Long Gangrenous Poems
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The forest has claimed the archer as its own child,
and named the fair and raven black of her, Cellibre.
She hides within the lair of lavender night bleeding,
wounded by the horrors of the blood moon's killing light.
And named, the fair and raven black of her, Cellibre,
she fights the villains bold within the deeper dells,
wounded by the horrors of the blood moon's killing light,
her onyx points bring blackheart's gangrenous souls to hell.
She fights the villains bold within the deeper dells,
stringing a mighty bow of oak and ash by Druids spelled.
Her onyx points bring blackheart's gangrenous souls to hell
upon the backs of will-o-wisps evil is dispelled.
Stringing a mighty bow of oak and ash by Druids spelled,
she hides within the lair of lavender night bleeding.
Her onyx points bring blackheart's gangrenous souls to hell.
The forest has claimed the archer as its own child.
Character: Cellibre
pioneer esprit de corps front tier brisk.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Open arms and clenched raised fists raise
masquerade diametrically opposed to rodomontade sways
spewing threatening sacred constitution
expounding vaunted values déclassé 1968 degreed phase
Wharton alumni now on warpath to raze
via his bull dozing wreaks havoc on coven daze
ruining complex edifice
usurped storied super power craze
thru humiliation, liquidation of dredging bays
* * * * * * * * * * * *
and justification (viewed thru his warped vision)
scotching inalienable rights reducing to rubble bedrock division
with remainder of flinty stones,
and unlovely bones a wasteland fission
absent without a trace any evidence of Halcyon days,
which abomination, decimation, and gangrenous lesion
joie de vivre, when martial law decree deep incision
heil come rolled up (frightfully with egregious decision.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
the venomous, tenebrous, and rancorous white house
Head honcho viz prez) inside checkered hookahs lighting
one end per slow burn as hoary smoke emanates
in shape of Taj Mahal, then harmless as Mickey mouse
he iz well singed, seared, and scalded like a cook grouse
(yet of course still alive) sent to further douse
him into initiation righting tis basic human coup laid louse.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Acid test whereby he will be sold to Vladimir Putin for bunk
her hilled feather bedding rubles on the dollar, where clunk
key interim held up by cadre of well comb pence dunk
key Kong sated marionettes, which will carry fleshy lunk
dirty deeds done dirt cheap of this unmentionable monk
key villainous uber trumpeter, scabrous, recalcitrant querulous punk!
* * * * * * * * * * * *
keep your finger and toes crossed for the next four years
aware that such laughable ruse and superstitious scares
not one impish bot of fate, but more so gives false cheers.
Form:
This generic creek king mortal mwm
(who generally river ears the bay sea gully feels ire ate
asper propensity plundering positive human qualities
tested to the max), bait
ting virtue with rapacious opprobrious
malicious lugubriousness, and hatred create
head via the violent wickedness yawping zealously
oceans of tears that in un date
every nook and cranny of society, wrenching,
whip-sawing, and hammering extirpate
ting, the delicate nuances that anthropological fate
bequeathed to *****sapiens
species and genus undermining great
ness brought forth by artistic, democratic,
and graphic accomplishments with HATE
diluting the virtuous unification treatises
agonizingly tried to insulate
basic rights, whence erosion, corrosion,
and abrasion with goliath gangrenous monstrosities of late
subtract at frightful pace, the very survival of mankind and doth mate
absolute evil that percolates into the body electric,
where bloody fiendish genies prosper upending immunity
fostering broods that deign devious strategies in Nate
to destroy any salient sliver via BuzzFeed ding fifty shades of a gray pate
outwitting tentative grasp upon survival
barely fending off lashing off faux kings who e quate
might with right, and bring out the big guns
which blitzkrieg magazines fire at greased lightening speed rate
this battle whereby competing credos, ethos,
and grand Poobah grinds by force state
mints that all most obey lest Das Capital life will not tolerate
nasty, short and brutish torture engendering wailing ululate
diminish in a vain attempt to escape the maws of madness
where the grim reaper doth patiently wait.
