Best Unlicensed Poems
Her heartbeat echoes like a love moan in my mind,
summoning centuries of refined romanticism soulfully enshrined,
the contralto of her voice a fillatio upon the cock of my consciousness,
through her eyes I see that mystery is the Mistress of meaning beyond regress,
my manly mouth serenades & suckles the rosy pussy of her prophecy, homage cunnilingus,
revelations irresistible in their heretical invigorations excite our imaginations
as we fornicate a ferocious forsooth soothsaying love's reincarnations,
a vignette of virility forthcoming from fate's far side fortifications
presents a primal promise in paranormal inceptions,
Premonitions primitive in heart heat paint
streak the skin of our desire to design an indigenous heaven,
flesh tones warm fast and feral revealing a vitality of spirituality that tongues detonate,
the Universe blooms into a Multiverse as she spreads her spell of star spice scintillation
onto my ripened body rendering her rites fertile in rich freight,
within the brain's wildfire I feel her unction,
Becoming the shaman of our secret skin ceremony
I invoke the spirit of solar youth into veinage voracious for passion's patronage,
sanctifying the unifying lust between the bodily and ghostly unlicensed liberty,
shadow temple of temptation gives offering of blood and song from astral page,
death dream extremes fire hot ejaculation of divine vindication into cosmogony
as she and I have won our now with a win over age,
My Love Muse is more than a woman
she is a savage seduction and a sacred sweetness,
a Goddess of her own Cause...a lover known as Poetess,
her name changes from lifetime to lifetime, yet she is always beauty shown -
J.A.B.
The Perfectionist is Listening
the rich are committing suicide
and taking us with them
the prosthetic limbed bastards
Fort Darwin tottering on fewer stilts
once the masters of the universe
presently picking through garbage
looking for an Icarus to pilot
some way back among the clouds
their telepathic goon squads
armed with the hard on of God
squat in the darkness of doorways
lightning strikes all around
even their machines were clairvoyant
several thousand watts went up my leg
shorting out the only attention span I own
left me perforated but not lacy
wearing all my masks all the time
fragments of self are selves
in a bulemic deconstruction
where form and content
mud wrestle incessantly for attention
on the crazy train to 3 color hell
the protagonists the antagonists
fornicators masturbators liquidators
pariahs and unlicensed poets
preaching hellstone and brimfire
apparently the ancient gods still rule
in their madhouse heaven
petulant and stupid gods
thought their figures included all the angles
sword point conversions gun point perversions
now their carcasses are steppingstones
what quirk of an infinite being
makes this burning plague village
of a planet so alone and necessary
of course none of this is protection
it's psywar out there kids
better find where they hid your dossier
mesmerized of the world unite
you have nothing to lose
but your failed methods of addressing reality
said his twisting tongue
struggling for ratings like any media
the soul cannot erase it can only go sightless
a phantom trapped in melancholy
when we were built to dance
with the twinkling stars
he finally learned to undestroy memory
being an ascended master of non sequitur
carried aloft in the arms of Mother Goose
his metabolic hurricane of why
an inferno of intrigue and superstition
our embryo-headed UFO ruling class
have me inside their fence of skulls
an investment in diagram futures
the idiots
From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/
procrastinating is my hobby,
ask
someone if you don't believe me ,
baby i lay around
as i please
&
work at my own leisure,
incredibly you fail
to understand i am me
and
i love more then like the way that i am- gorgeous courageous
coco golden skin,
painfully
i know you feel the threat of
my momentous appeal
keeps
you you & yeah you -- mystified.
guaranteed your days are filled
with shock and frustration,
haa haa hee
how very exciting to me seeing your not as experienced as I,
unlicensed to tame what i'd never give
freely,
repetitiously you've played the game,
failure must be a sweet pill sallowed whole huh?
adequately i compel my strengths -- my naivety makes
my appeal that more interesting,
call me uniquely imperfections
rarely made in to what many can never comprehend,
my life is my dialogue to my very own daily soap opera
la di da da-- it's more then my sultry walk
as i pass you on bye.
in this corrupted jungle
you have to win or be inhibited by
what others may call taboos,
whew weee your so serious,
chasing prey only to tease-- lingering doubts?
catch me-- i bet you can't.
innocently the line's been crossed
yet
speak not of what should be!
only-- this--
is what you'll know ; procrastinating is my hobby!
