Best Fouling Poems
Turmoil
God awful gut wrenching
nightmare riding
turmoil.
Throat clenching
acid rising murder of crows,
False importance on the trivial grows.
A gag reflex of learned fear
turmoil roils hurricane high
calms counterweight on the psychic scale.
Taste the bitter bile of discontent.
Far fetching fowl…
fouling the content
eating the brash bits of joy
Turmoil.
While waiting at the river Styx, in twisted time untaught,
from branches of the gallows tree, in recollections wrought,
your soul, a beggar’s blanket, hangs in crazy quilted knots,
with dangling pearls and diamond studs in dripping crimson clots,
midst gaping wounds and bulging eyes like fouling apricots,
for wrapped like rope around your throat’s the Reaper’s grim garrote.
"It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God." (Matthew 19:24)
Continued from Part 1
“Upon your knees in golden naves, while peeking through the slots,
You horded thirty silver pieces, downed a whiskey shot,
Then crossed yourself and wrapped yourself in furs of ocelots,
And danced on cleated cloven hoofs in purple polka-dots,
Then drank His blood from chalice cups with pious afterthoughts.
“You’ve treated men like mongrels chained, like little flies to swat,
By doing what you wanted to, instead of what you aught;
You’ve wiped your nose with dollar bills and paid your serfs with snot,
But when you’ve paused to preen your pride, you’ve scrubbed a scarlet blot.
“In ashes of our victories: the diamonds that you sought,
The crock of gold, the Golden fleece of bogus Argonauts -
In mirrors of your lifelessness, the evils you begot.
“The haunted winds strew leaves of time across a shallow plot
Where now, beneath the frozen stones blanched bodies bathe in rot,
Disintegrate, return to dust to feed Forget-Me-Nots
Amidst the bane and pits of pain where broken bones lie caught.
“In fields above the catacombs and tombs of Camelot
The black and withered tree of Death arises from the spot
Where oft beneath a bleeding moon you hid your gold in pots
Embedding doubts neath barren bogs where roots of wormwood squat.
“While waiting at the river Styx, in twisted time untaught,
From branches of the gallows tree, in recollections wrought,
Your soul, a beggar’s blanket, hangs in crazy quilted knots,
With dangling pearls and diamond studs mid dripping crimson clots
And gaping wounds with bulging eyes like fouling apricots,
For wrapped in chains around your throat, the Reaper’s grim garrote.”
Yes, that’s the fate of all your kind, disclosed by Wise Men taught.
But that was, oh, so long ago, by now you have forgot…
End
Where, oh where, is God?
When will the man-child stop asking why,
stop searching for the other, the greater, the bigger
the more glorious presence?
This constant need to see other than oneself as the source.
Even with a brain (and we know Frank Baum has told us
only STRAW men don’t have brains) we refuse to see,
refuse like a baby forced to eat mashed peas.
We make our children are we their God’s? Hell no!
We name this Creator (for man is nothing-if not a naming animal).
(The father says Da; the baby says DA! Da says cat, baby says CAT!)
Life cannot exist for man without a naming, a judgment, a categorizing.
We cannot GROK it (as Heinlein's Christ character, Valentine Michael Smith
illustrates for us in Stranger in a Strange Land).
For something, someone, has to have made us, yes? no?
Oh yes, they had to consciously decide to make
something as marvelously special as us, didn’t they/it?
* Please refer back to verse 2 line 5.
Where, oh where, is God? When will the man-child stop,
stop searching for the teat, stop the blame game,
accept the responsibility for fouling His own nest?
Why does God have to look like us?
Does everything we create look like us (the light bulb, the car)?
Does that mean there is NO primogeniture if He/she/it doesn’t look like us?
Wait, wait, all of Creation manifests differently, eco systems need
diversity to maintain homeostasis!
Yet we bawl like babies. WHY are You killing me!
Why must I die? What mutant child have you given me
this spawn of Satan!
This primogeniture, this God, this be all, end all, know all, BEING,
this omnipotent source either is outside of us? or inside of us?
Or are we inside of it? And, if it knows us not—
If like the amoeba, it simply divides to exist, absorbs to exist,
excretes to exist. Why do we insist on worshiping it?
Does It Know us? Does it know all of its creations?
Is it an active participant in its own creations?