THE GHOST BAR
gangrenous chains
rusted and burdensome
lambast the oak plank
etching ethereal gouges
the serpentine length drags
with warlike screams
ghoulish intensity
grabs each bony-disk
with heartlessness
the ice cold floor and
daggered eyes, seem
but a hallucination
to the drunken lot
but the barmaid sees!
she screams
as the breathless apparition
howls with wrathful laughter
she faints, fast and dreadful
the chains coil about his neck
in retribution for his act
yanking him about
the floor gives way like quicksand
and he plummets yet again
to certain death
covered by miles and miles of clanging chain
the barmaid’s brought about by salts
she tells the tale over and over again
until the legend of the ghost bar
becomes famous
detailed in rusty chains and eyes
...one peeks through
10/23/2017
Aw shucks, I did sustain
moderately serious injury
series of unfortunate events
ludicrous and quite insane,
yours truly did previously explain
while crouching (think
Tony as papier mâché Tiger),
aye fell backward, where sharp
desktop corner didst train
ground zero right side rib cage domain
punched thru L.L. Bean Autumn jacket
zapped, tattooed, lacerated... bloodstain
proof positive bow tocks sing
arrowing, fletching, notching,
piercing, searing targeting ... pain
prestidigitation went awry
courtesy "fake" legerdemain,
yours truly incapacitated plain
vanilla and simple
found me mortally slain,
more tortuous than spelunking thru
eye of needle size tunnel,
no bigger than sand grain,
and/or trumpeted by suzerain
arrogant, boastful, contemptuous...
arid, barren, cerebrally desolate brain,
a definitive liability,
(not just from Ukraine
stormy din yelled brouhaha), profane
but..., I wholeheartedly ascertain,
the commander in chief
an absolute zero inane
purpose twittering acrimonious, disdain
calamitous, egregious, gangrenous..., arcane
rumbustious, venomous,
zealous... carte blanche
bigoted, misogynistic, racist..., inhumane
blathering, excoriating, insulting...
seeding, planting, muckraking... dogbane
demanding obeisance till
henchmen verstehen
unwittingly declaring himself
jejune bloodhound August huss
preening, primping, proofing
orange-blond mane
more attentive to applying
gray matter to strain
Midas coated self
important fiery propane
verbal quid pro quo
explosions inevitably spray'n,
nothing but antisemitism, barbarism,
demagoguery, hatred...
diatribes roiling the masses
til rabid rantings attain
intolerant decibel threshold
usurping totalitarian refrain.
On this gangrenous planet, where the sky bears the scars of time gone by,
we should refrain from weaving plans from threads of illusions and hopes,
yet we continue to craft them with an optimism that pulses deep within our veins,
like a reflex of the dying seeking light in the final darkness of the day.
We cling to dreams like pale stars barely shining,
in a universe that hides its future under a veil of uncertainty and silence,
but even in the face of a world decomposing under the weight of its own mistakes,
we dare to hope, to plan, to weave stories from the ashes of the present.
Perhaps this optimism is merely a flickering flame in the cold wind of reality,
but within it, we find the strength to dream, to rise from the ruins of a shattered past,
and in every plan we make, in every hope we keep alive,
we discover fragments of light, echoes of a possibility for rebirth.
And so, on this ailing planet, where time counts its heartbeats,
we build our future from fragments of optimism, like alchemists of the dream,
seeking magic amidst despair and sunrises in the midst of perpetual night,
for even on the edge of the abyss, we remain seekers of miracles and lights.
