Long Asphyxiated Poems
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No one is watching on but you,
Arrested in the familiar and unfamiliar images,
Getting to know the stranger you have been avoiding…
The one that no one understands but yourself…
Who knows how they appear to you?
But they do,
And your heart COLLIDES with several emotions,
Brewing in the soup of your every being,
Listening…tasting…smelling…feeling…seeing,
Crippled and yet whole with the picture before you…
You are seeing your favorite people and your enemies,
The LIES you have told…the ANGER you had with them…
The desire SPUES outwards…
You are now asphyxiated with happiness…
Your favorites are leading you on towards a beautiful, visual memory!
It is so simple,
And yet it is captured in complex detail on this projection in the sky…
SEE ME—cries your heart…shivering…SEE. ME.
The spine tingles to the haunting melody that the dialogue provides…
Your defenses are so low now that you are completely exposed to every memory you have locked up or sold…
They are coming back vividly—in silver and GOLD!
And the blasting fires of coldness can NEVER melt them down!
Softly,
You nod as the projection flickers,
As your all-too-familiars,
Your hobbies…favorite foods, people—falling down the skies like raindrops,
Flow straight into your cold exposure,
WARMING you—it feels so good…
You feel RIGHT…because you are…
Conclusions are merely introductions,
So put on the guts, the blood, the skin…
Underneath it all you are pure beauty within,
Designed to fulfill something greater than you can ever imagine,
Designed to master, though inclined to KILL…
Your purpose is never clearer,
When at the end of the movie—a revelation is forming…FORMING!
Your skull closes like two iron doors,
Closing in all of the closures…all of the unrevealed…
And looking forward—through emotions evermore,
ALWAYS looking forward,
And reflecting upon your new…
FRIEND.
Oklahoma City Bombing
25th anniversary
9:02
April 19, 1995
April 19, 2020
Written: By Tom Wright
I only hear the silence as I stride,
twixt granite chairs neatly set in rows.
The 168 chairs epitomize each life,
now neath a sea of grass that grows.
Today my psyche visits this place,
albeit, here, their Spirits do not rest.
However, a Monument and Reflection pool,
usher memories, as if at their behest.
Still I visualize a chain link fence,
with images, blossoms, pandas and such.
A transitory memorial that reaches out,
to asphyxiated lives, as if to touch.
For certain, I dare not challenge,
the eternal rest, of those who sleep.
But pausing at each chair, in silence,
I recall this day's events and weep.
I would to God, that casualties,
could discern today, my thoughts about.
Then from the quiescence of this place,
would emerge an angelic shout.
For I tire of silence.
**Content warning: depicts abuse (please skip to one of my more lightheaded poems if one needs to).
To you, your abuse began as a game or joke,
so insidious, so quietly inhumane,
a spontaneous, cautionary tale, and yet,
so quickly it transpired into something much more.
Church was unsafe, school was unsafe, and finally -
you made my last safety net, my home - a prison.
I had just turned five, the first time you wrapped your hands
around my throat, and thrust your thumbs through my windpipe.
The weight of both your knees crushed my infantile chest,
so I couldn't possibly, even gasp, for air.
I squirmed, a silent whimper, and tried to break free,
but I was only five, and you were thirty-eight.
Your whole body was like a boulder upon me.
My eyes weeped, and I tried to beg, but had no breath.
My small hands weren't enough to get you off my throat,
and in the end, despite my effort, I'd pass out.
And to you then, I was your lifeless figurine,
your sick play-thing, your ragdoll, your real-life puppet.
Then awake some moments later, gasping for air,
the nightmare continued, with hands around my neck,
until I was so asphyxiated - I shook.
As I lost air, I'd break out into a cold sweat,
my vision blurred and hazy, my voice laboured, coarse.
I would lay there confused, dazed, scared, broken, alone.
When I next awoke, oft a necktie held my hands,
and like clockwork, you'd seethe, spit condescending tones,
shout obscenities, lies, curses - unbeguiling.
Whilst your hands again, found themselves glued to my neck,
suffocating me over and over and over and o'er,
whilst all my dreary eyes, through tears, saw was 'father'.
