She flew out of a lark's mouth,
she was high in a cloudless sky.
I had a telescope in my mind
and an old VHS video recorder
for my left eye,
my right eye
had already been blinded
by self-winding hummingbirds.
Her apparel was transparent,
her hair was transparent,
her elfin ears were feathered
and those feathers were transparent.
I thought this is going to be hard to capture,
the telescope has had a foggy lens for ages,
and nobody has a VHS recorder anymore.
The skylark started to cough,
falling far on broken wings.
Meanwhile,
the transcendental and translucent
swiftly descended,
as smoothly
a hard-working Mary Madeliene
on a Dollar Store smoke break.
I was slipping forward through a moment
that was entirely transparent.
She dived into my mouth so damn quickly.
Hidden behind my trembling epiglottis,
she began to sing of our love,
a song that got louder and louder
until it was almost (actually) unbearable.
Even so, my outdated recording equipment
had grown far too transparent
to show anyone or provide any tangible evidence
of her invisible existence.
Nevertheless,
I continue to birdwatch on the moon.
Categories:
epiglottis, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Most poems
bite the bones of our restless fingers;
if ignored they may lay grub-sized eggs
under the welcome mat,
eggs that hatch into noxious clouds
within unsuspecting minds.
Best to write down those words
no matter how absurd.
Best to get it all off your chest
before it grows into a 500 pound gorilla.
Do you read your poem out loud
even before the words take form?
Do you make weird sounds
inside your mouth?
Do you rattle your epiglottis
as if it were an apple tree
and you were starving for just one apple?
If so, you must be a poet,
maybe not a good one
but by God you try, and if you annoy -
it you only create noxious clouds
then let them be smoke signs,
signals that you are most passionate
about how original your art smells.
Categories:
epiglottis, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Words get lodged in teeth.
A dental hygienist
has actually extracted a few.
Like bats words hang
from the roof of my mouth,
their subsonic squeaks
jiggle its epiglottis
like a witch doctor’s rattle.
The optometrist wears her glasses
over the bridge of her nose
like intimate lingerie,
she moves in seductively
fishes into my eyes;
her searching is a shadow-dance
on the back of an exposed skull.
Once her bright penlight
stumbled over a word
that should never have been out
on its own.
Immediately, a startled brain
put on thick rubber goggles,
I looked back at her like a deep sea fish,
caught unawares by a naked mermaid.
Categories:
epiglottis, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Words lodge in my teeth.
My dental hygienist
has actually extracted a few.
They hang like bats
from the roof of my mouth.
Their sub-sonic squeaks
jiggle my epiglottis
like a witch doctors rattle.
My optometrist
wears her glasses like lingerie
low on the bridge of her nose.
She fishes into my eyes.
Her searching
a shadow-dance on back of my skull.
Once her bright penlight
stumbled over a word
she had never heard before.
Immediately, my brain
put on thick rubber goggles,
I looked back at her
like a deep sea fish,
caught unawares.
Categories:
epiglottis, poetry,
Form: Free verse
I'm letting out the geek in me
he's on a different frequency,
a freak of nature you must see
feeding you the ecstasy,
I've got a brain far superior
and a pencil case by my side,
a foot that's got bacteria
an athletes foot in my stride,
I could show you my toe
with my in growing nail,
I could blow my nose
or fart out a smell,
H2O on my Epiglottis
stops fluid to my Trachea,
you don't know what that is
absolutely no idea,
Stuck in a Freaky Friday I must
touch Miss Lindsay Lohan's bust,
but then I feel her down below
and all I flipping feel is crust,
See this is the geek in me,
virgin nerdy freaky,
bird is a word, I'm free,
a bumblebee,
flying up high over trees
when I have the right breeze
but if I ever fly out to sea
I'm sure I'd be deceased.
Categories:
epiglottis, hip hop, humorous, rap,
Form: Rhyme
The doctor of reputation agreed to consultation and a physical exam.
He began by saying while I was weighing, “I see you like your ham!”
He checked my reflexes and my solar plexus, everything from bottom to top.
While pulling my ears, and all my running gears, I thought he’d never stop.
He probed for hemorrhoids and body fluid voids as I was busy looking south.
While attending these essentials, I questioned his credentials, when next he checked my mouth!
Looking for a flaw, he said, “Say Ah!” while my mouth was agape.
With his big thumbs, he gouged at my gums. I had no escape.
A fearful moment caught us when my epiglottis gave a waving flip.
When he stopped to linger, I bit down on his finger till he lost his grip.
Regaining his composure, he felt it time for closure as my mouth snapped shut.
Then he explained, telling me straight and plain, while gazing at my gut,
“Son, your longevity is threatened by obesity—we’d better have a chat.”
I said with chagrin, “It’s a good thing I came in. I thought I was just too fat.”
Categories:
epiglottis, anxiety, body, funny,
Form: Rhyme
Stone winds are all in place
Filling entire surreal space
They are as if by divine grace
The mind they have in embrace
By stone winds number soul percolates through abyss
From there it continues to percolate until it reaches final bliss
Where by Goddess she is given a kiss
With cave of elements acting as to mouth of abyss epiglottis
But what if this bizarre percolation
Beyond imagination
Is just an element to next soul’s formation?
And this process continues until it finds per maximal dimension’s location
Categories:
epiglottis, fantasy,
Form: Rhyme