Best Palpating Poems
These petals held the blush of summer when
you handed me this gift. It raged with life
still, moments after falling to the knife.
Sweet sap was seeping out. But that was then.
If once a Ghibelline, it’s now a Guelph.
As taut as parchment, brittle, crackle-thin.
The wine-bowl of its bloom has been crushed-in,
prey to unyielding hardbacks on my shelf.
And if I flip the flimsy skeleton,
palpating it between my fingers: let
these petal-remnants quiver on my lip,
I find the thorns no longer hurt. And yet
a rose is still a rose. So, six months on,
I hold it thus... but who is in whose grip?
In Nursing School
In nursing school they have us learn all the proper medical words,
Because in Greek and Latin we defecate, but we never make turds,
And what's worse than learning about all these dreadful diseases
Is forgetting my English to replace it with obfuscating medicaleses,
Lest we forget that great chemical known as adenosine triphosphate
Which is the powerhouse of the cells, or did she say an exudate?
And though I've been to India and seen the river Ganges,
I never knew my fingers were really called phalanges,
And we must learn about colitis, encephalitis and diverticulitis,
But I hope these germs don't decide to get up and bite us.
You can't find out a lot about someone by palpating the patella,
Not even if the patient is female, or if he is a fella.
And we must distinguish anemia, diarrhea and gonorrhea
From the almost identical condition known as leukemia.
Sex is one thing, I think, not one of us has time for,
For after school it's off to work until you're blind or
Wishing you had never heard of cellular necrosis,
Not to mention the hundred kinds of psychoses and neuroses.
And then there's that other major hurdle called getting adequate funding,
And if you can't get a loan or a grant they'll have you do the plumbing.
It seems the clinical locations are never really near ya,
In fact most of them are deep inside Siberia,
And if out in the Sun recall that your skin can get tumorous,
For the study of medicine is serous – very, and hardly ever humerus.
Your medical books will have you believe you've every disease known
From autophobia to an ecchymosis to cerumen on the bone.
But at least there are no bullies insisting we are all big wimps,
For studying things like urine, saliva, bile, blood and lymph;
And if there's one more part with the outlandish name of buccinator,
I think I'll lose it all and become a hallucinator.
Sunshine undulates across verdant plain
casting dark shadows ushering twilight zone
ringing athwart tree trunks
invigorating, joyously kickstarting,
and plenti revitalizing
bountiful nature buzzfeeding
vim, vinegar and *****
caressing, massaging, and palpating with
soundlessness inducing bub bully giddy,
and sudsy spongy schmaltzy
harmonic livingsocial kerplunk
also intoxicating this perk o' late
ting teetotaler, no longer ginger
who doth oft times ale
with melancholic funk,
whereat imbibing nectar
of the Gods with fulfillment
temporarily quicken ends euphoric,
albeit 'pon firm meant soberly drunk.
Ah...nothing more uplifting
than (Anita Bryant raisin eyebrows)
plugging sunkist orange treat,
this sensate being privy,
sans front row seat
agog at orchestral, festival, viz
choral paean courtesy sweet
flora and fauna feat
bequeathed to Mother Earth,
a requiem pulsating with heartbeat
pitch perfect exultation
glorifying spring days soon obsolete
ethereal, ideal, and
sensational tonic to gin
prestidigitation, qua
natural psychological helpmeet
pleasant distraction with intent to read
temporarily placating, needling craving
for Pete sakes daily
fix this news junkie,
trembling when complete
awareness he doth accrete,
where quite glum, how
civilization didst mistreat
planet, hence feeling downbeat,
especially haunting ghosts of
Native Americans drumbeat
signal harbinger debacle
i.e. environmental doomsday
soon fated extinction
sealed and complete
inexorably inching closer to reality
necessitating superman to defeat
global warming rendering vast swaths
uninhabitable as Gaia global
temperature packs tremendous heat!
