Best Metabolic Poems


Premium Member The Inclination of Glass Cannons

Shuttling beyond the lay
Of the land that may
End at the water,
Splash and fish, tide and otter.

War birds knocking stars from Heaven,
Wolf packs moving, six or seven
Or eight, the modern metabolic rate,
Society redeems the weight of hate.

Reversions to no merry mean,
We wash to make the world unclean,
We wash to upraise our station,
We wash to conclude causation.

Taking my place within the past,
An epic form of gratification,
I won't outlast, the die is cast,
So let's get on with vilification.

Bright sunny days, untrammeled ways or
Other poets' words so light,
Yet I shift and stray, I make the play for
The coming armies of the night.

The Perfectionist Is Listening

The Perfectionist is Listening

the rich are committing suicide
and taking us with them
the prosthetic limbed bastards
Fort Darwin tottering on fewer stilts
once the masters of the universe
presently picking through garbage
looking for an Icarus to pilot
some way back among the clouds
their telepathic goon squads 
armed with the hard on of God
squat in the darkness of doorways
lightning strikes all around
even their machines were clairvoyant
several thousand watts went up my leg
shorting out the only attention span I own
left me perforated but not lacy
wearing all my masks all the time 
fragments of self are selves
in a bulemic deconstruction
where form and content 
mud wrestle incessantly for attention
on the crazy train to 3 color hell
the protagonists the antagonists
fornicators masturbators liquidators
pariahs and unlicensed poets
preaching hellstone and brimfire
apparently the ancient gods still rule 
in their madhouse heaven
petulant and stupid gods 
thought their figures included all the angles
sword point conversions gun point perversions
now their carcasses are steppingstones
what quirk of an infinite being
makes this burning plague village 
of a planet so alone and necessary
of course none of this is protection
it's psywar out there kids 
better find where they hid your dossier
mesmerized of the world unite
you have nothing to lose
but your failed methods of addressing reality
said his twisting tongue
struggling for ratings like any media
the soul cannot erase it can only go sightless
a phantom trapped in melancholy
when we were built to dance 
with the twinkling stars
he finally learned to undestroy memory
being an ascended master of non sequitur
carried aloft in the arms of Mother Goose
his metabolic hurricane of why
an inferno of intrigue and superstition
our embryo-headed UFO ruling class 
have me inside their fence of skulls
an investment in diagram futures
the idiots



From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/

Delirium Divides

In the corner of my room,
you’ll find many a decentralizing delirium dust
Where my mind does consume, 
peripheral visions of a malevolent distrust
Deprivations that entomb, 
metabolic disturbances of cunning combust
Temporal lesions loom,
of psychotic disorders in a state of thriving thrust.

I see you but cannot touch, 
thru nociceptive nightmares nurturing night
Hallucinogens that will crutch, 
frantic neurons paleocortical penal plight
I feel you but cannot clutch,
a dimensional dementia in a demons fright
Denunciative delusions a monstrous much,
external images in fetal flight.

I sense you but cannot taste, 
chemoreceptic catacombs of a pernicious smell
Stimuli distortions of waste, 
proprioceptors penetrating the gates of hell
The love I give is displaced,
impalpable illusions within a condemned cell
The love received defaced, 
from a schizophrenic defamatory defunctive dwell.





