Capillary Poems | Examples

Season of the sticks

Why does the longing of lived wax melt clean off your wicks? 
Oh, how do you hold a capillary existence fending off the ticks?
Over and over to lay wasted during the cold times, of treats and tricks
Daylight will return beauty to you in magical ways after the season of the sticks
Save your strength, take time to slumber; why be awake to witness the politics?

Immanent Yet Transcendent

What is as close 
As one's breath 
Not the last one
Nor the next one 
Rather at the
Momentary point
You wonder if
You are inhaling 
Or exhaling 

What granular 
Invisible aspect 
Of this precious gas 
Is entering the lungs
To exit as
Carbon dioxide 
Or find a capillary 
To take a ride
On a blood stream 
Rush to the brain
Keeping it alive
All without intent 
To do so

Whilst processing 
Information received 
Instantaneously sending 
Electrical impulses
To fingers hovering over 
An imaginary keyboard 

All which are immanent
Yet transcendent from
breathing

Substance

Chemical can be detected in urine and serum using gas chromatography nitrogen phosphorus detection(GC-NPD) and gas chromatography mass spectrometry techniques(GC/MS).Poison is detected in food and environmental samples through capillary electrophoresis(MEKCS) with UV-detection after solid phase extraction.The Sonnenschein test consists in the electron-transfer oxidation of substance,via cerium mediated radical reactions.Besides, 
this test produces a violet colour more stable than that obtained with 
potassium dichromate which is the recommended assay for identification 
of this drug.Most poisons can be detected in your blood or urine.

Ardhnarishwar

A fine capillary 
Loops our form
Over front and back
Integrating polarities
Of the two halves
Of Hirayangarbha 
Left female, right male
Ardhnarishwar 

This cognition 
Known when soma flows
Energised by magnetism 
Unhindered by blockages
In our pure energy body
Held erect by the Sushumna 
Staff of power, root to crown
Revealing within heart - God

26-January-2022

Capillary Roots

Lilacs blooming
out of my eyes

give me an utterly
gorgeous demise.

If I pull them out
I still can't see;

it's getting increasingly
harder to breathe.

What can I do?
Nobody sees

the discomfort induced
by these glorified weeds.

Ascent and Descent

In-form consciousness, feeling a sublime stirring within, senses divine energy at the Muladhara whirring. It then begins to move upwards straight up the Sushumna funnel, the liquified energy within the fine capillary tube resembling a serpent rising. At the crown, it pauses and then separation ends. We merge to become the kundalini! Yet, we are in form. Beyond the Sahasrara, lies the Universe. Below, is our glowing heart, where union of polarities holds promise of endless explosive bliss. We stoop to conquer.

There was no way in
Orifice being too small
Dissolved to enter

30-July-2020

Departures Lament

The wont of sleeps will may trip on illusive tonight 

and stumble on a rhythm 

laying plaint and wet in some other dream 


Sleep may gnaw at my pillow tonight 

as the drug of you courses through my veins 

and such capillary wanting 

may perturb the stars 

and question their romance above me hanging 


Aye sleep won't fall so easily 

as I toss and turn, burned by your imagery 

and you may haunt the dawn 

while you call to me 

but tonight for sure, sleep will not bless me readily 



……………………… but I crave your touch, your kiss, holding you, touching you
.... my aching desire is my love for you.

Chainsaw

Helping my father and uncles when I was ten,
felled a tree, on break then ready to go again.

I walked around the corner of the truck
as someone pulled the cord and I got stuck.

Now that chainsaw’s engine didn’t start,
but it didn’t have to, to rip my skin apart.

Right through my jeans, but not too deep,
saw my flesh before it began to seep.

Dyed my t-shirt like a canvas with the body’s ink,
those cells made a mosaic from red to pink.

To my surprise, I was left with no pain,
but anesthetic’s steel lacked the mercy of the bar chain.

Skilled hands drove a cutting needle’s threads
through clotting cascades and capillary beds.

On my right thigh, a scar’s pledge,
for every kind of limb, Stihl has the edge.

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Contest: Any Rhyme Form – An Early Childhood Memory
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Written: 04.20.18

Underground Rivers

Underground rivers unsettle thoughts,
feelings on stable ground.

Real estate doesn't sound as real
with thoughts of hyporheic flow
beneath our feet,
out of sight and sound.

Rivers are meant to have light on top,
transparency.
Underground flow must look more like a furtive capillary
than an upfront tributary,
bringing salvific moisture
down into and across and through
deep ecological roots of fertility.

