Long Crawling with Poems
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not in the heart again
for chrissakes it's like Swiss cheese
decoffinated please I'm a yet ambulatory zombie
off his medication as usual
alternatives to logic 101 with Prof. Spike
far too much work for a dead end
saw his only ally the embalmers needle
left his innards spilled in the sand
history in its entirety mocked his comprehension
had the nation in tears and then nausea
several dueling scars graced his genitals
if our perceptions already lie
why shouldn't we
I had to laugh
it was all I could do to keep from smiling
even after a thousand years of AI research
the electronic government was helpless
my Microsoft forehead radiator
absolutely charmingly couldn't get any focus
but the Royal Society of Blind Philosophers
helped me with my little problem
a miracle of recipe repair
because our endorphin soup is a bit thin
the quicksilver cooks ate first and fell asleep
having thrown away their brains long before
in the field kitchen of the gods
after the air raid sirens of postmodernity
can there be too much truth
for an army of blood diamond merchants
now a bit more about para electrics
if only I were at liberty to discuss it
yes imprecision can carry signal
but the place is crawling with dilettantes
wearing their secret butt plugs
it's a guessing game as you can see
petitioning for a visually diagrammatic idiom
although it's a devilish seesaw but let us restart
The Oblivion Ride was the big theme park attraction
my extended family was in the sideshow
justifiably taken for a pack of fools
then the sun went down and never came up again
and we stepped into the stone circle
chanting evidence is preferable
to the moonlit tombstone
good luck with that in your airwaves
broadcast on radio Sarajevo
signal drifting drifting drifting
with minds great and small
and smaller and smaller
the Internet is the yearned for Messiah
there it's done and out and not to be unseen
you wrestle with it while I proceed
dashing among startled commuters
mesmerizing the fact finding committee
their dictatorship of x-ray leeches
tossed him out of several monasteries
apparently the production quotas were relaxed
in a kaleidoscope of normalcy
the style crazed mannerist martinets
howdy do nail in my shoe
From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/
You know, it is rather difficult to discuss mental health
The simile of the racing thoughts is a swift flight
Swift, and Intrepid like an Arabian horse,
Sometimes, too hard to decipher, even.
I face the past,
and I talk.
and I keep talking about many, many issues
And you heard me there, silently.
Then, you whispered into my ears, “Un the lib.”
Did you utter the word, “Un the lib?”
Or, was it a call for another scapegoat,
with the name Andalib?
My understanding is getting clouded, and clouded enough.
Vulnerably, and abnormally.
But there is no problem.
Neighborhood concept runs into such difficulties, these days.
They are yawning and dribbling in so many places,
chilling effects...
With the metaphor of a prophetic narration
with so many broken chains, harder to trace even.
Understanding.
It whittles down to an empty bottle of pickles, decisively.
Never tried to forget “Un the lib” though,
Never tried too hard to break free, nonetheless.
Word abandons me along the way, cult of own whims too.
Let us come to the points,
Closer enough to the bullet points,
A poet’s life, bohemian, unpredictable
A very fine line to decipher between irrationality, insanity
Nothing more than this. Just this.
“Hallo, microphone testing, one, two, three, hallo?”
Nothing more than that,
not even a one liner.
Please do return to your beloved dream.
Find your imagination in your beautiful enigmatic lover
You may fetch her, even from the farthest corner of a poem
And, please be sure that you may.
And you may do so, for me
On and on.
Is it too much of a task?
I saw you both, together, already.
Wandering around, streets imprinted you both.
Footsteps.
Muddy constellations.
Guided me through. Meticulous coldness.
May I perceive it
as a stigma?
As a cliché?
As a bubbly snow? Whistleblower?
crawling with the irrationality to linger more?
Perhaps, just so, because,
it never served me enough.
Or are there anything?
To digress with any of these?
Yes, it is better that way
Do return, please do so, earnestly.
And lame excuses are in abundance,
It will find me too, sooner or later, anyhow.
“Un the Lib,”
how far are you there, with your two cents?
Parched and dry, this barren field stretches,
I wander, head hung low,
staring at the emptiness eclipsing my thoughts
Brittle blades of grass disappear beneath
my worn out sneakers,
black and white crushing beige
in slow fashioned footprints of blistered dust
“My sanity for some cool water”
When upon my shoulders, reddened by solar intensity,
wet from exerted energy, comes a breeze
as if Autumn has come to claim her colors,
to gather her brown and sepia landscape,
pull the lifeless trees, with little leaf
from the chalk textured ground taking it
where it would suit another, for this is my luck
"Take my shade I beg not, for it is merely a branch”
Like fingers of a silken web’s reach,
a soft caress of skin is not understood, though very pleasant
Nature finds me a shiver, a small comfort in this arid place
once crawling with snakes of assorted length, now
green as if lush has just been defined
with sweet air and pomegranate skies featuring a glow,
pristine shades of which I’ve never seen, heavenly
“To whom might I thank for such a gift?”
