Long Lubricate Poems
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Poetry Often is an "Open Prayer".
Or; “What came first “The Lyrics or the Song”?
Poetry could be. Hypnotizing and mesmerizing.
A spell cast upon the receiver/reader to intoxicate -
Lubricate-and thought to combine.
Poetry, can educate, eradicate, aggravate-agitate.
A good write, could-incite, cause spite or delight.
A Poem, also could provoke, or choke;
Make you change your vote.
Poetry is humorous, or filled with natures awes –
The link between God and mankind;
A secret heart's revealing’s-
A delightful playful ditty
where children chant along-
A poem could be inspiration
sent from some other place in time.
It could be from an old poet transcended:
Or from the "great Divine".
Poetry will often leave something on your mind.
It is a cultural, spiritual,
and human exchange. Most of all Poetry is
"One spoken heart reaching another”.
My favorite Poems introduces seldom used words.
Real poetry may make my heart smile,
or my fist raised, could be political, sexy, or analytical-
Freestyle, or pondered severely:
Poetic pens produce poets, poets produce poems.
Poems can do all the above mentioned and more…
and that’s that poem!
CONT from Part 2
Snot Man Blue Part 3
Sick with guilt Snot Man Blue
quit his job there.
Sick with failure he ran away.
He couldn’t face his parents there or anywhere.
He remembered them saying, “If you quit or get fired, DON’T COME HOME! STAY THERE!
DON’T COME BACK NO MATTER
WHAT HAPPENS THERE!”’
He rested in a sunflower field
that didn’t have too many sunflowers to wonder at.
He spotted a barn,
one that was quite fat.
Inside were two hillbilly farmers who took great interest in his slimy, short-sticky outside.
Not too tough like bread on the inside he was.
They could see he was bleary-eyed.
However their warm great feelings
changed to cold and bad. And the thin-as-a-pin
farmer, to his thin-as-a-pin wife, suggested, ‘Why don’t we use him on the farm, Gwyn?’
But before Snot Man Blue, who felt too scared could ask, ‘What job will I be doing?’
the farmers grabbed him.
He thought, ‘Oh what will be their evildoing!’
They drowned him in a trough,
then soaked him until he turned to
liquid that they used
to lubricate their tractors tried and true.
And his human parts they stuck on twigs.
They threw those twigs to their pigs.
THE END
the causes i have lost
ever think the clouds
are hiding something
unfelt from birth
bounced around by atoms
grounded to beneath the ground
down
beaten like a beg
with no
rested pecs
Hero to nuns
ashamed suns
ending just befor
be
gin in a gin ring
unnoticedly unnotice a
bubble
dying from time
denying the seconds
out
round 2
this er keeps getting up
how
looking right threw me
with a listing lisping lips lubricate lusciously less
than naught
no's brought
the anti existent uneffisent to
cause a fuss
Spitting pity like leaded aero plain
as the knows on your face
ends of the human
race you to the bottom
Stop dare any God
stop my wor
nope no takers
ok demons djinns
here my jutting chin
Nope no one
you belittle me humanity
devolving so i dont belong
hope nature kills you
well thats your natural
state the truth
no fear for me
i dont believe the
now i put the instead of thee
what does the mean how many
dont know the meaning of simple words
watching love sold on revolving
on a crystal shelf
marked priceless
for all to bid on
and on this poem goes
but listen how the lines doth flow
almost hear the whispered wishes of a wave
forever breaking
a storms applause
or throw money
Is it to lubricate and protect my eyes from your flow?
Or do you intend to bring out my joy, sorrow, and rage?
By your stream-like flow to others, you show my grief, I know.
A parrot in your cage, with chilies of care, I engage
What do I suffer from? Migraine? Obsessed teeth? Kidney stones?
Is endometriosis the cause of your constant pour?
Owing to my old age, is there brokenness in my bones?
Has Destiny dug in me her perpetual pain bore?
On the death of my mother, at my innocence, I smiled.
I knew my dad's death well. Lo! You, like a waterfall, fell.
Does this mean that consciousness or awareness, that's hill-piled?
Together with you, I've many a tailless tale to tell...
Everyone who sheds you says, 'I got relieved of my pain".
Who in life, yet, I don't know, wants to cry again... again...
CHRISTIAN PHRASIS 2-spiritual
In the mirror before us,so dimly
we see,for now we know in part,
each stone of the other,a part.Gifts
functions and manifestations.Diversities
and charismata as God desires and
ordains,some upfront,some hidden
away,oil to lubricate,variable and
seemingly random,distributed as
He wills.This upside down kingdom
with different degrees of depth
fruit,two score and five of
comfort to men,one individually
to another whenever the needs arise.
Things spiritual for today exhibited with
agape love,ongoing and over time.
From my Things Spiritual2003
Listen to me recite this part phrasis on youtube under my pen name ichthys chiro
My life I leave without a fight
Those vile creatures in their spite
Have taken hold of all I own
And dragged me back to where they roam
The forests of the night.