I Am The Lioness!
(some may be lost on what i wrote&say but ok lol)
Always Me Ayeshah-Copyright©Ayeshah K.C.L.N 1977-Present YEAR(s)
All right reserved
sick remedy
an unlicensed Kennedy~
my mortality
The fall is being chased by the restless earth
Longing for self-destruct
Melting peat in soil melting contest
Bind the selected space guard
Carbon in the seepage of the earth
Mother Earth sincerely caressed him to death
His life for the carbon ascetics
To remain silent until the time comes
As the faithful lava flow in silence said
Until the time is over
Though litter embraces carbon
Lovebirds carve Indonesian forest dates
Grow all the roots to pierce
Grow a glorious tree
The sled fauna rejoices eternally
Until the virtual green flora
The greed of evil has arrived
Grind humus carbon hermit
Separate trash with iron claws
Stab until the last deep contest
Scattered swarms of carbon
Scattered with burning trash
Soaring high heats space
Forced to gather in the greenhouse
Until the threshold is hard
The heat wakes up the white hermit
The frozen one dwells at the poles of Mother Earth
Like the hell torn apart by the coldness of heaven
Melting white hermit stretches across the oceans
No need for a full moon anymore for the high seas
Where else can we knit peat?
Where else is the hornbill humming?
Where else can you make friends
Where else does the tree title point
Where else do the ants follow
Mother Earth's green carpet is uprooted
Moaning longing for the faithful
Only fog answers
Silencing forest telepathy
There is no distance between shattering and melting
Barbarism overturns manners
Unlicensed emission
Neat! Archaic anarchist party
Caress that are no longer effective
Rahara with money wins the ring
Like heaven that covers the candala
Persuade to crouch
Worship the forest eater
Neat! Rain is not fresh anymore
Slicing squat bones
Acid until the roots are sour
No more customizable blankets
What's missing are empty tones
Who leaves raindrops
Quietly bid farewell to the roar of the chainsaw
Net zero emissions?
On tons of carbon footprint
Return carbon fiber to earth's peat
Persuade again longing to fall to earth
The litter that used to be drifting slowly
Perched gently on the love of the earth
Accompany the carbon ascetic who doesn't keep his promise
I'm here
Wana Gosong, 24.10.2021
Do We Sleep to Dream or to Forget
Do we sleep to dream or to forget is the question I get asked a lot from my clients
Whom I council, for you see I am an unlicensed psychologist but a sarcastic psychologist at that. (Don’t tell anyone is my only disclaimer). Anyway, to answer your question about sleep, I always thought sleeping it was something everyone did like a natural reflex to shut down and detach from all the repetitive bull-crap they experienced throughout their day. I mean come on! Lets face the facts we all need to sleep even if you don’t have a bed to sleep on or in what ever never mind I said that back to the question.
I would say to the best of my knowledge and understanding that’s a common fact that not only do we dream to sleep, ah; umm I mean sleep to dream but we also sleep to forget as in that house party you had when your parents were on vacation.
Or that break up from that psychotic ex-girlfriend who was half stacker and half bipolar activist always coming up with reasons to monitor your every move. Like your work schedule, classmates, on the attendance, mid-terms, final exams and every phone number in the your contacts list in your phone, plus the number of followers and friends you have on ever social media site in existence. Or that time you and your friends got into a nightclub with fake ID’s that were poorly made and ended up getting so drunk that you forgot your own name.
