Leaching Poems

Heavy is The -

Hopelessness encloses, engulfing me,  
As another dismal night drifts in—  
Where the only light is the afterglow of the midnight sun.  
I stand upon crackling ice, breathing in fractals of gelid crystals.  
Soon, the frigid liquid seeps into my bronchi,  
Leaching into an unrepentant bloodstream,  
Chilling a circulatory system already collapsing.  
A single crystallized teardrop spills from a weary eye,  
While blindness claims the other,  
A thick, opaque film covering what was once an ocean-blue iris.  
Unable to speak, my silenced tongue weighs heavy in my mouth.  
Bending on shattering knees, I submerge my hands in drifts of snow.  
A burning intensity shoots up both arms,  
Shocking like lightning through my nervous system—  
Rewinding memories, yet they snap like an old VHS tape,  
Crumbling to dust in this deadening dystopia.  
Sinister snowflakes swirl faster,  
Till I can no longer find a way out.  
Heavy is the plight of a bitter martyr,  
Lost among the frozen lambs I brought to the slaughter.

Free speech U K'

This very year..And today' begins a leaching away ' 
Malign intent has began; a framing' quyeer karma
Will soon be naming.' A raft of dis-reason assembled
Most vainly' for we all saw him plainly.' He claimed to
Humanity.' Free speech was not a novelty.' We have
Had it for many years.' So now it apoears really *****'
That such un-truth was mouthed.' And right in mr Trumps
Right ear.' And right to his face in fact.' I find it most hard to hack!
That there exists an audacity.! To spew such an illitracy?
How much aversion to reality.? Can be tolerable? I fail to see!
That such a man? Should have world status.' Or be? Leader
Of Brittania the scepterd isles, we see..' origin deep; the very
Cauldron of world judicarys.' The seat of much stability.' Allowed to wrap 
Chains of false values and claims based in banal iniquity.' To drag
Such a nation down, and almost to its knees.!

Dirty Hands

Your dirty hands upon me. 
I tremble at the thought. 
Begging let my spirit free. 
The mad militia I have fought. 

Love still binds my heart to you, 
despite the freely dripping blood.
Your presence on a raging coup,
leaching my shell changing blue. 

Ripping the loaded gun so cold 
from your hot and beating hand. 
You tackle me to the floor I fold.
Tis a  miracle I land.

I am one and one with God. 
Through him the hand we have declawed.

Anxiety

Anxiety
A mental condition characterized by excessive apprehensiveness about real or perceived threats
Anxiety is such a fickle thing
It can wrap around my throat like a noose, choking me until I am unable to breathe
Or it can hide in the background, whispering poison thoughts in my ear, tainting every situation with distress and uncertainty
But no matter the form it takes, it never leaves me
My constant companion
An unwilling partnership forged in memories I have lost to time
It has been around in all my biggest moments
There for every low and every high
In every memory, leaching the color from my successes
Darkening the shadows of my failures
Anxiety is the chains that keep me locked in my own mind
Never truly me
I am only the carefully curated picture my anxiety paints, and allows the world to see 
Do I even exist without anxiety?

Where Were You

Where were you?
____the days were dark
abyssal nights
Swallowing my love
when his soul was leaching;
fading into nothing

Where were you?
when he lied on his head,
stood with his tongue
and shed blood;his eyes
Pleading for mercy
in the filthy hands of devii

where was thy Divine power?
__spring of eternal water
for the thirst of soul
when his tongue was dry
Darting in and out
Counting seconds for him
to leave the earth

where were thy eagle eyes?
that watch thy lamb's feet
... ground they step on
and whatsoever comes forth

where were thy sharp ears?
when he was groaning
___deep pains and agony
fighting demonic diseases

where were thy healing hands?
that were not laid on him__
Until he flew away 
like a bird and never returned.
Oh! God where is he....


©MZEE MACH

THE PIPER and HIS TUNES

At the crossroads
The bald old man
With his gray stricken beards
Caressed his antiquated flute
Perching on his cracked dehydrated lips
With his spindly fingers
As he nonchalantly reeled out his tunes
He started with the beautiful tune 
Of the defiant bed bug mercilessly bearing down on the torso
As in a depraved Mamba choke hold 
On it's gasping victim
Next was the leaching lice
Digging, sinking and sucking deeper 
Into it's anemic victim
Then he played ringing in the ears
From renegade mosquitos
Next was a nation, it's people and politics of bitterness
Then he played a reclusive and resigned generation
Deserves the leaders they are saddled with
Next was the tune of the city called Sodom
Then he played the tune of "oh king pharaoh let my people go"
Finally, he graduated to the grand tune of: "he who fails to plan, plans to fail."

