Long Innards Poems
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in diagnosis of psychosis, his pincer glasses reddening his nose,
the professor’s leverage - his certificate upon his office wall - the know-it-all.
a fragment of his time spent examining inky blots - the bevel of distortions of a picasso-like mind. he derided himself for thinking his patient as a derelict, given his own raggedy suit, long scraggly beard. He tap..tap...taps his pen, thunking it against his papers...tap, tap, tap to the annoyance of this...ahem, derelict.
“I must find a resolution to your illness. This panic you feel when you step into my office,” he can never bring himself to look the stranger in the eye.
with the vortex of a sinkhole, his innards drop out, when the derelict calls out,
“Times up!”
in conclusion of his illusion until next week, he thinks to himself,
‘next time we show up clean cut. that will fool him.’ he takes the blots with him.
he must know the answers for next time. the derelict must be locked up and he must be set free.
6/11/2019
Eight Word Challenge Poetry Contest
Sponsor - Kai Neumann
*My original is 14 lines. Please don’t hold it against me if the poem runs longer on PS.
Fragments of my memory
dissolve like mist
in the summer sun.
Parts of me
live in patches like
the moon on fragile nights.
I let chaos reign
in my head
and ropes of thoughts
strangle my being.
I let doubts of my existence
deplete my innards
as I watch the sky roar with confidence.
I have walked this path
innumerable times.
It has pricked my feet and hollowed
my soul.
And yet when empathy blooms
like fragrant wild flowers
I forget who I am
I forget how love has hurt me all the time.
The ocean beckons me today
the cliffs and ridges call out my name
for I am lost in a void
embedded in regret and loathe.
Yet a faint light of hope
flicker in the pain.
A flame of love
From my heart to my soul.
gluteus maximus left and right half moon cheek
re: byte size buttock attached via usb
(uniform firm behind) to this freak
with bowel movement
incontinence + gas filled gut evoking contortionist
frown stretching to lowest peak
perched upon porcelain goddess
where elimination did jut held captive hostage
atop toilet seat for many a week
exertion to expel rock solid turd required utmost effort
to force jammed bowel movement free
inducing excruciating abdominal cramps really hurt
plus sharp jabbing spasms within high knee
innards rent asunder
obstruction as canon gun size BALLS did spurt
lodged fecal matter refusing to budge from me
caused by severe constipation
whereby prayer a waste delivered only increased
sphincter muscle to scream
for rectal relief this mortal man faced
a worse fate than death, he would deem
since demise would allow alimentary misery to cease
versus remaining in this impasse for what might be years
unless perchance **** lubricant or special grease
would bust loose abominable
constriction in arrears finding me unable
to pay rent or renew lease
best prospect of remaining stationary
with words to wax
poetic found a glimmer of luck
when a kind wildebeest
delivered this message via fax
to help this male in dire per situation getting
pam purred poop unstuck with outsize mug of exlax
to help unclog rectal muck
access to get expunged to the max
but once expulsion occurs
DO DO PLEASE DUCK!
Man is a jumble of contradictions,
I know, a hard nut to crack!
So unfathomable, so mysterious-
at once a Satan and an angel.
To the outer world I am someone.
But in the well-guarded cellars of my privacy
aren’t I different~
hiding my innards to light, as every other man?
Am I not a masked player in life’s pantomime?
At times, I feel so proud,
excessively in love with my own image,
like Narcissus, the poor hunter boy
fated by gods to languish
on the bank of a pond,
over his own floating image!
However, with all my strength within,
do I not feel as helpless as Prometheus bound,
waiting for a Hercules to come
and save me from my plight.
If Prometheus’ bondage was God willed,
mine is self- willed…!
Is the difference so very crucial?
Sometimes I feel I am Janus,
looking backward and forward
into my past and my future,
never living in the present.
Or am I more a Sisyphus,
eternally rolling a rock over to the cliff
from where it keeps falling down?
Sometimes I wonder,
amid great splendor, do I not starve
like Tantalus of Greece in the pool,
beneath the tree, with the low- lying branches of fruits
constantly eluding his grasp,
and the water, ever receding before
he could take a drink!
