Best Peroxide Poems
I stared into the mirror today.
I saw you -
a needled zealot
hovering around my left shoulder;
Adolph Hitler dressed in
opium-perfumed swatches.
You smelled like her.
You acted like him.
You looked like me.
Swastika tall and evenly abhorrent.
Syringe-insured yet,
never sharp enough to
successfully stab
outside the 50-point cork.
You slithered like a quadroplegic,
into my stratum.
Pointing and probing
a crooked finger -
never healing
the martyr's wound.
A broken grimace leaves me
ugly flesh to ponder.
Your tentacles:
toothless cleavers eclipse
black-dilated pupils,
servicing our
boomeranged arms
with dingoed malice -
peppermint leaves and peroxide boil
as the living corpse cackles.
Mussolini removed
thirteen quieted quills
from his heart
shortly before the noose was tied.
Into square knots.
Into napkin pleats.
Into a poet's silence - where
our self-induced stupor
was dragged upon
spiked cobblestones -
and for that,
my dear Stalin beauty;
I sew my spit into
vile words -
dribbling purposely
upon this diseased
cotton-swabbed
canvas
for you
and I
to clean.
Peroxide blonde and covered in petals,
Bleach kills flowers - She’s less softener than metal
A body rooted in pride, trying to run, Jackal and hide.
There’s some double entendres, catch them if you can,
There’s something about her, try to find it, you’ll both be damned.
To Cinderella she’s her own step sister,
Crying out for love, afraid of those who’d listen.
Just someone out there longing for a cause in existence,
Just someone out there, longing for a reason to stay persistent
Between The Devil and The Sea
( Scylla and Charybdis )
Cosmetic the creature cover girl
is accessible only at night
a picture female in her temple
laying askew on an alter ego
A de lux harlot in romantic rough house
a fetish target
frivolous nymphet with a rampant phallus
And the sinister will follow strictly incognito
In her sticky sexual paradise
blond peroxide sensuality comes by proxy
No virtues abashed
a blow up doll as she lays in prostrate sultry action
her deflowering for titillation
she is said to have a thing for perversion
this ageless angelica this strip teaser
the Molotov cocktail of her own euphoria
Down in the bawdy boulevard men ape their ardour
all mouth to mouth with the call girl
a fondle or a blatant grope
She’s a clock work courtesan to keep her from destitution
to feed the kids she considers herself to be an acquisition
smiling for the gratuitous exhilaration of playing the other woman
vogue with her etiquette indiscreet in the burlesque
self esteem is held between the food the warmth
and not much else
(a 7/5 Trochee)
Once upon a time, I got
Right inside my ear
An infection that was bad;
I could barely hear.
It was like those times you fly
In a plane so high
And your ears start popping,
But not up high was I!
I was told to see the doc,
But that costs so much
I just googled for myself
Homemade cures and such.
Hydrogen peroxide was
One I thought to try:
Soak a cotton ball with it;
To your ear apply. . .
So I’d tilt my head, press that
Cotton on my ear,
Gingerly at first, for I
Felt a little fear.
But a fizzling then began
Just like Google said -
(kind of cool). I kept putting
It inside my head!
Once you’ve got it all cleared up,
Bubbles should abate.
So in increments of time,
I would stop and wait. . .
When I thought that fizzling part
Couldn’t stay for long,
I would try that “cure” again.
Bubbles came on strong!
So I gave up in disgust,
Worried now that I’d
Put into my ear too much
Of that peroxide.
To the doctor I would go
With my $hundred plus+.
Doctor looked into my ear;
Saw a lot of pus.
He allayed my fears about
My home remedy,
Saying it could do no worse
Than just annoy me.
Doctor's cure was not to be
what I would suppose.
I should have to put, instead,
something up my nose!
Sometimes eating apples won’t
Keep that doc away.
Ultimately. . . to get well,
Be prepared to pay!!!
For Deborah Guzzi's "The Road to Well Ville"
MIND MUSCLE
Steroid cocktails, metallic flavor, Viagra rush;
Mind numbing mush!
Sightless vision, cloudy comprehension, silent violence, whimpering misogyny; a blood-curdling hush…
Nervous perspiration, brain freeze, lactic acid rush; Gray matter atrophy flush! Dissipating oxygen accompanied by synapses firing twinges!
Amnesiac causing binge; constricting pyro nerve ending singed; Ascend to the black hole rush…
Epidermal twitches, vitamin E glitch, inhale and exhale switch, Marauding biceps, involuntary tick…, Bulging disc, brain-teasing peroxide, attention deficit; Word nerd… Hard body… Flex and discern… Secret genius…?
Mind Muscle...
Melvin “Chief” Lars 2/23/04 2:10 pm
4 x 4
There you are driving ahead of me again
five foot five in your four by four.
