the witch was a magician, her legs and arms were contorted
her cat, her broom and her body were all a little distorted
she was lopsided, asymmetrical, weird in kind of a good way
I tried to draw her, but she would not stay still that day
Contorted and distorted, Poindexter lollygagged in the sun.
Owners tried not to watch until he was completely done.
Twisted into a variety of cat shapes, although he was one.
He did not move for an hour after he found a position of fun.
How can he be this relaxed? The man of the house asked his Missus.
I do not know, but he is so hairy, I am not giving him kisses.
I know what you mean, I found his hair on my toothbrush today.
I hope you put it up high, she replied, where the tooth fairies stay.
They laughed at their life and they laughed at their flexible cat.
They had a fine life, where a cat could be contorted like that.
He looks so comfy, should we try this position? Asked the wife.
You go ahead, her husband replied. I feel I already have a great life.
Let's say we have capitulated
yes, let's say we have succumbed
to their whimsical naivété and inane wisdom
Let us assume that it is all phoney
that it is a bogus hoax-filled folklore
We shall now pretend that we have been beguiled by such marvelous
exercise of ludicrous folly
Such bombardment of contorted philosophy
But in our gullibility we shall yet ask
in sheepish inquisition and meek certainty
if this course so pitiably slandered be nothing but deceit,
why then does it stand conspicuously so therapeutic?
why has it made men
who traversed through the impossible vortex of
reality's odd challenges?
why has it given Invigoration with hope
the haggard Destitute?
Why has it restored green to those fallen human twigs
Why has it steadied nerves and halted addictions?
Why has it healed the sick and made disappear tumults?
Why has it prognosticated that which we now perceive
Does nothingness do that
Does nothingness tender an insight so revealing,
So infinite.
Does nothingness and baseless belief
deliver from the vague labyrinth of man's ordination
if these be true
Who then doubt's the veracity
Why then disprove religion
Too fiery breathing at point zero oh so it seems
baked I feel roasted my heart to blink once and out goes day
my knight and shining armour words bleed out of my mouth pouring like angry fumes of a festered wound
I ran a little too fast
I walked a little too slow
the ground knows me well
on it I lay me to count the passing of tear
to water me a shoot of love
lay me down to sleep dangling in the mist of air
written "I was there....contorted heart"
I was there!!
On the contorted back
Of Africa in tearful neglect
Based buttocks
The stoic, obese and always full
Of odd appetites
Pain in the back
Of Africa in tears
Centuries are mange
Here and there, scattered
Oh God, I deplore:
- I got tired of this shame!
Contorted River – Haiku
broke branch lost its tree
on hysterical currents
winding, collecting
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