As a poet, how I wish I could
equate myself with Calliope,
carving my mind on the wax tablet
with stylus, my pen and coloring it with my fancy.
Or Orpheus, so skilled in music
that with my sad musings,
I can make even Hades, weep
and the rocks to fall in line!
I shudder to be a Medusa,
turning everyone to a stone
with my sinister glance!
Instead, I want to be one of the Graces
and never one among the Gorgons.
Pitched in this gallery
of strange mythological entities,
I wonder how I appear to others
with all my multiplicities
of character and identity!
Bill: They call me Bill.
Me: Then call you Bill I will
but I will not I will Bill
and I will not I will not I will Bill, Bill.
Bill: Don't call me.
Me: I will not.
Bill: No, don't call me.
Me: Okay I will.
Bill: So you will not call me?
Me: I will, I will not call you.
Bill: God give me will.
Me: I'm Will I am, not the Will I Am.
Bill: William?
Me: Yes but they call me Will.
Bill: They should call you mentally ill!
Me: That hurts how I feel Bill!
Bill: Will will you f**k off!
Me: I will Bill, I said I will not but I will, I'll f**k I will, I will not I will Bill!!
Bill: (That Will is bonkers).
Me: (That Bill is stupid).
.........now if that doesnt make sense to you, you're stupid,
if it does, you're bonkers,
but genius.........Bonkers genius.....Probably..............
Carlsberg tastes like sewage,
but if it didn't,
we probably wouldn't give a sewage tubes innards!!
*Trust me, it makes sense (except the sewage tubes innards bit, that's just nonsense)... Probably.....
Form:
This epidemic re: murderous love affair perfervid
with gruesome morbid
fixation allowing, enabling and providing terrifying
trappings, whence Pandora out the lid
anger loosed by gun toting recorded by hid
dee us aide de camp per grim reaper
milling crowd, each bewildered person stunned viz satanic grid
loosed bullets ensnare coterie upping ante bid
daring pernicious fare thee well odiously off loaded
per incendiary fiery maelstrom to mega death count added.
Suicide bombardier slakes thirst aims at billeted soiree
with deadly precision, and spray painting human innards
congregated engaged groupon people), with egregious pay
ment for exaggerated slight mowing down, a slew - nay
soon to be lifeless victims unaware - delivering may
hem to anonymous hunter a cannibal as well
family and survivors, who lay
down their sorrows, which bring revulsion and gray
obsolescence of faith in mankind to fray.
Death be not proud, nor ought airtime be allocated to these
heinous cavalier avengers foe tee eight-hour special (proffers
twitchy finger itching to squeeze
especial easy access to sophisticated high caliber compact
offspring family affair sport doth please
manifesting prize pride killing machine owners
posed as stonewall Jackson frieze
rapaciously with so much ease
lethal gimcrackery cutlasses incite epidemic violence as disease.
Sorrow soulful songs sung by the likes of death cab for cutie or goo
goo dolls in tandem with foo
fighting beastie boys pay homilies whence homage grew
to grateful dead nobody knew
fetishistic martyrs wannabe set sights of sister and mew
sic cull doobie brothers of their simian species with no sorrow to rue.
