Best Flattens Poems
Somedays I feel like I'm surrounded by bars and bricks
encaged on a stage in tar that sticks.
There's an agonisingly unfamiliar reflection in the mirror,
as my eyes detect an unrecognisable inferior figure.
I can't see the stars in the sky at night,
and the sun doesn't rise to provide daylight,
creating days filled with unpleasant darkness,
feeling the hate, I will for heaven sent brightness.
It would be nice to see a flicker,
a shooting star or something quicker,
as my impaired eyes see unseeingly at paradise.
It seems these days have perfected imperfection and sadness,
as though infected but immune to antidote injections that stop madness,
and the bad feel projecting out onto these days seemingly disastrous.
So I turn to alcohol and slowly increase the dose
and down the booze until I doze,
to awake with the shakes that alcohol creates,
reaching straight for the glass of straight voddy,
drowning myself down in hate toward the junkie category.
A way I find carries me through this hell that flattens me,
clouding my mind, shielding hurt that comes with thinking clarity.
Leaving me imprisoned and unable to escape this reality.
………………………………………………………………………….
Somedays I feel like I'm surrounded by bars and bricks,
so I drink water and take vitamins to get far from my minds tricks.
My mind digs up thoughts sick and twisted
from the ditches of the mental scars life inflicted.
I see a full moon but no stars in the sky at night.
There must be a faint cloud blocking that far travelled light.
Throughout the day I stay active as it distracts the gloom
and subtracts it until a world seemingly more attractive resumes.
I shrug off the booze and don't meet the thugs
that deal drugs and rise above a life for chumps.
I start these days feeling down in the dumps,
but if I live the right way I move passed the grumps.
I feel that just the moonlight moves me to comfort,
I perk as I forget today and all that work.
Tomorrow is another first,
I think life offers more than I deserve.
Like a sheet blowing in the wind
Your hair flows gently
I feel your embrace with protection
Like the mother sparrow feeding her chick
The embrace nourishes
When the wind dies and goes where it goes
You gently tug my soul
It goes to where it's quiet and lingers
The sheet flattens
In that embrace I wait
Waiting is what matters in life
The dance commences, I retreat a step
Shattered from archaic engulfing patterns
You cha cha your storm forward in
Swirls of ancient abandonment and as
I skip back another, gasping for sufficient safety from suffocation,
You unfurl your blitz clawing the lioness’ leash
You decipher my terror and it emboldens your raging compulsion
Which suspends our inner children in connected cocoons and yet somehow
We cant reach each other as we intermingle desperately
It makes us stoic, empty and musically atrophied but
At a closer distance, oxygen less and congruently alone
And it sits frog like, stale and poisonous between us and still
The spire flattens and petrifies our reflections powered by a
Stalemate which devours our fragile humanity with a timid jocularity
Within a night, a simple crop field has been transformed into a magnificent work of art, the overnight cryptic formations capture the attention of all as the large section of the crop has been tamped into marvellous morphic designs of art, rings and other intricate accomplished geometric patterns.
Edges so neat, it appears that they have been crafted meticulously with most advanced gadgets, with such precision that even though the stalks are bent, they are not damaged at all.
One scientific theory explains the spinning columns force a burst of air down to the ground, which flattens the crops, yet the myth remains how can a few seconds works of spinning air creates such intricate and absolutely perfect circles, sometimes plain, sometimes circles within the circles with myriads of meticulous patterns within patterns? Some says aliens hands behind, some negates them as man-made hoaxes.
Wonder! People close to those rings of crops, encounter strange physical and emotional reactions as the circles rotate clockwise and anti-clockwise as unseen hands or remote controls are controlling them from unknown realms.
From Hollywood magic to spirits of secret weapons, from evidences of UFOs to erudite explanations, there is something hypnotic in their architectures, in their cryptic presences, in their aesthetic textures for inquisitive minds to continue further quests to unravel their enigmatic riddles.
© Silpika Kalita
Boreas laughs and of his power we will know
His breath in anger, a white blanket appears
He breathes out the north wind and snow
The master of cold and snow it appears
Zephyrus the calm one, sprinkles hope from the west
The bringer of hope, the father of fruit and of flower
From Boreas won Chloris, she loved him the best
Unlike his north brother, land didn’t devour.
Notus, jealous of the crops Zephyrus brings forth
Through summer he rages bringing storm from the south
Determined in storms to scorch the lands to the north
Flattens crops with hot winds when he opens his mouth
But Euros the unlucky one, is he weak is he wild?
