I am an appendage.
I am a tool.
I am his accompaniment.
I am an addition.
I am an attachment.
I am the accretion formed from abuse.
I am nothing without him to tell me what I am worth.
I am only something when he loves me.
I am only worth anything when I am convenient.
I am supposed to be enjoyable.
I am supposed to be to his benefit.
I am supposed to be easy.
I am supposed to satisfy.
I am supposed to be useful.
I am told to be practical.
I am told to be appropriate.
I am told to be available.
I am told to stay mute.
I am told to be passive.
I am told to submit.
I am a person.
I am feeling.
I am alive.
I am not his appendage.
I don't have to be a wife before I am myself.
Before I am happy.
I am tired of how I am treated.
I am ready to be a combatant.
I am ready to accept the bruises if it is for the last time.
I am ready to feel like me again.
I want to be me again.
Neutron binary star collision
Drifting in the ether, most of my adult life
Drawn toward a magnetar, she's a prototype
Exotic matter unimaginable, powerless to repress
Mercurial wondrous, one time star has turned goddess
Imploded onto my scene, light weeks ago
Contains only neutrons, emits an ovulating glow
Trapped in her energy, I've become a willing feeder
Stripping off my outer layers, every orbit I come nearer
Accretion disc envelopes me, she siphons off my matter
Relentlessly devouring, inexorably I'm growing flatter
An inverted death embrace, drains the life from me
Oozing radioactive plasma, overcome by gravity
Nothing left to give our marriage, togetherness remain
Resting on her surface, satisfying each others pain
Pulsating forever, orgasming every few seconds
Lovers radiate jets, ejaculation going errant
Originally written 08/30/21
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 10 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mark Toney
07/27/22
A speck in the inflated universe,
born of Big Bang cosmic accretion,
in my Andromeda astral abode
on space odyssey I drifted away.
Energy lost, turning to a white dwarf,
sucked by the hollow in black hole,
I disappeared uncounted eons ago,
sprouted as a new star in another galaxy.
But I still shine in your seamless sky,
my virtual silver dust drizzles
across light years on lovers’ hearts,
entwined by threads of apparent love.
July 6, 2020
Contest : You Are A Star
Sponsor : Nina Parmenter
long term thinking is a creator of appetite
but brain chemistry can play tricks
like a rattlesnake bite can play tricks
once you toss your conscience into the gutter
and the desire for being the most free
becomes last year's wavy banner fallen
venom fresh in the blood of life
parasitic feeble deprived and manacled
where free enough is free enough
leaving behind far less collateral dementia
the old school vs. the new school
which is which it's hard to tell
barking dogs from mewing cats any longer
the spilt shadows are that long
the tapping of striped canes that grim
the gullible have erected a stockade
because mama loves her babies
an accretion of idiocy by definition
it comes down to people don't know
long since sent to the evaporation pools
where permanent revolution is still a thing
and the Wurlitzer dialectic see saw
is a steam locomotive straining for traction
against the sparking anvil of the elder ironsmith
shoveling party slogans into the boiler
as if they were the color of sky
rather than a long dark gestation
now skipping and tooting down Elm St.
Miranda orbits along a path of time and ice
Rotating Uranus almost in her retrograde near by
Moves upside down while dancing with the stars
On the ecliptic, by the equator they go on
The belly of the Milky highway arises
From our perspective everything is right
An accretion disc forms flat against the black
There is nothing wrong with that
Miranda stands but as a dot, small, almost invisible
Undetected by the naked eye
As she meanders through the universe unlighted
Scarred for life, etched out collisions with the night
Carved rocks on surfaces for what it's worth
Peculiar yet beautiful in the dark
Held in line, perpendicular to the solar sinking plane
In the grip of time, in the hold of Uranus's tidal forces
Sidled in proximity to her companion built of ice and gas
Life itself should be so large, to have a giant world with you
Made of blue to go through life through
Marching to the tune of equilibrium
It is her game. It is her name, Miranda Anonymity
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Miranda_(moon)#/media/File:PIA18185_Miranda's_Icy_Face.jpg
PSYCHIATRISTS’ SONG
Let us join in song of praise for all psychosis
It’s the leverage that gives us a good living
With a fragment here of mania or neurosis
That we bevel, hone removing all misgiving
Let it not be said we’re derelict in reason
For committing someone to an institution
For of syndromes we’ve a bountiful accretion
We have voted for and passed by resolution
So take care not to accuse us of a crime
As we relegate to sinkhole a sad creature
For your words betray a sickness we define
You are suffering from illusion - that’s a feature
Submitted for 8 word challenge contest
Words:
psychosis
leverage
fragment
bevel
derelict
resolution
sinkhole
illusion
3 June 2019
I Need The Following
Intellectual stimulation
panorama's dilation's
conversations with less trivia
mind food my criteria
to discuss issues with equality
the fellowship of humanity
...vacuous delusions
peeling paint illusions
munificent liberality
fantasy and realities
a demise in spirituality
semblances of sanity
rebirth of science and reason...
