Best Vertebrae Poems
Don't tell me I'm beautiful when I've done something different with my make-up
Don't call me beautiful because I've bought a new bra and you can see it through my shirt
And never tell me I'm beautiful
Because I've lost weight
Tell me I am beautiful
When I am brushing my teeth
When I have toothpaste on my chin from trying to talk to you at the same time
And all you can think about the whole time I'm talking
Is how you want to kiss it clean
Don't tell me I'm beautiful when I've done my hair the way you like it
Don't tell me I'm beautiful when I'm angry and you want me to stop being angry
Don't tell me I'm beautiful because I look good in heels
Tell me I'm beautiful because I look like I feel beautiful
Because my vertebrae are aligned like stars tonight
And I can't, stop, looking, up
Don't tell me I'm beautiful to brag to your friends
Don't tell me I'm beautiful to stop me from crying
Don't tell me I'm beautiful when I'm drunk, when I've packed my bag, when I'm leaving
Tell me I'm beautiful when I'm reading
And the words reflect in my eyes like fairy lights
And there is nowhere I would rather be
Don't tell me I'm beautiful when the door is locked
Don't tell me I'm beautiful with your trousers around your ankles
Don't tell me that I am beautiful when I'm on my knees
And if I'm not
Don't tell me I'm beautiful to get me on my knees
Tell me I'm beautiful when I am on my feet
When I am on my feet despite these goddamn bags under my eyes
Tell me I am beautiful when those bags look like hammocks and all you want to do is crawl inside
And fall asleep with me
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gk0e0L0v8ag
Written: December 30, 2023
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Embrace the oxymoron, if you will.
Shall I fool you with monsoon wrath?
Despite tears of rain, life will prevail.
via shattered aspirations.
clouds flirt with slate-azure moon
sunlight kisses the sea at dawn.
wind sighs to trees in plains of lustrous dew.
and scoff at me and you.
as trilling robins show up.
A radiant core of nature's elixir
yet, sunlight will flicker.
cloudless white will appear.
as gold, zenith, and amethyst adorn the sky.
Flaming saffron is poised to streak.
Cureless by modern science.
bare ribs, limbs, and joints fried.
Whispering winds hindered dexterity.
My vertebrae melted, were bare, and broke.
senseless failure to stand or fully expel.
weakened and can't sleep or thrive.
Wairua Worth dark wrath wrecked while
tethered as terms tumble to thrill.
Quill Genesis grows with glorious grace.
while the vile sword is versatile.
Cast aside vanity; dangling merely fits.
Rhapsody hopes to work; ponder if sick.
in shape, rekindled with sunshine
Life waltz beyond light, its nodes drew.
Slightly erratic amid a black haze.
feeling weak, leaving me bewildered.
My soul is cunning and cynical.
earned seclusion as slight streams.
Only gloomy storms entice me.
I hope for sunshine and a light breeze.
Shimmer! Sheer light!
dimming shadows ensue.
My life is on a slippery slide.
spaciously clear passageways.
shimmer! shimmer! before I leave.
subtly allow the warm rays in.
dance around my fading bed.
across the faintly lit abyss.
I should set upward...
*NOTE: Jack and I wonder how many of you have heard of the Zona Shue case –
an American murder victim who had revenge in Virginia in the late 1800s.
Zona was killed by her husband, Edward Shue, who then took elaborate steps to
cover his crime. In an attempt to disguise Zona’s broken neck, Edward dressed her
corpse in a scarf and high necked dress, stuffed her coffin with pillows (to support
her vertebrae) and refused to allow even the doctor near the body.
However, Zona appeared to her mother and revealed the truth. Following
exhumation and an autopsy, Edward was found guilty of murder. It was the only
case in American history where information provided by a ghostly apparition was
admitted as evidence for consideration by jurors.
Jack and I are co-sponsoring a contest on ghost poems. Our co-write "A Ghost's
Testimony" below will give you an idea what we're seeking in entries.
"A Ghost's Testimony"
"She must have fallen down the stairs:
A tragic accident," he said.
"I've washed her body, laid her out -
Oh, Doctor Knapp, my Zona's dead!"
"No accident! Shue broke my neck.
Mother, please hear my ghostly plea.
Take him to court and make him pay;
It's murder in the first degree."
“I’ve dressed her in her high necked frock…
Thought pillows by her neck looked fine…
She’d want to wear this scarf,” he wept.
“But no one touch the corpse - she’s mine!”
"Thanks, Mom, for bringing this to court.
The autopsy was not done right!
With malice Shue cut my life short.
Exhume my body; shed some light."
“Her mother wants to see me hang,
But she can’t prove my guilt,” he fumed.
