Best Outs Poems
This is what life’s all about:
We barrel in and totter out.
Along the way, we smile or pout
And try our best to conquer doubt.
We may be rebels or devout,
Remain unnoticed or have clout,
Yet we survive, in flood or drought,
Our whispers rising to a shout
As we fight in our final bout;
Then, like a candle, fizzle out.
I know an ambitious politician
His nose in the sky like a patrician
Looks down on all others
As voters, not brothers
Appointed ‘Chief of Dog-doo Emissions’
Oh the demise in my condensing absolute abyss
There is no sunrise for the corridors are barely lit...
It is an explosion a debacle of hell,
That I truly dwell in the shadows with demons...
If only my guts could be spewed,
And thus slowly viewed by the many that wander...
A chaotic rage that has surly passed
The decaying stage of collapse...
Emotions that have little or no,
Motions to surface again...
I have the smile of the clown a jester
Who will stand upside down for laughter,
Only to show a frown of neglect...
Oh such sweet sorrows...
If not for the borrows-- I would be vanquished.
A parade of colourful beauty within
The colossal charade of lasting love...
The rivers vividly flow--
And the sun does show its rays of light
The flowers flourish and blossom,
With air so awesome-- aromas that linger
Angels that fly from east to west—
For they are not shy to show their best...
Such divine expressions—and
Devout confessions of the soul...
I am the court jester—
A laughing and loving protester for love.
March.31.2016
For Contest...Who ARE you?
By Catie Lindsey
letters, numbers, dashes, commas, apostrophes
How can somebody ask you for ID How can you Mark you are not an authority and even an authority as to graduate,
You Mark You create Facebook for better and worse,
Like wise
letters, numbers, dashes, commas, apostrophes
Trevor Martin is death people with Id's do so also
letters,
numbers,
dashes,
commas,
apostrophes
That's an all lot to respect journalism that you are also -with property-
Doing
I am crazy to see you on my premises asking me for numbers, dashes, commas, apostrophes
and a serial number for my Workshop in Fantasies
and charging me fees
like for all my ME's
included those
-Teaching Degrees
Two
Quick
Outs
Lets
Make
It 3
Caves are dark, dank, sinister havens for rising damp
Mere cavities in the ground, veiled from light of day
Yet caves are heralded, admired and cherished
For a swarm of reasons, just mind the bats
Caves are drop inns
Hikers and natives welcome finding a cave
They provide shelter from wind and rain
A great place to stay the night, light a fire
To enjoy the cosy charm of safe seclusion
Caves are art galleries
The walls are dotted with new and ancient graffiti
Hand-prints, paintings, scribbles and scenes
Made by artists with no where else to hang their stuff
Revealed by flickering flames and dim filtered beams of light
Caves are museums and dumps
Visitors leave their junk in caves
Animals topple in and get trapped
Caves are a great place for animals to die
These dumps are bliss to archaeologists
Who drool over skeletons, artefacts and such old-time junk
Caves are cathedrals and awe-catches
Endless aeons of dirty drips yield fabulous
On floor and ceiling displays of
Glistening stalactites and stalagmites
The cavernous space, silence and eerie dankness
Makes visitors gasp with adoration and awe
Highlighted by the uniqueness, isolation and remoteness of caves
So duck-in to a cave when you pass one by
and you'll discover the ins and outs of caves
Caves are awesome and strangely welcoming
Despite their darkness, dampness and malevolence
spectators! we march!
advance upon the blind
with your cultured eyes
and tone torpedo tongue
rage on molars hail delirium
he's smelling the blood of puppets
ventricles be defiant
the neon carnivals have electrocuted themselves
it's time to eat the high priests
and their goddess Anesthesia
free the nervous system
held incommunicado
to the end of the page
let the fan mail erupt
written in holy ashes
THE ENTIRE HUMAN
A SINGLE ORGAN OF PERCEPTION!
zzzt hisss gurgle
We interrupt this program
to fill in the blanks
must be the reception
win a night with Androgen and Estrogen
those two comics
guess who's at the font door
you won't be gone long
GONE LONG!
somebody change the channel
pull cupid pull,
it's your anniversary
aim it at the carousel ostriches
we are all going to be recorded
find your costume
bird cage for your head
frying pans strapped to feet
the horizon is circular last time I looked
it meets again and again
without permission
the universe is like that
zero variable
variable density
zero density
ordered and persistent
I haven't always slept in doorways
ideas got us this far
c'mon shoes let's lose the blues
From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
http://tinyurl.com/nhfk6dr
Author's note: This is an epic length poem that will have to be split into parts and will be serialized in successive posts.
