Best Digested Poems
I
) (
¤
…shh
bashit
cashit
dishit
dashit
no tp
bushit
hushit
gashit
hashit
lashit
sashit
wishit
would
come
now
pushit
pushit
some
more
lushit
don’t
rushit
you
might
mashit
mushit
don't
splashit!
goshit,
too
late!
~ouch,
fishit
rashit
tushit
gushit
washit
flush
it..
II
°°
crashit
blushit
flashit
freshit
can't
brushit
can't
finishit
uhh
can't
crushit
this
slushit
cherishit
Ooh
ooh
o
¤
°
III
sh
woo.sh
's it
vanishit
sheepish
it!
** ok this one is still in the works...don't really want to force it
Writer’s babble: This has been in my intestines for a loong time now (years actually) but never figured out how to do it. Then *poopboom*! It all got digested and assimilated—the recent sample poem on on Cyndi’s blog, then Chris’ & Ruben’s concretes (Thank you for the inspiration :D!)
Ruben, here it is, finally. You did say, “Just do it”, glad I am able to doo it. I finally pooped out a concrete something O_o!!
I wouldn’t be surprised if somewhere out there, there’s a twin of this pooem. I suppository so, I haven’t tried searching for any, but yeah this was fun for me.
Ok this is still editable—feel free to share any –sh ending words and I might consider adding it :p
it’s just me, but eh, kinda iffy that it doesn’t tie too much—with the bushing it then flushing it. oh well.
** thank you, Cyndi & Chris for the added words :D, I would have missed them otherwise --- I doo think this will get longer & longer! please stay tootooned for more evacuations ;)
Categories:
digested, growth, loss,
Form:
Concrete
Are there robins hopping my frozen ground?
Sound of widowers voices all around.
Chilled to the bone, I make nary a sound.
My suit and tie are not keeping me warm.
Icy northern winds blowing in a storm,
I'm not feeling myself, out of the norm.
I feel my eyelids, the icicles form.
In the distance I hear taps being played.
Silent sobs emitted, my nerves are frayed.
Even in knee deep snow they knelt and prayed.
But there's nobody home, I am afraid.
I am not here, only my thoughts remain.
Taps is finished, such a solemn refrain.
Maybe it's me, am I going insane?
One mirror glance and I'd suffer disdain.
Someone has stolen my salt-pepper locks.
Moths have digested my Christmas wool socks.
Someday I will think outside of this box.
Wake me up if opportunity knocks.
Are there robins hopping my frozen ground?
Written 12/23/2017
Contest: Rhyme Time III
Host: Laura Loo
Categories:
digested, bereavement, bird, body, christmas,
Form:
Rhyme
In pleasantries, orchestrated on our screens,
We live the lives of many men and women,
As if sex could be! We grow, composed of well-cooked pablum
Eaten between long work hours, digested pleasantly.
In a fetal coil, I rest, my optic eye
Doesn’t blink at the silver reticules of my mind:
My body well knit by well-knit engineers,
This me-model makes real tears, running from my eyes.
Of course I’m human – hammered out in school,
Wearing what Designers Club tells me to;
You and I, we can adjust ourselves with tools,
Look down upon the Primitives -- those old fools.
Insulated from all microbial bio-terrors,
Safe from the brute, the thorn, the flawed flower
Blooming wild; we -- kept safe – know no variant weather,
Pity the Primitive, exposed to flood and laser-tower.
Did you see those messages, scrawled upon a wall,
Comparing us with vipers at Adam’s Fall?
There’s not an original thought in what he thinks:
That purist Primitive! His raw flesh stinks!
Computers say it best, and yet, I see
Something –compelling--- in his graffiti:
“O song, sing forth unto the endless skies--
O hear, created stars! You long have looked
Upon all who weep, who ever made outcry,
And wrote it down, in God’s forgotten book.”
written for those in the future--a protest against genetic engineering
Categories:
digested, philosophy, political, science fiction,
Form:
Verse
"The Hummingbird Cake"
The day started bright -
Bright Eggshell Blue
and ended in percussion
dark and cloudy stormed in
thunder pummelled drums
against a backdrop of
bruised eggshell dijon yellow
sweating heavy sage green
spitting spoilt the swollen pride of purple,
a wet abrasion against
Electric Blue
crackling along her lips
like Lightening
Sizzled on
her bitumen
her mind
winked at you...