And, as if my father had not yet been depraved,
he'd oft strip me, of all remaining dignity.
Then once his hours accomplished, his anger unleashed,
he'd leave me unconscious, half-naked, on the floor.
He'd wipe his bloody hands clean and feel 'job well done',
and ensure to lock the bolts on that bedroom door.
09.03.2024
I wandered the desert alone, oh, what a dream to remember!
'Twas a place of extremes. Gorgeous yet frightening. A swelteringly hot
Barren terra incognita that stretched far beyond the horizon.
I walked for miles and miles; feeling more lost by the hour,
I turned, following my footprints back to civilization.
But unbeknownst to me, a sandstorm roared, erasing footprints I made earlier.
Staggering, fighting my fatigued body and moribund spirit, I paused briefly,
Barely standing upright, with arms akimbo trying to catch my breath.
"Where am I?", I wondered in a panic. Sweat streaming down my
brow, I continued traversing the never-ending stretch of desolate wasteland.
The chances of finding my way out of this vast sea of sand, improbable.
"Is this how it all ends? How will I make it out here alive?"
I asked myself, drowning in an ocean of pessimism. Thoughts in my head
Dark and morbid. I'm lost. A nightmare come true! The chances for a rescue
In this unforgiving no man's land couldn't seem more unlikely.
An oasis, a needle in the haystack. I'm increasingly asphyxiated by thirst.
Before long, I chanced upon a tree trunk still standing tall, frozen in time.
I took shade on its shadow across the sand, defeated, begging God
For a quick end to my misery. Instead, heavens opened up, and down came
The rain. An augury of hope...my salvation! Oh, what a dream to remember!
Date written and posted: 10/02/2018
Dr. Goo Goo lives in the clouds with God
Follow his instructions to the T when sick
Take two aspirin and call him in the morning
Right now is good. Never is even better
Fevers come with a cough and a quack
Not all doctors are created equal
Some live under rocks or bridges
Deliver babies when not playing golf
Goo Goo wears a mask at Sunday services
Performs surgery on high wires at circuses
Sports the letter G on white pajamas
As a reminder; Who is God and who is not
Surgery on tightropes, scalpel between the teeth
Comes easy with his degrees of certain certainty
With expertise he keeps patients in stitches
But do not laugh when asphyxiated
When the doctor falls do not applaud
Audiences should stay in their seats
For no particular reason
Safety nets and parachutes get lost
Dr. Goo Goo fixes us before we go wrong
Before we return back to ash and dust
From that stuff, primordial goo called humans
Who come with medical and dental plans included
The just cause was lost in the fog of war
A red line perceived but never crossed
The idea was to build a nation not graves
Smoke from bombs, chemicals released
Mingled with the fumes of hopelessness
Dissipated with lost limbs and logic
In Syria chemicals were spread on babies yesterday
Left asphyxiated without a bed, left in a blanket of death
This is what was said
Reporters say everything is fine
Religions say God is on our side
Politicians say election day is soon
No one will tuck in the child tomorrow
To say everything is all right today
To read fairy tales to them about dragons
There will be no more stories to tell with no one around
Corners destroyed, blurred lines, no boundaries
If the war goes on
Anesthetized, day one, I become her bug caught in the web
Asphyxiated, entangled and cursed, numbed to feel no pain
It was a Wednesday if I remember when we wed
She grew a beard and punished me for breathing
I succumbed to her femininity, her tooth
It was a pretty one to chew with. That's the truth!
It was a Thursday in the second day of Lent
It took seconds for my bank account to empty
Her power of persuasion left me blank
A testament to her awesome empty nest to come
Three days into marriage we finally went to bed
Precious consumed my brain and everything within it
Who needs condoms when you have your condiments
Mustard , ketchup, cheese and crackers please
When you don't have long to live you snack instead
Day four, she put me on a lease to walk outdoors
Dogs and cats make better pets than spiders
Sentimental to the end she took my soul and sold it
I succumb to her because she is my wife
Not because she held a butcher knife
By day five she grew fat, sprang eight legs
Became a nag, that's only natural they say
I'm not afraid of anything that screams at me
Because she says so
I wish six days a week to be united
Or at least to live another day intact
It is not wise to question honey's facts
Seven days in love must be our lucky number
Marital bliss numbs me to my knees
I survived to kiss the bride another day
It must be time to say Good Bye.........
