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
All of us here where we will never return
I stay in this moment,
I can't get out
But I will never return again
My mother and her sister sit at the table
Trading stories I'll never know
I'm on the ceiling, watching the spiders build
homes in the cracks of their cups
There's a light down the street
There's a faith we don't speak
This house is a church in the middle of the night
When I worship the quiet,
so soft and serene I could just
slip away
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
Maybe a simulation only
Tsunami tells us the waves
Will eventually roar storeys high
The endless quarrying tells us
One day the mountain rocks start rolling
The flood tells us the rivers
Will penetrate into the cities like roads
Pollution makes the rivers feed on colours
Acid rain sheds the leaves bald
Deforestation makes the forests thin
And animals start shifting
Radioactive waste makes the fishes commit suicide collectively
Workloads makes people
Become pressured cans with stony faces
The skyscrapers poke into heaven Resulting in a bigger hole in the ozone layer
The endless oil mines poke into hell
Resulting in volcano eruptions
Internal wars and boundary wars are Only signs of men struggling
To survive the pre-doomsday
I AM WAITING
Today, I am waiting
When will you come and sit?
Upon the bridge, watching
the running river below my feet.
I can clearly see ‘myself’, like a king
‘Myself’ tells me,
‘Hey, you are so good looking.
Then the river shows me
About my black past
Like a mirror
Which I forgot very fast.
Once, I was waiting
Like today,
But you didn’t come.
Just in a phone call you said,
‘Now you aren’t so pretty and handsome.’
But still I am waiting again,
Only for you
Not to see your beautiful face again.
Because, to protect you from back
I faced the painful acid attack.
You are a hole in my head;
when I look inside, I see a dentist's drill
grinding sweetly against my hippocampus
and it must have hit a tear duct by accident
because when I wake, it has been raining.
I douse myself in Argan oil and
set myself on fire with my hair straightener
(ordinal, interval). Never again will I sleep;
That night I dream of
at last! A letter from you
though when I wake, I do not check the post.
I switch on the oven, and logic
swallows the half-consciousness of your handwriting.
Now I rise from my reverie; it is babyhood
and it is morning and I
sweat under the covers,
learning everything in five minutes,
Orlando, Leon, Halleluiah, and
people looking like other people,
a man that used to be handsome,
In the veins of a red-eyed pensioner he
drags me from my bed in upside-down buses
and the screaming blue walls of the DVLA office;
I fall cyclical into double brackets as I am
reaching out for a glass of water
and I am forever
Brushing my hair in the face of death;
I sit down in the shower and
wonder if it will get infected
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