Long Disrupting Poems
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The base word “dally,” from old French used to mean to chat idly.
dilly-dally of dandelions - seeds on fire, blown
downward. inspire
molten icing— erupting,
disrupting the perfect garden of peace.
dilly-dally, those tongues wagging like puppy tails.
such excitement, seems friendly, enticing—
it’s dicey; the splintering
of rivulets, they run
dripping from waterfall lips, diving off the precarious cliff -
trampolines everywhere, but they’re missed. the kiss
of candy-sweet news, the licorice-twist…
she can’t place a hand over her own gaping hole.
the dog bites the hand that tries to scold.
the slap-happy hoarding of gossip - the girl
can’t get enough. when it’s not on the wire,
she turns to the swoon of reality t.v.
salivating, with ears like a drainage ditch,
or a sinkhole, a muddy swamp. she loves
it.
they
don’t.
run.
she’s
trouble.
11/19/2022
Afterwards, Mithila
Mithila, you may never know,
But I can sense- deep, unshakable…
Something strange stirs on my horizon.
Perhaps, a festive awaits,
A celebration of fleeting mortality
That rushes in, disrupting my dreams.
This life, Mithila,
Was never a weaver bird’s nest
Weaved it in hardship of life
That turned into a fleeting courtyard of sparrows.
And now, I drift closer to the edge,
To the very limits of despair.
Mithila, the winds will cradle your path,
They will guide your alluring trail
You will not be completely alone, I know
But an intangible time will clasp onto you.
I will lie in its wooden coffin,
Carried like a bride in a palanquin of four…
Not to a wedding feast,
But to be enshrined in earthy box.
Everyone will rush with the speed of storms,
Leaving me in solitude,
Alone...
Ah, what a cruel tradition!
With this unending body,
I will rise…
Summoned by the divine.
My loved ones will exhale,
Their burdens lifted,
And their duties fulfilled!
Let's chat, have food, and entertain the guests.
Ah, what a ruthless custom!
Mithila, an invisible gust will cleave your heart,
And you will wonder
How will I be?
Where will I be?
I will stretch across the boundless earth
Its vast courtyard will become saddened
Light will break through the darkness in fragments,
That’s an eternal nightfall.
Foxes will call in muted cries,
Birds will sing silence into the wind
Blending silence.
And beneath the soil,
Where rows of skeletons rest in eternal beds,
No breath will touch another.
Only the sleepless vigil of nights without end.
Impressed upon those desert dunes
that stretch back o'er the years,
my lonely prints hear fading tunes
as sand seals wind-swept fears.
A fervid gust comes whisking past,
disrupting settled pains.
Warmth enwraps my heart at last,
emitting torrid rains.
No fair mirage could conjure this
I taste from deepest springs.
No cactus thorn could pierce this bliss
that hearts at risk can bring.
This arid wasteland starts to thrive
as streams of ardor flow.
No dreams of grace must I contrive
for blooms of love now grow.
A splendor-realm from 'twining roots
has breadth beyond this land
where passion's sky-borne geyser shoots
erupt from burning sand.
A beautiful oasis shines
where barren ground once laid.
A set of footprints now defines
the melody that’s played.
I turn off damn ringer,
nonetheless...
telephone still buzzes
twenty four seven
eight days a week
automated telephone calls
digitally recorded message
perfectly spoken English
differentiation to distinguish
"FAKE" simulation
all bot impossible
totally immune to escape
gagging hospitable invective
electronic jawboning immunized
against antipathy, cruelty, enemy,
hostility, insecurity, pleasantry
Yukon run to tallest mountain
dive into Mariana Trench
get catapulted into
outer limits of twilight zone,
yet NEVER be free and clear
getting wirelessly zapped
with visual ad audiological
offal dregs and spam
oh... , yes even after life,
while weightlessly
pinwheeling in limbo,
particularly during eternal sleep,
when dead souls repose
six feet deep
or corpse undergoes cremation...
yepper, infiltration into atomic core
blithely battered, jimmied,
cherry lee pitted, tweaked,
worse fate than return of Zombies
electrical essential existential
incorporeal surreal auditory ordeal
spurs indiscriminate human
to relish golden silence
spawning best selling novel
to flesh out fiction
Utopian treasured island story
winning unknown author
instant acclaim and glory
describing village people
livingsocial, free and clear
without annoyingly,
egregiously, infuriatingly,
maddeningly, quaveringly
vexing, nauseating, disrupting
blitzkrieg courtesy aggravating
trumpeting autonomous programs
hijacking brainstorming concentration
thwarting aim tug get back on target
(even when carrying on camping)
sundering coalescence
regarding colonizing black screen
aborted doomed genesis
of brilliant fleeting idea,
thus one smart
generic garden variety
longfellow forced to
grovel along boulevard
of broken dreams.