Hypostatic unions
are contrasts between understory backgrounds
emerging into focal foreground,
like darkness of night's flowing complexities
from which light emerges each day
then fades again,
like Yang creation stories
emerging from Yin
hypostatic partnering,
hyporheic flow
deep down within ecological consciousness,
subterranean channels
feeding timeless roots
of healthy real estates,
cooperative becoming.

Flower Power

Control me, console me, bestow and bless with your power and beauty
Possess me, caress my senses with exotic intoxicating perfumes
Cast spells with your existence and immeasurable intricacies
Elaborate, exact folds as if replicated in God made molds
How such beauteous bounty sprouted up from solid, sullen dirt
Annual artwork appears, here and there, just everywhere
If you dare to pause and submit to the permeation of Earths' creations
Fill eyes and nose, let pores absorb, OD on natures' natural healing
Entertain and entrance, illicit pupillary and capillary responses
Health enhancing, life sustaining, sole saving, anger erasing
No effort required to witness these miracles of all shapes and sizes
Submit, permit the anesthetic to sedate and elate as the desired effect
In heart and soul, feel the surge and satiety of brains' happy hormones
If be contagious, infect me now, and remain as a long term condition
Eternally may I be ridden and wrecked, afflicted and addicted
Every second, day and hour, every thought and breath and blink 
Safe and effective, only side effects being happiness and love and passion while under the influence of THE POWER OF THE FLOWER

In a Stroke

rent from the agony
past.

muscle mass made
from joy too.

hangs now deprived
form. Nerves dead.
Dead blood. Hard,
insoluble damns
capillary at
single 
stroke.

higher disfunction 
set on repeat
flickers behind
eyes bright
that do not bare looking

drooping red ring
rheumy. makes a
crust on the lost beauty

cheekbones once 
chalk hills
dressed with
apple trees

are now nursery for flakes
of unstoppable tears

'wipe your eyes old man'

If only you could.

Para Bellum

Arm deals and more arm deals, that's all I see.

Calibres change, the type of artillery

Changes, the game players grey and go and

Are replaced by darker capillary

With greater thirst for bleeding enemy

And with more dangerous artillery.

 

Deadly toys in the hands of eager youth,

Intended for warding off intruders:

Scaring them with heaps of artillery

So that they would harder prepare soldiers

If the should covet and desire to loot.

In their minds they have peace in their brooders.

 

But to brood over unused firepower

While only playing with blanks on dummies

Kindles unquiet thirst only blood can quench

Kills empathy for sonless war mummies,

And in blasts of gun smoke the youth's flower

Drowns its thirst in the thud of fall'n bodies.

 

(c) Nyonglema

Best Friend

You don't know hate until you're full of s**t
Death serves a higher being below our ways
The only sad thing is that you can't commit
It's not what everyone thinks they praise

The blast can easily break my brittle chest
Emotional grin because you're full of sin
What does the world think they're blessed?
In the end you will regret what had been

Faulty actions, universal attractions and heinous reactions
The angel among you is falling dead
Because you followed what you thought you said

F***ed in the head and soon to be in a coma instead
Spit on society to watch the weak capillary actions

How I Managed Not To Be a Doc

HOW I MANAGED not TO BE A DOC

You know something,
Me a thing, I think not worth than a farthing
was put in a college of Medicine.
Paternal honour intact was to be kept.

Heavy in heart and blurred in vision
When thought of those bespectacled sermons
On blood and urea, capillary and neuron.
I tugged at my mom, a deaf ear she gave.

Like a prep child, I crossed the day
For the doom to impend on my lovely day
On the calendar on the wall with landscapes gay.
Oh! All because my father loved me so.

On that day I stood on a rostrum
Feverish, next to a corpse bloated and grey
I was to say my name and greet the group.
But all I could choke out was a meek gibber.

I fell down with a thud,next to the corpse, 
funny,all came running to the body lifeless,
for he was the specimen for one whole year.
The thing I knew next, 

On my bed cozy I was
And I think I heard my father say, 
Smiling,
‘Oh,It is all right my dear’!

The Press

When it’s in motion its
deafening clatter will
mesmerise you if you
stand still and listen; but
when it is silent
the great room seems to sigh.

And in the yard the vans prepare
to course through a city’s anatomy,
deliver to every capillary
nutritional gossip and rumours of wars.

___

Note: Benefits from being read aloud, or heard in the head.

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