Eight days a week I feel the love inside
Eight legs wrapped around my spine
A tingling sensation, sentimental spider
Before I die, before you eat my mind again my love
The alimony check is on the table, post dated for your pleasure
Don't get pregnant. Use protection
For your convenience before I forget
I will always be your prey before your friend
I pray you don't get indigestion
crushed at rock bottom he gathered the fragments of descent
slow motion agony that started at a plateau of deluded deceit
free falling sadness spiraling out of control beyond fast repair
the black dog on his shoulder had survived the fall and barked
another round of sadness an insurmountable sorrow cheered on
‘you are useless and even void and oblivion are having a laugh’
a tunnel with no light and the canary asphyxiated in the mine shaft
another panic attack unable to ease the landing of a scarred mind
scared and confused he gathered the pieces and stabbing shards
with broken bones and un-abating accusations he collected his guilt
fears and shame about yet another defeat at the foundation of evil
demons and miserable clairvoyants spoke in bifurcated obsessions
possessed by the mother of all depressions he reached for a glimmer
of hope he searched for a message from science deities and reason
yet unable to guide his emotions all efforts crashed without rescue
the rope had twisted once more and he dangled helpless face down
just enough slack to disfigure his angry face that featured disgust
and yet as the blood flooded his brain he surrendered his objections
one final attempt and he severed the noose with the open fracture of
the razor sharp dislocation sticking out just below the palm of his hand
with a further snap of his wrist and life line he surrendered lost dreams
if life gave you hemlock but the vessel had cracked on the impact
of the smash and grab of lifeless cycle of disassociated insanity he
resolved to drink his own blood and call upon autoimmune response
after all the medication had been useless and hours on Freud’s couch
had only imprinted more festering pressure sores on purulent skin
cognitive explorations had only dragged him further down self-denial
religion mantras and science had failed to invoke sanity and healing
levitation would not emerge when he fell from the edge of madness
the cross lay in pieces and nails had lacerated his heart and resolve
just when he felt the pulse getting weaker and with delirious gaze
he succumbed to a last ditch attempt to reassemble a piece of his soul
wrote an ultimate will on the wall and vowed to hand over let go and live
15th June 2020
Some one must have traduced the media
Sucked the oxygen from the room like thieves
Stolen along with logic and what is breathable
Available to the enemy of the state's hyenas
Some heinous fiend absconded in the crime
With their debate and valuable broadcast time
Odious, odorless, right there on color TV screens
Elephants in the big room too evaporated
Became invisible at the thought of Trump
Hate takes to the airwaves out of whack
A liberal press fires back asphyxiated
Inhabitants of their god like minds deflated
Take a deep breath for four more years of that
Babies turn blue too from oxygen deprivation
Some tantrums stop with diaper changes
In an imagined Aryan nation of empty space
THE UNCOVERED ....
Blunders draped in bundles
of clandestine regalia
Passing each aurora, simmers
obnoxious guilty flames
Seized are its weapons
Silenced is its voice
Water-tight , to the exterior,
Access denied....
Conscience asphyxiated
Stupor it lay , simmering flame
deep inside......
The glittery outside
Embezzlement fills treasures
Tactfully guzzles glorious peace
Marbles conceal the blood
Glitter tantalizing the inner peace
Constellation of cromulent folk!
Tantamount to a golden knife
Sagacious choices crushed,
pulverised under heels
Brushes of pseudo smiles paint
the phoney pictures!
Remorse has gone to retreat
Armageddon struck...
Raging guilt, rising conscience
War they wage as they dare a battle
Before they fall and fade
Muster all might, they burn
Cellars melt to molten
Huge uproar and war cry
Burning splinters!
Cinders remain .....,
as unmasked truth!
© Anulaxmi Nayak, 2015