Long Habituated Poems

I hope it would not be a parody of Michael Morrell’s political scientific position
to suggest all relationships are political
and all political relationships fall somewhere on a spectrum
between perfect co-empathic trust,
nutritionally and regeneratively favored by creolizing...

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Ink roached infestation didst derive within mice elf

Minor emendations to following
just posted verse
oversight to correct dissatisfaction,
yours truly I do curse
ah... methinks if hands of time 
can be made to go in reverse
a more exemplary version
to...

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Ink roached infestation didst derive within mice elf

Thus writer of these words
forever mus lee experiencing 
craving to eat cheese,
a milk product 
eternally preserved within 
annals, chronicles, epistles, 
et cetera of human civilization 
and it's discontents...

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Ink Roached Infestation Didst Derive Within Mice Elf
(thus forever experiencing craving to eat cheese)

Nothing but gridlock traffic
(far as thee eye could see)
heading east on Schuylkill Expressway
(oxymoronic name for quickest route
into center city, albeit Philadelphia),

yet this...

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Great transitions became part of human experience
after we gave up on daily nomad lifestyle,
perhaps too bohemian
to have ever actually existed
out of nutritional nurturing choice

As contrasted with necessity
of drought,
floods,
pestilence,
famine,
chronic wars,
climatic absence of healthy peace.

Great transitions
are choices,
positive...

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Here on poetrysoup, the newest poem,
 pops up on-screen
like the latest off-shoot, or newborn babe
or like a newest floral bud,
in the orchards of poetry.
Or like a fresh wave of words
crashing and cresting upon the turf
For...

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if the sinking-of-boat …ice-cream by name 
be deducted from the swept-off-in-flood … by name roll no 31 
then would the wings of the comics 
cease to exist 

what says the uninterrupted sound of water-falling 
from...

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A poet is a minute caricature,                             ...

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When u will be free we will meet sometime 
If not on land then somewhere in sky

Your hesitations and the way you tried
Your every movements dwell in my eyes 
All those nights all those talks...

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Opened door and window
My dissected chest on the top floor of the building 
I philandered with moonlit just once 
The Dim light was over there for a while
Vague all around the sleeping town
I laid in...

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Immediacy of the moment doth youthful heart beckon
With trite passions that seem to standardize each deviation
Intemperate fodder with which sprouting limbs must reckon
Growing pains producing physical appetites beyond satiation

Carefree days frought with moments of indecision
Sheltered...

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Mantle--a fluid shelf that cradles all existence;
Soil--a table that nurtures all subsistence
Flora--a cultivated canvas that neutralizes resistance;
Fauna--a habituated benefactor of indulgence.

Wind--a mysterious force of ambivalence,
Dispersing seed and spore with diligence.
Fondling cloak that cools with benevolence;
Powerful...

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Bound to form, habituated to conditioned patterns of experiential thought and aspirational imagination interpreting sensory signals, yet recognising the inherent limitation of such stuporous indulgence, awareness gradually unshackles itself from these narrow fetters, embracing the...

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Is it important that to someone we must speak?
Is it wise enough to open up when solitude makes you weak?

Is it really okay to make that person so important?
Is it even possible to be habituated...

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December did not call him out
to the creek,
it was a prod from a walking god
whose legs had grown stiff.

The softening stream is smoky,
a recuperating sun is unlocking the frozen,
slivers and floes jostle to be one...

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Self-perfidy ignites the story again
Contemptuously, I run to my patience's edge;
Strain it further, till I make the inner-burst.
Then, retreat callously, pricked by mundane-me.


Stuffing disgust, within air already replete with loathe
Growing old meaninglessly was never been...

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Parting with yesterday as tomorrow start,
The present saunters by, seated on a cart…
Yesterday life was on slow cattle tracks,
Tomorrow beckons as the dawn cracks;
 
Yesterday life was settled on a song…
Tomorrow I don’t know but...

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To money
With your power you do many a thing
Like rocking monarchs who ruled over the land
Powerful as you have passed into dust
Rich or poor depend on you for a grand

You seem reaching the needy walking...

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He stood there
Grey hair dirty, long
Unwanted
His grubby shirt faded
Old
Eyes sad, torn
No one
No home
Dirty bag holds food
Pushed aside
Misplaced

Stared at
Stared from
His frame of 
Shocking disclosures
Un-habituated
Sits down
Pauses, pausing
Moving aside

Pulling away
From life
Pulled away from
Us, them
Wrinkled noses
Snickering
Compassion
Compassionless

What happened
What happened to...

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Inside the depth of her heart
In some hidden corner
There cries a little girl
With her tears that never stops.

Under the harsh shades of emotion
Her tangled feelings
The worst nightmares
Her life that suffers.

Every other day she smiles
A cute...

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Dead to the world
he turned to face the wall,
it was an interesting wall,
it had a painting
of his semi-naked ex-wife
hung upon it.

Usually that wall picture
made him both sad and happy,
but this morning he groaned
like a man...

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My eyes were habituated to gaze,
what they used to see is only your face.
but yesterday, seeing you in that black dress.
My innocent heart appeared to be in a mess.
For me, you looked like a fairy,...

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