Part 3
Dr. D. confers in panic
with Rex and boys at the Limbo Saloon
by now my eyes are ping pong balls
the final recommendation is for
ritual abandonment
Fra Umbilicus answers his page
in the monastery wing
and servos his motorchair up to my railing
intones the curse of the catacombs
think of it as original my sin er son
how the flat line fooled the experts
was on the 6 o'clock
perhaps it was the fact
that it went vertical
tripping alarm buzz circuits
from Hell to breakfast
like a reeking retching lurching
Nietschean Lazarus
a scarred and demented Universe
gave birth to itself
and the combined riotous
and cheering populations
of BURN WARD 3
and AMPUTATION WARD 2
and NARCOLEPSY WARD 666
cameras pick up deicide in the stairwell
a theomachian commotion
clangity-whaaang go the
oxygen tanks bouncing four flights
plopity-smash go
the out/intravenous bottles
whackety-crack
goes his portable Respiropump
screechety-eech
goes NEURO WARD's $90,000 Lobotoscan
cascading sympathetically
8er from Decatur
straining against the tube works
and their attached impedimenta
beneath the basement corridor steam pipes
awakening autopsy cadavers
with every labored pitch and yaw
bursting through the fire exit
on the firing squad's day off
out onto St. Hilarity's loading dock
he turns and waves howdy-ose amigoes
to the gathered throngs
Musela, Tex, the Santa Guadalupe Mariachis
slams Lucille the ambulance's door
severing all connections
arm tube nose tube mouth tube
chest tube piss tube
hits the throttle light bar and siren
and lets Lucille's squealing wheels
burn rubber clear down
to the land of rubber plantations
until the tank hits empty
and memory returns syllables
and lost parts of speech
the twin t's of utterance two swords
and fate the swindler of souls
has a blowout
at 90 at 5...at 15...
the separated twins
separate the H-O-R-I-Z-O-N
into before and after
rhyming less on the outside
than on the inside out
a vacation follows
From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
http://tinyurl.com/nhfk6dr
There was a legend in the world of cricket,
For whom fans rushed to buy the tickets.
Who started getting run out on 1st wicket
And like a poem, got run-out as well in his last ODI wicket.
He had a long hair and dazzling charm,
Far and wide he was so suprisingly calm,
He proved world there’s more to life than being a ticket collector.
He turned his life around, an exmaple of perfect motivator.
He grabbed the open opportunity to be a leader,
His tactics make him seem like a mind reader,
Helping India win the inaugural T20 cup
His presence alone lifted the team spirit up.
Removing all seniors was a risk indeed,
Could have costed India's position to recede.
But his guts were at level unmatched,
He used his bat like another arm attached.
Fastest runner between the wicket,
Quickest stumper to blow off wicket,
Calmest skipper who triumphed the English game,
With steel of nerves, brought glory to India's name.
He anchored our nation to lift ODI cup,
Couple years bought the Champions cup
Refused to surrender to fate of being idle,
Worked hard to become youngster's IDOL.
No player can match his legacy,
Few can achieve his supremacy ,
Old Fogies envy him with jealousy,
Because what he got aint normalcy,
I have an important message
for man's best friend
humming like rolling wheels at 90
incandescent like a hubcap overhead
listen to this you highway palm readers
the pressure in this tire
is anatomically incorrect
and at four atmospheres
ALERT! ALERT!
all radar units report your locI and foci
on the plan-it planet,
space never got named
by causes and their waiting effects
the secret of death
is to pay no attention to it
I go with the info dear recipient
info in outfo out
if we never meet
tell them I ain't invisible
it may not be much
but it won't be enough either
wheels for legs radio screaming
entertaining beyond abomination
we Febrilacs from planet Nu-Oc
speak our own language,
if monotony generates subtlety
it must be high resolution
because others have done so
is not enough
in zero plastic space
the big molecule
a million moving parts
sonic on the inside freezing out
do we try to figure it out in
here's the secret
amnesia is the root of all comedy
blame it on the invisible
beans from outer space
and their gift
the list of blisters
In
after going all night off the map to dawn
on the newly opened Metaphysical Gridway
I am awakened by the black buzz of flies
and a persistent hiss of escaping steam
in my chest a hole where the piston went
misfire specialists been at it all night
looks like it is missing altogether
heart missing!
and I'm supposed to remain calm!
I hear the motel desk man's radio voice
the motel TV is on an older Aztec console
he's reading today's roadside advisory
with the ancient music of the spheres under
or is it over
my angels in white are singing like sirens
their little red wagon glissandos up the gravel
outside the screen door in the neon
local code blue team goes crash cart
my ballooning eyes watch a blurring scenario
as they pump in earth air fire and water
being as my hood was already up so to speak
I remain stuck fast waiting for spare parts
long into day
Out
there's neon signs in my head
there's a desert motel in my head
there's peeling wallpaper in my head
there's copulation and murder in my head
there's smashed windows in my head
there's a falling sane man
in my insane head
From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
http://tinyurl.com/nhfk6dr
Author's note: This is an epic length poem that will have to be split into parts and will be serialized in successive posts.
