Best Millimeters Poems
Grounded are the feet that be in the elemental earth
Bounded we the legs that keep the motion of walks
Rounded is the dirt beneath as the pressure begins to mound
Founded the discovery to uncover knowledgeable talks
Sculpting melding seeping
The soil underground flowing heated molten
Melting shaping morphing
Formation created solid black rock ground
Steamy is the water of the magmatic oceans deep
Risen layers pillow topped stacked slowly in the chill
Solidifying new earthen life pushed through to a crusted rebuild
Slowly in the unseen depths where land is consuming sea
Wisps of wind waves whistle with gaseous fumes
Lofting liquid red as golden orange fissures spread bloody fires
Inches measured by millimeters mold metals magical blaze
Wild widening of gaps shallowly engraved a blackened glaze
Obsidian wasteland of a treacherous expanse gathered island life
Reflective surfaces weathered time breaking down rock to sand
Erosive washing of corrosive materials gritty consumed by forces of nature
Natural is the condensing of observatory images in the fluid eyes of man
Inspired by 'It's Elemental' By Carole Duet
HUMANS, ANTS AND SHADOWS
The smallest ants cast long shadows. . .
Little they are but see how discipline they can be
Millimeters apart, they all unify in a single file
It's a dismay that at some point
Humans, don't show such discipline
Instead of waiting for their turn
Sometimes one overtakes, one assumes
someone else's post just to be on time
selfish motive or emergency,
who knows?
Polymorphic ants, they merge
to do an umbrella of tasks
Humans regardless of status and age
All are entitled to do some chore
inside ones home, school or workplace
Hand and hand in a web of labor
Talking to each other
with their own way: pheromones
Some colonies act as one
but some misunderstands, they fight.
Humans as well does communicate
with the languages that abound this earth.
Hence, we can readily convey our thoughts
but still, highest among creations,
there are still confusions and war.
Amazing!
Such little creatures,
Ants and we, humans,
one way or another
cast long shadows. . .
_________________________
©O. E. Guillermo
03:31 pm, January 16, 2015
Note: Pheromones -- chemical substances released by insects (e.g. ants, bees, wasps etc.) the influences their physical behaviour particularly communication, signals.
I grew up with inches, yards, miles, and feet.
I knew the difference, it was easy, and neat.
But today I am far behind in the dust because
Metric scale is what the new math does.
Millimeters, centimeters, cha cha cha.
Pencil thickness is about one centimeter. Rah Rah Rah.
Ten Millimeters is one centimeter, reminds me of cents to a dollar.
I may be catching on, so I stand up and holler.
One hundred thousand centimeters is a kilometer, friend.
One hundred centimeters is a meter, did you know that, Uncle Ben?
Millimeters, centimeters, cha cha cha.
Paper thickness is way less than a centimeter. Rah Rah Rah.
Now I think of my recipes. Did they change the tablespoon too?
Do I have to worry about cups, pints, and gallons for my glue?
I used to know my measurements, but everything is new.
Don’t even show me the rest of the new math. It is a boo hoo.
Drive and drive but you can't get away
But what if the distance needed a break?
You travel and travel but it stays in place
Covering the world but can not move at pace
It wishes it could write or learn in normal life
have a family of Millimeters and go on Union strike
It wishes of love and the ability to breath
but it's only a unit of measurement you see
for it cannot be anything much more
then a unit of math and metric lore...