Their eyes aglow with bestial greed
They slither round at sickening speed
Their sympathy is no defence
Their clamouring but a mere pretence
It‘s my raw grief they need.
It’s me they crave but not my flesh
These weeping wounds that bleed afresh
But lubricate the coiling mesh
That tight encircles me.
They feast upon my fear and pain
And stoke the embers yet again
To full blown tragedy.
Yet still no tears have I let flow
The bleak despair I’ll never show
That they would have me cede
Should I find arms to confort me
So loving and strong they'd have to be
Seeking not to stem the bleed.
4/12/20
126 words
Come to me..
And I will quench.
Umbrella free..
And I will drench.
Fill your rivers..
Every one.
Morning grass..
I rest upon.
Cut the rock
In Canyon Grand.
Cool you as
Your skin is fanned..
Descend to earth
As sad clouds cry,
Restore the arid
Desert, dry.
I feed each seedling
Help them grow..
Science spells me
Two H, one O
I shift with ease
From glass, to sky
Can drip or run
No captive, I
I fill you up
In dust you'll rest.
It's life I bring
I am the best..
A timeless presence;
A pool, so balmy..
Respect me though.
I am tsunami
From dinosaur
To new born babe,
I never leave..
Despite the grave.
On Earth I'm gold.
A gift, you see..
My value is
Polutant-free
The greatest solvent
Of them all..
Mix mortar for
The strongest wall..
I lubricate
The thirsty tongue,
I wet the whistler's
Tuneful song
Creator's brush
On canvas white.
A thousand words
With ink I write..
So treat me well
And you will find
To planet home
I will be kind..
Reflect and twinkle
In your eyes.
Rescuing souls
As I baptise..
A miracle of nature
Me.
Reminding of
The Trinity.
Whirr! Clank! Buzz! Clunk!
The gears of my brain seize up,
No longer meshing.
No inspirations, no images appear.
No lofty thoughts, ideas
Tumbling over each other waiting
To be brought to life.
No stream of poetic impulses flourishes,
No silver verbs or round nouns
Slipping into space and place.
Just rusty fits and starts
That produce only empty noise.
Where in my mind is the slipped cog,
That word, the missing tooth,
The slippery oil of sibilant syllables
To lubricate the machinery?
Perhaps here, by diligence
I can search and find the missing part.
I’ll sit and write and write and write
Whatever comes to mind.
Words, words, words, words
That might break free the rusty wheels
And release syllabic oil to restore
That free-wheeling flow
Of passion, wonderment, and awe.
That play of script
That once poured forth so strong
From easy mesh of imagination
With its sister, reality.
So gears, set to your work.
Turn together in perfect sync
To change my dusty prose to poetry.
The Devil’s watch has started and the time is consummate
A strange and tranquil calmness mocks our terrifying wait
There, just beyond our window moves like fearsome reprobates
A pair of tortuous demons meant all Hell to perpetrate
We will not yield in panic! We will not abdicate!
The oaths we swore, though did not know what fortune could mandate
Then all at once the door explodes like Hell’s infernal gate
And from its raw primordial wound two creatures detonate
A thunderous commotion rings as demons orchestrate
Concussive pandemonium ‘til heads reverberate
Our precious things and property? Just grist to lubricate
The cogs and gears of ruin in their trek to decimate
All supplications fail to slow or cause to deviate
The terrors’ stupefying quest to misappropriate
It seems no thing that we hold dear shall realize escape
Each second’s an eternity, yet hours accelerate
And suddenly as it began, the anarchy abates
Back to their lair they are recalled and though they hesitate
To disobey their Master’s voice they dare not contemplate
So final mischief they perform then through the door gyrate
Perdition’s gate they seal once more, no fear can infiltrate
Now silence will return again and we’ll recuperate
In time the fear will disappear and doubts evaporate
So order once again returns, our world to dominate
Yet in our minds there still exists (though we equivocate)
Confession for the origin of this despairing state
For harsh parental curse once made we can’t repudiate
What went around has come around to now reciprocate
Thus progeny of progeny is ours to expiate
We can’t take back what Nature in its wisdom still dictates
"I hope your children grow up to be JUST LIKE YOU!" still grates
And devil’s laughter is the fee we pay to procreate
Date: December 19, 2018
Contest Name: Give Me Goosebumps Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Nina Parmenter
It’s all wet…
And warm…
What shall I do next?
She keeps rushing me
Saying “Please, put it in”
Now she’s frowning
With a quivering chin
Let me do it in me own time
As I lubricate
I plunge it in the wet hole
Staying focused as I try to concentrate
In out, in out, I find her hands on it too
I stop and look at her
With that look saying
Don’t interfere
She says you doing it all wrong
These are the words no man wants to hear
Especially from the woman they love
The not so at the moment precious dear
So I stop and think it a lovely day
This summer
I’ll leave the blocked drain
To a qualified plumber.