Dark red, luscious apples felled from her own tree long ago
Under the beaming sun plummeted with a soft, aching blow
The sweat drips and plops, scruple over a furrowed brow
Upon the discovery of rot that blackened her plow
“Has the wind gone mad–or am I the one insane?
Dirt and grime, high dry–surely the only way to explain”
Denial among hatred, she could not face–but under the murk, bits
Beneath, the snakes–surly and shabby—placed high their bids
The heat danced faster as the days passed far less paced
Her blonde hair bleached and pruned, but left one space
The temple on her right seemed blank and bruised
As a failed blow far too long past was nearly used
The magazine fell as she begins filtering the rot past her mind
She screams, shouts, yelps and cries, sobs of an animal forgotten by time
“I never meant for this to go–go and blow up like this!
I never meant. . . I never meant for me to hurt our kids.”
Too far from gone she was, behind silken white bars and drenched in ammonia
“I know, my love, but I must leave and forget you—may heaven forbid us, Aurora”
His smelled of semi-soft cheese
with a low moldy blue undertone
I had no tolerance for his smell
for compared to gym socks,
ammonia,
or barnyards,
it was pure Eau de Toilet !
After a game of indoor soccer
he'd break wind
while holding up one leg.
He smelled of rotten egg
formaldehyde,
and sour pickles,
from New Orleans....
While they chased after him
with bottles of perfume
He'd do the armpit fart
then run away.
Leaving behind,
a skunky smell of Cannabis.
The cook kept smelling something stink
Found out, it was the kitchen sink
Poured ammonia then bleach
That smelled like the beach
Then suddenly, he couldn't think
Ammonia-ed clumps of damp, dunged straw
forked onto her cold barrow, then rolled outside.
Across the field where her ninety pounds
thrust up the dray atop a mulching mound!
Nineteen times before the sour dregs
are swallowed by the day.
Bowed tendons stripe her calloused palms with pain.
She racks each open with a metal comb
to rake her horse’s mane.
Stall cleaned; horse fed, mane combed to shine as gold-
Showered, she brings her smile to our bed.
Rotation of consciousness, like grease in axis,
Smoothens the meditation process in praxis;
Yoga Nidra, like the sleep, relaxes each part,
Meditation, like music, turns an art of heart...!
Isn't hydrogen and oxygen form water?
Nitrogen with hydrogen Ammonia polar;
Ethanol or Lithium or sulphur oxide,
Each by polar properties delightfully dyed...!
Nature gives unconditionally like mother,
Streams, hills and vales could be replaced by no other;
When soul says to fall into their flow if mind spurns,
In us polarity of grabbing highly burns...!
Lust, often, like CO2, extinguishes flame of love,
If both mingle love-life toward delight does shove;
Surrender to the truth brings divine grace of peace,
Lies, conflicts and dominations leave none at ease...!
Splits should give way to unity and lies to truth,
Anger, annoyance and fight should turn gum-less tooth;
Love and liking for virtues, should like palms-trees, thrive,
Compassion, like ember in furnace, be alive...!
11 November 2022
Rotate consciousness polarity Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker
My lungs were burning.
It was hard to breathe.
I thought that I would die.
I think I was a child of 8 or 10.
Had I known the source of danger
and a better decision to make,
would I still have run blindly?
Would the scare had been as great?
When an ammonia tank blew its top,
I smelled the fumes and ran quickly.
I ran until I no longer inhaled the fumes.
Unaware of my surroundings, I ran blindly and
stopped, not realizing being at the road.
Only God knows why the fumes halted at the road.
Only God knows why there were no cars passing by.
I thought that surely, I was running for my life.
Afterward, I saw a man walk to the tank and shut it off.
It became apparent that he was behind the flow of the wind.
Nevertheless, I do not think that I would do anything differently.
Would I have died or become plagued with a lung disease?
Only God really knows the difference had I not run.
102622PSCtest, I chose to run but had I stayed,
things would have been like. Anoucheka Gangabissooni. 3P
Earth can hear you
better when invited
to wisely engage,
to co-invest in healthy experiences
and wealthy images
of our mutual care
and strained
constrained neglect.
She watches
as you wonder
again
If humanity
fully defines what Earth's animals are
together on our best Earth Day
because our DNA roots grow back
into prime sacred relationship
of win/win balanced oxygen
synergizing hydrogen.
She invites us to stop
degenerating toxic alternative universes
Loser egos inside
eco-asystemic losses
Chaotically swirling
against organizing organic life
Wiped out by industrial ammonia
and disempowering bleach
Like acidic agents of Orange
with pits
and poisons
of privileged pukey Peach.
I live in a dark stretch of land part ocean, part lava
sheer as light but opaque where the eyes meet
I am a pool of hard matter, still I appear translucent,
when you look at me with those big brown eyes.
Do you fancy me? Color me beautiful and find out;
I am full of helium, neon, ad hydrogen, perfumed
by methane, ammonia and carbon dioxide, ...
Do you like my silicon round, my phosphorus shine ?
I wore a sodium spritz for you, feel my magnesium
am I female/ male ? Color me beautiful and find out;
I boast about my crust and my mantle is hard core
stepping up to the plate I enhance the telescopes,
with my sippy blue and splash of silver, I am me.