“She claims the body sheet turned red,
And wants to have my wife exhumed.”
"The judge disagreed and allowed
My spirit world testimony.
Shue, my killer, was not so proud;
A death in jail for this phony!"
Invited into Her circle
of five points,one for each
of the qualities She crystallizes,
truth as fire, earth as nourishment,
body in water, lights in air, and ether as love,
in Her center a sacred thought having origin in primal purpose,
we embraced as immortals do,
mouth to ear and song to song,
mind to memory and wish to wisdom,
connecting with the ease of melody on morning's hope,
frollicing within the gamble of a galaxy grown mad from curiosity,
the path of the Prime Mover performs a pounce along our venerable vertebrae,
She widens a door which illuminates a portico,columns white marble and red veins,
tempered flames in low tremble make vigil to the death bed masks of ancestors,
who made glory a partner against multitudes of dangers,such as living without loyalty,
encouraged by Her gravitas,Her need for a hero,I stared into those vacant eyes
on the pedestals held upright by iron frames,and I heard them chant I must for Her,
made so lovely with a crown of moon glow,
I kissed this Woman's hand,heaven in my sight,
my oath to vindicate Her from profane might,
I awoke facing a mirror,believing in Her dearly,
my headgear fastened and plumed,
feathers of a hawk and eagle divinely sprout atop,
from then I only knew Her words,and a dreamy picture,
however,I trusted Her affection,I could live on Her meaning -
J.A.B.
The human skeleton,
is made up of 206 bones
By jove, they are hard,
as if made of stones!
The brain you think with
is in the Skull or Cranium,
the Maxilla and the Mandible
are for chewing bubble gum.
It's atop the spine
which has 33 Vertebrae in all
You're sure gonna break it
if there's a nasty fall.
The 12 pairs of ribs
act just like a big ring,
while 10 fix to the Sternum
the bottom 2 are Floating.
The shoulder blade or the Scapula
is joined with the Clavicle
How they organize the movement
Is another spectacle.
The arms have the Humerus,
the Radius and the Ulna,
The hands' have wrist bones
called Carpals (not made in China).
With Metacarpals and Phalanges
we complete our hand,
don't you forget the lower limbs,
upon which we stand.
The hip bones make the Pelvis
from which the Femur originate
If you gyrate it like elvis
the Patella is sure to break.
Tibia and Fibula
are there in the Shin
The Tarsals and Metatarsals
shape your feet as it's seen.
Our journey ends here
Let me take your leave,
Take good care of your bones
for as long as you live.
- The Goodbye Goose-
Winter polishes at four o'clock, shining all the rocks aglaze.
Reflection, stretching shadows.
Longer thinner men - longer thinner still.
Shadowy tall , feeling small.
Sunmangled window in a diamond quadrant.
Keyhole orifice and creeping becomes nostalgia.
Why dont you just shut up and call?
Home going geese-slipstream in a vee.
High honking traffic, trailing vapour leaves you exposing me.
Cascading spirits slipping down the walls, swirling eddies
and smoky waterfalls, draping over furniture like slimy octopi...
Drunken weekend metaphors , Monday morning remorse.
Up and down the ladders of my memory, tinkly piano playing on my spiny vertebrae.
Permeating lies of my story told not of voice or tongue or lips-no.
But of crafty bits that left unsaid, untold encyclopaedia of me.
T'would be so simple to top you up, yet dark forces warn me ,
to pimp me out to you is to forfeit martyrdom and victory crown,
deprives the joy of shooting you down, shifting the blame.
Denies the stature as abuser , distracts my winner into loser.
Never be a frontal goose .
BEYOND THE MILK OF HERA PAST THE HEAVEN'S VERTEBRAE
THE STARS BLINK GLEAMING SAGAS, IN THE DAWN THEY FADE AWAY
MY SHIP MAKES AN INCISION IN EVERY THING THEY SAY
THE SEA WEARS LIKE A SILKY DRESS THE BEAUTY OF THE NIGHT
AND NEVER DOES THE MOON APPEAR SO BEAUTIFUL IN WHITE
MY SAILS, IMPATIENT WITH THE WIND, REFLECT CELESTIAL LIGHT
OLD TRITON'S SHELL IS SOUNDLESS IN POSEIDON'S CALMING DEEP
IF PROTEUS WOULD CHANGE HIS SHAPE, WHAT FORM WOULD HE NOW KEEP
THE COMPASS NEEDLES'S IGNORANT OF FAIR AURORA'S SLEEP
LIKE ORPHEUS I SEEK TO CATCH A GLIMPSE OF MY LOVE THERE
AS IF EURYDICE COULD BE ALIVE IN VIEWLESS AIR
MY MAP OF MAL DU SIECLE IS A CHART OF MAL DE MER
BENEATH THE WINGS OF HALCYON I WAIT CALYPSO'S WHIM
A GENTLE ZYPHYR CAN'T INSURE MY EQUALIBRIUM
MY NAVIGATION LIGHTS GLOW BRIGHT AND THEN THEY SEEM TO DIM
DO HEAVEN'S ANGELS SALT THE SEAS WITH TEARS OF JOY OR PAIN
ARE ALL MY PATHS AIMED AT DEATH OR DO THEY LEAD ME HOME AGAIN
THE AUTOPILOT SQUEAKS AND THERE'S A LUFFING IN THE MAIN.