I'm feeling good, so I think I'll kick some multi syllable rhymes,
It's a known factor that I flow in undefinable time,
Because I'm killing it, I'm at an undeniable height,
and if you don't like it then you can show me your defiant side
Cause I got a meter, it's full with millimeters to go,
and it'll bust, the brush, will the coat the ground like snow
You listen to one punchline and your eardrums will implode,
Like drowning in the Pacific Ocean and sinking to the benthic zone
It's just to cold, to much pressure for your structure to withhold,
I'll disect you with words, and pick at your skull through damp bones
Through every last note, what I teach you is all that you know
The lesson has been taught, you learned, swallow your pride, and go home
I feel the friction when lead hits paper, and thoughts come to life
Form personification when thoughts speak, and honesty writes
the dictator, of mad rhymes, giving the frustration light,
And I form art because that's what I born to do, and that's right
Stir up some biological warfare, and mix up some chemical fumes,
You need a gas mask, to withstand what's gonna happen to you,
You gotta bad fortune, the palm reader was telling the truth,
Your reputation won't save you, from acid mist that forms dew
With words I torture, incase the rage, then let it out
Then cap it just time, nobody can hear your silent shouts,
you should've took another route, but you pushed these words out of my mouth,
And you made yourself a slave, with metaphors I'll rip you, that's what I'm about
Because of pent up emotions hiding within my skull,
It's easy for me to let loose, and leave the results unresolved
I'll leave you to the bidding, then like a chemical solution you'll disolve,
You'll regret stepping to me, like opening up a puzzle you can't solve
Destroying syllables, this is insanity incased in a beat
Trying to step to me, is like stepping with hot coals under your feet
I'll leave you in a daze, eyes glazed over because you thought you could defeat,
But my attributes were better than yours, cause I was raised by the streets.
Seven hundred and fifty millimeters between worlds-
Confined on one side,
the enormity of the ocean,
a contradiction to the sand on which it sits;
artificiality’s extravagance encompassed
in a delicate
bubble.
Just as its maker,
Under azure of neon and amongst
the life in its technicolor,
diverse, rare, immigrated;
Its foundation’s fluid is
submerged and alloyed into into the ground
that by itself is too loose for roots of its own.
We don’t look in;
We are.
And in that
what one tends to miss
in the mesmerism of the bubbles’s iridescent surface
is the reflection of an absence of light-
and jagged maw that lurks int it.
This premises is under surveillance.
The sharks muse at the spectacle too.
Glassy stares of dilated slits follow the prospect of prey;
Ignorant onlookers included.
There is no reason to actually follow through with function-
Like everything else in the sphere,
The belly of the beast is too full
to ever consider capability in the drift of their daydreams-
the thought,
in itself,
is empowering enough.
What is an aquarium after all,
But a simulated entrapment
of an interpreted reality?
I bet the sharks don’t have any questions regarding who feeds them.
4% mnm
Mountainous syllables can never really tread lightly across a rope bridge. But living in a cabbage house is fantastic fun for many leaves make many rooms and many rooms make much rubbish. Don't trip over the staircases. Nor the bins. Nor the fireplaces. Be safe in an oceanographic breeze. It is often wise to counter count. And never leave a leaf door ajar. Ok? Good. Fodder not a fried fish. Especially when driving a forklift truck. Ponder not the wonder of a damsel on a butterfly couch. How very sedate! But neither seductive nor secretive for serpentines are often deceptively shark like. Particularly when partially shaded by a curtain. Pull shut then open to reveal. Wow such revelational defects. How quite ornate. And a man in a suit with a small briefcase is often as round as a round house. No spring in a portly framed partridge. But carrying a cartridge through the airspaces can bring a ship to life. Smiling. Waves kiss the sides. And sailors play swan lake on harmonicas and violins for the dusk often brings dust. And to halt is to delay only for points are gained by talking treadmill like in large halls with lecterns'. Drink then. Capsicum rice flavoured juice creates much lemon spittle. How rather remarkable are the quotes from the pickled saged cavern dwellers in yachts awaiting the demise of development. The continuation of a fluctuation is a fascination for a fattened form. And so the bead arrives on slightly bended knee in a small sixteenth century chapel. Hum not a tune of trotting uniforms and hooves. No haha to that. It is merely a zero percent of a demonic deficit sweep. Swimmingly seemingly surpassing swamps. And a door swinging happily. Haha jumping jamming junipers. Hahaha statutory static void. Hahahaha xx pea leap. Xxxxx monopolistic Z with the p y q. 89.0. Xzx
Four millimeters of tempered glass separates your world
from the Homeless Beggar Prince now standing before you
appearing tattered, torn and trampled on like discarded trash.
No longer a viable phoenix rising to escape winter’s burn.
Merely a grounded mortal traversing icicle stares with an
aged back and fingers that he had once worked to the bone.
Long forgotten building blocks for a house and a home
Blizzards came tirelessly with every season to wreak havoc upon his
crumbled foundation. Putting him out into the cold to face the face, of our
harsh reality, where it’s a tundra full of thin ice, and a dog eat dog world.
