Best Scalpels Poems

I. THE WANDERING

I was born with a life that bled—
a seafloor womb
dragging tides of fern
and marigold char

The priests brought saffron
and fear

crowning me with diagnosis

They said: She is too empty
They said: Fill her with figs
with seed
with stillness
They said: Her belly speaks too loud
Mute her

O Plato
old patriarch...

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Intravenous therapy,
She's watching over me.
Grasping my hand,
She whispers, "please dear, count to ten."

Six... piercing paralysis,
Her hand cold as the air.
She lets go, leaving me there.
Alone, squirming, for just one prayer.

Yelling, and screaming.
Kicking, twisting, and questioning.
Nothing happens, its all in my head.
Frozen, welded to my metal...

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Kill the Silent One

(Silent Killer)


He has invaded, unseen
Lurking and silent
Evil destroying one and all
From cell to cell
Crawling underneath
Leaching blood and soul
Smiles are murdered
Futures destroyed
Families ruined
The silent one is a killer
Who must be killed

The order has been given
Command centre now on full alert
Maps perused and studied
Strategies...

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This is a parody on Gee Officer Krupke from West Side Story .

   Dear  Doctor  Grumpee
   Nobody  knows
   Why  I'm  hooked  on  this  site
   Writing  poetry  and...

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moribund she wondered what

the postmortem would leave

other than a dead body and wounds

made by the many scalpels of life

operations gone wrong and stitch-ups

with sutures festering at the seams


as a mere mortal she had not chosen

the coffin head stone and grave

as one should not mess with...

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Boob jobs and bomb jobs

Sisters in arms those **** and those weapons of massive 
destruction sex and death go together in dynamics
thermodynamics psychodynamics fused on the playground 
of this life of this poem on which I’m allowed to feel strong 
and weak just the same...

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Rare, natural, unblemished, lasting and profound

Beauty is penned, defined and crooned

From poets, authors, artist and strangers

Described in depth, penned to death,

Setting standards unreachable by the masses.

 

Products slathered, potions swallowed, scalpels wielded

Suctioned and enhanced to have a chance

In a world so small minded and superficial

Seeking...

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at last he knows what
has been kicking his ass all these years
living a slow trauma smelling of empire
guardians of civilization on strike or asleep
concluding that non-conformists are all alike
but wait I am harsh this is all from memory 
must have been the Kristalnacht last night
the...

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Flies, drawn to their only sustenance, cloud around my head.
In this cloudless desert sky  - blank, deep-arching cavern of thought  - 
Unblinking  sun stares down but this fire-bird will not fly,
Has no hope of rain or shade to hide or die. ...

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One man
Stands
Beneath his white helmet
And demands,

Silence.

Throughout Aleppo.

His stethoscope,
He attaches
To the dust
And listens
From his knees.

The man has
Ten fingers,
A dry brush
And a pair of pliers
To dig like an archeologist.

He does not have years,
But minutes
To search the ruins
For toes
That wiggle
Or mouths
That suckle
Or bleeding hearts
That still beat
Like tremors
In puddles...

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Though all are blessed with eyes to see,
Eyes never lay sight upon the seer;
No retina perceives the seedling
beneath its iris.

Ocular nerves sense Occam-ented pictures
Of identity: portraits framed by
Ourselves, Us, and Others
- Whose eyes perceived whole
But whose sense perceived naught.

	How is one to know
	Who it is...

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The phrase "Music to my ears" has been injected toward the 
wrong part of my body, and most unpleasantly personified. 
There is a record player that I let skip and scratch on purpose, hearing 
colorful sound of life back when truth kept us both inside...

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What does it matter to me?
 If plastic clogs the roaring seas. 
All I want is convenience, 
A life of ease. 
Do you think I give a damn? 
If they poison our wells. 
And chainsaw scalpels,
 Erases nature's tender hand. 
I'm busy!
 To busy silver...

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We could speak together,
Decry rabid violence of chronically stressed kids
and young adults acting like kids,
apparently regardless of income or race;
perhaps not of enculturation.

Feeling claustrophobic,
anxious about an unpromising competitive future,
drowning in inch-deep and narrow boxed-in mentoring relationships,
without broad therapeutic merit, or even deep intent;
these are commonly...

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Minding your own business,
In the sea. 
Along came a ship,
To kill me.
They’ve chased my father and my mum,
They’ve killed my grandparents,
And their son.
These little people,
Who carry a gun.
Are totally committed to killing my son.
They don’t seem to fear, 
Or care.
No matter how fast I Run,
I...

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