Best Exuded Poems

Like the salt sting in an open wound
the colors encrust, excrete, move.
Boneless, bloodless, consumed insanity in bloom;
Munch’s “Scream” fills the room.

Undulating gore explored.
Heartache reeks from every pore,
Like the salt sting in an oozing wound
Munch’s nightmare blues fill the gloom.

All humanities abates
such torment at Fates gate....

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Mother would patschke
early that day in the kitchen,
and recruit any guest, who
blindly ambled thru front door
suddenly trapped unwittingly
squarely (triangulated) into kitchen
forcibly impressed to help

set up buffet tables
and/or given carte blanche to prepare
some mysterious dish,
(a hodgepodge of ingredients),
that suffered no shortages of compliments
unfortunately could never be...

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Is my notepad a blank space,
canvass or image-ridden spot,
thoughts of aqua bead elation,
mesmerise beyond the fence,
they jump gaudy traffic lights,
but runaway relish cuts wild shape,
when fantasy and environment,
a seamless transit might appear,
notions spiral in frothy oceans,
as time a spring time winger,
unfolds, unveils, unfurls,
its unique ruby...

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