It is humid here
Acid rain slides down the skin
The moon is now green
evil qualmishness
return of jalapenos
my acid reflux
“You look like a ballerina
on acid,”
my loving husband told me
this morning
as we folded a heap
of laundry on the bed.
“Ben is at a sleepover!
I want to dance
to David Bowie!
Is that a problem?”
I can’t help it,
I love to dance.
I told Mark:
“I don’t understand
the suggestion.
I’m not a ballerina
and I’ve never tried
acid.”
“Thank God, Jennifer.
That’s the last thing
you need.
You are high enough
on life as it is.”
“Under the moonlight,
the serious moonlight.”
“Let’s sway.”
What a wonderful
snow day!
My cheap gold necklace
from Temu
is twisted and
knotted loosely
around my neck.
It sparkles
suggestively
when I prance around.
"Let's Dance."
It is nine in the morning
and seven inches of snow
lull the cold soil
back to sleep.
Not me.
I’m dancing
to David Bowie.
Politicians are paid as a last resort
to attend the summit accomplishing nought
but flap their lips expose their gums
feed their face and fill their tums
all the hot air they expend
I don't exaggerate
discussing climate change in the end
will only exacerbate
the ongoing problem long-since forming
a future foreboding of global warming
for every page and pamphlet printed
put in the post or stuck on walls
about ecology and saving the woods
it seems to me yet another tree in the forest falls
and I believe for every drop of acid rain
a flower dies
somewhere under the darkest skies
a new-born baby cries
With apologies to; Ervin Drake, Irvin Graham, Jimmy Shirl & Al Stillman
I used to like an ice-cold strawberry or lime margarita
salt all around the edge of a goblet or mug
If this was unavailable, I might have a white Zinfandel
They are tasty too
If you are young and in good health
As I aged a strange malady happened – acid reflux
I would enjoy liquor going down
but not so much when it came back up
After a few bouts of this, I gave up liquor
It was not worth the horrible, awful aftermath
Question everything.
Reality is slipperier
Than you might think.
Here, here
Have a drink of some electric Kool Aid
With me. Then, tell me what you think.
While our minds are free to explore
Reasoning and understanding goes
Right out the door and
Weird able too see
Why everything seems so basic.
Life is meant to be fun.
Slipperiness is seeing the world questioning everything, everyone and
Don't be so shocked at what you just might see.
Especially, with me.
We can't tell whom we love
Even if someone who chase you
Seems perfect for your choosing
The heart can never be dictated
It's unpredictable when love hit you
It can never tell when and where
The heart fall for someone else
One thing for sure it can never tell
It can strike to fall without warning
The moment someone barge into
Your mind during your time of sleep
That's one clue your heart sense
Start beating uncontrollably mean
Often if you're busy you think of her
In you're free time you think of her
You're cautious when seeing her
Everything around seems topsy-turvy
In her presence or even thinking her
In all of these the heart is happy
This is what I mean to fall in love.
Samuel Langhorne Clemens
had a wit as acidic as a lemon
to many pompous people he was a pain
especially with his pen name Mark Twain
A little spark. A work of art.
She lit the dark and filled my heart.
Around I turned to feel the burn.
There she lies. I’ll never learn.
She huffed and puffed and blew me down.
I was amazed at what I’d found.
She drifted high above the rest
But didn’t pass the acid test.
A little prick under the skin.
It’s quite the trick how she snuck in.
Then through the vein up to the brain
The little things drove me insane.
She soothed and smoothed my troubled brow.
She calmed my nerves, I don’t know how.
She laid me down. I felt so blessed.
But didn’t pass the acid test.
A little sign. A dream defined.
I drew the line there in my mind.
Then, unaware, without a care
I breathed her in like so much air.
She revved me up and sped my pulse.
Somehow, some way she got results.
I must admit, she did impress
But didn’t pass the acid test.
Woke up from deep peaceful sleep
Acid reflux turquoise troubling me
With regret I rethink what'd I eat
Cheesy potato skins culprit me thinks
The food is rebelling behind my breast
Like blue boat sailing in my chest
Gas and vomit won’t let me rest
I must eat better I cranberry confess
acid washed blue jeans
hang on the rusty clothesline
in the morning sun
I used to love juice
acid reflex changed that
after it came back up
going down it was delightful
coming back up
not so much
acid reflex has ruined juice for me
and jalapeno peppers and Cheetos too
(Dark Pool of Light, 2011 original oil)
Acid and Alkali Dreams
Two sides
Of the same coin
Through different filters
Day and night
Pure and adulterated
Sweet and sour
Slippery and sharp
Regular and extra-ordinary
Working together
To keep the balance
By keeping us always
A little off
Neither this nor that
Always some doubt
On the spectrum of possibility
Dancing with the Moonlit Knight
This bittersweet
Specter
Of day
(11/28/23)
Hydrochloric acid fell on my hands and my eye
The sharp moon and the terror of the dim sky
It cuts me off with a spun of petals and a sigh
The ink of the pen on my cheeks, then my paper
Then words I didn't smoke in my bathroom sink
A mosaic with feces and the atoms of the universe
Turn your head to the left, then up, then right, are they right?
Individuals lost in time then harden marrow
The sunny hill caresses my ears with headless wings fly
We already feel the difficulty of breathing, where is the co2
The mustard seeds in the fern gardens have crystallized
I'm there for me and then here for you until you burn my skin
It was inflamed under the collar and presented an ugly sight
I am for you until I am as fine dust as pure snowflake
Sin is to soul what corrosive acid is to flesh!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
25 March 2023
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