Best Mushed Poems
Your words lance through to bone, acid sizzling into every hole
I haven't filled in, yet I dig, and ponder, and dig, filling in.
I still rock where the echoes of door slammed shut, bounce around
like a crazed nut of truth, crazed distorted view, walls where none existed.
The lifeline of my life was a frail strand on the morning breeze
I could pull into view, ride like a youth jumping the ocean waves
that you sucked into the cold vacuum of your jealous ways
and not ending there, you stole the skate board, stole the waves
locked me into a endless stuffed food binge where doubt could be sweetened
but locked me further into a closed room, like a finished book
that no one wanted to read the first time or the last or ever
because it answered no questions, kissed no lips, hungered for nothing
gave nothing back to the children of the wave, children of the clouds
and then squished all the children into little mushed piles you ate
and then complained they had no blood left. I dig, with this trowel
wanting a mirror of burial, where the skies can rain down upon the muck
and quiet your words, quiet your harping, quiet your blows upon pride
and leave me a trowel upon which I can live out or die, piling scar tissue
over endless lies, over the cries of hungry children, over the cries
of forgotten waves and restore someday the laughter and surprise of life.
I was a happy little water droplet
Playing in a cloud
Until lightning struck
And thunder clapped loud
Stopping all my mirth
Dropping me to earth
Joining many others
Of my sisters and brothers
Bobbing wild and rampant
In a surging torrent
Towards a dam
Causing quite a jam
In a pipe so black
With no way back
Chlorinated pure
Like I’ve never been before
Jailed in a tray
With cells all the way
Frozen in a cube until used
Dropped into whisky
Making me quite frisky
To the sound of “Cheers”
I disappeared
Down a gullet to a stomach
Mushed to and fro
Told to go
To a loo full of poo
Down a sewer full of mice
That really was not nice
Finally to the sea
Where I was free
To have some fun
Floating in the sun.
Feeling emancipated
Zap!. Evaporated
Into a happy little water droplet
Playing in a cloud
Hoping not to hear the thunder clapping loud.
Bananas
Here come the sailors of the Seventh Fleet
With their bananas ripe, ready to eat
The ladies, they like them firm
Musty one’s make them squirm
Why can’t liberty always be so sweet!
Limes
They’re green and round not yellow and curvy
Bruised or mushed never—topsy turvy!
Peeled back skin often slimy
Best citrus fresh and limey
Sailor lime-juicer’s sucked to cure scurvy
ALUMINUM SIDING
my heart is buried behind the aluminum siding,
trapped inside that bubbly feeling i’d get when your arms would graze my waist,
in the late night bus rides when the light slipping through the shutters swathed your smirk in soft, blazing bandages.
you called me darling back then.
why won’t you call me darling again?
your love was scrawled between ink splotches, inside hugs and eyebrow raises,
while i thought it was too timid to beat its way out of your rib cage.
why didn’t i see where everything was hidden sooner?
my metamorphosis into something more unhinged began the day i left you.
and with you, i left everything i love behind.
you twirled saturn’s rings around my fingers
and scribbled possums on sticky notes that i treated as love letters, hiding them in scratched phone cases and backpack pockets, carrying your heart on my sleeve, mushed in with chewed erasers and tangled earbuds.
so now i walk the heartwrenching path of least resistance away from you,
but it’s not the path around the aluminum siding we used to take.
That dirty green hearse (the
first one I'd ever seen)
Mushed through traffic
Like a Notre Dame back
on a muddy field.
Dripped slush, tears
Aiming straight down
A hollow cheek
and left to mingle
unnoticed on concrete,
And flung salty sleet
Bathing me in half-hearted
insult,
Two miles from no-land
And a scented corpse.
slightly edited June 30, 2021
Pink's the color of your lips
That I softly gently kiss
When your in my arms so tight
With hugs lasting morning and night
Pink polish being carefully
Put on so I can look pretty
For this special loving day
Of feelings that will always stay
Flowers of pink, yellow and blue
On tables as we say "I DO"
Looking in each others eyes
Knowing our love will never die
Pink frosting on our wedding cake
Being mushed in both our face
As we start our life together
A love no one can ever sever
Lace of pink upon my dress
To match the flower in your vest
Two people looking clean and neat
Sharing a love that is so sweet
There are colors everywhere
That make people stop and stare
But pink will always be the one
That means the most and makes life fun
Mary, Mary how contrary
why does your garden grow?
with old tin cans and frying pans
and muddy boots all in a row.
Car piled high with spider's webs
Their spindly smiles, their lovely legs.
Come and say 'Good mourn ye all'
'We live here now and have a ball'
Inside your hut a homeless man.