Part 2
act three
in the third act delirious
the laws of physics etc.
he coughs his lungs out
in wheezing jets
internal combustion is internal combustion
his bed of wheels begins to roll
first one wheel then the others
cough cough cough
his wheels roll the length of
NEURO WARD 4's corridor
to the NEURO elevator
and its NEURO music
by now familiar to you
as that song in the head
cough cough cough
3 2 1 doors open out
upon the concrete parking lot
out to Lucille the Oldsmobile
they recognize one another
why no one knows
this is an orphan's tale
composed with the licensed use
of Orphan Guild secrets
raised on the back seat
suckled by giant oranges
weaned on foot long hot dogs
at the nation's roadside
Musella my injection!
act four
in the 4th phantom of the opera
the tank hits empty
his lungs flat and black
as a piece of big rig recap
in desperation piles bricks on seat
heaves bricks back onto concrete
salutes au revoir to the mirror's horizon
and rolls onward
propelled by what is equal
what is opposite
according to St. Newton
the law of the motor
what goes in must come out
seriously Lucille rolls
upon the concrete gridway
steering herself autonomously
everything left to chance
we now know any nightmare
propelled by what is equal and opposite
will roll through the divider
and off the bed-road
Musella vacuums up the glass
and sorts out the tubing
our fugitive lays low by his radio
signal up full
awaiting the footsteps
and stethoscope of Tex Amphora
the archaeologist cowboy surgeon
took my case in a bar stool wager
betting on flesh made perfect
the fool the angel
5 minute intermission
they taught me how to act
onstage I mean in stages
strangers said I'd grow out of it
friends said I'm gonna die from it
there comes a time in a youth's youth
when he discovers
that the machinery on the interstate
can play the sound of skidding wheels
on a Steinway
so
a much needed musical interlude then
acto sexto
From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
http://tinyurl.com/nhfk6dr
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.site11.com/
four vignettes on silence
I
Muteness broadcasted
hush-hush flaunted
just like a coverall,
silence is a blanket
on human telepathy and intent.
II
It's simple, actions speak as loudly as words.
Silent treatment can be an
autumn breeze,
granting space
cooling tempers.
III
Sulkiness can be likened to
green gall, blatant brooding
and withdrawal characterized as
yellow cowardice,
Passive aggressive behavior exposed.
IV
Cats, life-long friends, co-workers all employ
loving acts, yet silence...
licking, ankle rubs
eye winks, hugs
waves and smiles.
July 29, 2019
OMG What a day so far. Woke up at 7 to use the little girls room and blacked out again until about 10 when the kids found me. three hours on the floor not moving. GEESH !!! Hospital still can't figure it out. Unexplained black outs and fainting is the diagnosis. Have to have someone with me at all times. HHHMMM Can I have Luke, Blake or Sammy. LOL
Ran into an old friend
just the other day.
Has to have been
50 years
another way.
She made that big mistake
of asking what I've been up to.
Well, I've been studying
systematic multicultural theology
and, then, regenerative ecology.
Oh,
that sounds nice.
Probably keeps you out of trouble.
Yes, well, I guess it is nice,
but not trouble-free.
Another word
might be "athletic."
Like soccer?
More like gymnastics
and long distance running.
Anyway,
have you ever heard of Process Theology?
It has a first Christian cousin
in Creation Theology,
Brought to us sytematically
by Matthew Fox,
but also rooted more experientially,
synergetically,
by both Eastern and Western nature/spirit mystics.
Well, sounds like I have some homework
to do--to catch up.
Just Google process theology
or creation theology
or, better, both
and see if you can see
positive correlations
for those with ears
to hear.
Ok, well, thanks.
I'll get right on that.
Then, look up regenerative ecology,
restorative environmental justice
and try creation ecology--
and maybe positive psychology's Theory of Original Matriarchal Attachment.
See if they all sound alike
more paradigms for sprouting polypathic
feeding
watering
nonviolent ecological communication
and experiential regenerative theology.
Well, my goodness!
Look at the time...
Exactly,
the space within bilateral time,
Here within timeless Now,
Yang strong atoms
Yin flowing spiraling strings of waves,
LeftBrain dominant monoculturalism
undermining RightBrain prominent multicultural communication
unfolding in-between
chaos and complexity
Alpha and Omega
One and Zero bionic
bilateral double-binding
bicameral
natural ecological egos
and spiritual theological-neurological eco-habitats
sacred within as climates secular without
health reforming multicultural wealthy experience,
collateral compassions
of Zero NonSum-ologies;
Each of these
WinWin strategies
for healthy resilient systems.
Sorry,
had to check my texts.
Kids, you know.
Never stop being a responsible parent
or friend.
Were you still talking?
If a verbal communicator
stands
or sits
or squats in a forest
of non-listeners,
is the cooperative communicator speaking
or just talking within myself?