Piercing watery eyes reflect upon your hidden self, and his frost
laden beard parts to say aloud “If not by the grace of God…there go I.”
White knuckles grip your steering wheel tightly as the chill exits your spine
“Thank God!” you exclaim, now, that the traffic light has turned green.
Pure white with golden font
Millimeters numbered just right
Thick enough only for distortion
Smooth to the tongue
Held perfectly at my fingertips..
But it'll slide right down your throat
A pill of death for a musician
The lump stuck for hours
Breakfast food fights it down
To the acidic pit
Hopefully melting away
Releasing the inner toxin..
The beginning of a bad omen
I swallowed a White Fender Medium
Late night communications
The girl of my thoughts for weeks
Happy and comfortable
Accomplishing a beautiful feat
Secrets become unsurfaced
Everything that flourished is dead..
I swallowed a White Fender Medium
Cold weather ahead
Windows shattering at great times
Gusts of air paralyzing our bodies
Vacuum the sharp remnants
Frozen hands with an aching soul
These shards are just the beginning..
I swallowed a White Fender Medium
They were always special to me
A musician's charm of good fortune
Karma despises my weapon of choice
Instinctive feelings are nothing
Plastic, rounded triangle with letters engraved
So much for the lovely theme..
A Fender White Medium..
I swallowed that stupid guitar pick..
Baltimore,
again.
8 AM, sweating, shaking
on the verge of puking up
stomach acid.
the car is dead silent.
are we early?
are they late?
is this how its going to be
forever?
who knows.
who cares.
i’ve been watching time
pass and slip through
the cracks between my fingers.
it seems more apparent
than usual.
we are parked at a gas pump.
each time i make eye contact
its quickly broken.
i know what they are thinking.
‘what a shame.’
‘my morning could be worse.’
maybe they even feel
gratitude.
as they finish filling up,
i watch them reach for
their phones.
i wonder if they are calling
their daughters and sons.
on the surface,
just to check in.
but inwardly,
thankful their children
aren’t heroin addicts.
no one wants their baby to grow up
to be
a junkie.
i steal a glance at my other half
she’s ill
but she’s beautiful.
she’ll feel better soon enough.
a young handsome black man
starts over
and my heart
skips a beat.
we exchange currency
for oblivion.
we drive away to find
somewhere to hit.
it feels like
my first kiss.
i can’t remember what makes me happy anymore.
my happiness is
artificial
and fits nicely
in a syringe.
when i get on,
i can breathe again.
i melt into the passenger seat,
successful.
i watch her try to find a vein,
in and out of consciousness.
she’s millimeters away from getting well.
she’ll get there.
i let myself nod but
for a moment,
i wonder
what that young, handsome black man
wanted to be
when he grew up.
i guess it doesn’t matter.
everyone crosses paths at the bottom.
Who Pulls The Trigger
The degree of difficulty diminishes
conscience and justice dim
the fog of zealous denial.
A trigger is squeezed
each millimeter
an agony
each millisecond
a lifetime.
Sharp recoil awakens reality
SCAN QUICKLY TO SLOWY
ACQUIRE TARGET, RESIGHT
resist the pressure
of the trigger
resist the resistance to it.
Death comes
sometimes quickly
always slowly.
The finger compresses
time, life, right, wrong
milliseconds
millimeters.
In a large office
a “leader”
looks at his hands
examines his nails
SCANS QUICKLY TO SLOWLY
ACQUIRES TARGET, RESIGHTS
This distant trigger finger
compresses a button
no conscience
no justice
no connection
to faces
dying.
1/9/2017
submitted to – You Say You Want a Revolution – Poetry Contest
Futile effort to plunger the clogged kitchen sink...
courtesy malfunctioning garbage disposal
which won't be removed
by onsite maintenance man
UNTIL/UNLESS
fruit fly excreta wiped off
(impossible to access)
areas along bathroom and kitchen walls
so communicated "the warden."
Thus we (yours truly and his missus)
subjected to inhale
putrid, offal, and noxious
smelling stagnant water
until every streak
telltale sign regarding Drosophila melanogaster
exuded excretory evidence
vanishes without a trace
vis a vis thru cutting
qua yellow elbow grease.