You gave some tea and made a plan,
To wash his socks so he could go
And get a job and flat and grass to mow
Golden Wonder, Blenheim Blush
A tattie feast chipped, mashed and mushed.
A field of spuds your Mam would cook,
You now don't need your gardening book.
Pippin, gala, Brae burn and Cox,
Fat round red spheres their crunchy Hocks,
Harvest in a late September
To make the wine for next November
Seasons come as turning bicycles
Protecting flowers from biting icicles.
Feeding plants and changing hedges,
Thick hanging blooms, fruits and veges.
Mary, Mary not contrary,
I know how your garden grows.
With careful plans and gardening hands
and many years in the Know.
In loving memory of Silly
The ominous clouds brew, icy darkness looms,
Evil cackle flashes sparks of its menacing fangs,
Sinking them deep into my soft yellow downy,
Yanking me apart, leaving me naked and lonely.
I shiver, tremble and chatter.
Mama, mama, where have you been?
I look at my nest up in the tree,
Mama, mama, why did you leave me?
Gnarled tree branches snatched away my home,
Clawing, ripping and towering tall over me,
The fall - blurred vision of trees, terror painfully gnaws,
Now, only, cold and numbness as I cannot feel my claws.
I inch forward slowly to find a worm.
Mama would have picked some for me.
But now, I scarce can see no hope,
The bittersweet taste of the worm makes me choke.
Suddenly, I find I am nestled in a little girl's hands.
The slightest tinge of warmth delights me,
Gently, she ruffles through my scarce feathers,
Puffing up, I brace the changing weather.
The pungent smell of the rain stings my nostrils,
I chirp helplessly in disgust,
Tears from the sky pelt on me, lashing out angrily,
I retreat, sink back in, and cry along silently.
Her home smells of fresh toast,
Mine smells of juicy worms, but I settle in anyway.
The fall has crushed my feet in its cruel hands,
My feet are broken, I cannot stand.
For the next few hours, I wallow in misery.
She knows nothing about my agonising pain,
But fits me into a sock to keep me warm,
As I listen to the sighing trees mourn.
The sock begins to feel cold and icy,
I try to swallow the slimy papaya she mushed,
But in my throat, the concoction swells and becomes thicker,
Burning sensation, daylight flickers.
I shiver, tremble and chatter.
Mama, mama, where have you been?
The rain distorts my view of my tree,
Mama, mama, why did you leave me?
Mama......
You guaranteed my freedom one day
You never said the price I had to pay
To never see another sun ray
Mama......
If my life were a thread, it would now have frayed
What little daylight I saw had become grey
And as I cuddled up and started to pray
Mama......
I became an angel today.
A lonely little daisy sits in a field, whilst the world is passing by.
its a nice summers day, and the birds are in the trees
theres a beautiful big sun in the sky.
The daisy is all alone because her family have gone, and they are nowhere to be found or seen
she thought she was being tricked, but in reality they had been picked, by a little boy dressed in green.
the daisies family now sit in the little boys pocket, getting broken, squashed and mushed
The daisy is so sad, because she misses them so bad, her heart is really hurting and crushed.
As people walk by, in their everyday lives, noone notices the single daisy at all.
She's been there for a while, and seen lots of sights, she's been through summer, winter and fall
After waiting all this time, to get picked from the ground, somebody comes along with a huge big hand from the sky
They pull her from the ground, she take one look at the sun, and immediately dry's up, wilts and dies.
so next time your walking, and you see a beautiful flower, and you would like to take one for home.
please take a full bunch of the flowers you want and dont leave one single flower on its own.
Waiting for chips*
Hungry at noon
Vinegar, salt
Use a fork not a spoon
Eat by the sea
Where the waves are unhurried
Peas that are mushed
Sauce that is curried
Two slices of bread
A chip butty create
Overloading my buds
Luscious carbohydrate
There are pies. There are peas
There is gravy and fish
Loading it all on your tray
Pile it up as you wish..
Unwrap from the paper
Don't decant to a plate
'Saves washing up'
And besides it tastes great
The angels in heaven
Look downward in awe..