Any resemblance between above
hyperbole and living persons
purely coincidental!
A Strange heat is walking up the street with a heavy load upon its head and a yardstick to measure the dead, it’s walking in a straight line, staring at the glaciers melting from the hill filling the empty pockets with moisture and soaking the earth with water. A strange heat is moving around in the street and it is disrupting my heart beat and the pacemaker that is stuck inside gets my hearts rhythm to comply, and the leads connecting to my heart chamber are place methodically and the wires deliver electrical signal to keep my heart's rhythm in a fixed position. A strange heat is moving beneath my feet and the lining around the earth crust that is made of metamorphic and sedimentary rocks starts crumble and I could see way out in the deep, the tectonic plates began to shift but I quickly sealed it up with a touch of magic and the intensity around me was strong. A strange heat is following me around and you have got to get a whole of it before it destroys the town; it is dressed in a well- and it wears a felt hat everywhere it goes and sometimes it appears in the middle of the show. It climbs landscape, mountain seas and land and it can cover a short distance in seconds, and when the universe comes to town it covers itself in sheets and long gown; a strange heat is in the place and you have got to cool it down before it is too late.
What else can I do
When,
Seated on a couch with my laptop on me,
I see,
Bombs and missiles demolishing houses
And infrastructure, killing people in great numbers
And disrupting the normal flow of existence?
What else can I do
Other than cringe
And pray for peace?
What else can I do
When I see people having to move from their homes
Relocating in underground subways
And trying to adjust, stoically
Even if gloom can be spelled on their faces?
What else can I do,
Other than wish for this madness to end
And yearn for the God we all pray to,
To open His eyes and to act?
What else can I do
When I read that weapons so sophisticated
To even be allowed to be put into use
Have been employed against civilians
Merely for the sake of conquering lands?
What else can I do
Other than bleed words
While swallowing gulps
At the realization that the peace that surrounds me
Is so ambient,
That, throughout all these years,
I have never even thought that
I have been living as joyfully as would a fish
In a calm lagoon!
What else can I do
When I see people desperately clinging
To their own ideals of survival,
Hoping, somewhat, that life would go on
As they had planned it to!
What else can I do,
Other than let the shadows conquer
My sparkles and push me,
To want to open up the skies
And take God by His hand, and
Bring Him back to our abandoned land
So that He blows from our minds,
The folly of our own existence!
I sit here pondering the next move as I watch the hour slowly slips away, and chance standing in the horizon muse steadfast at me. It is that little nudge that you get when you are almost out of breath and you try to find something to hold on to but nothing is there and a tiny beetle comes along and start to sing a merry little song.
It is the little things that amuses me, like the mouse playing hide and seek in the art gallery, the spider building a web for its sadistic prey and the cock roach crawling on the wall has caused a great brawl. It only comes out when visitors are in town and starts a commotion all around.
The evening sun is just cooling down and everyone is running around; it drifts at the back of the hill and creates havoc in the street, the people are running around in a frenzy and something peculiar is disrupting my heart beat and I can hardly breath.
Sweat is dripping from my face and my head is getting hot, my clothes is soaked and my feet are burning. The water is running in the stream is warm and something below the surface of the earth is interfering with my dream, I have to go and check it out.
The beetle from the order of Coleoptera,is flying around in the tree with four hundred thousand bugs descending in the open space on thee. It’s hard exoskeleton is fashion to protect its internal organ and resist all external blow they too are getting ready for the big show.
I have traveled this path many times in the sun and rain and each time I travel it’s never the same, sometimes the journey gets longer and my heart gets heavier and chance waits patiently for you to come. It is that moment of waiting when nothing is left I begin to find myself
I have stumbled upon the “art” in me and the courage that is spread out in the ocean before me, and I begin to reason with myself. Just one more chance to go on that trip, Just one more chance to see if you really exist. Just one more chance to get it right, just one more chance to complete this sacrifice.
There is one thing standing between me and you, it is the path that you have to pass through when you close the door; meet me at the junction with a script camera and a bottle of water and you will write that story of how we cross over. Meet me at the junction and chance will take your hand.