Refer to the book of life, the planet earth,
the solar system, the structure of an atom.
Use the brain you were given by God
for YOU are not a Straw Man.
First Published in 2013 Sweet Dreams and Night Terrors
Part 3
9th Delerium: Emptyness
Water wheels in wastelands... turning,
drowning relics in the slum
Rumpled rags of fashioned burlap... burning,
lit by bandits blind and dumb
Pastured prisons, ponies bridled ... yearning,
forest fairies under thumb
Sounds inside of cauldrons coughing... churning,
blaring bugles, tattooed drum
10th Delirium: Alienation
Rain unravelling, wistfully weeping... falling,
treacle trickling, fickle sky
Mushrooms sprinkled, visions sprouting... sprawling,
seagulls drowning, dolphins die
Rabble gasping, spirits broken... crawling,
lonely lonesome swallows cry
Babbling brooks and breakers ebbing... bawling
puppies paddle, puppets sigh
People passing ripple past me... calling,
rainbow colours, collars high
Chaos seething, lepers looting... stalling,
stealing stallions on the sly
Pencils pausing, scholars scrambling... scrawling,
scratching scribbles, asking why
11th Delirium: Jetsam
Silver sails sway pallid pirates... prowling,
Jolly Rogers, wind and sound
Parrots perching, tattered feathers... fouling,
tethered talons, tied and bound
Shipwrecked foghorns, trumpets stranded... howling,
spiral springs of time unwound
Magic moonlight, shimmers shaking... scowling,
burnt out matchsticks washed aground
Prairie wolfs, coyotes calling... yowling,
witching hours, midnight hounds
Tightrope walkers, grizzlies grunting... growling,
seeking islands, lost and found
12th Delirium: Relief
Slumber shattered, vapours captive... haunting,
chained in mirrors, breaking free
Scarlet skylines, daylight dawning... daunting,
rivers rushing to the sea
Silence softens, sandmen whisper... wanting,
piercing rafters, turning keys
Shadows shudder, notions fluster... flaunting,
moonbeam bullets meant for me
Mind in migraine, meadows trembling... taunting,
sparrows speak in harmony
REAWAKENING
Pitter patter, teardrops paling... pearling,
salting scarves in secret drawers
Mist amongst us, smoke rings rising... curling,
climbing from the ocean floors
See-saw circles, senses swerving... swirling,
swept away with silver oars
Courtyard jesters, sceptres twisting... twirling,
push the past to foreign shores
Passing pangs of passions heaving... hurling,
burning bridges, closing doors
Roses wither, icons waning... whirling,
time decays and time restores
End
We have so much color all around us
so much beauty to fill our senses
everything we see and touch and taste
in the songs we hear
in the scent of lovers mingled
in everything we've been given
there is a rainbow around us.
A multitude of shades and hues
from the bright of light
to the richest deep dark
to the red of blood
the essence of all life
coursing through the flesh
in which we live.
Red the color of life.
But hate has no color
it is void and blank
lashing out in its blindness
not caring at who it strikes
or what it takes.
The smell of hate is rank and vile.
It leaves a bitter taste
on the tongues of all who it touches.
It feeds on our minds
breeds in our hearts
makes us spill precious blood
planting its seed wherever it goes
soiling everything in its path
and fouling the air with its stink.
The color of hate is death
but the color of love
is a rainbow.
Love binds us together.
Unites us.
A tightly knit prism
of many hues blended
each one of us given a choice.
We can sow love into all we do
into every life we touch
and into all that we say
or we can hate.
I choose rainbows.
Save Malaysia Today
S - Some time ago, there was a sovereign fund named 1MDB...
A - All too soon, there were mounting allegations of suspicious activities...
V - Various allegations hinted of serious financial and administrative irregularities..
E - Ere you know it, the hot potato that is 1MDB is fouling up the economy...
M - My country Malaysia today is a nation of highly stressed daily living….
A - All my countrymen are suffering from a drastic rise in the cost of living…
L - Lives everywhere are struggling to cope with a falling economy…
A - As the drastic price rise in raw petroleum has pushed up pricings..
Y - Yet the government saw fit to introduce after 1st April 2015 GST, a pervasive
6% sales tax …
S - Sure enough, consumer prices immediately spiralled upwards as GST is a
cumulative form of tax…
I - In fact, the high petroleum price and this new sales tax has effectively double
the cost of living..