Splits two
into one
not three
Taken slowly
deliberately
cake digested
swallowed like swallows
nibbling freely on air
a symphony of do you see me
in a Hummingbird storm
stairs to you she stares
upwards forever upwards
at lines of ebony tied tight
words kick and spit
like a cat in heat caught up
in a hessian sack
words in a puzzle
shaken and caste
on a playing board
pure white
not black
She,
Third person,
always Third person,
listens to her own heart
and then listens to the
words you have put on
and slowly worn warm
Revisits in her evening
a conversation with an old friend
Lorikeets on the balcony
Passionfruit cake and their
beaks in honey
a day in the life of Mosman
Carmen the dancer
Blueberries and
Raspberry Banana Bread
and Gold Crested
Pterodactyl Cockatoos
commandeering her kitchen
her gangster lovers
dead ends and loose screws
The day started bright blue
Ended in a thunder clap
boiling over onto a glowing hotplate
of flying embers,
reckless kisses and an unplanned
Storm;
A piece of Hummingbird Cake
was fed through a thread
In dreams while you watched
a movie in bed
Spoken to you
through
mind cerebral
not Reality read
Poppyseed and Honey
Bees buzzing on swollen
unheard lips
that silently bled Red
Words
Meanings
Life
Read
Red
Sugar ingested,
Honey to Blue Horse Flies.
Australiana
Fed.
Sleep,
Bed.
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
"Listen to the Hummingbird" / Leonard Cohen
https://youtu.be/hYIeW8bwlWQ
"Meadow" / Liam Gallagher
https://youtu.be/wHVuW7eOPNI
"Cosmic Dancer" / T.Rex
https://youtu.be/GMfjA4gyEcU
"Meadow" / Liam Gallagher, Lyrics
https://genius.com/Liam-gallagher-meadow-lyrics
Categories:
digested, freedom, psychological, romance,
Form:
Free verse
Press and dry; stamped aneath a logo of their own design....
This colourful pigment melting upon red velvet seals
Via the telegraph wires amid these morse code keys
Songbirds, singing their midnight songs unto me!?
Compositions notes to be transcribed from symbol sheets
Covering myself with these their, queen size needs....
Fine silks formed about the countless threads
Words spoken atop their crowned in turquoise, sweet asylums
Letter heads; bejeweled tokens to wear as shining bracelets true
Postmortum promises and then yes, we're wed too....
Pressed and dried; stamped with a logo of their own design
Two steps ahead and side to side, within this, a poetess rhyme?!
Buried between the tilling soils of her rose laden bush
Planted in a portrait that she painted afore the crimson earth
Picturesque, tangled amid her own twist and curls....
Spinning spools which she spun in gardens you see
As she cast her fragrant bouquet webs for all to be
Breathe; delusions digested through her smoke and screen!?
Coloured pigments melted upon stardust dreams; red velvet
Via telegraph wires of higher and highers, morse code me's....
Sealed into their blue realm desires marked in these; infatuations
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Black Balloons Floating By” ~
Categories:
digested, lifered,
Form:
LAST SUPPER
Elements of roasted lamb
Cups of wine ,nouveau
Sweet tasting spice nut paste
Eaten,without haste
and digested with
commands of
love !
Categories:
digested, faith, food, places
Form:
Epulaeryu
Crisp clean air gently expanding my lungs
Infinite pigments of vivid dazzling lights
Painted illumination masterfully hung
Washing over my body and brain
Gradually tampering down
My intermittent slices of insane
Tenderly reposing my weary mind
I Lie my head where the universes
Polished stars divinely shine
Nature surrounds my earthly bed
Glimpses of cascading brilliant color
Dancing through the evening sky
Soulfully digested, nourished and fed
A blanket that radiates glistening hues
For only my molten laden eyes to see
My breathe suddenly is eased, cleansed
For it has yoked the omnipotent to me
Silently retraining my brain
Gradually tampering down
My intermittent slices of insane
word count 109
Categories:
digested, stars,
Form:
Rhyme
You don’t consume a second meal
Before the first’s digested.
Your senses need some time to sort
The tastes you’ve just invested.
The same holds true for things you see
Or places where you travel.
Experience requires time
To stick, or might unravel.
When news is gotten, good or bad,
It takes a little while
To seep inside and be absorbed
In your specific style.
You cannot rush the process;
It may sometimes be quite slow,
But bombarding of the body
Or the mind’s not how to go.