Peroxide blonde transporter of empty baby seats
Mobile phone to your ear transmitting
More nonsensical extrusion from a shallow mind
Roundabout ahead, wrong lane, who cares!
Let’s double park at the corner shop
Check the rearview mirror, yes makeup ok
Don’t forget the hazard lights of excused abandonment
Like a disco roadblock
Winter has arrived for a treatment and later makes a grand entrance at the
hairdressers.
At home,forged metal, molten metal ,blacksmith hammering a horseshoe.
Quicksilver mercury smooth metal etched and inlayed with black enamel
Straw bale for pillows, candles for lighting illuminating dried sage fumes.
Family crest on metal armour , heavy metal armour etched with all over design.
Clip-clop , clip-clop your chariot has arrived with footman unrolling the steps.
We're off to lunch at the hog's breath cafe, the smell of burgers is over-
whelming!
Just a small bite, that will do , no need to wolf it , the puppy can have the rest.
Today is our hairdressing day and many small swatches are presented.
Fingers running warm water through reclining hair start a scalp massage.
Swishing fabrics, clicking heels, strong musk perfume , Madame has Arrived!
This year Winter wants to make a strong impression...Platinum Blonde!
Thin as a whistle, pale make-up, fluffy white sheepskin collar and cuffs.
With just a small dash of colour ..A chunky red jewel sparkling in silver.
going back to my pillow
not the ads on TV
I have no pain no gain
just a siesta waiting for fresh direct
delivery a slice of pizzas
and tapenade on toast
so erect for my age
will use the olive oil
and scratch my back
very basic just talk their language
and they will bring the oil
to share around the bloke
brushing my teeth a conundrum
ratatat the tuba for a parade
of mint and hydro peroxide
Stepping backwards into our future,
blowing into the bag of our achievements.
Fabric stretching reality; ready to burst
Indianapolis track of progression.
Conscience, hard wired from the system
and morality, a discarded well worn tyre.
Digging mines to bury nature,
while we sing a laments lie.
Wailing that our television dreams
no longer satisfy.
Rosacea landscapes “proudly” proclaim
testaments to our “care.”
While we machinate on peaceful accords.
(A bloody blade already drawn.)
Subfusc faces, in rainbow towns,
knock fairytales to the ground,
all wrapped in debts boa embrace
we wear our plastic crowns.
Hero’s come, hero’s go,
like ice cream around children.
Old warriors barricade park bench castles,
sipping 100% proof amnesia.
A generation weaned on high fibre ignorance,
apathetically observing Pandora’s box.
Glibly strutting towards suicidal genocide
beneath peroxide standards of progress.
Do you see the white flag of innocence?
Blowing in the ether of bull-sh1t.
Do you see the hand of hope?
Dead flesh from the severed arm.
Do you see the words of faith?
That fall so easily from blasphemers lips,
and what of love; a four letter word spelled f-u-c-k.
An enlightened people? We shield our eyes,
bounce from walls of our tunnel vision.
Forever throwing problems at the framework,
expecting it to hold.
The faster we run, the slower we move,
sowing dreams on barren ground.
Death; we’re breast-fed on its demands.
Can’t you hear the world screaming,
or is fairground music to loud?
Evolving devolution,
green-mile macadam,
we rush to oblivion.
The mirror stands cracked,
Neglected at the corner,
The broken glass wearing a coat,
Of a fine film of dust.
She no longer dares…
To look, nor does she care.
Her face, heart shaped,
Her eyes, bright and brown
Her skin a light shade of chocolate,
Her hands gently as if afraid, run down her face,
As if in fear they will hurt her skin.
Her face is rough,
Like the plains in the barren quarry,
Gingerly she touches each part,
The tears fall no more,
It’s part of her this skin
That strives to bring her loads of pain.
She walks the streets head held high,
She no longer cowers,
She stands straight and tall
Her heart threatens to tremble
As her peers point and giggle,
She can hear their words,
Shooting daggers into her heart,
“Look at her, look at her skin! Can’t she do something,
Aaargh some people! I just lost my appetite nkt”
A sad smile curls her lips,
She no longer pouts,
She knows she has done her best
The medicines, the creams, the ointments
Washed with peroxide but no, no change
Her skin remains stubborn
So she munches on, smiling to herself
She had a choice to live happy or in misery
She choose to happiness even the way she is.
When I was little I was told to be who I am
By my
Mother
Father
Pastor
Grandmother
Grandfather
And counselor
Who never told me what that really meant
I don't understand it until I got
Older
Bolder
Colder
Sadder
Madder
And shattered
Into pieces when I was told who to be, not who I am
I listened to my
Parents
Aunt
Uncles
Grandparents
Teachers
And guardians
Who couldn't even see how I felt
The ones who couldn't see my
Cuts
Bruises
Scabs
Tears
Wraps
And scars
Which haven't gone away that added everyday
I thought about
Suicide
Hydrogen peroxide
Homocide
A genocide
And how to hide
From the word where no one really knew me
I decided to be me
Impeccable
Musician
Maniacal
Abstracted
Laid-back
and Enthusiastic
About starting a new day in a new life.