starting from solar accretion
rocks beneath my feet
calcium in my teeth
the brave and the meek
expiration of man's conceit
to understand quantum and constants
enjoy humorous nonsense
then, only then...
maybe
Black, empty, cold and dark
What are you then if not a spark
Of life exists in you,
You pointless mass of infinity?
I don’t see you, yet I have thee in my sights
From some accretion disk or otherwise
Like a churning cauldron from some distant past.
My blood freezes in its paths
When I think of you, and your cruel existence
How you are void of all empathy,vice and insistence
To spaghettiize unwitting partners as in motion
To capture them in a last gasp of elongation
You, you alone of all creation
are the most intense on my imagination
to look too close would surely be
the very end of …. Me.
©Darrell Goddard
I want
intellectual stimulation
panorama and dilation
conversation with less trivia
mind food as criteria
discuss problems with reality
the fellowship of humanity
withering delusions
peeling paint illusions
unstifled liberality
fantasy and reality
decline of spirituality
semblances of sanity
birth of science and reason
solar accretion
the rocks beneath my feet
calcium in my teeth
brave and the meek
origins of my conceit
quantum and constants
unconscious nonsense
Somewhere in the distant rays of light
There seems to be clouds gathering
In ways that utters the daring one
So he walks in the soft brushing grass
That is still moist from the morning dew
So many hours have passed still that feeling is true
Maybe because the sun's presence could only be felt far
The heat parades in the rear of the door
Whose spine is spiraling ideas
Of possibilities, of clues, of unknowns
She feels the energy pulling her
Elegant and her long hair styled back
She continues her walk of dreaming large
Following the shadows of tomorrow
Braving in the eyes of today
The hiding keyhole accumulates dust
Surreal like the clouds, a light accretion
One overcast, one a questionable hole
She feels, he feels the seen
The mind an unseen scene
The mind plays the blank belief
I want
intellectual stimulation
I Want
panorama and dilation
conversations with less trivia
mind food as criteria
discuss the problems with reality
fellowship of humanity
withering delusions
the peeling paint illusions
stifling of liberality
fantasy and reality
decline of spirituality
semblances of sanity
birth of science and reason
solar accretion
the rocks beneath my feet
calcium in my teeth
brave and the meek
origins of my conceit
quantum and constant
conceptual and nonsense
The accretion of a perfect squall
when claws were out-
scavenging novelties. A lewd
paranoia slains a farewell
in a trench. The chamber has
vomited a mound of gold blinding a shell.
The combs did not straighten
the puff. The old man was very lonely.
I would stop hunting the stings
of a bare-chested moon.
I recuse myself from judging the paperboat
which wanted to cross the ocean.
Satish Verma
Through my inspection of the current events,
I make the assumption the world’s gone awry.
If we had the gumption to all live in tents,
Ration our possessions, the world wouldn’t die.
Through my assertions, I urge you to share.
Prohibitions are needed for many the crowd.
Love forms through accretion of natural care.
My intentions are pure that I speak out loud.
My notion this evening, is to make you all ponder.
No instigation, am I trying, nor willing to do.
My infatuation with trying, is so you don’t wander
From the one nation under God, bestowed unto you.