Categories:
digested, life,
Form:
Rhyme
Hey mommy I am here to play
Daddy and brother are on the way
To the underworld where I sent them
By gutting tummies and dissecting
Innards go to outwards on the floor
Faces you can’t recognize anymore
Low and behold they still breathe
So I drowned them in the kitchen sink
Mommy come here, don’t run mommy
Fine I will chase you if you wish
But now when I get you — Cheshire grin
I’m going to take your life to the grave
Your going to wish you had stayed
Sparks fly on concrete from my blade
Mommy — I call through the halls
Mommy — my newest leather doll
Mommy! I call through the halls
Mommy, my newest leather doll
Eyes once vibrant and full of life
Frozen in time within glass like ice
Taxidermist sand fills your rinds
Don’t struggle scream or fight
Or you will feel a slice from my knife
Mommy your lips quiver and shiver
Bound to the cold ossuary of mischief
Where I been killing kids that went ‘missing’
You raised the perfect little girl all along
Perfect at whistling a thanatopsis song
Memento Mori-bund and invictus
For I am the necromantic enchantment
Tragedy fused elegy viral malediction
Feel the sweet steel mommy, not fiction
First cut was to invoke submission
Writhe and twist against her sentence
Stand still mommy here comes number two
Mama's little chef, stirring a stew of soullessness
the final cut, a symphony of silences, as carmine trickles
a crimson recipe, where every piece is digested
and in the cannibalistic dance, I devour your essence
Glazed icons of madness, Mommy my macabre doll
stitched and serried in the butcher's gallery of my mind
where souls are naugahyde-wrapped, my taxidermied trophies
of terror, a cabinet of horrors, forever chilled in time
In mother's dark hymn, I'm the soprano of sin
warbling sweet nothings of blood and bone
as Daddy and brother join the hellish song
their voices silenced by my tender touch
mashed and drowned, the reapers brush
Categories:
digested, character, child, conflict, dark,
Form:
Free verse
Oh what fun it is to watch the surreptitious actions
of the globalist elite,
And the open mouthed innocent ignorance of
their following sheep.
Feeding the pseudo enlightened masses
An Epulaeryu of lies,
on their table labeled “comfort zone”,
readily digested as alibis,
courses as to why the unethical repetitively
Nation crashing status quo is eeriely historical,
and now the state of current events is indeed
historically, an ominous, telling.. Future Oracle.
.
Categories:
digested, history
Form:
Rhyme
amongst the billions of people
there be some very sensitive
to others feelings...pains
sensed and unconscious
expression digested
they present statistical
probability they can read minds...
that is only just part of this 'scenario'
a situation where-in people hide
Categories:
digested, adventure, allegory, angst,
Form:
Blank verse
Paris today, Venice tomorrow
If I'm out of cash, I'll borrow
The Arc de Triomphe and Louvre
The Gondola metropolis
I'll sample every famous
Continental megalopolis
Stroll the Champs-Elysees
Marvel at glass-blown finery
Smile at the Mona Lisa
Take a tour of a winery...
And when it all has been discussed
poured over, digested
Without you there to share it
'Twas for naught
~ A full refund I've requested
Categories:
digested, appreciation, together, travel,
Form:
Rhyme
I have never been arrested,
abused, discarded, neglected.
All because someone protested,
it’s my color they detested.
I have always been protected,
accepted, respected, vested.
Civil rights never molested,
my freedom never contested.
No one has ever suggested,
because I’m black I’m now suspected.
To be so badly infected,
that it cannot be corrected.
Let this message be digested,
if we want this life perfected.
We must all become connected,
to a world that’s not divested.
Categories:
digested, poetry,
Form:
Rhyme
Standing
as in a dream
bemused
in my private world
alone
and yet surrounded
by others
thoughts
read
digested
and considered
waiting
listening then
writing
my verse
I awake,content
until the next
time
Categories:
digested, on writing and words
Form:
Verse
If you’re older and somehow not dying,
Yet live with dementia or worse,
Prepare to be hit with some lying
Before your last ride in a hearse.
This strategy’s gaining approval
As nursing homes struggle to cope
With patients whose memory removal
Deprives them of reasons to hope.
So little white lies are suggested
Like, “Your husband will visit real soon”
Since the truth often can’t be digested
And no time will be quite opportune.
Or, “Let’s visit the nursery; maybe
You’ll help rock your child to sleep,”
Where a doll substitutes for the baby
Which remains where the memories keep.
If deception brings comfort, I wonder
Why, to me, it just doesn’t feel right
Reaching into one’s psyche to plunder
What the mind has kept tucked out of sight.
Categories:
digested, age, old,
Form:
Rhyme