Streets are filling with needles, disease and narcissist
the airways rimmed with demands for respect
if you don't agree 100 % they'll ring your neck
and your next of kin.
people turn to plants and spirit to retrieve their souls
not realizing until it's too late
that they've flushed it all down the toilet bowl...
grasping blindly through turds of madness...
Directionless.
they turn from Love and God into the blow hole
of influencers u tubers and tic tockers
dolphin people living for clicks...
looking to make a name for themselves
not through talent, class and hard work
but through shock and crassness.
I once had a teacher (frustrated by our terminal self-centeredness')
who once told a bunch of giggling know it all kids...
" One day the world is going to scare the living hell out of you".
How right you were Mr. Adams.
How right you were.
Breathless,
words like cordyceps adhere to my throat,
Choking me as the unspoken wrap around, seizing vocal cords.
Sticking fingers down, I claw to clear closing airways,
Yet the more I struggle, the more entwined they become.
Disconsolate spores have taken root within heaving lungs,
Spreading to each chamber of the heart, systematically.
Transported through streams of hemoglobin,
Swiftly infecting Broca's area before moving to the primary motor cortex—
As all speech ceases to be.
My best friend saw me born.
Coronation of blood,
Tearing through his long beloved.
Floppy neck and flailing limbs,
Protesting my own birth.
Constricting cord,
A life noose, murderous
Cut from me free, my airways clean.
Chest to dead-weight chest,
He forgave my assault,
That which he had sown.
Plasma glow to glass-blind eyes,
Milk not frothed, elixir to survive,
Feed the baby lump with plastic breast,
Far from she who bore her,
Her mother seeking rest.
Years ago, from floppy she came
To floppy she now goes,
Noose of life returned,
Retreat back into black.
Daddy, you were my best friend.
Suspend me—
Rising to Your Presence,
Falling to air,
Like when you carried me,
When the ground was miles away.
Here I am in air again,
Daddy my friend,
From floppy I came, to floppy I go.
IN BEING A COSMIC POETIC BUTTERFLY
When your mind
The cocoon
Of your spirit
Releases itself
Let the rhythmic wings
Of your being
Soar your spirit
In the airways life
With your essence
Of healing words
Of graceful liberation
To those cosmic beings
Of life’s universe
Awaiting their
Hydrating oxidation
Of the oneness
And onement of
Peace & love
Into the edge of adrift
time shrinks as the glowing
spectrum pans and shifts
i want to feel friendly with
the screen again
i want to feel the fuzzy static
embrace me
like arms made of out dozens
of freshly hatched chickadees
warm around my chest
like jet addled water
outside the leaves flutter
like channels in the airways
its getting dark earlier in the day
i want to like watching movies
again
so i watch them more than once
it feels like sin, like a scratch on a disc
skipping through limited screentime
just to reconnect
with actors and good direction
i don't want to turn it off but yet i
see the faint gloam of my own reflection
1 fs
When you mind
the cocoon
of your spirit
releases
let the rhythmic
wings
of your being
spiritually soar
life's airways
with
your essence
of healing
words
gracefully liberating
cosmic beings
in universal life
awaiting
your word's
oxidation
of
onderful
onement
of
the oneness
of ondering
peace
and
loving love:-
***
The room, whose nostrils were plugged,
lives for itself,
And does not know the meaning of the word "waiting".
And when my hand hits
the handle of her window,
letting oxygen into her bloodstream,
What then?
What to look at from her airways?
Driving a wedge of sun- ray into the lungs of four walls,
Will I save myself ?
