It’s endless.
The words pour out of bodyless lips; honey oozing onto my burning, sheathed wounds.
Am I what they tell me I am?
The question expands through my membranes, inflating my insides until I detonate with the black of their degradation.
The sugarcoated insults hang in the air.
The sweetness intoxicates my silence until the noise implodes, a deliberate provocation to the vacuum of my consciousness.
I don’t want to be what they tell me I am.
Though, the vast, eternal plea for empathy betrays the feigning, defiant arch of my brow.
The hair follicles echo my hallucination of faith.
I wish for anything but the death of my soul;
A lack of voice.
He allows himself to hover
over his own racing weight.
He recalls the ease
of running effortlessly…dopamine highs.
His toes are earth-pushing landmines,
his elastic ankles are circa 1980’s,
they detonate, they are the thrusters
for rocketing tendons.
His body is as light as his deepest breath,
an endless short-fused burst of energy
sustaining effortless flight.
Then, one night
restless legs push him across
a damp mattress
he is chasing his dog
across a fast-flowing river,
the dog, a running partner
that used to run beside him.
Halfway over fast-moving water
he weakens; begins to flail
as he falls into another eddy of time.
Quizzically, the dog looks back
and sits down to wait
for 30 years,
but he never does catch up.
Unexpressed anger building in momentum
Fireworks and sparks detonate between her ears
Brain literally threatens to explode
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
To touch you,
two souls.
Too much to take.
You took me to the stars,
I took you.
Supernovas
detonate,
synchronized
on impact.
I took you to another place,
you took my hand.
WE GO 2 WAR
- Hughes/Maldonado, FUNK, 2008
--------------------------------------------
War
is just
decision
made in comfort
of palatial rooms
fed by self-interest,
ego, fear, fame, hatred, greed,
not counting cost of destruction
deaths, displacements, disabled lives, loss.
Trifling matter for decision-makers.
How many healthy lives wasted for this?
How many families wiped out clean?
How much money spent to keep up?
detonate, bombard, shell, blast,
decimate, shoot, snipe, spray,
raid, hostage, exchange?
Just red-blood spills
unjust deaths
nothing
else
#Blue_ticked
Feel like I have been locked out from heavens gates, the screaming so internally bloating, my veins turns green, could I be internally bleeding?
I said; I'm fine not immune to pain, please come closer, look clearly, the ruins you have created, my emotions in bruises, maybe I'm susceptible to pain, blame me not for being human
Remove the red tapes, allow me to be, to say and to show. Stop expecting, I'm me not they, don't blue tick me, confront me, force me to break, my body has reached its brim of pretending, of manning up, of being strong, please don't just blue tick,
It's my grave you digging, I'm not ready to die, as of yet, not like the rest, I'm not the rest but me,
Open your heart, listen up, come a little closer, look my direction, I'm here not going anywhere, not going to be silenced, hear the ticking emotional bomb beeping inside me, I'm about to detonate any minute,
please stop blue ticking, just stop forcing to add me to statistics, I'm me not they, I'm I not the rest
Just stop blue ticking me
#Poetic_Ink
True blue, you’re my celestial highway,
a jaw dropping road trip to the Moon;
With just one glance my insides flutter,
I can see a place I’ve never been;
A jaw dropping road trip to the Moon,
my luxurious starship soaring;
I can see a place I’ve never been,
now I can return a million times;
My luxurious starship soaring,
a dance with each of your falling stars;
Now I can return a million times,
in the blurred vision of my teardrops;
A dance with each of your falling stars,
detonate me with that glitter bomb;
In the blurred vision of my teardrops,
frozen wristwatch dust timed for comets;
Detonate me with that glitter bomb,
with just one glance my insides flutter;
Frozen wristwatch dust timed for comets;
True blue, you’re my celestial highway.