July.16.2020
Delirium Poetry
Sponsored by~
Kai Michael Neumann

N/A for contest


Bad Breeding

the list that was a fist
a) it is possible
b) it is inevitable
chained to a million pleasures
an astonishing compendium of compulsions
honed bright with a fool's ardor
the kind you'd wish for in a movie script
undulating at the tar pits of amor 
the land rich with autographs
bruised and humiliated reciting the alphabet
backwards on the curb with Officer *****
a limited perspective but not without its ironies
blazing trails to metabolic equilibrium
using every crutch and cane there is
to seek out and embrace ignorance
in a fanciful play of medieval shadows
colliding with the grace of mosh pit elbows
and that pretty much nails it
the rest is a problem of amplification
if looking can blind you I'm blind
he seems to have a button gone missing
ripe to the skies with the stink of deduction
hell was upon us and none grieved
in statistically relevant numbers
apparently they had finally reached
the bottom of the barrel
we still wage war upon feudalism
good advice for any century or cemetery
touch something holy once in a while
and mighty Thor will wing above
ah sure right uh huh you bet
needing humor the wires tried to sing 
the blades of the switch bit the anode
all is broadcast everywhere right now
on all the boogie woogie coordinates
how's that for karmic indifference
some curse some utter gratitude
may the good fairy console you
and turn the illusion of warmth
up a little higher
since it hasn't yet been made a crime 
to destroy your own mind
until the foundations of the world
thunder and come apart like cooked meat
but working on the problem 
is better than nothing
even if you really don't know 
all that you think you know
even if hideously scarred in battle
a terra cotta bust hot from the oven
smelling of sulfur and bruises
tempted by radiance and music and poetry
which could get you jailed tonight
so pretend you have wide angle vision
under a curse with an escape clause
in varying pedantic proportions
for another illegal exit
from Average and its Law
played to hI fives all around
kindling fires of rebellion
the Metaphor League saw to it


From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/

Wistful Woebegone Yesteryear

Perhaps like a lightning
bolt of clear out of the blue
rigor mortis (tenon and
three decades hence)
two thousand fifty nine if you
count from January 13th 2019, adieu

attest that day 9 months I did brew
in wound (of the late Harriet Harris),
now finds me loved ones
crying boo hoo,
after this stiff mortal
Earthling bid toodle loo

with symbolic casket
(carrying cremated urn of ashes)
remembrance attended
by gentile and Jew
sharing positive memories purportedly
about this nondescript 

fellow they knew
mainly indirectly, poignantly,
and wickedly shot thru
with his insightful humorous scribblings,
plus magnus opus titled
"How do ye do,"

an informal rambling missive bereft
of any subject and
devoid with little clue,
the purpose of said hefty tome 
out weighing The Federalist circa: knew
lee after American independence

Papers, written by true
purrs under the pseudonym "Publius" 
but great (as a great doorstop), or
alight as tinder for barbeque
since many admirers never
read his text written in Hebrew,

fluency acquired spending
final years he grew
old, since automatic citizenship
granted based on genetic goo
plus Mediterranean climate helped promote
longevity to century his health did hew

thus naturally pronounced philosophy,
where he drew
quite a wide web asper the many
claims Matthew Scott did eschew
to maintain longevity (more
quackery than science), but who

could dispute glorious
principles, not to poo poo
analogous to placebo effect
harmless fervent coping methods,
whether to cure ague
interestingly enough he cited ack hue

puncture for a gamut of physical ills
as well he did advocate chew
wing food (after taking small bites)
until mouthful became pulpy slew
(proponent of Fletcherism), this to
exercise dentures in addition

to maximize stew
pen diss experience of simple
routine eating view
wing thoroughly good (by George)
said quotidian activity grew
tubby spiritual, similarly basic

functions in general did get skew
ward whereby meditation on intrinsic,
metabolic and scholastic 
processes to name a few
added a dimension of enhancement prior to
exiting life into frontier mortals can only rue.