From This Earth

From this earth, this dark soul 

leaching to the sea, biding 

in silence beneath the trees, 

and by my calloused hands, 

washed by sighs, fed on the 

drip, drip, drip of need, 

I have wrought a being 

that might yet prove fit to be with 

you.  Come, till the soil of these, 

my parched and stunted roots, 

and let us shoot into the  

green promise of tomorrow.

Morning Reflections

I'm surprised,
this morning the body pain
that is my usual sleeping partner
had melted away.

Strange because I had dreamt
that my eyes were full of blood.
A horrifying nightmare.

Maybe there is something going on
akin to a spiritual leaching;
bad blood drained way
new wine under old skin.

I don't wish to brag though,
the mirror still reflects
a rusty bag of nails
and two bloodshot eyes.

Highz and Lowz

Highs and lows goals and blows
Rocks boulders and stones rough tides 
high waters and storms we stay afloat

Candlelight keeps the fire lit on the boat
With your eyes if competent, visualize no cruise
We on the loose
Sailing, Aboard is a lyrical goat
A smooth sail never made no skilled sailor

Slumdeep ghetto bound
Ghetto bound threading the thread I better fasten my Chuck Taylor's
I can apply lotion to blemishes but to whom and what do I lay blame for these trust issues?
Reserve your courtesy let me weep I don't need a tissue
Prodigy spits hoping all that I say finds a place in your head and sits

It's futile practicing what you preach
When you are leaching, dirty shameful charges you not clean
What you spit is stained
All of it needs bleach
Mouth oozing disrespect things That should reach no ear
Highs and lows goals and blows
Rocks boulders and stones
Rough tides high waters and storms
We stay afloat


Prodigyspits

Winter Walk

That the waves and rocks
find voice here
in the howl of winter,
is because I have come
to listen and to be
in the loneliness of this place.
Only the seagulls are here with me
and hang in the tumult,
taunting the wind.

Deep in this solitude
is the thought
of a drowned youth,
swept away and lost
to the silence sunk far below
the furious sounds that headstone
his name. I am the last
to remember him and reach down,
but he is now beyond my grasp.
I have let him go.

I feel the sting of the salty air
on my face, the cold leaching
through this old coat
and my unsteady feet stumbling
to find balance
on this rubbly ground.
The air shudders with the crash
of nearby breakers.
I cling desperately to the sound.

Lingering Shadows

Your shadow
Haunts me,
My breath grows shallow
As I fall to my knees.

You tear me down
To build me up blindly.
My triggers deafen me,
(Why can’t you hear me?)
Trauma quiets me,
(Throat closed up, can’t breathe.)
Wrap me in your intimacies. 

Memories pour through the seams,
Seeping into my soul,
Leaching the life out of me.
Shadows stealing everything I know,
Leaving me alone and feeling cold.

The thought of you
Ignites my deepest fears.
I looked into your soul,
And I knew.
In that moment your rage
Was all that I could hear.

Darkness consumed me,
Your shadow saw my suffering
And refused to set me free,
Memories left hungering.
Please,
Just leave me be.

Stray Parts Return

When I open an old book
of your images
odd, truncated visions,
gilings clipped from once longer threads,
fall out;
something else,
a partial picture of what we left in each other.

I am modulated by memory,
the slow simmer of a salmagundi’s
long lingering throes and pangs.
There is much more
but the fade-out is leaching
your light away.

Maybe one day
we will catch each other’s breaths,
be bundled together
as close as newborn lambs
in a mutual wool of remembrance.

Uniqueness

To be unique
akin to be safe from from an imitation
though is hard
to be such a claimant
but what good can I not
do to save my life
from leaching or leaking
if it is from a prey
mine is  a culprit
and now it is like a story
but how and how 
can I be blown
though a life of a wishing
but how an imitation
for little or more?.

Rural Nocturn

In the country we see more
when it is the darkest.
Horses shine in the moonlight.
Stars bore holes through infinity.

When a full moon
leaps over the trees
the land ripples
with nocturnal exposures,
things unnoticed in daylight.

After a deep gloom
when nothing glows or shimmers
the dawn can look like a shipwreck,
as if a night sea had crashed
upon sleeping eyes.
Later, daylight struggles up its beach
shaking off a leaching blindness.

In the country,
just one star is enough to see by
we don't need a starfield,
but in the city
just one streetlight
can cast acres of shadow.

In the country
we look up to confirm where we are.
In the city
we look up and wonder if we are lost.

Dreams

Terrible dreams, nightmare hellish screams, tormented minds locked in a dream of unfathomable things of unthinkable things. Terrible dreams of tormented souls with half disfigured faces leaching into the minds of unknowing soul's. What dreams may come into the night probing fiercely into the minds to fright.

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