A - All Malaysians are increasingly disenchanted with the top man in the political
office…
T - There is a most historic gathering today of politicians in an effort to save the
Malaysian nation..
O - One impossible gathering of leaders from the ruling political party in cahoots
with the opposition …
D - Demands were made through various speeches presented by all the political
bigwigs in attendance..
A - All were in agreement that illegal donations, GST and 1MDB were linked to the
top minister's silence …
Y - Yet to be seen, will this gathering and a Citizen Declaration be just the spark to
save Malaysia?
The honesty of kin, childhood, the win
to have it all, the prize, the goal,
a Mother's prayer, the senseless maul,
somewhere within my reach, still small!
The hot wheel, faded, paintless steel
within my hand ~ my heart did feel
my Son, but three or four reveal
his coping, his new life, my teel.
The years, fond scheme, and yet within
this child still reckon with esteem
his choices, hurts, constants begin
my focused art, would still find glean!
Within the sewing basket tucked
amidst the buttons, colors mixed,
this small child's toy, not run amuck
scavenged quixotic Mother's fix!
His heyday, now at fifty-two
amidst the bulging corporate trade,
once tiny, sweet, His eyes of blue
but focused on toy cars parade!
Now oil and gas, a larger trek
all busy, but with time so pressed,
a family home, the still recess
of waiting for their coverage blessed!
From small to big, a child's ingress
resumes from trusting through duress
the simple moments of caress
are chosen monument's suggest!
God keep my courage to arrest
those seaming giant's fouling sport,
that from some innocence' impress
ambition's honesty to test!
Contention's wander, thereby less
the larger goal retreat, reveal
the cost of money brings duress
a childhood's faith, much quieter . . . . real!
a tear fights his way through desolation
the purple summer flower is snapped
hope expired to memorial
green fields are hermetically sealed
mud splashes fouling soft cheeks
the worst in humanity has been reached
childhood dreams buried by cruelty
salt burns painful in bleeding wounds
monsters shuffling around
nailing hard steel in bare walls
behind the scenes reigns vipers
ruthless sounds die away in the cosmos
@ Bianca & Gerhard
Today, I was determined to fly a kite;
There was plenty of wind with no clouds in sight.
Strenuously I checked the strength of the twine;
I didn’t want any troubles fouling up my line.
The knots that I tied were quite snug;
Each line was checked with a mighty tug.
Then I attached an elongated tail
To the kite’s bamboo frame with a trusty nail.
The kite’s blue silk was speckled with dots,
Like blue cheese with a bunch of white spots.
I picked up the kite; I started to run;
As I fed out some line, the kite soared straight for the sun;
I could only squint as I felt the sun’s rays;
It scorched my inquisitive gaze.
Suddenly, I felt an uncomfortable lurch
As the kite fell from its lofty perch;
I raised the bobbin in the opposite direction,
Quite certain I made the appropriate correction.
As time marched by, the sun’s glow faded;
Threatening clouds sprang up deeply shaded.
The warm air vanished; the wind began to howl;
The lightning was on the prowl.
The kite began to yaw; the sky to fall;
Like a numbing dread came the squall.
Torrents of rain thrashed against my face;
Nothing dry was left to chase.
Lightning stretched across the angry sky;
After a pause, there was a thunderous cry.
I never before lost a kite, nor did I set one adrift into the night.
If the line is cut would that be right?
Kneeling in the freezing mud, I rewound the twine;
Yet, when my fingers numbed; I cut the line.
Suddenly, not ten feet from my right was a bright streak of light;
It plunged into the mud with a great fright.
Bobbin in hand, I dashed for my car; I didn’t get far;
I slipped in the mud wounding my pride with a scar.
Safely in the warmth my car, I rested; slowly I closed my eyes,
I then realized that my life was the prize.
I've got a clever new invention in the works
Going to make a fortune when I work out a few quirks
It's no bigger that a breadbox and lighter than a feather
It's easily transported and is not affected by the weather
It measures poetry frustration on a scale of one to ten
Sounding an alarm when you must put down your pen
It measures blood pressure, caffeine, and problems with the soup
You can even program it to give a heads-up to your group
The idea is to prevent the loss or graying of your hair
And to keep expletives from fouling up the air
To keep the cost down it comes in just one style
Am working on a sporty model if you can wait awhile
So--
If on the brink of insanity poetry makes you teeter
You may want to try my trusted Fruspoemeter......