Take your time before you X me in the box,
I am moon cisgender to my nature, do you like ?
I am moon, all moon, equivocally endangered
when you select a sex for me, so won't you please,
color me beautiful, no matter what hues you see.
August 3, 2021
All real things
, already were
dreams, one day...
All dense matter,
is made of the ethereal,
indivisible.
impalpable...
no one is a son
of carbon and
of the ammonia...
we're nobler fluid ...
Nothing happens
without a purpose:
even death has
a sense...
Slowly,
let's understand
what the universe plots...
Even if it lasts one
eternity...
Don’t you know that fragrance can be heard? I assume you don’t. Me? Still drooling to ammonia of that heritage moments of ‘us’. So, I decided to scribbled words. Lifeless.
Dang! That was not poetry. That was just words welcoming the aches of cars crashing to a soul. That was looking at insults as I stand in the wet concrete with nothing but empty validation from strangers. That wasn’t poetry. That was me ruthlessly playing poker with the SUN while holding tear-stained recollections in front of ignored mailbox — wishing that emotions are disposable.
Have I mentioned that I was playing cards with the solar then? Sadly, I decided to swallow it, rather than be lost again!
A poem by JinQue RD which was published in an Amazon-best seller book entitled Scentsibility.
Follow JinQue Rd at:
facebook: https://web.facebook.com/AuthorSycamoreWild
instagram: https://www.instagram.com/sycamore_wild/
The Octopi Jars
by Michael R. Burch
Long-vacant eyes
now lodged in clear glass,
a-swim with pale arms
as delicate as angels'...
you are beyond all hope
of salvage now...
and yet I would pause,
no fear!,
to once touch
your arcane beaks...
I, more alien than you
to this imprismed world,
notice, most of all,
the scratches on the inside surfaces
of your hermetic cells...
and I remember documentaries
of albino Houdinis
slipping like wraiths
over the walls of shipboard aquariums,
slipping down decks'
brine-lubricated planks,
spilling jubilantly into the dark sea,
parachuting through clouds of pallid ammonia...
and I know now in life you were unlike me:
your imprisonment was never voluntary.
Originally published by Triplopia and The Poetic Musings of Sam Hudson. Keywords/Tags: Octopus, Octopi, Medusa, Sea Angel, Angel, Angels, Nature, Sea, Ocean, Aquarium, Aliens, Imprisonment, Prison, Boat, Ship, Ships, Shipwreck, Animal
The promise to hold hands and reach the altitude
fades more for no treasure to be found
initially started in the playground of happiness
now ending with nothing to covet
the affection’s oven is wrecked to produce watery bread
a beautiful bargain, ending with a series of slaps
either one is tired or both are reckless
soft hearts of gold, carrying heavy daggers
turns sour and the only thing left of the union is bile
the broken bond falls to the ground as ugly pieces
ammonia, coming out from what was once functional
the day the pages of their love started getting missing
was the time the diary shortened and thrown to be forgotten.
MEOW Cats
MEOW Cats, In a kingdom full of pups;
There amongst us;
Was the barking of German Sheppard?
MEOW Cats
And the kittens never whelping;
In a kingdom full of pups;
My, my, my look up, look up;
MEOW Cats
Only this and a spring caterpillar;
Traveling through the spring litter;
Droppings of odor and despair;
What rocks this litter-box?
So toxic
MEOW Cats
Notation of ammonia in the air;
And the parakeets never chatting;
There stepped a young rodent;
Chased got caught and eaten by the cat;
What a death twas, for the young rat;
Imagine this… imagine that;
I heard a deep, deep sighing;
Yum yum ouch!!
Says the mouse rat;
Cats, cats!
MEOW Cats ate all the mice and rats
2/13/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2020
1. Stay low,
2. Strike a blow,
3. And go with flow.
Or wake up on the bench
With that ammonia stench.
"How many fingers do you see?
What do you do on 50-Slant-C?"
"He remembers the plays again.
He's okay to go back in-
Just an elbow to the chin."
1. Stay low,
2. Strike a blow,
3. And return that elbow
SHALL I DIE---
My age is daunting yes
I've live beyond my peers
Yet
Shall I die, shall I die;
I've been born, birth into sin;
Yes, I've did my dirt, I'm shamed;
Shall I die, shall I die
My parents both of them
Died of cancer
Shall I die
I've hid my hat and gloves
In the mailbox
In dead winter storms
Coat unzipped no boots on
Feet got wet should gotten ammonia or flu
Slip and fell on ice hit my head
Oh, I cried
Shall I die
Did I mention
That I am a sinner
Yet, I'm forgiven
I've repented, saved by grace
I am a product of the first disobedience
Yet I live I survived
Not ready to leave my earthy family yet
Did I mention
That I am a sinner
Yet, I'm forgiven
I've repented, saved by grace
I am a product of the first disobedience
I've been born, birth into sin;
Yes, I've did my dirt, I'm shamed;
Left physically alone
Marriage dissolved by death
Now I'm a widower, yet...
As I spy...
Shall I die
2/2/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2019©
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