Whether a totally
tubular ordinary day, or...hmm...
perhaps at the
approach of yuletide,
one need not go
far and wide
across the webbed world
to experience being unified,
this quasi motto maxim of sorts
analogous to auld
sanity clause trailguide
motivates me to
seek if necessary
all the way to Telluride
to attempt Swiss-side
enlightenment with every stride,
thus please feel free
and clear to chat streamside
ideally at springtide,
yea your welcome, yes do
respond to this snide
loner if game to chess das side
to accompany this gadabout
(once pawn a time) rook
key nada so longfellow
wordsworth king rustler,
yup, who still attests
to occupy ringside
available vacancy for queenside
guest of honor, (gnome hatter
if ye happen tubby pride
full favoring an effeminate
poetic guy), also...provide
ding no aversion toward
this moon face planetwide,
Martian hood doth bleach blonde
his hair with peroxide,
this lapsed lose zoo lee
errant knight well,
that could pose a minor
drag) hubble restraint,
I would override,
but actually this ring
around the collar, (sans whiskey
perspiration at noontide),
drunkard, (that's when
my late morning gets broken)
yea...way offset from nationwide
conformity, nonetheless huff
fain tuff fellowship with me,
a chap who doth not arise
before the crack of noon
lest inside his noggin
oozes like a mudslide,
(which on May 31, 1889
washed away Johnstown, Pennsylvania),
the damn burst (like
a Led Zeppelin),
and roared down the mountainside
triggered (human sited) landslide
decimating, leveling, and uprooting,
every friggin gabled
house along hillside,
which essentially created massive graveside.
I ease through the cranium, rhymes made of titanium,
I advise, watch your eyes, coming with mercury and uranium.
Open wide, bout to pour out peroxide, on people cuttin’ up,
Actin’ a fool, middle aged dudes stuck in junior high school,
Some even elementary, now they’re cool, school is a federal penitentiary.
I’m not done feedin’ yaw the O2, breathe in what I’m saying,
Let me grab some H2, add the O, my lyrical calcium make your bones and mind
grow.
No more potassium coming out you trained primates, your rhymes make,
Me wanna throw chlorine, in your poor rhyme scheme.
Make your eyes burn, and learn, not to agitate this hot nickel,
Silver lead, through you wear wolf heads, changing your form,
To try to be the norm, not original, it’s pitiful.
Lithium, in your system, my piss come, in every acidic shade,
To let go on cats that want to be arcade.
Playing silly games, thinking you the highest scorer,
You come for the, adventure, while other people trying to eat, and
Leave an impression, on what you’re digestin’.
Cyanide, arsenic, pick your poison, I’m all of it,
All the shhh, whatever you callin’ it, they not touchin’,
The concussion, mental percussion, in my instructions.
Too much sodium, table salt, in your talk, spit dry,
I sit high, with my, eagle eye, on an evil guy,
Ready to put sulphur, on my culture,
So I release the CO2, put too much bad air in you.
Only I can, withstand, with this hand, create a mighty blow,
To show, no more drama, I’m a comma, creating space,
Between my words and the kiddie rhymes you trace,
Embrace, every element, to make your lyrical existence irrelevant.
My settlement, on God’s green, house effect,
Ultraviolet rays from my intellect, another black prospect,
Call me LeRob James, call me names, similar to greatness,
A newfound element in your Chemistry book pages.
BODILESS
bold angels
block and shape
their lips eclipse
inane words cloud
tangle entwined
pristine alphabets
peroxide prose
silver currents
of the unheard
gold…
goldfish
goldring
goldthing
parades of perfect peace
© Kim van Breda—7 December 2015
Our dog named Heidi is very old you see.
She has been to the vet, for her old age.
Still strong willed, without any rage,
Taking medicine each day, given by me.
She still loves to eat so many things.
Many treats, she deserves them too.
For her love and bravery so true,
For eighteen years, her life rings.
This one day we had fresh chicken to fry.
My wife wearing rubber gloves to keep clean.
Then throwing them away in trash, we seen,
Heidi grabbing them, swallowing she did try.
We were not fast enough to stop her gulp.
Worried we quickly remembered a little trick.
A touch of peroxide to drink, to make her sick,
Gagging and choking, but she upchucked the pulp.
Not the prettiest sight that anyone could ever seen,
This might seem mean, but it could have been worse.
Heidi would have probably died, last ride a doggy hearse.
Now we hide her eyes from the garbage, and keep it pristine.