So there you have it folks I would say yes we do sleep to not only dream but to forget. But don’t take my word for it no seriously don’t because you are dreaming and I am just a random voice in your head and you are most likely tripped out somewhere thinking to a licensed therapist but you’re not.
Your hangover will begin in 3,2,1 Wake up!!
The rumbling and shovelling
Pandemonium and desecration
The killings and maiming of souls
Boko harambee, the harem of
murderers
The genie let loose, murder
incorporated,
Unlicensed to kill
It's the wild! wild!! North on
the brink!
The north overrun
The hounds on the run
The hunt only just began.
Boko haram has taken the
center stage
The grave is filling, yet it takes
more and more dead.
It's the Wild! Wild!! North on
the brink.
(Written on the 2nd May, 2015)
N.B. presently Boko haram, Killer herdsmen, bandits, kidnappers and others have overran Nigeria and overwhelming the Security forces.
Thirsty Cars
Those steep, tiring hills going home, I had been in town
bought a new kitchen sink, the second one in forty years,
nothing lasts, that’s how traders make their ill-gotten
gains. My car was exhausted trailing smoke, to lighten
its burden I alighted walked in front as it followed me
slowly. On a flat stretch it teasingly overtook and drove
in front of me and down a track into a deep ravine where
feral donkeys live and run unlicensed garages I wasn’t in
the mood to play “follow the leader,” so I walked home
past wayside bars where cars guzzled Brazilian cane fuel
and flashed their indicators, I ignored this depravity and
hasted away. Midnight, when my car pulled up outside,
it had lost the kitchen-sink and was splattered in manure
of the long eared members of the horse family.
Preponderance of dimensions perplexes with bliss string fervor
Lake mine previous
(stream of consciousness
imponderable) poetic efforts,
sans spiritus mundi, converse
sing a boot unfamiliar thread,
and ignored common
sense ne'er re: hearse
sing, asper William Butler Yeats,
aye went off deep end, perhaps
provoked at least une nurse
sis sear re: literary unlicensed violation,
and additionally one emphatic curse,
where mine poe whet
tick feet did immerse
for the methamphetamine time acid,
(I said to myself), why traverse
pointlessly imagining something worse
tread about, i.e. say...tripping
along head over heels, yet
nagging notion would not disperse
venturing blithely writing
plunging into terra incognita parallel
universe a "multiverse"
herewith also Ark
chew woolly Noah intent
for yours truly to drown while purse
sue wing abstract notion,
viz domain of science fiction,
never intermittently intersperse
sing following lines with "HELP, I need
somebody...", nor deliberately submerge
readers within a mini sea course
of confusion, but I feel confounded
gripped, lured...and will gladly reimburse,
should delving over my head diverse
if eyeing breadth, length, scope...
beyond realm of mom and pop verse
a tile theoretical physicists,
who casually identify ten dimensions
— eleven including time, nor averse
slithering thru worm holes
such more'n flight of fancy seems perverse,
whereat numberless whirled
wide webs presents obverse
to accepted paradigm reverse
sing scientific tenets describing
quarks, plus portal bellow much
room (See Alice in Wonderland) disperse
sing notions, where exodus
down the rabbit hole
into alternate self contained
separate cosmological infinitesimal channels
far more exciting than reality television!
Something is
wrong with
the butterfly
sitting below
her Adam’s
apple.
Hormones
destroy the
metabolism
of her life.
Anger-waves
cause cracks
in relationship;
epicenter is
in her neck.
Her black hairs
fall unusually.
Anxiety spreads
before her
vanity table.
Love dries in
depression. Their
bed becomes a
parched garden.
Her unlicensed
words hit his
heart. A death
rattle echoes in
the throat of
their family life.
A physician and
pharmacist derive
pleasure from her
butterfly gland.
Fabiyas M V
It was a beaten down old rusted out 1948 Ford pick-up truck.
But it was mine for a mere twenty six dollars and nineteen cents.