On one Christmas Eve
To those who believe
News was declared
Honest and fair
Information needed for those trivial pursuits
About the red outfitted man wearing snowy black boots
“This is to be proclaimed
Santa Claus has a middle name!”
Bellowed the communication crier
Reading from a royally documented flyer
“What is it?
Does it fit?”
Townspeople asked
About the imaginary facts
Wondering if this was a wise act
Handled properly with tact
As the name was announced
Faith it was pronounced
Creating such a buzz
Describing exactly what Santa Claus does
A magical spirit
When one hears it
Conjuring up invisible power
Having strength not being a coward
Energizing a special force
Assisting in dealing with adversity, of course
Changing things for the better
Reason enough to write a letter
Explaining the trouble
Behind the burst bubble
While asking for peace and joy
Which appears in the form of a hand-crafted toy
Truth be told about this lesson
Where faith is addressing
Combatting the problem that is the mess
Forcing the enemy to confess
Santa exists
Equipped with a warm, loving Isotoner wearing fist
Guiding us through life’s cold blurry wintry mist
Giving the gift of understanding
During a time when things are demanding
Disrupting all the planning
So, go off and pray
With a simple request to say
“I am not scared,”
Remember to show the Santa stare
“Warning don’t you dare
Faith is inside me
Now let us enjoy our afternoon tea.”
An old man sits in the crowd, he briefly caught my attention, I wasn’t sure if I should stand or bend or just pretend, but I had this horrible feeling that was so revealing. The tension bloated my gut sending waves of anxiety up my spine, and the wind starts to blow and water began to flow.
The air around wasn’t so clean and the stench from the toilet pit perfumed the air with an unusual stench that sends tiny drones buzzing around my ears. I tried to knock it down to the ground but it keeps going around and around disrupting my thoughts. The fly just knows where to land when your emotion hits rock-bottom , it pretends as if it is dead and then it comes buzzing over my head. I continue to follow it around until I squash it deep into the ground.
I walk out of the cluttered space just looking for an escape to breathe fresh air and so I wander around the back and start gathering trash. I saw a tiny particle among the leaves; the sun reflected on it sending long rays into the trees; it was just a coin laying in the bush with the head staring at me. I picked it up and walked away and I saw an opening for a brand-new day.
I walked towards the entrance seeking another path but every entrance and exits were blocked. The air space and the sea are covered and every land mark was devoured and the army surrounds the space.
They stand with legs flushed apart like giants on the run holding the crucifix before the gun and five shaved men kneeling before them begging for their lives but mercy closed their ear and each had to pay a bountiful sacrifice.
Twenty-one-gun salutes bellowed from the gun but the men on their knees had no place to run. They were buried in the trench and a big stone was placed on top of their head to remember the place of the dead.
When the air is fresh and your mind is at rest and courage forms ripples beneath your feet, the silver coin in the bush will show you exactly where to look. When you merge your soul for something that is bold you will find new meaning in simple things and direction to leave that place.
The blueberry vine climbs steadily upon the giant tree
swarming vineyards with thick shrubs and laden branches
succulent berries stacked together in massive vineyards
Feeding the mass and nourishing hungry appetites.
Luscious blueberry vines span all over the land
Filling homes and gardens with enough juice for everyone.
Amidst the heightened heat, blueberries flourished on the street
blooming immensely and absorbing stamina from every corner.
Invigorating breeze filters over high mountains sucking up
Turbulent tensions from within, while irritating sounds
from the boisterous traffic rumbles through the historic town.
What a wonderful time this must have been,
somehow it feels like spring,
green trees blossoming over vast landscapes
while arrogant men with women lap around them
bragging with tempestuous sounds from burnt out muffler
fashioned to attract attention, intimidating birds and beast
disrupting strangers and sleeping neighbors.
Long fancy limousine parade up and down the historic street,
chauffeuring curious passenger dodging behind tinted glass
while scrutinizing bystanders.
Traffic speeding sixty miles per hour in a twenty five miles zone,
defying the traffic rules and forcing others to slow down.
Today felt a little peculiar my heart is romancing in the shadows
the scorching summer heat mingled with winter chills
oozing sweet, penetrating cities and countryside
spilling out fresh air and calming the atmosphere.
The exhilarating blue sky sinks deeply inside
penetrating the globe from side to side
Arousing my innate ambition pointing me to the right direction
I couldn’t help but dance and sing while amusing myself within.
As I looked beyond the thrilling blue sky my heart suddenly came alive
I felt a profound peace flowing from within
And goose pimples proliferated all over my skin.
©2015 Christine Phillips