Need some solid ground, can’t afford the cement
The view is a bit blurry, need to defragment
Write it all down, and be sure to document
Everything is out of place, I need to find a better arrangement
I’m sitting passenger but the driver is absent
No time to react, need to circumvent
Stop looking into the past to understand the present
Grab the wheel before there’s an accident
Spinning out of control, it’s too late
I dreamt this to be my fate
Thoughts I can’t keep straight
Making it hard to concentrate
I self-sabotage and deprecate
While trying to communicate
Waiting for it all to escalate
Knowing traps are waiting to detonate
I turned to alchemy when nothing else fit
Now I've learned to live with it
I don't think I can ever quit
That's what I have to admit
He slept for sixty years
then woke up with a start
For the life of him
he couldn’t tell things apart
Ghettos still all filled with blacks
War everywhere he turned
Young folks rioting in the streets
Property looted and burned
World ‘leaders’ puffing out their chests
threatening to detonate
Nuclear arsenals built to the hilt …
Make love, but don’t procreate …
So, the sleeper saw a doctor
and told him all his troubles
Doctor said, “Your eye exam
reveals you’re seeing double”
So
fashioned with
intrepidation;
I’m a strawberry time bomb;
Wound
up;
Unstable means go harder;
Gunpowder in hand
detonate
doors.
He allows himself to hover
over his own flying weight.
He recalls the ease
of running effortlessly…the dopamine highs.
His toes are earth-pushing landmines,
his elastic ankles are circa 1980’s,
they detonate and thrust vibrant tendons.
Tonight restless legs push him across
a damp mattress -
and he still running after
a running dream.
His boredom conquered discipline again;
a bridge thus built has no one else to blame.
A blazing dumpster fire bloomed from within,
like breathing, birth unnoticed when it came.
Audacious that a button made of cork
might detonate and on his soul impinge.
Believe not blood, instead apply the torque,
and so begins another drinking binge.
——————
Thought I’d try to use all the B words to describe one…
Could I, should I, and may I?
You are my poetry. I am in love with his present, that my future longs for.
My poetry is you, pale love.
Your giddy eyes mesmerize me, your plump lips catch my attention, and your charm and sweetness entice me to approach you, but your disposition begs me to stay with you. Your hugs and smiles make me happy. My heart feels like a nuclear bomb might detonate when I touch you.
Could I, should I, or may I?
Even though it is nighttime, light displays remain motionless against the rain.
However, as we play around, Your lips begin to flow within mine, and mine begin to flow within yours.
But the rain continues to fall
However, you've forced me to see love as painful even though it's also fascinating. You've made me crush my love like an elephant tramples an ant, you've normalized pain while making love seem strange to me. Even though it shocks me when I see it, and you've forced me to question my identity even whilst forcing me to discover it.
What is intended for you is the will to act.
What is wished for you is a passion for care.
What I wanted for you was to understand my love.
In the deaf woods of curious willows
lies stalwart beliefs of days bygone.
Retribution, restitution, resolution
resolve, beginning our journey.
Blinded by bewares of sours ungifted
lost constitutions coagulate.
Lamenting gargoyles grin in reside.
The lost, given to hateful
brawls detonate heaven and earth.
Solemn potentials greet our solice of
batteredin-betweens. Spores of negativity
parade the sovereign coming storm.
Holy mountains of Nosfreatu thoughts
reek of broken lenses of scum
serpents, a continuous path to an
Event Horizon, a culture of patterned
violence to dog days of uncoiled reckoning.
Leviathan pipe dreams of nauseating
Oblivion, casts a universal dark shadow
How many tears to reflection?
Slumbering woods bloom
under beetle plowed pulp.
Up above,
the canopy is bare,
and sheds only white zero’s.
Beetles hum beneath the rot,
detonate inaudible chitinous chimes,
troglodyte tones
under a dormant mulch.
Everywhere,
ambiguity buds open and close
in a subterranean flurry.
When the ice breaks its quash and quell,
they surface
round and gleaming
to chase new laid morsels down;
their feeding
turning earth for the seeding sun.
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