Begin at the beginning is a good place to start
It makes this poem less tart
sliding from oozed cocoon box
the lions have dens, the holes for fox
screaming is the first noise issued
followed by the orchestra, snap of tissued
help, first comfort, live source
growing, crawling, helped by guiding force
noise, turns to speech of understanding
running with friends, heart finding new palpating
severed from Mother, put into class
many hours of sunshine day passed by glass
innocence and imagination creeping
in Mind, sponge of perpetual learning
Ten, innocence flirting with early romance
ending child-like state, maturity dominance
father gone, replaced by foreign rule
never seen someone so cruel
Middle and High, progress to Schools
thrown into pens with some fools
many friends, smorgasbord variety
some try maintaining sense of piety
learn more about self but not all from schooling
secret meetings of passion, extreme heat, then cooling
growing both physically/mentally
stress where to go, what possibly
JC, CSU, UC?
sometimes they don't let you see
more to life then this madness
never seem to reveal or confess
Robe, with tassel hat and gown
some stand up and some go down
scattered pearls among swine
some go far, some stay close, all fine
some going here and there
some make it with bruises, some skin fair
becoming adults, transitional line
hardships or smooth sailing we will fine
working and schooling
but who are we fooling
it can be hard, stressful for sure
sickness, flu season, try to find a cure
death, taken without warning
all of these memories consuming
had to get this out to you all
before my brain-kept fall
seeing life and all its glory
all its pitfalls, sometimes gory
side, summarizing here
shell-shocked there and there
flowers all in a row
my mind will grow and grow
internal struggle through Academia and depression
the world, external, reflecting recession
we will pull through, hope
Don't let them simply say, "Nope"
life, roller-coaster up 'n' down
spin, spin, Dervish gown
everything turns this way and that
skinny, bloated and fat
but Joseph crawled from the well
after being pushed and fell
light returns after cycle, night
sometimes we must throw-done, fight
don't give up, keep going
keep doing what your doing
not listening to the lament of
the sea
searching for the infinite depth of
the misty blue eyes
golden strands dancing
on the whitish wind
we stretched
under the happy sky
white sand turning grey
what day is it?
on the edge of words
where silence disappears
pounding black piano keys
palpating the notes of the heart
perforating the window to the soul
she says
it is good Friday
my eyes were blind
then
pierced by the unseen thorns
of the night
violent fires of passion
erupts
in every conceivable
atom
we kissed, good night
like cold fishes
Colures transposed orbits closed whence derive the rains of rose?
Across million mileage magic and magnitude are striding
O'er holistic horizon svelteness and smoothness are sliding
Meridian framed parallax tamed whither swash the rains of rose?
Spray by spray, knuckle down to my mood pensive
From ethereal to real, from sparse to intensive
Soon drenched head o'er heels
I found the root of my romance's route
Under a bracing baptism bringing fine feels
From amazed to aplomb, from something uneasy to nothing moot
Memo peeped murmurs eavesdropped how to diagnose
My long-overdue romance syndrome, rain of rose?
Among infinitesimal traces palpating sentimental palpitations
And probing their pathetic derivations
Throughout infinite engrams pinpointing fugal focuses
And precluding their maudlin metamorphoses
Tender spot perceived hardened navel-gazing detected
Rain of rose, how to track and treat my vulnerable veins well-directed?
Self-moderating little by little
Instilling solace into me trickle by trickle
Yarn by yarn, untangle my yearns intricate
From aggressive to assimilable, from inquisitive to intimate
Rosy, rosy rain
Messenger from ineffable Cockayne
Where comet breeze fondles her finery of frieze
Into my laps leap swaths of her lusty ease
Rosy, rosy rain
Sharp switcher of memory lane
Where murk and melancholia of yore
Transfigure into present horoscopes and kaleidoscopes galore
Rosy,rosy rain
Recoverer from romance drain
Ripple by ripple streams into her likeness, lusciousness lacing limpidity
Alleviating my lovelorn insipidity and rigidity
Rosy, rosy rain
Precise pacesetter of telepathic vane
Wisp by wisp floats familiar fragrance and grace
My well-oriented paces in lockstep with her fairy trace
Rosy, rosy rain
Shuttle through sensorial chain
Calm inside, my premier ego as huddled as a musing esthete
Passion outgoing, the alter ego as loosened as an effusing synesthete
Rosy, rosy rain
Seamless scourer of sour and pain
Inch by inch rinses away blue waves of woes
Rousing the resting redolence of rose
Rosy, rosy rain
Merry melody with voluble refrains
Note by note, elicits dulcet endearments of old years
Fleeing from errant mindscape, destined to attentive ears.
A Love Serenade
See how things have turned my dear
I was once concerned,lone and feared
With a trembling breath and lungs full of gores
Thought i was heading up the skies but then i fell
Summer has passed ,no winter but fall ...