Magic Ruins

in the rusty tide animating bones
of deluded gods reaching for the lie
etched on eroded steles in dead lisps
licking flames of seers tossing guts
filled with blue and red fascists 
infecting the hands of the curious
willing to taste microscopic spiders
gulping their blood pumping poisonous
chants of starlit fevers soaking doubts
in baptismal orgasms growing fingers
measuring spirits down to the remnants
of angels sleeping in cellars drinking
emotions of residents disheveling linen
drenched fear perspiring throughout eye
movements of broken nightmares straining
to be painted in fixed oil imbued with lead
thoughts cracking in corridors hallucinating
dripping madmen sharpening revolts smearing
screeching phrases fed intravenously milking
the life of beasts for ravenous wisdom awaits
cold to the heart thuds of silence defy adages
preaching surrender to the surgeon’s pride
flashing silver pain pooling mercury bulges
of phallic power parading atrocity elements
churning in the metabolic circumference of Gaia
digesting busts of Caesars forgetting Romana
as peace basks in the annihilation of metabolism
directing the jet-streams crossing sunrise
and sunset like catholic rites glossy and gilt
flat personages etched by bright children
bending down to surrender to the priests
speechless in empty piety moaning high-
ways returning in internal engines conbusting
beside Masonic erections adorned with devils
sliding between walls where innocence lived
yellowed pages of periodicals recall fabrications
stitched into the screens of televisions changing
until the entire hymn of Satan rests in every palm
© Alex Roth  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Our World Is Crying

Our planet is weeping, and faith is at low and vacillate.
A severe risk as a result of the global warming challenge 
Concerns have arisen as an outcome of a wavering climate.

It is not due to hairspray or baby oil; it's our fate.
Rapidly melting Arctic glaciers are causing damage.
Our planet is weeping, and faith is at low and vacillate.

Carbon from fossil fuels is the major emission element.
A ferocious shockwave of metabolic blaze stage.
Concerns have arisen as an outcome of a wavering climate.

Concerns around the ozone hole depletion sprout.
Sea level is rising due to melting ice and warmer plage.
Our planet is weeping, and faith is at low and vacillate.

War and turmoil look trivial compared to climate.
Despite that our kids are at risk, newly threats emerge.
Concerns have arisen as an outcome of a wavering climate.

 
To allow plant life to thrive, we need to alter our zest.
Retain the air safe and car-free with zero carbon discharge.
Our planet is weeping, and faith is at low and vacillate.
Concerns have arisen as an outcome of a wavering climate.


Written April 20, 2021

A MAJOR WORLD PROBLEM Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: L MILTON HANKINS
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.

Delirium Dust

Delirium Dust


In the corner of my room you’ll find many a decentralizing delirium dust
Where my mind does consume peripheral visions of malevolent distrust
Deprivations that entomb metabolic disturbances of cunning combust
Temporal lesions loom of psychotic disorders in a state of thriving thrust

I see you but can not touch thru nociceptive nightmares nurturing night
Hallucinogens that will crutch frantic neurons paleocortical penal plight
I feel you but can not clutch a dimensional dementia in a demons fright
Denunciative delusions a monstrous much external images in fetal flight

I sense you but can not taste chemoreceptic catacombs a pernicious smell
Stimuli distortions of waste proprioceptors penetrating the gates of hell
The love I give is displaced impalpable illusions within a condemned cell
The love received defaced from a schizophrenic defamatory defunct dwell.




March/11/2018
Hallucination
Sponsored by: Brendan J. Simons

Apologize

An apology is a letter we write with our hearts to those that we know we’ve wronged so that we will be able to make the situation a little less hurtful than it was when it started.  They don’t always work, but those that do have a tenancy to make us a bit better, although the emotion still remains even after. 

And, when it doesn’t work, we continue to sit by and let the emotions fester and boil into a soup of metabolic fuel called anger. We let is metastasize within us, staying there and whispering little things into our ears, and becoming the thing we call a grudge. And when we finally do see the light, we either had enough confidence and morality to even bother to forgive, or we were the same cowards that walk away every time there’s a scrape or a fight instead of standing up for themselves as they should.

We can’t always control what goes up or down in the roller coaster we’re forced to ride on a daily basis.  But what we can do is forgive.  We can’t always forget when we should or remember what we must when we need to, but the least we can do is forgive.  Because sometimes forgiveness has less to do with the pain of the heart and more to do with the pain of the mind.

Premium Member Snow Globe Refreshment

Presenting to the emergency room, patient "BB,"
a dad who swallowed a snow globe carelessly.

