Best Aortic Poems

     


   


   Aided by the wind, 
entities take flight like prismatic colors- 
talismanning chanced direction 
"of...

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Albert Einstein
His teachers thought his abilities limited,
But his genius went down in history,
And his brain, after death, was exhibited.




Albert Einstein
Born: March 14,1879
Died: April 17,1955

Einstein died...

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I'm boring through your ventricles
I'm being terribly invasive
My quiet warm breath 
Keeping measure and pace
         To such...

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iconoclastic, aortic valves..

 toppling through stone nerves
 seperate the steel brow, the cement 
tongue 
 and holy mother from her child.

 yet still the public...

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A shiver of Appalachia
superfine sugar of maple
windblown through the spine
tingling in a burst of aortic air
Inhaled as though fresh but by
the mountains rendered spent
the slightest...

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Gemstones on a shoreline
maladjusted to the saltiness of fallen tears
basted in the din of sunbeam atoms colliding
the neap, a resting time from mortal waveforms
towed beneath...

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Across an azure sky
 i trailed lonely as clouds
Lost and broken
you unlocked my handcuffs
you are the love,you are the lover

In the ambiguity of reverberence and...

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Albert Einstein
Born - March 14,1879
Died - April 17,1955

Einstein died of an aortic aneurism at the age of 76 and the pathologist removed his brain to...

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Take a piece of my oversized pumping heart
Make aortic memories, oh so grand
Break not this adoring atrium to start
Quake from the rhythmic beat under your...

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Iron bars do not such a penitentiary make 
  as the flesh and muscle construct that enfolds 
the thoughts and idylls of your mystic...

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You inject yourself into my bloodstream
And give me a sense of high
But when you leave,
Your cravings become apparent

You force me to care and love
But I...

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I understand it feels broken
but only an aortic aneurysm,
or some other medical complication
can callout its appointed hour.

It is not defunct nor done for,
unless it has...

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Little gods inside my heart 
     where pumping blood is an art. 

 With a mind of their own 
 ...

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She has coughed red
aortic blooms on kitchen towels.

The blood has a black sheen,
a puddle full of storm-clouds.

I tug the fur around her throat
until she forgets....

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They wait in the night-lit brightness.
I watch them from an over-magnified telescope;
youngsters and older
some dripping a scent of latent maturity,
a furtive effort to blend and...

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