When before me stands, my eyes saturated and lost
slowly focus on beauty, winged loveliness now smiling within my own
personal oasis, which quickly forms in my heart
An angel, a goddess, extends a hand to me?
My cracked and weathered palm touches, smooth, gentle
her hand as she lifts me, I am weightless, floating
to her, my breath leaves me as I wonder, is this my end?
“If this beauty shall be my final curtain, let it be dropped slowly”
A voice of velvet speaks, as I fade in and out of reality,
now steadied by her touch and the sweet scent of lavender and lime
“I have come to you as a verse, for poetry is thy keeper,
thy words have been heard,” lyrical this voice sings
melodic and harmonious, a rhythm to the beat of my heart,
the race of my pulse, the love of my life, my muse, my all
“Eternal to you I shall write, for your beauty fuels my pen”
*I feel this poem speaks of poetry, the reason we are all here. To find and share our muse, to be inspired and grow together in poetry. It also was a step out of my comfort zone for me as this was an early write of mine where I tried a few new ideas.
ELEGY WRITTEN ON THE DEATH
OF A PARAMOUR
How many faces shroud
A paramour ?
One, two, more!
He was vibrant
Man hood with veins and vines
Gushing passion
Historicity
Genetic thread bestowed
Chewing wild passions
Bit by bit
Anaconda devouring tender deer
Deliciously.
Adolescent love
Infatuations
Treacherous;
And on by virtue of wedlock
Sheer arrogance,
Sharpeníd tongue and horns.
Denial of dreams, reasons justified
Each oneís lot.
Man of wild dreams
Libranís aggressive lust
For love, shattered
Red ants sting-
Day by day
84
Rail Roads
Night by night
He became as thin as a lightning,
Tearing sky apart, frozen feelings
Solidified.
Exotic was the fragrance
Stealthed on wings of wind
Hurling, in a dead manís dream.
He moved to the nucleus, entranced
Of enchanting field of invocation
Furtive sleep walker
Knapsack of burning flesh.
A chamber full of dew and mist
Sorcery of the fairy
Entwining tentacles
Combusting love and flesh
Penurious.
Fury of lust and love
Splashing lava of volcano
Dizziness, once fallen
Door for deliverance doomed.
Lascivious serpent dance
Sucking in, inhaling, exhuming
Chewing marrow with life sap.
Guilt and dirt on body and soul
Sunk deep and deep
In the marshy land
Fallen, fallen deep,
Heaviness, molten lead on mind
Tender soul forewarned
85
Samson J. Koladi
Good angel, bad angel
Ludicrous demarcations
Relative and receptive
Rationalising
Swore his plight
Furrowed, lay on his back,
Losing all he kept close.
Like dawn downed
Came dusk, night
Accompanied by night angels
Came the Saviour
In the trance hour
Flickering tongue
Crawling with ease
Fang, needle teeth,
Curious at the hollow man
Merciful enough to exonerate
Mantle of skin pierced, spitting venom
Sacrificial Homa over
Crept back to darkness.
In the hour of Death
Paramour smiled, he weptÖ..
Whirlpools of dreams, love and sweat.
Next day,
In broad day light,
86
Rail Roads
All saw the paramour
Lying on the causeway,
Like a serpentís hood
Disrobed
Bluish body numb
As cold as Death,
Blue Lotus.
Paramour met predicament
With neither fear nor sulleness.
Silent river of Time flowing
Poor soul rests in turbulence
Hailstorm and fire.
