Fireflies in my bourbon
(PART 4 OF 10)
The bar looks haunted today,
Jukebox playing requiems as long songs,
Cigarette smoke suffocating air in between inhalations,A man knows he needs air to fill his lungs.Yet here i am bending knee so you don't leave my lungs ,however I'm gasping for air as if I'm drowning in words such as you are my world.
Your name keep slipping out of my mouth as that last prayer of a man who lived recklessly without care, your eyes are Fireflies I vowed to follow in my darkest hour, however what do I do when the Firefly fell into a glass of bourbon .
Now I'm hankering a place for my staggering feet, for darkness is a firefly now
Every step a scotching flame to remind my soul what happens when a moth flies closer to the light.
Emaciated test-tube mutations
Raised apart in pristine distillations
Conceived in dexedrine celebrations
and the crazed, ecstatic inhalations
of the professor’s choicest pheromones
Right-angled, inverted, and star-spangled
Drained and dangled till their nerves were jangled
Nearly psychedelically strangled
Quantumly, at a distance, entangled
On celestially balanced microphones
Their unproven kaleidoscope harmonics
Haywire mk-ultra histrionics
Phosphoric rhapsodical symphonics
And their backward time-lapse polyphonics
Transcribed on interstellar xylophones
For homunculus scintillations
Splintered, syncopated oscillations
And desperate mute gesticulations
No one beats those galactic sensations
Our own mad-twin Splitzmodic Vibratones
I went down by the river
just the other day
I sat on my favorite granite
as I gently caressed a kyanite
I listened to white rushers
splash against steel grey rocks
I graciously engulfed the refreshing
mist from below
Now,
Deep,
Deep inhalations
Then restorative exhalations
A peaceful calm is found
A radiant ray coyly appeared
through the pines
Now sweet melodies of Georgia
are on my mind
Halt
Pause to
Consider
Every Process
Taking Place Right Now
In Your Body and Brain
You’ll likely be Overwhelmed
Inhalations, Exhalations
Absorptions, Secretions, Digestions
Grief, Ecstasy, Swan-Dives, Hypotheses
Chillax ~ Involuntarily Accept Them
Explorations of cerebral fascination
Devilish ideas' mutated peregrinations
Spirited inhalations of tribal incantations
Torso-twisting through saucy peregrinations
Whilst the grimy sesame toast's torn asunder
Swashbuckling seafarers burble and blunder
Through Deli Yammer's roasted pickle bars de-acidified
n Arm n Hammer's blue-cabbage-power shake de-histified
If you think all this is rather hard to follow
Dr. Fauci's linking it in cuneiform on marshmallow
He remembers his grandmother
sitting next to him on the couch during naptime;
his two-year-old body restless and jumpy.
She would yawn a tremendous open, lion’s mouth
yawn and shake her mane of hair that fell around
her shoulders . . . and he would wait for the roar that never
came. Instead, her measured breath would flow out into
the sigh of the breeze through the trees or the swell
of the ocean - the earth’s inhalations, it seemed.
Years later in Iraq and Iran, as missiles whistled
overhead, the roar of tankers and hard-scrabble
footsteps loud in the night, he puts
himself to sleep
with the memory
of her breathing.
Hungered for a taste
of your essenced elixir,
drunken inhalations
of your French poetry
a splendiferous whirl
of time & space 'tween
darkly scented moons
and sun's adoration,
blithe starry nights
amidst meditative new
dawn's effervesce,
spirited of the heart,
gleaned in the soul,
yearnings of another
chapter's paradise
universal experiences
etched of hourglass sand,
written upon endlessly
chimerical verses
wildflower gardens drenched
of dandelion's plum wine
swooning under a
hypnotic scripted spell,
intoxicating power
of unchained symphonies
dancing amongst skies'
released euphoria
resonating in a song's
reprised melodies,
breathlessness of delirium's
celestial pauses
in vaporous breezes'
unfurling undulation,
captivated by rhythmic
destiny reverberating in
loins' pleasurable calling
quenched of sacred
offering's quell
transcending earthly
persuasions' rhyme,
let me lick the nectar from
your poesy's insatiable lips,
sweet mercy's healing
captured in rapturous
surrender's reawakening ~
You are the crimson surge
I am your crimson desire
The bird radiates a crimson urge
Comes about the sapphire
You vivify the respirations
I deeply breathe your mist
Following the crimson inhalations
Comes about the crimson twist
Thank God that I got the life
And enjoy the crimson strife
___________________________________
July 26, 2016
Not one, three bowls of lovely pomegranates
Look, the passion incarnate
Love or hate as you like, please don't desecrate
Gateway to glorious ecstasy
Of serene sensuality holding supreme creativity
And the all seeing mighty eyes!