Daddy's specter plectrums mercilessly
Fraying my nerves raw
with oxidized guitar strings.
my thoughts relentlessly hemorrhage
onto clay vinyl grooves
s p i n n i n g
endless nights
of
suffocation.
a midnight jazz wail
lacerates
the void of your absence.
notes gnaw through bone marrow
ravenous maggots
in the corpse
of our love.
Chords violently crash
splintering my fractured vertebrae
a car wreck
in slow motion.
plucking
the frayed synapses
of my misfiring
modal limbic brain.
feel the searing electric distortion
static fuzz of madness
surge through
morrow's marrow
my moanin'
a primal scream
at the Eve of Destruction
trapped in a skipping groove
of creation
shattering guitars
and blasting kneecaps
in an empty cathedral
of resounding sound
Our touch
a violent crescendo
of needles and poisoned honey
pain swollen sweet
as a mother's milk
laced with a junkie's fix
on a stillborn birthday morn
each note
a razor-sharp reflection
etched in stretch-marked
scar tissue
of the agony that throbs
within this moog menagerie
of fractured femininity
set
Between the sets
of our shattered chords
a single note lingers- soft
almost tender-
like a child's last breath
before the
final
f i n a l e
Silence crawls
a venomous asp
a deafening absence
louder than stacked amps
of patriarchy
reverberating in the hollow spaces
between drumming heartbeats
where your persecuting promises
used to nest and breed
I am the discarded B-side
of the one-hit wonder
rising from dumpster-filled
lungs of domesticity
reborn
in the Electric Avenue
of my own making
singing
Billie's bruises
Muddy's floods and
Johnson's hellhounds
to the ghosts
of futures stillborn
in this Rhapsody
of beautiful
destruction
Moon-faced and sickle-smiled
I conduct this orchestrated
Savage band of ruin
my voiceless voice
a lightning rod
splitting the sky
of expectations
as I agonizingly birth myself anew
in the RCA Victor Rhapsody of Blue
of Beautiful
reconstruction
P e r h a p s…
a new refrain
caterpillar
green, young
crawling, metamorphosing, molting
larva, silkworm, vertebrae, gossamer
flittering, flapping, perching
winged, iridescent
butterfly
Date written: 11/06/2022
Bedsprings crochet bones together.
His back is sutured to gripes
stitched to gummy joints.
In the toilet, avoiding the mirror,
humming softly,
shunning conversation with himself -
the ceiling drips a sump of memories.
The park --- Frances revolves confused.
"I don't understand."
A phrase with self-winding words.
A slight miscalculation,
a turning away at the precise moment
she turned towards him;
an error of timing really.
Frances whirs on "I don't understand."
Later he understood she overdosed.
He imagines this lethal power
over her life to be his.
Time whittles cavities with calcifications.
Softly the spine of a storybook breaks -
where one stitch patches a sorrow
a spur prods and rips.
When he listens to the hollows
between the long vertebrae of his life,
he hears a theory crumbling away
under slowly grinding cogs.
Bones
We have 206 bones in our skeletal system
Far too many to completely list ‘em
But here are a few for your edification
In case you missed ‘em in your education
Tibia, fibia, femur, and sternum
Are four of the larger if you’d care to learn ‘em
But malleus, incus and stapes I fear
Are the smallest you have, so they fit in your ear
You have a funny bone called the “humerous”
You’ve only got two, so they aren’t very numerous
Your ribs, on the contrary number twenty-four
Adam gave one away, still he had plenty more
Enclosing your brain is the hardest bone you’ve got
Known as the “Cranium” more often than not
And “Mandible” is the medical name for “Jaw”
You rely on it mostly when it’s time to gnaw
Your phalanges are your fingers and toes
Both may be places where a ring goes
And down around your knees are your patellas
You scraped them a lot when you were young fellas
Your vertebrae make up your spine; you’ve got ‘em
Cervical, thoracic, and lumbar near your bottom
They’re separated by small discs in between
But should one slip, the pain can be mean
Of course, there are others that are well-known
Like the radius, ulna, and coccyx bone
Sit them all down in a comfortable seat
And at a fancy restaurant, say “Bone Appetit!”