A season of storms we weathered
Fought against the waves of rain
Tried to build our own shelter
With what we had left
Scattered all around us
Only for it to be blown away
Leaving us naked
Exposed to the elements
Shivering from being soaked
We could feel it in our bones
Weary and worn
Our spirits beat down
Finding no relief
We began to seek escape
In all the wrong places
Only to travel in circles
With no direction
But we kept trudging through the mud
Against the relentless wind
Losing sight of the plans laid out for us
Losing sight of what we held close to our hearts
Only looking at what we lost
Losing the sense to fight
Until we were neck deep
Until we were drained
Until we had nothing left in us
Until it seemed all hope was gone
Of escaping this never ending season
Solid ground was nowhere in sight
Our knees buckled and we fell
Crawling with every last thing we had in us
Until we collapsed
The fight was over
Laying there realizing
What we were losing
That we gave it our all
Fought with all our might
But that we could no longer continue
This seemingly never ending battle
Our vision had become cloudy
We lost our way
We lost everything so dear
Raining pelting down on us
Mixing with our tears
Unable to hear our sobs
Unable to hear our hearts break
Over the roar of the thunder
We done all we could do on our own
The only place to look is up now
Look to the heavens
To see a break in the clouds
A ray of sunshine beams through
As the last drop of rain falls
Glistening like a diamond
We are bathed in light and warmth
Relief washing over us
A single ray of hope
Beckoning us
As the clouds roll away
Seeing the beauty
All around us
That was always there
Masked by a season of storms
Trying to survive them on our own
Instead of seeking The Shelter in the storm
We find the strength to stand
Embracing each other desperately
Realizing what we almost lost
Crying tears of joy
Something happened inside of us
Our eyes were opened
Our hearts softened
Filled with hope
Neither has felt before
Hand in hand
We began to walk in the direction of the Light
I feel so strange these days
Hollow
Disembowelled
As if the core of me had been ripped out by invisible hands
And scattered to the wind like desert dust
I am like a ghost
I drift – wraith-like – through the perpetual days
My skin crawling with each brief touch of sunlight
My eyes shrinking from the gilded glare
I feel safest in darkness
I love to sink my fragile body into the misty arms of night
And let her caress my battered soul to sleep
I am too tired to face the world
I may glimpse at it now and then from my battlemented window
A hasty glance is quite enough
It’s such a frightening place for a quivering mouse like me
There are so many holes and dark spaces
Cracks in the woodwork through which I could fall
And beneath it all a hazy underworld of debauchery and corruption…
Waiting to snatch a young pallid woman
And swallow her entirely whole
No I shrink from such a fate
I turn my face towards the moon instead
Tilting my cheek to receive her whispering quicksilver kiss
She hovers far above me like a motherly goddess
Always keeping her eye on me
She is the keeper of my world and the guardian of my life
I adore her as I adore my realm of shifting shadows and gentle moonbeams
Like a jungle cat I pad confidently down the corridors of night
Protected – sheltered – encouraged
But alas I cannot linger here forever
The bold brusque hands of Daylight are hammering at the doors
Pounding with a merciless insistence
The world wants my fleshly sacrifice
It has stalked me patiently all these years
A sinuous tawny lion of sunlight and flame and bright hard reality
I know deep down in my heart of heart’s that I can’t evade him much longer
The foundations of my twilight world are slowly but surely crumbling
Chinks of light are flooding in at the seams
Outside I can hear the rasping voice of Fate herself
Sometimes she speaks soft and low
Like a mother to her babe
Sometimes she shouts
An angry Medusa
But every time the words are the same –
She’s calling out my name…
`
Parched and dry, this barren field stretches,
I wander, head hung low,
staring at the emptiness eclipsing my thoughts
Brittle blades of grass disappear beneath
my worn out sneakers,
black and white crushing beige
in slow fashioned footprints of blistered dust
“My sanity for some cool water”
When upon my shoulders, reddened by solar intensity,
wet from exerted energy, comes a breeze
as if Autumn has come to claim her colors,
to gather her brown and sepia landscape,
pull the lifeless trees, with little leaf
from the chalk textured ground taking it
where it would suit another, for this is my luck
"Take my shade I beg not, for it is merely a branch”
Like fingers of a silken web’s reach,
a soft caress of skin is not understood, though very pleasant
Nature finds me a shiver, a small comfort in this arid place
once crawling with snakes of assorted length, now
green as if lush has just been defined
with sweet air and pomegranate skies featuring a glow,
pristine shades of which I’ve never seen, heavenly
“To whom might I thank for such a gift?”
When before me stands, my eyes saturated and lost
slowly focus on beauty, winged loveliness now smiling within my own
personal oasis, which quickly forms in my heart
An angel, a goddess, extends a hand to me?
My cracked and weathered palm touches, smooth, gentle
her hand as she lifts me, I am weightless, floating
to her, my breath leaves me as I wonder, is this my end?
“If this beauty shall be my final curtain, let it be dropped slowly”
A voice of velvet speaks, as I fade in and out of reality,
now steadied by her touch and the sweet scent of lavender and lime
“I have come to you as a verse, for poetry is thy keeper,
thy words have been heard,” lyrical this voice sings
melodic and harmonious, a rhythm to the beat of my heart,
the race of my pulse, the love of my life, my muse, my all
“Eternal to you I shall write, for your beauty fuels my pen”
You, who are so perfect in my eyes, so beautiful- adorable, and I, so flawed, ugly, damaged and crawling with defects; why do you enjoy my company?
