TO BEING IN LOVE’S LOVE
Being in love is an episodic emotion
Ballooned in exotic expectation
Tested by inflated orgasmic delirium
Often fizzing in diabolical diffusion:-
On the other hand,
Loving and being loved,
Is an eternal comic reality
That God spiritually bonds
To be eternal throughout life:-
How beautiful and exciting it is
To love spiritually, and eternally;
Being in the cosmic reality of
Blessed God sent true love
Ballooning beyond all
Limits and expectations:-
Being forever in love with you
Remains exciting and loving
And being loved by you is limitless,
And beyond all expectations: Praise God!
Each day I give Him thanks for the gift of you:-
Trust me it's the thrill of a lifetime
A rush of air against my face was sublime
What joy life brings
Tugging on my heartstrings
And all this warmth before teatime
Mistakes
Imply a choice
This or that
And a character
Looking back and
Declaring a mistake
Perhaps with regret
With guilt..
Perhaps "others"
Judging what now
Is a consensus
Mistake..
A ballooning of
Stories based on
Illusory choice...
Waves came in
as big as buses, smashing
on the seawall and exploding
into clouds of watery shrapnel.
I felt the sound inside of me,
guttural, pushing up and shaping
the word "whoosh" in my mouth,
ballooning against my lips
to open and speak it.
"Whoosh" I said on each crash
of water, the shock waves
becoming my breath to speak
its might and power,
my voice commandeered
by the moment.
Whoosh…. Whoosh…. Whoosh
I kept chanting
until I was emptied and there came
the most perfect still.
A dense sky-rubble
trundled and spilled above the rooftops
a runaway thunder ground along unseen tracks,
a near salvo rocking mind-cradles,
then a muted detonation over a far off
storm bruised landscape.
The tumult cracked and sizzled-
leaden were the rayless shades.
I returned home in the nick of
a dispersing moment.
The house seemed crouched,
ceilings low and cowering;
a living-space quashed by a heavy hand
rooms sheltering from the weight of imminent
upheaval.
I paused for the searing glare of lightning
yet a deepening gloom
sparked no ignition nor flash;
only a pressing portent of menace.
Then as rapid as the booming
onslaught arrived
the heavens broke open,
gravity expelled a lighter breath
to rise ballooning into an airy light.
All who huddled beneath that cacophony
sighed now in shamed relief
a prayer unspoken upon their lips.
I did not leave my dwelling that day
until my timid tabby cat
bravely led the way.
He avoided florists,
those over-cultivated blooms
in their overheated shops
seemed to be a perversion of nature.
He shunned all those floral gangsters;
the vainglorious gladioli,
eugenically forced greenhouse geraniums
with their large Shar-Pei heads.
Garish claustrophobic hosts of peonies
pressing-in and crowding his mind
with a ballooning menace.
His stomach trembled when confronted
with petulant Pelargonium
or the silent perfumed farts of the deadly Dahlia.
Charles Darwin, thought these latter-day
angiosperms as, “an abominable mystery.”
They are life-forms born of missing links,
genetically modified to eat oxygen
out of human brains.
They are the epitome of those hard drugs
that invade our senses.
For him, the Day Lily
was a pall-bearing pale monstrosity.
Seemingly innocuous bunches of Mums
are well known to gather in smug mobs
at a time of year
when our greatest need
is for fresh air.
Passing all flower shops
he cringes away,
and will not pay a penny
for any kind of noxious poesy
or floral frippery.
in the surreal solemnity of nature
a solemn ant colony
passes in a funeral-like
procession
carrying bits of crumbs
and one of their own…
a lone ballooning spider
ceases his kiting
and hovers in mid-air…
hanging from its button
a chrysalis evicts
its metamorphosed tenant…
across the way
waddling mallards
halt oncoming traffic…
in a distant field
goats satisfy bulging cuds
with sweet chewed grasses…
one-by-one the solemn ants
descend a volcanic-like hole
of a huge temple-like mound…
as if descending a grave
the setting sun slowly sinks
below the horizon:
bidding a golden hued adieu….
A giant portion of French fries
Can make a meal auspicious,
So crisp and yum but, no surprise,
Not really too nutritious.
