am
When I hear you say, “have patience,”
I want to tell you about the wheel and the mule -
when both stop, both die a little.
Then there are the sailing boat sails
when the wind stops.
Then there are marbles
when thrown they are lively,
kept in a jar – not so much.
Patience is some kind of virtue that religious people
rage about on Sundays.
I have noticed that they thump that biblical text
like they have zero patience.
I want passion, the way
a bad steak needs ‘A1’ or brown sauce.
Handles are also made
so folks like me can occasionally fly off them.
When the world began
not one molecule of life had one bit of patience,
and we are still figuring out
ways to press that accelerator harder.
Before penning, I see
myself with engine running...
foot tensed – ready to pounce
on the accelerator, at the fall
of the muse's flag; for a poem
really writes itself – a hand behind
the hand; the empty necessary
before each manic-gush – the art
of poetry, more a preparation
than a study; recommending
only the formless...as man
written by a God
of infinite Works --
I took a three-day trip
in my Kombi
across the vast
Nullabor Plain
tree-less and
deserted.
I crossed it in the 1980's
before it was
bituminized.
I was told to take
these three essential things:
a house brick
a thick blanket
a dwell meter / timing light.
The brick was to keep
the accelerator flat-out on.
The road was dead straight
for miles and miles and miles,
one stretch 90 miles long
without a single bend.
The blanket covered my head
while I used the
dwell meter / timing light
to adjust the
ignition point timing
by rotating the distributor.
The dust meant that the timing
fell out, time after,
time after time.
These spells for
dwell checks
did the trick.
May I taste the unbreakable bond to the perfect union of
Uni and quail eggs.Two true dancers
Stir vigorously
Agitate rice while it absorbs fish stock
May I never acknowledge obstacles to the perfect union of
Uni and sake.Two adventurers
Interlock freely
Fine-tuning Español while rice grains formulating starches
Inevitable extrovert – against all odds
Be Still:
Clouds cuddling while interexchange liveliness
Simply being still ~
Sounds of silence penetrates through skin into core existence.
Fusing breathes onto
Singularity – infinite dense core – falling and falling in, falling high,
Floating and floating deep, floating beyond general theory of relativity
Insanely radiant in seventh heaven melting into ashes,
Carbon.
Grilling in underpants under the moonlight, starlight, flashlight.
Choose this Mentally Sensitive trail by act of will.
Touch the natural color of faith
Or fear
Trust unknown territory of inner compass to Fill a void
Yes, you may ride the accelerator to the perfect union of
Professor and entrepreneur.
What’s more:
Maybe quail eggs lead to turkey sandwiches and squash blossom.
GOD PARTICLE
Bombardment on Atom at random
within Particle Accelerator
did miracle!
Fundamental Particle
came up.
Higgs- Boson and so on.
Scientists to nod.
No connection with God.
May be nick named
‘God Damn Particle.’
Social Media to commit:
The word ‘Damn’ to omit.
The name ‘God Particle’
got Universal fame
in magical game.
Populace too pleased to find GOD.
07/19/20
'Strand Completely New (11)' Contest by Brian Strand
In a stormy night in the Island of the Gods, he knew he lost,
He went out speeding up the gas to pass his anger,
The fear was released with the accelerator,
His wounds mount with every brake press,
Those trapped tears leak with the wind,
He drives on a slippery road, every time he feels the risk,
He reminds himself of his beloved family back home waiting for a phone call to cheer them up, and the anger he would face in all cases when he gets back home,
No escape whether he is back in one or few pieces, she won’t let it pass, but he knows he has to be back to her in the best possible shape,
So from time to time, she can shatter him the way she wants.
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