You, who are so sleek and slender, humming with a quiet intellect and a serenity about you, and I, so grossly overweight and pretentiously boastful and nervous; how can you abide my company?
You, who are a paragon of patience, so understanding and self-assured, and I, so insanely impulsive, so myopic and brimming with self-doubt; how do you stand my company?
You, who are so sweet, so considerably kind, so thoughtful and generous, and I, so bitter, so selfish, so self-absorbed; why do you choose my company?
You, who are so self-composed, full of self-control, so sound and stable, and I, so very neurotic, so completely compulsive and verily volatile; how can you tolerate my company?
You, who are so diligent, so driven and ambitious, so achieving, and I, so lackadaisically lazy, so uninspired, so complacent; why do you settle for my company?
You, who are ethical, so moral, so very virtuous, and I, so corrupt, so unprincipled, so wholly wicked; how can you endure my company?
You, who are so normal, so well-adjusted, so conventional, and I, so maniacal, so unbalanced and irrational; why do you condone my company?
You, who are bubbling with charm, who loves unconditionally and is absolutely accepting, and I, boiling with rage, fueled by misanthropy and incredibly intolerant; how can you welcome my company?
That you love and accept me for who and what I am, is a treasure beyond measure. I cherish your company, but why you cherish mine is something I cannot fathom. All I know is that I love you, my dear, beloved friend.
**This was written for two very dear friends: Karen and Tommy :)
***I also love palindromes ;)
*****FREE VERSE OLD AND NEW ENTRY
In Ankara and Moscow,
the ground is crimson red ~
a carpet spread on fields once green.
Life’s fluid, like red gold,
flows as scarlet runoffs into Ottoman rivers –
lifestreams of Rossiyane and Turks
spilled from their inner oceans.
Their bones ~
lifeless as strings of dead fish,
litter seas once full of life.
The tears of fatherless children fill the Black Sea,
their futures blown away with fury
by eastern winds.
Jerusalem bleeds from both ends,
wrecking balls thrown into homes ~
toys for corpses in silent graves,
on fields crawling with poisonous snakes,
ready to strike and kill.
Bombs care not which breasts they rip babies from ~
babies cling to lifeless mothers,
suckling the last drops of milk.
Yet the blasts never falter,
snuffing life from the babies too.
Homes in Gaza are occupied by disaster.
Dark clouds of war cover their skies,
rains mixed with volcanic dust of missiles.
Bitterness is worshipped now as religion
on both sides of the divide,
where though blood runs the same red,
the colour of faces matters more
when bombs rain upon their homes.
Again in Tehran, bombs fall as flying storms
upon homes,
raging fire sweeping streets
like a plunderer in the night ~
chasing orphans into mangled alleys,
searching for parents under piles of dead bodies,
while dodging rollercoasters of bullets
spinning daily.
The UN is dumb to bombs,
its sole purpose to oppress ~
letting untouchables keep their nuclear weapons,
breathing down weaker necks to keep theirs away.
The powerful keep getting more powerful,
the weak keep getting weaker…
to stop the world from writing its obituary while still alive,
or so they claim.
Yet each day, the world keeps bleeding.
But who will unbind these fetid wounds,
or must we rot into our end?
Who said:
"You don't realise what you've got, till it's gone."
In your absence I despise silence,
when you're gone loneliness visits,
but his friendship, I do not desire.
An empty scent circulates in the room.
Air is cold and crisp, all is black and white
with sad songs on repeat.
I find no peace listening to the rain since
you left me in the darkness of the eclipse.
Phone keeps ringing, but its not your name
flashing on display - I prefer a blank screen.
Not one voice seems to appease,
nor give me peace from this disease -
when you disappear like Houdini.
Yet your ghost lingers in the backdrop.
A candle quivers, dripping in tears of wax.
I don't blame your heart for its change,
but why so stubborn in bitter muteness.
Without you my soul resides in an empty trunk,
defaced with green moss, crawling with beetles.
Sanity is dripping like a leaking bottle of crimson water.
I remember when you were a wounded bird,
bleeding on a path to no where, unable to fly,
crying endlessly, yearning for your nest -
but now you have flown so far away.
Sometimes there is no patience in time,
especially when one closes their mind.
Without a chance to clarify confusion,
all is lost in ignorant translation.
Once, I had a million pieces of affection,
wedged between my soul, heart and mind,
but in your eyes they were rejected as unworthy.
Once what you loved, is now your enemy.
Today, I am the twin of sorrow,
tomorrow your twin will be regret
and you'll be crying when you're forgotten.
Simple Musing (fictional poem)
Silent One
20 November 2020
The quote is a line from the song "Big Yellow Taxi" by Joni Mitchell from the album Ladies of the Canyon (1970).