Invitation to the abundant festival of inhalations
‘Come, honeycombs are ready
Bees throughout eternity, come and benumb
Come here and swamp the boat’
Under the lavish moon there in the dark lagoon
---------------------------------------------------------------
25 February,2016
Contest: Visualize Scrutinize and Remark
Sponsored by:Forever Malta
There is Nothing to Say About It
There is nothing to say about it
No words to describe it at all
There are no words at all to describe
the mass slaughter of innocents,
the relentless malignant progressions of
the evil black-moving cloud of terminations,
the toxic metastasizing ooze of outright annihilations,
the blood-gurgling regurgitations, and
the blood-spurting decapitations.
There is nothing to say about it.
Nothing to say at all.
No words to describe
the hopeless piercing cries of the infidels
the whimpering terrified pleadings of the condemned
the silent gasping inhalations of the dying
There is nothing to say about it.
No words to describe it at all!
My heart at 62 years has not seen anything like this at all!
Never anything like this at all!
I have not seen this outrageous slaughter before at all!
There is nothing to say, except…
These are the days!
The days of this unkind hour;
the days before the great onslaught!
Before this massive earthly descent to the lowest places,
the smelly dank places,
the rotting miasma of the dead places.
There are no words to describe it!
There is nothing to say at all!
This metaphor breathes
when I awaken
to a dull, gray morning
and the chill of a draft.
The colors of my dreams stir
behind the visions I see
while I shower and dress
to face duties of the day.
My meditation is of breath,
inhalations and exhalations of life
from all parts of me
and all who I am.
I stir to past love
but still a part of me,
the gentle, soulful whispers
of memory.
I am all who I am,
timeless incarnations
given another day.
Tempest tossed along lost dreams
Salted wounds in these tears stream
Flood gates washed about
Drowning amid dimensions latent, further
Within whirlpool, a limbo
Of languages ancient yet, not unknown
Aligning streaks
In saddening ire
Off a cleft
Symbolizing
A drop of broken life
Retire
Randomly inhalations
With raiment chills pillaging
From once atmosphere still
Arbitrary evicting fervent to tepid
Chasing back the last breath of jilts
And grasping out for dear air
Comprehensions of all that is
And never was, really fair
Involuntary reflexes
Merely, flex once more
In captivation of unawares
Thus, stumbles unto a now idle flesh
Of a nucleus without feeling any longer
Redefining the promises
Of the forever there
Unto the being
Organs eternally continue struggling
Among a clutching entrench
They crumble in
Collapse and give
To once, its rhythmic yearning song
Only time, beats stronger on
And soon shall counter part
In beginnings of resolve
All somewhere deep within a broken heart
Thick white clouds
Retracing posture
Atop the layers of earth;
Foggy shrouds of white
Overclouded landscape
Clogging the sunlight
In blurry unclearness.
In brown faded bushes
Lies inhalations of dryness,
Catchy like the gasoline
In simple lit strikes
On matchboxes;
Spreading fierce fires
To four cornered angles
On grassy fields.
From silty bits of soil
Hovers clouds of dust,
Distributed casually
By several printed steps
Of slippers and rotating air.
The echoes of the wind
Screams with concurrent whirl,
Stirring up particles
In fiery harsh voices.
Innermost in the terrain
Glares cracking every way,
As the dryness sucks away
Final surviving drops of moist,
From pores of skin surfaces
And wooden doors.
Thence, in customary shrinking
Of shriveling leaves and bushes
Prowls the reptiles, fleeing away
In untiring searches
For cooler comforting abodes,
Resting forevermore
To the swift slashing cutlass
Of the cautious hunter.
Even sleeping
an aura
burns in rest
slow inhalations
felt warming blood
nearness overwhelms
wicked sensed eyes open
universes traveling
discovered secrets
lay bare
wonderment known
blazed awareness
preceding sleep
stealing my heart away
to dream
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