Malignant gangrenous political cancer
corrupts, festers, and poisons United States,
thus opposition cannot wait,
especially since Gospel in accordance
with feeble minded Donald Trump
implemented wrought ugly trait,
particularly obliteration, sans progressive
human rights legislation
more or less pronounced positive
in every L ionized Nittany or cotton bowl state
and ratiocination inherent within
mine Democrat oriented mind doth rate
this forty fifth president (defect)
with sawdust packing
his noodle oven egotistical pate
trophy wife (spouse number three),
a Slovenia mate
donning "I don't care anymore"
t-shirt rousing media firestorm of late
essentially silently corroborating,
fostering, and illuminating hate
mutely bolstering the Trump anthem,
viz make America great
again, which pathless,
pithless, and pointless aim
roars like an earsplitting runaway freight
train oblivious of wailing soul asylum,
that no era meets said criteria
backtracking time machine before
rightful indigenous occupants of this land
got decimated as one after another
exploiter did inundate
(comprising a multitude
of indigenous variety of village people
indignantly subjected to Genocide,
when first "discoverer"
of new land didst promulgate
activation wrought deliberate sealed fate
vis a vis capitulation, demolition,
and extirpation, cuz
a scathing rebuke aye attest,
those murderers didst equate
worthlessness of
so called "Indians" on 1492 date,
and still remnants of storied tribes,
now attempt to create
historical documentation operate
ting with limited resources to adjudicate.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Food methinks doth buzzfeed drumbeat agog
at pyrotechnics July 4th, 2018 shared as blog
posts, a falsehood prevails which dog
gone “FAKE” brewed watered down grog
posits that the majority of Colonialists stay hog
tied to strict task masters, and mainly the scant
upperclass experienced autonomy,
no matter the under class didst futilely rant
and rave with the occasional
uprisings over time did grant
minimal appeasement to stifle violent kant!
I feel like ripping out a gangrenous wound!
Incessantly playing a broken accordion
My mind's repurposed angels distribute a few alms for the rain god
And the scent of old trunks falls on my cloned funeral
I encase my senses in the pit between lal-mim/sol-fa
I now have a house, crooked lives churning within my tiles
I am against—you are against—all the laws of physics.
Cigarette butts that never cease to smoke fall from the sky.
You are something that always feels cold. Hiding Dali in your body
That's why elephants make love alone. Storms, a great curse
I saw myself in the first shelter of hydrangeas
I cut my cord, in defiance of the all-out pain in my back
I feel like ripping out a gangrenous wound
Yet, it won't be mentioned in any medical book, and you won't know why
I simply drew your blood...
Deep inhalation and exhalation
breaths initially activate
relaxation, attributed to stress,
tension, unconscious vectors
woefully agglomerate
ache'n to gangrenous jackknifing noggin
dichotomy to alleviate
cognitive clog analogous
to emotional obstruction
that doth constipate
in an effort to allocate
opportune psychological uplifting
state of emergent euphoria amalgamate
ting in tandem with prescription
medication to leverage mental
quiescence holistically ameliorate
counterproductive suicidal waves
riding roughshod, which repeatedly
pulsate, oscillate, and nurse qua mantra
generate breakers animate
ting my state of consciousness
incessantly inundated with said
stormy sea re: brawl mailer
daemons intent to annihilate
stealthily, jarringly,
and devastatingly annunciate
without warning a tsunami
drowning spirited lifesource,
an undesirable nihilistic thought,
I unwittingly, hatefully,
and accurately anticipate
emotional tug of war
as better angels arbitrate
struggling successfully to arrogate,
and establish erstwhile equilibrium
lest body electric will self asphyxiate
such deep seated
respiration aims to attenuate
ninety nine point nine nine nine...percent
effortlessly injecting willpower,
and survival overpowering
strength modus operandi to dominate
self destructive negative feedback loop
constantly (i.e. daily)
vying to authenticate
practiced discipline, sans shut eye
transcendent mindset to calibrate
and stymie passivity to capitulate,
where resignation writ large checkmate
ting ability to experience and consummate
spiritual ecstasy, wherefore I contemplate
the simple practice the
benefits to coordinate
setting aside absolute
value able quiet time to cultivate
blockbuster, regarding crushing
beast within that doth debilitate!
Having failed yet another repair, on the leaking rods
I spit my liquified bowels all over the walls
Retching up toxic filth within
an expectoration of black lumpy phlegm
forms a pebbledash of grotesque sin
Some I recognize, some I can’t figure out
but it’s me, spewing cancer is my distinctive subtlety
carries my mark, the mark of a closet misanthropist
the splattered mucus develops into a mural
speckled with irradiated lies
Etching deep into the walls
a perfect reflection of my gangrenous soul
Instinctively eating the flesh off my hands
takes away the gnawing pain of paranoia
absolving my torments once and for all,
unencumbered at last, I now feel the truth, agony is real.
look at me, look inward at my outward humiliation
Bleeding out, upon his own sick soul
innards burning like hell
The walls turn molten
meltdown complete
By
David Kavanagh