And my hopes were marching upon those rustling leaves
Waiting and waiting with a shredded soul
But once you came you made me whole
Iv been as odd as those solitary lilies
But you were the sea that hugged them all
Changed their errant hearts into a holly tree
A tough one with an impermeable solid sheen
See how things have turned my dear
See how deep our sores could be
A cloud has passed to wash them all
But its our well that brought the concealing rain
And now i have found myself at last
And that palpating insane heart
I have found myself in yours....
You told me once im the blossom
But my dear you are the one that make me bloom..
Sitting on the shore of the sea;
Captivating the wild waves and the benevolent sunset;
Feeling the gentle breeze of the tropical wind;
Closing your eyes and sensing the sweet smell of salt
Embracing with your perfume of roses
Creating a deeper aura than the bottom of the blue sea.
Listening to the harmonious birds sing;
Palpating the fine sand
That slips from my hand;
Longing those memories of summer
And the sweet, tender kiss from your lips.
My love, stay tonight;
Let us join our hearts
Without any reproach
Like steel chains that cannot be broken.
Just like that my sweetheart,
Our love will never end.
October Morn
By: Tom Wright
10/26/01
A boy's silvery breath,
a Jack-O-Lantern's glow.
Amid cascading leaves,
dangles an old elm's mistletoe.
Corn stalks, neatly shocked,
emit the sun ray's glisten.
Migrating geese overhead,
with heart palpating, I listen.
Squirrel's are at haste,
pecans and acorns are falling.
Grass, with it's veneer of frost,
signals winter is calling.
Divine... from Divine source
Feminine...a portal of creation, creativity, &
cultivation
Wild...free to expand in my expansive
expressions
Curious...carefully collecting a culmination of knowledge
Dark...daringly dancing with death to celebrate life Abundant...amassing & amplifying amazing
amounts of harvests
Shape shifter... seductively seducing shadows in silence
Alchemist...alluring & always antagonizing
transmutation
Provoking...palpating peace, pulses, passions, &
perceptions
Love...lovingly living as luxurious love.
Spirit...
Woman...wondrously woven with warm wielding wisdom.
Skirt hiked up
legs ungracefully spread
inviting.
Between those limbs, chords darken
where pale angels go blind.
A deep ewer of sound
pours from palpating fingers.
While her other hand
strokes the pulse of a
sonorant beast
carved from lava.
Her body croons
wrists cuffed to the music,
closed eyes
bathe naked in dark pools.
A depth climbs to a tree top
yet the music
is still the lowest place on earth.
I am nudged into her
by the sweep of her arm,
the weeping intensity
of her shoulders.
The cantabile purse
of her open lips.
There is no place to be
other than inside
the voice of her cello,
skull drumming
to a spiccato cadence,
as her bow softly taps
on the strung spine
of a bruised sorrow.
Gears juicily primed,
pendulum swung,
the first step on rung
elevating – the first palpating
rocket blast into orbit, reaching
escape velocity
pulse into pulse into pulse,
divinely evolving, expressing
what will my muse inspire today,
rigid form, or Free-verse~
poetry’s perpetual motion?
The years go by
The time flows
It splinters upon the depths of the horizon
Glittering soul
Why do you flee?
Come closer
Don’t be afraid
When the time comes
I’ll be waiting
But for now
I can only listen
Listen for your heartbeat
The palpating pulse
Thumping in my eardrums
Tearing my mind apart
Until it explodes
Into a billion pieces
Of grey matter
Rose petals pinching my skin,
Bruised brain beaten and defeated,
Hollow heart haunted by melancholic memories,
I move on, I move on and I move on.
Life longing for my will to live,
I float along,
Following my rhythm,
Singing my song.
My song of life and my absurd behaviour,
Crying, laughter, anger, love and fervour.
Kindness clinging closer in my veins,
Peace palpating through my heart.
I move on, I move on and I move on.
I float along,
Following my rhythm,
Singing my song.
Carrying my wounds like a winning warrior,
I move on, I move on and I move on,
I float along,
Following my rhythm,
Singing my song.
My heart is here
In my hand, beating
In my palm, bleeding
Palpating with fear
Yet pulsing with anticipation
Ripped from a hollow space
If you would have it
I would give it