As the humans devour
Much of what they adore
One of life's simple pleasures
Take a peek, there are many
Eating chips by the sea
Can't be beaten by any
Jinjagoliath
2nd July 2023
*in the UK French fries are 'chips'
Gale force winds have blown away the top of his skull
Impaled by a fallen tree with the prison of his mind exposed
Tim’s pierced splintered and dismembered fragments
mash freely with mushed grey matter ready for take off
A lobotomy of sorts a wholesale removal of a vanishing soul
‘Do not worry, this too will pass you cannot fight nature’
but his thoughts and emotions are lost in oblivion and void
‘After thunder comes the rainbow’ but his colours have faded
Blank paint on black canvass and no light in havoc and pain
‘Take those pills they are pink orange purple and yellow’ yet
braindead waves guts gore pillage and plunder have followed
the storm and Tim lies numb naked dissected and ruptured
Electro-convulsion as last resort has failed as the straight jacket
burst at its motionless seams and beams have nailed him to a cross
and cross fire frying lightning and thunder into hot ashes and gashes
Angels found no right nor rite of passage with all traffic suspended
The eye of the storm's euphemism in contempt of torrential calm
as a mental Hiroshima engulfs him at the epicentre of destruction
Fully enshrined in atomic radiance Tim has neither time nor energy
left for the I-Self in tempest’ turmoil and blesses his very own death
I loathe shucking clothes,
(no matter eyes severely myopic)
in preparation for here goes
another warm shower quickly
relaxing this senescent
body ready to doze
soon after lathering
this blubbery body
most unwanted fat grows
on me, no matter healthy diet
of worms, or how I stand,
not so easy add a pose
zing losing battle – Mary Jo's
if and geeze us of bulge ill flattering
particularly quiverly, sans white
"WALL" tire tread fully goes
steely belted around lower
abdominal area like lava floes
siring unsightly expose
yore squishy Jew dish priestly
punchy,plasma paunchy, gristly...
pillow like marshmallows
fittingly, rotundly soundly
identical with other schlep
tin (tin tabulation) grungy hobos,
this lap pissed lard (lord) Who Lee
bemoaning, how ilk readily knows,
where unwanted bulky flab...
most detested - hence Corp Yule Lance
leaves noth thin to noblesse oblige,
know bull eats obese,
anorexia nervosa or chance
barking out orders reminiscent, when he
hapt tubby a caller at
weekly square and/or contra dance,
now requisitioned to insulate
and excessively enhance
body electric can be mushed
into likeness of fleshy France
or repurposed into expanse
resembling any country,
whose name Kants
be easily pronounced, and historical
events glommed together recognizable
as Ataturk with a lance
bequeathed to rule World advance
sing gluttony as his divine providence,
thus requires deep dish allegiance
(non - fiber - binding contract)
for eats and make decadent
every fleshpot gourmand
stretching cellular skein to capacitance
bestowing guaranteed deliverance
with their rolling
ballooning massive circumference
into orbit with Earthly moon officiant
eternal fondue irrelevance!
Sweat broke my line of vision,
I couldn't see clearly, these demons were coming down hard,
Each blow shattering the little resistance I held onto,
Mercy wasn't a mantra these Gods acknowledged nor uttered,
Bruised lips and broken fingernails scattered like confetti across these pavements,
These pavements I called home,
Never wander to close to the edge, they always told me,
But I wanted to see what lay beyond the roaring wind,
What beast made this plateau of cowardice tremble with each breath,
So I leapt over the precipice of doubt and landed smack hard on the concreate,
Gravity spared me no mercy, she dragged me down,
Crushed the living daylights out of me,
Broken bones and gaping sinew reached out to the bluest skies,
Thanking the Gods for setting them free,
What little strength I had, I tried moving but the pain was too much,
My soul winced with every thump of my imploding heart,
The shadows started enveloping my eyes, each darkened light,
Gourging my eyes out, I couldn't see. I was blinded by this... fear.
The scream that escaped my lips wasn't human,
It was a sound of a thousand demons tearing a mans soul apart,
Devouring his flesh, ripping his mushed heart to a pulp,
And quitening what little strength he still had left,
Roaring cries of mutilated grief engulfed my hearing,
The last breath I ever took was filled with the stench of my own blood and faeces,
The last sound I ever heard was the flapping of wings and the maniacal laughter of the beast,
If I still had my vision, I'd see that this was all in my head,
That all was an illusion nothing more than simple surgery exacerbated by the anaesthesia.
It's Spring but the snow still comes down.
It falls till it covers the ground.
It melts and then freezes,
I'm up to my kneeses,
In mud, slush and snow by the pound.
I saw the first Robin today,
Wearing toque, scarf and boots in a sleigh.
It was too cold to fly,
So he mushed right on by,
Headed South without further delay.
the beat rushes
rushes through
through my body
it has
power
strength
stability.
all mushed together
forms a catchy
melody,
maybe harmony.
it disguises the
true feeling
inside
sometimes,
and only sometimes,
that feeling
is fully exposed;
naked
you can understand
exactly
what
the
artist
is
feeling.