Best Disfigurement Poems

The surgeon generals 
are scalpel meeting once again
Fear doktors of war
are planning to raise another mar
on Earth’s topographical skin

Pigmented epidermal cells
are being prosperity lullabied put to sleep
under the celestial lights
Souls with eyes and minds closed — 
their ears tingle lustily, 
hearing cash pillow talk on...

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Without you next to me as I sleep, it’s like carbon monoxide in my lungs. I awake rotten and malnourished. Experiencing life as a ghost, everything is gray. Everything in ashes. Frail to the touch. Sickness resides in the majesty’s kingdom, yet I press on....

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Feigned love cut you deep,
left your heart bleeding profusely
Blood red, rose-colored stains,
drip, drip, dripping trail leading out the door ...
time to mop up this mess of a relationship
Wring all the tears into the bucket,
flush it out of the system ... get clean again
Can't let hate...

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UNTIDY HOUSE 

Untidy house!
Round and round
Racing ‘round like headless fowl
Cleaning, cleaning frenzy is the go,
Guests are arriving nearing so
House of daily living though
Is not what they want to see?
All spic-n-span is not of daily grind.
So your visiting folk
Are introduced into a world
Of a falsehood here
But...

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Interconnectedness 
Life with all its twisted 
Train wrecks
Contorted metal
grappled around
steel, disfigurement.
And at the heart 
of it all, I want to crash 
with you. Be a witness 
to your incriminating truth
Twisted in ways
censorship can't explain 
Remove stop signs at intersections 
and T Bone with you,
Bleep certain words
as I drive right through 
Swerve on curves
Creep...

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"Murdering Pluto" 

On Pluto, 
they deal with trauma
in the best possible way,
they murder it slowly 
in poetic hell 
day after day.

the dark Seraphim
have their way. 
their ways are stellar.
some say they hover
in the stratosphere,
but that's much too clear. 
They're in the parallel
dimension, that forgotten,
unnumbered place....

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It is the awakening.
After long dreamless sleep, my time has come again.
Through endless cycles of  night and day, of heat and cold
I have lived throughout history.  My birth unremembered
as is my youth.  I have lived for a thousand years but too many...

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‘PURPLE NIRVANA JOURNAL’
Dedicated to the legendary Kurt Cobain—(20 February 1967—5 April 1994)
		
“What else could I write—I don’t have the right.....”
Words are a big pile of contradiction—split down the middle, sincerity and fiction
Feelings we have, sarcastic rebuttals—bohemian clichés exhausted and shuffled
Finding my nest of salt—every word...

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I know of a man, a normal man.
He has hair and eyes
and wears clothes and shoes.
He walks, he breathes, he blinks.
He bathes, he sleeps, he eats.

I think I love this normal man
for I, too, have hair and eyes
and I wear clothes and shoes.
I walk, I...

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What if the incessant torture didn’t happen
so many dark times, but it’s unimaginable
for you to comprehend isn’t it?

No one knows, the tragedies that left me
so crippled, you can’t fathom, the depth of
the sins they committed against me.

What if my father didn’t knock me down
the stairs...

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The best artists are outlaws
Vandalizing our sanctity,
Our sanctimonious freight trains,
Our parsimonious neglect.

The best artists are culprits
Chiseling our school desks,
Scraping our bathroom stalls,
Doodling our notebooks.

Graffiti spray paints the struggle,
Scribbling defaces the pretense,
Defilement arrests the complacent,
Disfigurement sullies the platitude.

Defacers embody the dialectic,
The opposition to conformity,
The betrayal of...

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wishing he had sung his prayers last night
from both ends to the middle
fell to the ground in adoration
tore a wake through the ink stains
but not from satisfaction
plastic Jesus hold my head
a round of applause for once
or even just a soft murmur
from those in your employ
parked...

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Blood soaked disfigurement on the Cross of Love,
Etched markings of whipped cord; sinew of flesh torn
To shreds. Grimace of pain; ashen face of love

"Water! water! He cries, for I thirst. I thirst for love
For you and My Father. My body is weak and scorn
Is my...

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A primate with disfigurement...

His stare, facing back at me...

A crystal he was holding...
his light ascended truthfully...

His wild cry escaped-with defiant will...

This dream no script pretend...

his judgement sorely with impale

his identity has been refused...

his freedom in deep detail...

Soon the same will fall to some...

due to cruelty...

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Was it a mirage of innocence
in the age of push ups of a
                      violent surrealism ?
I was wary of the repeat
acid horrors. They come...

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