Of course, I have to recognize
This choice is not judicious
But it is worth ballooning thighs
For something so delicious.
"garbage in, garbage out...sometimes you gotta clean out the mental closet"_ quote by poet
junk
in the attic
of the mind,
lingering on;
gradually
gathering dust.
cumbersome junk
of tossed aside woes
piling up;
steadily
ballooning
into a big pile
of tainted white elephants
that clog up
my thought process.
occasional practice
of mindfulness
is my way
of clearing out
the mental clutter.
Form J - Just Write Me A New Poem Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance LaFrance
Theme chosen: Junk
Date written: 03/22/2022
The night ended in smoke.
Sleepwalking fumes
rolled over the park,
perambulated in groggy circles,
then got stuck in the tree branches
where they hung as thick
as melting duck fat.
Around eleven in the morning
the sky began to baste itself;
you could smell it simmering
on the edge of a backburning brink
as it grilled a too torpid air.
It was sweet in the mouth at first
then it fire-licked wet ears
and slippery toes.
Skeletal strings unwound.
Mind-sweat began to pour,
drowning-out hope of any ease,
thoughts flopped to the earth
stewing amid overheated bubbles,
Microbes leached through
oily eyebrows.
Ohio just can’t get its weather right;
some nights merely pre-heat the day,
daylight pants through aphid snouts
and brown stems,
or bulges lungs with its ballooning fevers.
if the next passer-by
gleefully remarks:
‘what a lovely day’
they will be cursed politely
with a gorgon stare,
then a thin, and crispy leer.
Ten years spun into ballooning wear
Keep slipping through tighter fingers,
Fresh year's tries in futility repair
Adamant dents of wasting days.
Naive New Year's Eves pop in and go
In swift succession of dying dreams,
Most astute labors bootless bow;
Giving up more rewarding seems.
No tiny stone now unturned remains,
Yet progress-freezing agues fetid ail;
Stinging more than adder's fang ever sunk
Into most luck-lacking lamb's sleekest tail.
Expressionless Heaven looks on still,
As basest ills and brutish hell as one
Choke to death firmest hope's last ray;
As faith fruitless toils beneath the sun.
Assorted alliterative anteaters always near
Ballooning banshees believing in biosphere,
Courageous cook coaxing coat off bear,
Dubious dingo dickies digging in dog’s ear.
Effervescent energy Ebbers egg so clear.
Figures of speech shouting the nut job is here!
Acrid smoke in the scientist’s bell jar
Blankets of chenille-covered snow
Crystalline carbon diamond star
Drips forming stalactites grow
Effervescent waterfalls’ dreams
Frothy-topped cappuccinos
Gelid surfaces of lakes and streams
Halos of angels in holy repose
Icebergs splitting from their source
Jasmine-covered pergolas in Spring
Knuckles clenched in fear or remorse
Love’s purest form sobering
Mandala patterns on frosted window
Newly-born flamboyant flamingos
Opalescent lustre of pearls on show
Pineapple-licious snow cones
Quills of the porcupines’ defense
Ringlets of great-grandparents’ hair
Steamy hot springs vapor intense
Trailing wisps of London fog air
Undulating winter foothill maze
Veils of fine tatted lace purity
Wieliczka Salt Mine passageways
Xilinous spider webs artistry
Yahrzeit candle flame in memoriam
Zephyrus ballooning sails on a whim
bubbles...
expand and rotate due to
heats energies ballooning within...
changing in three dimensions at once and...
imaging as trefoil knots...stretching time-space
conservation limits till...the bubble gives birth
to smaller spheres each...with a trefoil expanding...
as a temporary three dimensional...time 'eddy' being that
manifests change as...sediments...with respect the currents of time
stan's sand
hot air balloon lifts
off the ground, there goes
great debate below
seeming solid ground
a noxious odor
but way up here
the air is clear
the birds fly by
and so do i
ballooning
is such fun
join me, you
dream big
seize day
light
1/7/2021
Contest: A Diminished Hexaverse
Sponsor: Caren Krutsinger
5/4/3/2/1 in syllables and lines
checked by HMS
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