This is not the entity that has been touted and written about
since the times before tamed fire
It is fire, it is malevolent and for that reason it entices me
Enveloped in a shroud of rage unrelenting
Uncaring in its timid posture, it sits patiently
light caressing its curves like a flamenco dancer
In the veins of a volcanic structure, streams of magma
flow slow and serene, effortless in its fervency
I see it staring back at me, and I must pay my dues
for such a crime to even think I could withstand it
My fingertips wavered within its presence, and yet
with daring stupidity I embraced it, the entity
I believe in the torments of Hell now, this is not of Earth’s soil
Lightning flailed like a wailing newborn within me
With every breath I took, every single one,
was a step towards inevitability
The bellows within my body were a searing forge, the sands
of my finite years turned to glass entering my airways
But oh what divine fruity ecstasy you are
Gehenna, this entity that offers me spiritual sustenance
in this experience of culinary S&M
“You have a wicked sense of humour”
Someone recently chided
Twisting what seem like serious events
Into silliness quite one sided
That's why I'm here to lighten things up
Adding sunshine to the group
From the great responses coming my way
It seems everyone's happy as poop
It's a tough job but someone's gotta do it
To counter the doom and gloom
That permeates the airways every day
Whisking them away with my broom
A broom of happiness of very good cheer
Coz life's a very short trip
Just live love and laugh at the world
With a happy-go-lucky skip
“You have a wicked sense of humour”
Had it since I was a young'un
Now decrepit but still chuckling away
Every day is for funnin'
“You have a wicked sense of humour”
Someone recently chided
Twisting what seem like serious events
Into silliness quite one sided
That's why I'm here to lighten things up
Adding sunshine to the group
From the great responses coming my way
It seems everyone's happy as poop
It's a real tough job but someone's gotta do it
To counter the doom and gloom
That permeates the airways every day
Whisking them away with my broom
A broom of happiness of very good cheer
Coz life's a very short trip
Just live love and laugh at the world
With a happy-go-lucky skip
“You have a wicked sense of humour”
Had it since I was a young'un
Now decrepit but still chuckling away
Every day is for funnin'
The troublesome throaty explosion
For which demanded is handkerchief
That helps to hinder hell’s diffusion
By the thoughtless simple man or chief…
The oft-followed by a dragged-out gob
The owner sends straight to nearby soil:
What had tried to chesty freedom rob
And a whole day for sufferer spoils…
A scurrying for antibiotics
Or soon, the chest shall be again heaved:
Haphazard gestures of semiotics,
The jerkily thrown off guard retrieved…
The attacked with, first, expectorant:
Syrupy stuff that keeps it at bay;
For cough’s accursed cause a search warrant,
In one’s airways delightful free way…
Cough’s innocent picture throat-clearing
Yet, muffle for a laughter rearing…
Capsule of disguised danger warning
For one you wish to see, next morning…
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Fingers tangling dry strands
Jostle soft fleshes with pained puffs
Dipping tar suffocating airways
Wrenching fabrics carving curses onto corpuscle
Taking
Pulling
Grabbing
Pushing
Stabbing
Shoving
Reducing into a pile of nothing
Ridiculed into a lump of worthless
Rejected into a mass of hollow
Remorse into a jumble of Woman.
I've let it slip
I've lost my grip,
I had it yesterday
I had better find it
Before it gets away
It was a firm grip
One I was so proud to own
How could I let it slip
Now it's all alone
What will I do without it?
I am sure I do not know,
I had it at the airport
Where did that travel bag go?
Get a grip on yourself,
All will be alright.
An airways attendant
Said it was already on the plane,
waiting for the flight.
I am travelling to Tasmania
To see my eldest son,
I may arrive in Pennsylvania,
That will be lots of fun
I have had enough today,
Although looking forward to this trip
Once I board the plane,
I will be able to get a grip!
Death was A Nice Idea,
So, Chief became “My Dear”:
Suicide for Breathless State
Straight to Satan’s Estate;
There to my case restate
Boss with Heat rewrite fate…
Death was the Fine Idea:
With Lifelessness no fear,
I wouldn’t for Nurse wait,
The Steroids hold as Great,
A Doctor like God rate
And start comparing Weight…
Death was the Crisp Idea:
Life has proved Another Spear:
Always Airways leave clean
To off hold Shaming Scene!
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