THE WAKE WITHOUT VIGIL
Time longer than rope
Chokes hearts dangling
In the reality of struggle:-
Grieving mothers and widows
Veil their grief in sagging bosoms
As they wail in excruciating silence:-
Fragments of men, void of hope,
View and count communal graves
Swelling with dirt burying the dead:-
(Buried are “The Wretched Of The Earth”)
In the neap tides of sorrows,
Mourners wade the airy blood
Of the children of Pilate’s hands:-
In the stale winds of time, “woe is me”
Cries the forsaken land–lamenting scriptures—
Echoing Freneau: “They saw their country’s woe:-”
Stacked like molded bread slices,
Decaying bodies release spores
Of death to weary eyed mourners:-
Like an aching bosom’s colloidal tears,
Life sags on, and Sisyphus-like children
Sit under the warrior ghost of lingering hope:
(Indeed, “At this wake…none keep vigil…None:-”)*
*A line from the poem, RECESSION, by Wole Soyinke
Time longer than rope
Chokes hearts dangling
In the reality of struggle:-
Grieving mothers and widows
Veil their grief in sagging bosoms
As they wail in excruciating silence:-
Fragments of men, void of hope,
View and count communal graves
Swelling with dirt burying the dead:-
(Buried are “The Wretched Of The Earth”)
In the neap tides of sorrows,
Mourners wade the airy blood
Of the children of Pilate’s hands:-
In the stale winds of time, “woe is me”
Cries the forsaken land–lamenting scriptures—
Echoing Freneau: “They saw their country’s woe:-”
Stacked like molded bread slices,
Decaying bodies release spores
Of death to weary-eyed mourners:-
Like an aching bosom’s colloidal tears,
Life sags on, and Sisyphus-like children
Sit under the warrior ghost of lingering hope:
(Indeed, “At this wake…none keep vigil…None:-”)*
*A line from the poem, RECESSION, by Wole Soyinka
Errant atoms
Running amok
Colloidal conspiracies
Intertwining
Wandering
Hidden
Behind the opaque
Mysteries
Of their being.
Doom quartz grew into an orb of lilacs,
Colloidal ash colors of a spiny dusk cast.
Bright Atlantic crystal cobalt simply lacks,
Put down that rainbow-chasing. It's too fast.
Dull kohl lawn, drawn by an iron's sad grip,
Such rosy horns ring all across such dark.
This squid's damp oasis on a tropical trip,
Snow squirms as a crimson aroma sparks.
Cotton-soggy lips with abstract inlay,
Chromatic cracks amid a snow-shady iris.
It was a noxious moth, silk-awash lay,
And bright lizards coming in front of gyrus.
Amidst a blissful bluish glow of a moon,
Forlorn daisy aroma in gold artwork soon?
Written January 1st, 2023
Lipogram Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Emile Pinet
It's a world where;
There are Blacks,
And there are Whites-
A chemistry that lacks differences
A fabaceae-
Which spreads across the globe¤
A display of entities;
Baked by the creator's ace
Until,
Until actions cut across reactions;
Leaving a union of separation
(amongst nations)¤
A colloidal suspension;
Where unity-
Is at its melting point,
Evaporating beyond any rating system
I've seen-
Welcomes welcomed by goodbyes¤
Shallow justice;
Dipped into deep injustice¤
Trust blended by betrayal¤
Blames passed like footballs¤
A jar of lies;
Now left ajar-
As falsehood flows,
In the Island of Truth
It's a world where;
The earth is the country,
Of both the blacks and the whites
It's a world of mixtures
Pattern creator weaving through semantic gridlock. Synaptic blockage has me dining on feedback. Consuming concepts of Id's bleeding out a dissociative psychocollage.
No Map No-Thing.
Images overlapping gaps of referential perspective all lapping up my awareness [{that is overclocked thinking thoughts at lightning speed}]
I have Become.
The Lone Madman stripping down the day and rearranging pieces my own way
DreamingDriftingDrowning in a sea of suspended belief. Jumping Juxtaposition! How to navigate such a clash of colloidal moment places?
Negation of orientation is a hidden freedom. In the Disconnect expect a mighty Vertigo; it briefly will swallow YOU leaving only the leafy sensation that is the essence of hollow. Immersion is complete. no more Self memory. No-Thing is concrete. Just a simple drop in the Bucket. This is We. This is dissolution. Attaching Desire and Control on Potentialities is disillusion.
oil and water
(feelings + thoughts)
shake it
drip
drop
oil
shake it
create this colloidal
emotion, I mean, emulsion
drip
drop
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