With an ultra-hard stainless-steel exoskeleton
said to weather any storm
the price alone leaves me cold
in every way shape or form
to describe the Tesla Cybertruck
or so I have heard
in the iconic unpainted silver metal
'origami' is the word
(and 'tsunami' the collective noun
for the vehicle herd)
at least that's how it looks
and said to come in 'any colour'
as long as it's 'nothing'
'puce' is not in the books
A black fly in midwinter
has burgled the warm air of the kitchen.
It struggles for height,
a brittle-winged air-bender
reaching for plateaus,
higher footstools,
grasping for spice shelves
or the slope of a slick cooker hood.
The splutter
of an over-revved engine,
the bolted clicking of insectivore plates.
Up it lifts again
turning like a wounded helicopter
only to crash-land
on a dish of cooling porridge.
Mired, it scoops gravity out
from a clogged exoskeleton
staggers to a porcelain edge.
Heavy airfoils battle a steam laden air.
Its weight now cannot be sustained.
It falls to the hard kitchen floor
spins disorientated on its back.
A dervish dance.
Sibilant thunder-claps
of a now dismantled buzzing.
Will it try again
to lift its wreckage?
Between the paused silence
of a ticking wall-clock
a burnt-out fuselage trembles.
Nothing disembarks.
I almost trod on it
but then my shoe kinda flinched,
one leg hovered in the air
not wanting to feel or hear that sound.
There’s a large dead cricket
belly-up
three steps down on the stoop.
Yellow-green exoskeleton still vibrant
spidery legs stiff and splayed
in the morning sun.
I know body cavities crunch when turning to dust
I have seen the dead still dying away.
I have seen their exhumed bodies.
I’m not stepping on my truth today.
One fine day all our flesh will be healed;
spiritually formed, vibrant,
fully returned to the many colors of love.
Three steps down from the highest stoop
something real good will be true,
for us I reckon.
Crawdaddy, Crawdaddy!
A true tale of woe.
It’s into the boiling
hot water you go.
With spices a-pleasin’
Springtime is the season,
And you’re the real reason
For the beaches, you know.
Crawdaddy, Crawdaddy!
It’s off with the head.
But I’m not a sadist;
You’re already dead!
Crunch exoskeleton,
Split open the tail
For one tasty morsel,
Never does fail!
Crawdaddy, Crawdaddy!
You can’t eat just one;
You’re up to your elbows
Before you are done.
Try as you may,
You won’t get your fill,
But you’ll keep on trying:
A delectable thrill.
An ornamental doe and fawn,
suddenly move. Tails wave, noses nuzzle –
I have mistaken an actuality,
and now am thrown out of my skin.
I’m a millipede of fractal awareness.
I sniff the body-odor of the planet
take inward, then sift out
Australia and Africa.
I pause to dip my face in the River Liffey,
odoriferous waters foam over septum and cranium.
I’m a teaming acre of feelers and heads. Until
an atom of disbelief re-enters its exoskeleton.
The next moment is inevitable;
it is a concrete bunker of inevitability.
I am a stone goblin with a blunt chisel.
Nerve buds are again Saran wrapped.
Oddly, I’m carrying a large red kangaroo
on my shoulders;
it’s demanding to be sent back,
and I would send it back – if I knew how.
After human self-destruction ends the Anthropocene
will creepy crawlers build the Arthropodocene?
With rising levels of CO2 and methane
and temperature rising to profane,
will those of poikilothermic exoskeleton,
be the best Phylum to bet on?
Sun slowly descends the skys
The light is fading, the warmth dissappearing
Standing still, while i go blind
Oblivion slowly swallowing everything.
Every next smile is less sincere
Every next laugh, less enjoyable.
Every next feeling less intence
And every next moment less alive
I look around and see the darkness
I look within and see the emptyness
I hear the distant sounds of the world
Fading away into the nothingness.
Now all the pain is gone
Along with it, everything else
A walking hollow exoskeleton,
I'm dead inside myself
https://m.soundcloud.com/user-921599710/fundamental-frame
The absence of which, who could withstand?