Different from Zephyrus, Notus and Boreas that blow.
From the East, he is either violent or mild.
But insignificant it seems to his brothers, we know.
But the God of all says he will hold these winds back
If not, none would be saved.
For come the day he takes his Kingship back
The land with false gods will be paved.
© 25/12/2014
RISING FROM THE ASHES
Wordancer
The eyes of the dragon seen through the trees
Mesmerize minds and cause bodies to freeze.
Which way to go, which way to turn;
No time for questions when the trees burn.
Just jump in the cars and flee towards town
But the road is cut off as the wind swings around.
No way to go, no way to turn;
An acceptance of fate, as the trees burn.
The fence of the paddock does not impede
The scorched car that flattens it, picking up speed
Away from the flames, away they must turn
Desperate with fear, as the trees burn.
The breath of this beast lights fires with no flame
The heat of its breath burn all just the same.
It’s tail flames on, it’s head, see it turn
Back towards town, there are more things to burn.
With fire, smoke and tears these folk have learnt
To rise from the ashes; spirits singed; not burnt
A call for assistance, now the schools turn
To grey squares of ashes; and more townships burn.
The calls went out across this wide country
And the offers came from all and sundry.
What do you need? What can we bring you?
They were told, so they went; what else would they do?
Hand towels, toothbrushes, soap and shampoo
To clean away ashes; the soot, and tears too
Through fire and smoke, these folk have learnt
To rise from the ashes; spirits singed; not burnt
The towns’ people will labor as long as there’s need,
They’ll listen and learn and plant as they weed,
While their houses and schools, fire stations too,
Rise from the ashes, and stand good as new.
The February Dragon has left for a time,
But hope that heals the scars in the minds
Of the people there, is strong and alive,
They have rebuilt their towns, their dreams and their lives.
©
Focused on you, a wild demons stare
With a motion it happens
A emotion flattens
As you fall beneath a demons glare
He notices most things that happen
Might even pick the clothes you wear
Believe it or not he really does care
Knows whats best and helps me get there
To perfection the performance blacken when he's scared
Things fall apart if he's not helping me be prepaired
Guidence and experience for me his mare
Sometimes I wonder what it would be like without a demon here
He loves positive reactions with greatness and flair
And how people love me after he dares
Carefully he holds me through a very small tear
Me I guess I am getting used to, just hangin round rare
Sunrise, Oh aural hymn of spirituality,
Vibrant in it’s splendour and magnificence,
Sending nocturnes to daytime slumber,
Bathing life to a yawning earth.
Piercing the day’s birth with colours and hue,
The Master’s tableau, a glorious canvas,
Fiery paints, swirling strokes and defiant beauty
The bright facet of the world’s axial turn.
It evokes and invokes, feelings and awe.
Praises and raises, creation and spirits,
Vilifies and nullifies, sadness and hopelessness,
Resigns and consigns, acceptance and trepidation.
Strand by strand, it runs through the hair,
Pore to pore, it caresses the skin,
Squint by squint, it opens the eyes,
Every brightness warms a weary heart.
It bridges valleys and flattens peaks,
Resurrects death and ends horizons,
Humbles the great and strengthens the weak,
With its rays, its light, its kiss.
We are but an audience, paler and drabber,
Casting pathetic lines of self importance,
Feeble in our attempts and underneath its shadow,
For its languid phase is our mortal eternity.
When we are dust, entwined to life in death,
Ethereal and eternal and constant the sun remains.
Bathing life to a yawning earth.
The room looks over and starts to chuckle.
An oddly beautiful stream of cider
Erupting from the nose of my uncle.
Kids waiting for a Christmas night rider,
All hoping to finally see Saint Nick.
Aunty Mary stands up and starts to twirl,
Nigh knocking over a lamp, she stops quick,
And she instead flattens the nearest girl.
Family running to see if she is fine,
We end up running into each other.
Dinner’s done, I head for the starting line,
And I’m elbowed in the face by brother.
It wouldn’t be family, well I assume,
Lack a trip to the emergency room.
I close my eyes and the world dissolves into little stars.
Windows and shadows taper off into unknown distances of space in sickly, bruised, yellow-greens and poisonous magenta.
With whisps like ghosts that arrive in clouds and vibrate in the center of this not vision.
When they are sliced by imposing rings of pale blue and green from the left,
washing away like a beachy horizon.