Don’t ask how Grandma came up with that price.
The exact amount I had in my piggy bank.
It did not run, but I was ten.
How much driving can an unlicensed ten-year-old do?
All summer long for three summers I sat in that truck.
Driving to Portland, Colorado, Texas and Maine.
My imagination loved that 1948 Ford so much.
Getting my real truck a few years later
Was almost a letdown, but not totally.
Lake previous poetic effort,
sans spiritus mundi, converse
sing a boot unfamiliar thread,
and ignored common
sense ne'er re: hearse
sing, asper William Butler Yeats,
aye went off deep end, perhaps
provoked at least une nurse
sis sear re: literary unlicensed violation,
and additionally one emphatic curse,
where mine poe whet
tick feet did immerse
for the methamphetamine time acid,
(I said to myself), why traverse
pointlessly imagining something worse
tread about, i.e. say...tripping
along head over heels, yet
nagging notion would not disperse
venturing blithely writing
plunging into terra incognita parallel
universe a "multiverse"
herewith also Ark
chew woolly Noah intent
for yours truly to drown while purse
sue wing abstract notion,
viz domain of science fiction,
never intermittently intersperse
sing following lines with "HELP, I need
somebody...", nor deliberately submerge
readers within a mini sea course
of confusion, but I feel confounded
gripped, lured...and will gladly reimburse,
should delving over my head diverse
if eyeing breadth, length, scope...
beyond realm of mom and pop verse
a tile theoretical physicists,
who casually identify ten dimensions
— eleven including time, nor averse
slithering thru worm holes
such more'n flight of fancy seems perverse,
whereat numberless whirled
wide webs presents obverse
to accepted paradigm reverse
sing scientific tenets describing
quarks, plus portal bellow much
room (See Alice in Wonderland) disperse
sing notions, where exodus
into alternate self contained
separate cosmological infinitesimal channels
far more exciting than reality television!
Post-coital Tristesse:
Are you feeling violated, like you’ve repeatedly been the victim of some heinous, perverted molestation too gruesome to detail? Does the term gang rape fill you with a new-found sense of disgust? Do you feel as though you’ve been tossed out of Eden, your innocence lost, virtue corrupted, soul shattered? Do you feel empty despite the abundance of consumer goods that fill your shelves, stock your pantries, furnish your chambers, and entertain your senses? If so, there may be hope for you. If not, you’re a sl*t. If you feel like you’ve come away with a bad case of the clap, don’t be surprised. You did it to yourself. Now go home and put on your big boy pants or your big girl panties. There’s work to be done and you’re not helping. Let’s face it, most people are sheep. You can be like that, or you can take responsibility for ennobling the human condition by seeing through the bull! It’s your choice to make. Bon soir, mon ami.
just 50 years ago
i was very sick
no school, no play
couldn't walk alone
I came and went between life and death
due to pulmonary tuberculosis
in our neighborhood
No pharmacy pharmacist
No hospital or doctor
There was no health center
Only
Unlicensed pharmacist and doctor
there was a woman
Afraid to get her shot, I even fell down
She hugged me every time
and she cured me completely
Traces of it still remain but
no one called her to be pharmacist or doctor
rather chatted
50 years after that
I met her again with someone's help
cannot be expressed verbally or in writing
she passed through hard times
We met in a shabby diner
enjoyed light meal
Her fork was busy carrying me food.
They are the biggest depositors in my husband’s bank.
I consider the whole family both vile and rank.
They struck oil back in the hills where they are from.
However, they are all uncouth and dumb.
I have to hold my nose and run and hide
whenever Granny starts making lye soap outside.
That Jethro will never get anywhere with me.
He is big and stupid with the IQ of a flea.
Elly May has scores of unlicensed pets.
She keeps them all on the property without regrets.
Whatever that clan will do next can’t be predicted.
If I am ever lucky, they will be evicted.