The evolution thereof corresponds with us
Expansion likewise
Enabler of movement, our fundamental support
Protection for such living things
Joints and muscles – we limber on
Muscle contract, muscle relax
A framework within
Exoskeleton outside
So ribs protect – heart and lung surround
Skull protect – shield the brain
Where two or more join, so joints comprise
A fundamental function
A vital role to play
Solid and strong, yet spongy within
Inner bone marrow – tissue living
Small bones of the inner ear
Larger bones increasing gear
Leg bone, arm bone, rendered to walk alone
High bone, thigh bone, ever so required bone
Written by Geraldine Taylor ©
https://m.soundcloud.com/user-921599710/invertebrates-of-the-kingdom
Varied species of the kingdom
Across our earthly home
From sponges to the octopus
Without a backbone
Laying small eggs
Or a centimetre long
Astounding invertebrates
There outer skin is strong
Upon an organism
There they choose to lay
Eggs for a food source
Paralyse their prey
As the insect grows
So rapidly within
A time of which to moult
Remove their outer skin
The expanding colony
Survival of the team
Young bees evolving
From a single queen
Shed their exoskeleton
Insect crawling out
Expansion of their wings
Body drying out
Beginning as larvae
From the eggs they hatch
Dramatic transformation
Metamorphosis match
Written by Geraldine Taylor ©
He moves like a shadow
Stealthy like he was made of it
In one jump he can clear whole meadow
Or a rock of hundred feet
His looks are dreadful yet awesome
His looks fill soul with such terror it’s as if it was set a blaze
He moves and behaves like a phantom
But his agility will amaze
He has exoskeleton protecting him
Like armor of steel
If you see his visage chances of escape are grim
And his shadowy figure his approach will conceal
Is he an alien or a fallen spirit?
Or something else with his strange armor connected to every joint
Many people fear it
Maybe it is unknown itself unknown from every view point
What is the difference between a dream and an obsession? Or can they be the same? They seem to blend in some areas. Dreams can be held inside, while others guess if there's any dream inside the person at all. While shifting to obsession, people see, people know. The dream becomes more obvious, more known, more vulnerable, seen by others and by critiques who gesticulate with all their tiny sharp fingers and knobby knuckles making sounds behind the ear like the cracks of a crunch of an insect's exoskeleton, feeding off the juicy life of the known dream, licking and smiling with all their teeth and flare a perfectly sharp nose because they have never been in a fight. Maybe that's the difference.
I am never alive on a Smile's Journey
That is how I take pictures through views Spritually Presented
The Art through Her Eyes breathes rehabilitation into my wilted assurance
The Sun Shines reflecting perfectly in the Mirror of my Forward Motion
I swim in a sea of never before seen in scenes
that make make me feel a type of Serene
that positively effects the reilluminated sheen
that feels so invigorating, crisp and clean
The Beautification of the Waters Power of Upliftment is like YES!!!!!
in extraordinary snowflakes of Profound Exclamatories.....
She looks Alive in Her Resurrection Sundress,
and She sows the seeds of Light Renewed
Omission and oblivion are relatives of loneliness and misanthropy
Blue and grey are confidantes of depression and its lingering gloom
The blood of the Sky Blue Phoenix drops Tears of Innovative Healing
Life can be the cursive endoskeleton of the exoskeleton of a criminally unsen manuscript
As She Spins Benevolent Renovations in Her Resurrection Sundress.....
Buried in sand, tiny feet
Scrape the clamp of setting stone
Making excursions from leaf to tongue
Hoping this single strand of weather holds
What molds the mounting branch
Feathered on wing-tipped idea
Emerging sinuous
Imagination and suggestive body
Crawling uncouth from molecule to brain
Formative nerves find their counterpart
In seashore settings
Hope burning in molten measure
In a world terrifying
One must make oneself hard
Because if you speak honestly
You will be feathered and tarred
To avoid heresy seekers
You willingly commit sin
Thus every time it's possible
You purposely harden your skin
Time inevitably passes
You feel strong to the core
And all you had to sacrifice
To feel nothing anymore
And that childhood honesty
That warned you of danger
Are now the strangest memories
Of some far away stranger
And those twinges of regret
As if you have lied
Are purged from your thoughts
Because you have arrived
You hear the clank of metal
As they run a diagnostics
It's an exoskeleton upgrade
As they rewire your fiber optics
She's grown fond
of the void lulling around her exoskeleton
She's brought horror to
diligent obtuse slaves
The quiver in her giggle
heeds her cerebellum celebration for the rats that claw at the flesh walls
Jokes on the vermin, jokes on everyone
germ spreader dictates a varied vacation from the norm
the wicked only wither at the hint of a storm
It's in their genes
in between
and all part of "the scene"
a hellish landscape comprised of wooden dolls cradled by gelatin snakes
It's about to forsake the world
She's about to regurgitate the stars over absent bowel syndrome
She's loved and out
sprained by clout
itched severed love cloth
begging for a spout
Brave ones be near her
Sing the strings of cellos wrapped at her ankles
Bring the sins of her meta-skeleton
Drag her through the snow
freeze everything she knows
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