Out of ALC, voices crying, "YOLO,"
PO, he took a big gulp of fantasy snow.

NAGI, his stomach churned immediately.
He could hear little elves dancing with a BEG.

Brought to the ER unconscious with HBP,
HAGMA, and tachypnea, unfortunately.

A CT scan revealed a kidney infection.
MDs dispensed an antibiotic injection.

Dialysis was administered, but he was still KO.
His kidney's were decorated in crystals of "snow."

Ten WKs later he could walk again (to the bar),
but will likely need dialysis 4EVR.

You are what you eat, (BB made a recovery)
but don't be a snowflake, the moral of the story.

(Watch the attached video for the full story.)


ALC- alcohol
YOLO- you only live once
PO- by mouth
NAGI- not a good idea
BEG- big evil grin
ER- emergency room
HBP- high blood pressure
HAGMA- high anion gap metabolic acidosis 
CT- computerized tomography
MD- medical doctors
KO- knocked out
WK- week
4EVER- forever

3-21-2021
ACRONYMS IN COUPLETS Poetry Contest
Sponsor: L MILTON HANKINS

Wait Loss


Patient Hope is on a stoic decline
The celluloid tread mill 
is crybaby set 
on an aorta sob incline —  
A cardio faithless, vertical whine

Shouldering the weight of personal decisions,
is seen nowadays 
as an irresponsible, bulimic activity

Cares of the world
will surely take an unkind toll 
on the body and soul

Lust obesity trick imagery
is a mirror mirage 
of illusory, measured wait loss

But how much wasted time 
in your slouch sofa life did it cost?

For a slimmer waistline,
Vanity became your sin slave boss

Phat pocket dreams
binge bought on a lottery coin toss

Puffed up pride made you take a wait loss

Virtuous self-denial sacrifices
is a lost art — 
an unpracticed part
of flabby moral muscle shedding

Taut bellies of bloated importance 
(attained through artificial,
sweaty palm wait loss)
is a self-absorbed sin of indulgence

Rash prayers desiring rushed results,
be a twig spandex figure 
uncertainty marred by obese doubt

And discarding of the necessary, 
healthy heft of navel faith
is a wait loss ...

Unnatural mental womb aerobics,
that an anorexic spirit 
chose to exercise 
at a flatline metabolic rate

Premium Member The Tree of Nutrition

A child is born,
Drinking from the Tree of Nutrition,
Growing strong and free.

With brown eyes and curly hair,
A symbol of the past and present,
This little one holds on tight,
Tears falling as the offering is given.

From the omnipotent Tree,
Metabolic characteristics are formed,
Breathing in oxygen and nitrogen,
Amidst the cacophony of life.

But to the developed ear,
This cacophony means love and joy,
A conduit between Agape's love
And the fear of the undeveloped.

The perfection of six,
A wellspring sanctuary grown,
Holding this child in my arms,
I am in my true form,
Agape's developed presence.

Metamorphic - a Change For the Better

And did you really know before
What on earth is a meta for?
It makes you understand, I think
What changes when you have a drink
Another example might well be
What changes when you carve a tree
And as for metabolic rate
That’s why your fat me dear old mate
Whereas a metaphor If sought
Might just give you some food for thought
© Mike Youds  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member The Perfection of Six

Grown from a wellspring sanctuary, drinking from the Tree of Nutrition,
A child is born, a small hand clings to my finger, tears fall and the offering has been given.

Your brown eyes, your curly hair, is a place between past and present.
When I'm holding you, I'm in my True form, Agape's Developed presence.

Metabolic characteristics formed from an omnipotent Tree,
Learning to breath oxygen and nitrogen at the expense of cacophony.

That cacophony means love, life, and joy to the Developed ear,
That cacophony is the conduit between Agape's love and undeveloped fear.
 

The Perfection of Six.

Metabolic Milieu

Burnished, bronze steeples
Early-Autumn, hoary frost
Blanching, falling leaves

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