Descending,
I manipulate and manoeuvre for the updraft
Spluttering,
I spiral down, then briefly up again, to glimpse a glowing sky
Flapping,
I fall forever faster, flat-eagled
Plunging,
I watch the unwelcome gloom envelope my horizon
Tumbling,
I twist, turn and turbulate, ... then the thudding thump
Gasping,
I groan and exhale, a noiseless moan
Curling,
I recoil as innards become outward form
Emerging,
a base inside-out creature crawls and creeps
Tasting,
the tongue-tied intestines and the unseeing socket eyes
Groping,
a gruesome grub befriends the worm and slurps the slug-slime
Engorging,
as flaunted members flail blood and flick licky, sticky fluid
Reforming,
dim visions populate carnal shapes with awful movement
Gaping,
a fearful half-formed and startled face averts its gaze
Residing,
in deep gutter niches... these are my companion dwellers
Wallowing,
I sniff a redolent upswell of dank fissured earth
Disturbing,
I scrape, cleave and wipe away a smear of covering soil
Trembling,
I sense a warmth of body, a stretching of exotic wings
Enquiring,
I mutter clumsy overtures and crude enticements
Retreating,
I hear unmistaken rebuke and a sigh of disappointment
Imploring,
I elevate my utterances and seek a further hearing
Caressing,
I feel a welcoming and forgiving response
Pulsing,
the creature's cocoon gives way to nebulous female form
Ascending,
at first a cherub woman smiles playfully down on me
Transforming,
a stimulating and sensuous siren cavorts and teases
Uplifting,
wings gather me in for a swooping flight of fancy
Revealing,
from above, her intimate view of dwellers in the hinterland
Coaxing,
she fills me now with empathy and understanding
Alighting,
my body-mind lies prone beneath her
Tingling,
I feel her form and thoughts slowly enter and encompass me
Exploring,
I arouse and we gently probe between lips and sphincter
Delving,
I follow our rhythm of kiss, taste, touch and thrust
Wandering,
I experience our ambiguous male and female desire
Playing,
I laugh at how we tickle our innocence and sophistication
Loving,
I know for delirious moments what it is to be another
Consumed,
lost in coexistence with a like- but more extraordinary- mind
Not sure if this would be consider taboo
To even mention the view
Did I just hear her say the word touche
When the doctor proceeded to do what she had to do
With stage crew and camara in hand
Filming what little dignity I have left
Are the tapes rolling, I may need consoling
When this crazy trip finds somewhere to land
Do I even need to mention the day before
Pills and laxatives by the score
To clean out my innards must be least 10 pounds thinner
Need I say anything anymore
Back to the uncomfortable crowd
You can hear a pin drop at the sound
For them it's routine, for me a dastardly deed
Could someone please send in the clowns
Adding a touch of savoir faire
Excuse me, is there enough room in there
If things get a bit tight make sure the pliers are sanitize
Anyone up for a game of truth or dare
Doesn't get anymore personal than this
Best friends now without even a kiss
Operation at 7 film at 11
To be viewed YouTube via Internet
#sayitisntso #didhejustgothere #doyouhavenodignity
Just had my Colonoscopy this morning...nothing like a good follow up poem!
Curve me a piece to bite from the oyster parts of the beast
Best suited to slink down my wrinkled dry throat with ease
being the bits most tender to the bite
Say I'm parched, bone dry parched, I fear I might just crumble to dust any moment
Anything hard might only hurt my frail throat, and even stall peristalisis is what I'm saying
Innards still dense in moisture and sustenance will do me well
They'll plump up my wrinkled dry throat at last, the better to funnel my shrivelled gut
Please throw in marrow off its bone with the offal to oil this flaky canal of mine
Feed me the best bits off the scariest of beasts and bake me cakes with its blood and bile if you can please
Let me chew on its hide and suckle all its venom into me, till I'm rendered immune to its attacks
I've tried and tried many a time I truly have
there seem to be no other way except through and I've had it with the hide and seek
There is not even one bullet to bite in this case
I did bother to look and even readied my jaws for the task
There is only a baptism of acid rain that threatens to leave frayed nerves bare, raw and dangling from the edge
Enough to drive one insane with frustration at the very least
Cover me with the grease off the beast's caul fat I beg of you
Let me piggy back off its slippery nature and swifly slide on through to the dawn of my rebirth
Hand me whatever it has for a third eye so I can use it for a microscope
Feed me to the beast let me gnaw my way out of its gut to know what makes it be the way it is
Afterwards feed me it's most tender bits so I can be immune to its bite for life
Form:
F raught and caught
B i'partisan creep-up-scular
I gnominously dystopian
America is not coping; and some.' How dark are days.? So; so black become' its all down
As in the scales of melody.? As in those
Of judgement fallen. ( For we truly see' ) its down the
Scale of depravity, amidst a wallowing with
The most detrious acts despicably, oh how much filth there
Be.' Enough to make a scum-sicle hard and
so cold.!
That needs shoving up the innards.'
Through the ether.? And into the nether
Location of the countrys whole.' Complacent
populace..Complicit if not now agahst.? At the sight of America.' Shown on the world stage'
with its pants down at half-mast.! Oh no!
I must say, to the very great; and INDEED!!
Most massuve overpowering...? Farse.)