I heard the things you have been saying
I felt it when the city woke up,
as cars have started practice; fouling
the still of morning air and bringing
a death to night, now found at sunup
my heart will seek a hidden meaning
a secret word in what you gave me
there must be one in this of dreaming,
of wondering on that which can't be,
searching all the haunted eyes I see
As some unspoken word will settle
the dream of dreams that follows, seething
the thought so drowned ever by metal
bleak and worn my heart has tried to be.
Ostracized by society we have been relegated
To small corners and alleys, segregated
Not given the same rights and attention
As those that are dementing the nation
We don’t deserve to be victimized
If you don’t believe; look into our eyes
The same we frown, the same we grin
But for a habit we are kin within
We have been blamed for fouling the air
While hoards of steel carriages go by without care
We have been taxed and told that we must pay
For the sins that cost the rest so much, they say
But what of lost days due to hangover, and the marriages trashed
Or the thousands injured or killed by a drink induced crash
This perverted nation that took prayer from our schools
Steals freedom of choice and allows the godless to rule
Keeps trying to find new places in which it’s nose to poke
None where it belongs and all should anger provoke
So be politically correct and let prejudice die
You all have your vices that no one denies
So leave us to smoke if that’s the choice that we make
If cancer we get, that the chance that we take
We mean no harm to man nor beast
But of all society we are loved the least
All we ask is to be treated with fairness, and spare us
Don’t pass us and pretend our lives have no merit
Give us our freedom and we will once again be able
To solve the world’s problems out back, at the smokers table
The mind fractures
and motes grow roots
beneath fabrication.
These are my eyes that see
another reality, where shadows crawl
like fingers upon a chalk board,
and torrent that spews from my tongue
is a voice I’ve never heard,
all that history buried beneath pseudo-reality
an angel mum who folded her wings
to ride the devil bare-back
and a sister who seduced
her father, her brother, a façade mother
releasing this monster in me.
He did no wrong
just stepped a little to close,
shattered the ambit of personal space
until I could lick his cologne,
-bastard-
fouling my shroud, threatening my superiority.
(why is it always surprise
that leaks from their eyes,
when bone and blade are fused)
I am negative god,
shearing a rib to take life;
returning all to dust
and steel is my power, my glory
for ever and ever.. amen.
His (my) fear lingered,
staining the air infecting my (his) lungs;
his (my) screams lightning in my brain
as I carved sin from his (my) smile.
There was flesh, red, raw flesh,
like road-kill scattered across the golden mile;
a menstruation of moonless blood,
pooled with sweat and urine.
-so sweet, sensual-
[This wasn’t me]
Quickly now,
spear the eyes like lollipops;
“see no evil”
Split the tool of lies;
“speak no evil”
Take the possibility of truth;
“hear no evil”
This man (me?),
lining the gutter like an unfinished take-away,
the main course of rats buffet,
with a long crooked smile
beneath the place it ought to be,
and I,
floundering in a maelstrom
of ecstasy from this person
that is (not) me.
Black shades cutting ice
breaks ground deeply ebony chills
darkness creeps closely consumed
Abandoned waste easily exhausted
lands with it's own need
The fire inside laced sulphur
burning ash inferno remains
Venom underneath clay mixed
To extinguish the light
Blank rage fills an empty void
buried inside hate scorned sadness
mixed with madness condemns
Demons dance
upon the flame hissing spits
As fossils from the past ghosts
haunting negative abuse hides
With tortured truth
lies underneath bankrupt happiness
Forever self inflicting harm
Empty existence fouling grace
cold silk pearls shame
crashing down the neck
From the shivering timbers
falling vacant love exist's hallowed
Broken mirror reflections
beyond repair or answers
one blur crushing every lost soul
pulling the trigger
Without good reason
or remorse suicidal death
Numb nothing crashes fate
beneath the soil held sponge captive
Trying to see a future
from within the shawl of suffering
life's fate hounds deals their cards
from the crook in their heart
Countless empty hours spent
Locked inside chains
battle scared
breaking free on the last breath