Until it fades away once more into a grotesquely stained carpet pattern crawling with ants
That moves as if on a conveyer belt.
There is a fine black point in the distance that radiates with a distinctive sting.
It begins, with instances of light that stretch and vibrate like sinew under beacons when the squinting makes the vision ripple
And flattens floating amber orbs until they burst.
The prickling landscape advances.
As the head emerges
from the womb of soil,
brightly declaring its birth
in the scream of birds,
the new day is born,
a life to live to night,
as the body travels in its path,
as the head held high, aloof!
Hiding behind veils of cloud,
breaking and slicing through
as it gazes upon the ground,
a humbled beggar to his shoe.
And then it reaches the height of its career,
as shadows flee and hide in reverential fear.
But then it topples from its ladder,
the inevitable decline,
until in its retirement,
it gets to end of line.
And then it is pierced by the spears of Cyprus trees;
it deflates slowly, and flattens
as it plunges to the ground
and the feathered choir sings songs of praise
as the day’s last trumpet sound.
And to earth it returns,
to earth where it was born,
dust to dust,
ash to ash,
tomorrow,
to be re-born!
Synthemesc candelabras ache hyacinth desire till woven floors
macabre phoenix grown on veiled crucible vines, dragonflies now
inhabit counter-clocks I've forgotten seer dust ponders hewn salamandrine fire
as a wish to eradicate all a wish denies, You've lost your chance
well I've lost it in the mirror.
I slipped you a talking pill
spearing sun vistas’ translucent din hails those darkest clotted wings
in Babel’s way, so get out of my way, into the waste or into the waves?
Night’s volcanic window-sill maze flattens—castaways untowards sine-greaves’ Latin.
I am Electricity—I laugh at thunder
bellowing at my helm, unaware
that electricity is a sound I share
my unseen body, your shadow, our mezzanine Jericho
shattering in the mirror, drear-dreaming diadem go ahead I’ve lost it,
edelweiss that reads my mind the crimson oars shall never find
nor color’s death: a smiling, stilled lake.
I slip on an unwritten will.
angel face hovers the room
offering halos
ringing sweet yet silent,
the howling burrs of blue
a smile half hidden by rose tinted locks
swirling silent desires-
satin soul smock
her hand is petal, sacrifice to wanting lips
heat slowely circling {anticipation} as the light dims
scent of forever on the nape of her being
lust is blind cloudburst
pink coral unravelling....
love - eternally seeing
in the tangles of morning,
angel face awakens
turns her head toward
the ghost of the leaving
but she's stronger than selfish
flattens every ball of his hate
growing wise as sunflower
on wildfire glade
there'll come a moment
when angel meets a true mate
when time captures
the sprinting spirit of her faith
Climb inside and buckle in
Anxiously twisting the key
As a mechanical symphony roars to life
Setting nine hundred horses free
The machine becomes an extension
Of my own flesh and bone
My heart beats in choppy rhythm
While eight cylinders scream in tone
Launch sequence initiated
The green bulb’s affirmative glare
Release one button as I depress another
The front tires suspend in mid air
The mechanical cavalry stampedes
While the pipes cry out their siren song
Defiantly embedding rubber into asphalt
Parallel stripes running dark and long
Every gear change seemingly effortless
Acceleration that flattens your chest
Control of the beast seems impossible
While every sense is put to the test
Heads swivel and jaws drop open
The earth quakes as I roll past
Vanishing into the darkness
Redefining the meaning of “fast”
For I have stared fear in the face
While others stood back and leered
I stomped my right foot in defiance
And clicked down to a lower gear
This - the Divine Unity
Of Man and his Machine
In water we may be baptised
But in horsepower we are redeemed
He glares at me
And the scene glares right back at us
A pool of oozing red surrounds us
The bed of roses shimmering
The black silk with stains of velvet
The shiny golden candles painted with a dark ruby
Everything is Crimson, Everything is Blood
Everything is Beautiful.
As he sees the ache as I struggle to hold him, the helplessness of enduring
He grabs me easily and flattens me on the pool of red
As I start to close my eyes
And bits of life depart me
He stands up, begins to abandon this magical place
My vision begins to blur, my hearing diminishing
As I no longer hear the leaving footsteps
My heart beating. Still beating; its rhythms distant.
It Screams The Shout! The Final Plead, Calling, Whispering..
Upon the shallow silence
And he turns back
He glances at me, at my all
And runs to hold me
To Kiss me
Forever…