Best Tumorous Poems

Once the night had fallen upon a sleepless slumber,
Whence the winter woke me when the third was three in number.

I sense that a wince doth...

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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...

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I took the only seed of hope
for any future healthy Truffula Trees,
but reminded my clinically depressed acquaintance
we are all born co-redeemers,
not addictively incubating extractors.

Ours is...

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Do I want to only look at new ones,
never been used,
or is that a too restrictive market,
too competitively priced
for virginity of place and relationship on...

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Twice the night had fallen upon a sleepless slumber,
Yet again awoken by winter when the third was three in number.

I sense that a silence doth...

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A wince doth lurk wearing which wicked gaze,
Of conniving cast shadows ‘tween my windowpanes.

Gazing through the window’s diaphanous gelid glass, 
I see a flushing fluorescent...

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I sit here writing this message to you,
My dilemma is choosing that somebody who,
Will cause me to soar and fly ever higher,
But this selection process...

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For the past I pray in the tumorous night gone heavy and long,
Churning in the chirp of the tree frog’s soporific song.

The air thickens like...

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Beneath this sordid stanza's, storm swept night such, eroglyphics ?
Frost upon his warping, window panes; oozing opaques, of blood red crimson's
Bleeding from these burnt sashes...

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Beneath this sordid stanzas storm swept night

Such eroglyphics; frost upon the warping window panes

Oozing opaques of blood red crimson, bleeding from burnt sashes

Crying ashes, screaming...

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Humorous Humors and tumorous assumers and crazy-fascinated consumers spend their money with wings on luxuries of the heart, going topsy-turvy over pleasures and expensive firs...

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A WRAP
Something is wrong
With this so-called nation
They hold in esteem
The villains of this occupation
Something, is wrong
with their thinking;
The people in this nation;
Have turned against the...

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Does nothing really matter or does everything serve a purpose, 
is a dream just to be shattered or something beneath the surface. 
So many lives...

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What lies beneath the nuptial necropolis?
Sun-glints of memory,
warm rays of kinder days,
tranquil as the soil-sleepers
before they broke the coffin confines
and howled free.
What lies beneath the...

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I noticed just yesterday
while glowering about something else
now already
once again
forgotten...

I seem to have lost my good-sensed humor
along my stumbling
isolating internal say

Toward this red STOP! sign
searching...

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