Get Your Dr. Seuss On! Contest
Sponsor: The Seeker
HAVE YOU EVER SEEN A FAT SNAKE???
Snakes are squirmy and sassy and naughty,
snakes are wormy and creepy and haughty.
They sleep and hiss and eat all day,
they creep and miss their feet to play.
At the zoo I met a snake big and fat,
Mr. Bleu was let out by the pig and sat.
Vertebrae with a long tongue to scare,
from Paraguay sung a song declared.
Mr. Bleu eats rats and sheep and cows,
a new peacock trapped in a heap by the bough.
Last night I heard a Wild-a-beast cry,
his fright concurred the snake’s feast dry.
He preferred moist meat not old jerky,
he heard the Hoist speak happy and perky.
“You fat ol’ snake get out of this zoo!”
But he sat on a steak, that cruel Mr. Bleu!
He stayed and snacked on a poor giraffe,
he laid on his back all sore and then laughed.
“I’m fat and don’t care what I eat around here!”
He sat and stared on a seat without fear.
Too bad that the green elephant ol’ Mr. Trick,
was a sad marine irrelevant and quite sick.
He turned to Mr. Bleu with a face of disgust,
so stern and threw up with haste so robust.
Mr. Bleu got squirmy and his sassiness died,
he knew he was naughty and with hissiness cried.
“I can’t believe you’d do that to me!”
Mr. Trick wouldn’t leave and stood by the tree.
He stumbled over to the cruel Mr. Bleu,
his tummy rumbled and knew it was true!
The naughty snake shriveled up and retreated,
so haughty and stayed belittled and defeated!
Date Written: May 25, 2016
a hungover farmer went one day
to a blacksmith shop to buy some hay
please dont think this funny
for he had no money
and so went home less vertebrae.
Let us discuss the circus alive in the theater of your conflicts,
the Master of Ceremonies cremates caution
in the center of curiosity's conciet
where birds bleed songs of azure agony,
madness remembers the melody of a midnight march
to a shrine built from bricks baste with war sweat and stress
as Death sits solemnly thumping it's cranial cudgel methodically
atop drums taut with elephant hide,
a child approaches through the Hippodrome's east chamber
juggling three radiant orbs, omni, omega, ovation,
the audience of thousands uproars unanimously
when Hate, Love & Fate manifest as beasts of the best brutality
encircling the child with a primordial hunger in their bellies,
their handlers cocky and competitive, controls the animals with elements
such as air, fire & water, one by one they rush the child
with violent intent, in their hearts victim & victory are synonomous,
the tiger repelled by the fire of the child's imagination,
the bear repulsed from the whistle of his innocence,
and the lepoard refrains from the current of his youth,
in the balcony, Venus and Mars applaud proudly for sagacious survival,
acrobats appear, the grey one Fatigue, the green one is Resolve,
despite loathing each other they must be team or die from the heights,
gasps from a crowd caught in a conspiracy of soul piracy
as self destruction stands cackling on the arena floor with his anger crackling red,
attempting to whip the hands of the acrobats with a dragon's tail
encrusted with the crushed vertebrae of cowardice,
he strikes their wrists but they secure the dizzing stunt in defiance,
cheers collide with the chimera of acrobats transformed into an eagle's scream
while the Master of Ceremonies welcomes the women of warhorse wishes,
J.A.B.
Like a character in a Dr Seuss book
I play the New Years “Push Me Pull You” game
Daily I stretch stubborn limbs
Into pretzel-like shapes
Hoping to mitigate nature’s downward force
I beg my legs to carry me with a ballerina’s lightness
Instead I’m gratified to lumber like an elephant
But just as surely
Gravity returns each night
Tightening my joints’ screws
Pulling my tendons’ strings
Compressing my spine's vertebrae
Ignoring my pleas
To just stay where I put them
Hips refuse to do my bidding
I say, “Swivel!”.
They reply with a half-hearted twist
Like opening a tin with a rusty can opener
They creak and protest
Surrendering minimally to my commands
I pray for rubber-band arms
As I reach behind to unzip
I receive a lock-jaw response
Elbows protrude in disjointed positions
Instead of a ballerina’s plie
My legs respond with twisted screams of agony
My neck once had backward eyes that inspired terror
In kids afraid of being discovered
Now it is straight-jacketed into a forward position
Like a soldier in a parade line
Afraid to get called-out by the commander
Don’t push us too far my muscles yell
Aches and pains too terrible to imagine
Will be your rewards
If you overextend.