Aforementioned hardy critter
approximately three millimeters in length
and two millimeters in width
one defiant little bugger
proliferate - reproductive propensity
of fruit fly enormous
under ideal circumstances
female lays about 500 eggs
impossible mission to exterminate
or extinguish pesky species
without declaring total mortal kombat,
and even then
no guarantee targeted
above named mite size bug
nsync with his/her brethren
blown to smithereens.
Despite all pervasive existence
plus ingress into mine nasal passage
as nostril dam us foretold
annoyance on par with midges
flying up into nose
far more tolerable
synonymous with lesser of two evils
versus exhausting these lovely bones
tirelessly suctioning refuse
pooling fetid water.
I will seriously ponder
posting gofundme site
as a last ditch effort
to escape nauseating
effluence out the plumbing bowels
worse smell than rotten Gotham
sliding down into behavioral sink
if management here
at Highland Manor Apartments
decrees fiat all secretion
indeed linkedin with fruit fly eliminated.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2uqZhnqHMAg
The orchestra strains to be symphonic --- a bee in a tin box.
Cigar smoke thunders, molecules of sound wilt
only to be dialed up through brass lungs.
The combo is quaintly upholstered, a classic sports car
driven by Disney. Outmoded refrains gurgle.
We see the obsolete road ahead, feel the bumps,
the lack of shock absorbers.
The third piano concerto, the romance of the exile.
1940 is pulled from under its Perspex lid, served up
as fresh Prosciutto di Parma consumed in a diner
long derailed.
The mind warps eras, Michelangelo has gone Hollywood,
the 'Creation' sketched on a paper napkin.
Last notes.
Hands too large for tuxedoed minds, stamp
like rhapsodic elephants.
Percussive fingers slam-dunk ivory tusked themes,
Russian bells quake California.
Rolling vespers outgrowing each decade,
times now locked in a recovery CD millimeters thin.
~~~
https://www.thetruthaboutcars.com/2010/10/sergei-rachmaninoff-car-guy-aero-investor/
DOWN TO EARTH PLEASURES
Tyres screech and we’re down
Glad of it
Something satisfying about walking
---Where grass and flowers grow
On solid earth instead
Of an aluminum floor
With nothing growing
And only millimeters separate me from nothing
---Where turbulence affects only swirling leaves
And thunderclouds threaten only a drenching
And pressure on ears
Comes only from the dog’s tongue
"Im scared" I whispered, eyes big round and green,
Fingers twirling a strand of strawberry blond hair,
Twisting it around nervously, brushing pink blushing cheeks.
The sky dark with twilight, two stars overwatching us,
We stand millimeters apart beneath the silver moon,
Grass of green and wheat of silver reaching up, brushing our thighs.
Dew drops glitter in the incandescent skylight,
Violet brushing mountian tops with color,
Deeper shadows producing richer shades around.
"Have I ever led you in the wrong direction, not to trust me?" His eyes,
Darker then golden, more mossy then green in the dark,
Held love, profoundly, deep emotion, and now hurt.
The moon, outlined his shoulder length black hair,
The ends twisting with the May humidity, into loose curls,
It outlined his hard body, ridgid, with accustion.
My eyes, anxiously looked into his, peering into his soul,
Ivory fingers, cold from the air, found comfort in his curls,
stepped closer, breaths mingeling, and touched his lips sweetly.
"No." I let the whisper escape from my aching lips,
Aching for more, needing, wanting, begging, for another kiss,
My heart beat pounding slowly, knowingly-he spoke truth.
His hand brushed my cheek, bringing warmth from the sleeping sun,
His eyes searched mine, trained only on eachother,
The world could wake and we would never noticed.
The glittering orbs outlined in black lash,
Softened now, held question mixed gently in them,
His lips touched mine, moments before he whispered into them.
"Then trust me." the words carressed my perked ears,
My eyes closed, half drawn lids at his nuzzles,
Lightly grazing the soft skin on my bare neck.
My fingers found his hand, strong, sturdy, callosed softness,
Went to move it up to touch my body, while his fibers breathed extasy,
He intertwined our fingers, and i remembered it was my first intent.
Caught up in the moment, the delicate moonlit movement,
Our tongues lightly, roughly, softly, danced,
Parted again, to share a sweet love-bloomed breath.