Long Upholstered Poems

Can We “Feel” Music?
By Carol Geyer


Can we “feel” music? Can the notes cool or warm us?
Soothing like green aloe balm, or warm as flaming Yule logs,
 or as majestic as a fully leafed oak?
 ...

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Is this the weekend, by the way?
           (I always think it’s Saturday!)
           Load the kids...

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There’s a lake called the lake of Illusions,
And there’s a house right by its side.
It’s a house where I’m hiding,running away from memories.
It’s where I’m destined to be forever.

The rules don’t apply here, no.
The storm...

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Stop
Shedding and sowing
Begin bracing for burning
In land of melting
Pots

Was
The crews parallax
Of the trees
Which conceives
The lumberjack to
Saw?

Timber!

Reviled
But adored due to bark,
Chopped down and chastised a log mark
Famine yet fervid mouth of hell,
“Rollways”, or “skidways”, dread logs...

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She will take a bus today; it will be an old bus on a long 
taken journey. The factory is a derelict shell. She cannot smell 
the dereliction, she smells the walls and the ranks...

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Oh dear Miss Ava,
Miss Aging Vanity
Your faded universal beauty
is visually pleasing no more — 
	especially to your own self
You hate looking at that aging body 
The sagging truth stares you in the mirror each day:
	twin...

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There, There! Good Children!
I say to the furniture gracing my space, 
semi-circling the weary gray eye 
of the television, as if it were the center
of the world.  It's tired, but YOU are 
to rest...

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The Bedbugs Come to Call

By Elton Camp

All my life I’ve heard of this pest
In filthy houses they come to nest
Bed bugs you will never detect
Where people have self-respect

It seems now, that’s no longer true
Several things...

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OLD AND NEW 1  : CIRCUS

Giraffe on anxious heels
bought in Sandton, toddle 
along with intense haste
a dream point unheard
lipstick smudges, mascara 
leaks of AK47 dust she rifled

Bullfrog madly croaks
vying for a place in a...

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The Bedbugs Come To Call 
  
By Elton Camp

All my life I’ve heard of this pest
In filthy houses they come to nest

Bed bugs you will never detect
Where people have self-respect

But now we find that...

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Upholstered flesh is wetted with a single stroke
Thumbs clasp and rotate
Ribs click with an enhanced inhalation
Consequences of a little death

Tissues consume bloat
Drain and wither
Free radicals creep into closed eyes
Flecks are swept like stars of dust
Behind...

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2uqZhnqHMAg


The orchestra strains to be symphonic --- a bee in a tin box.
Cigar smoke thunders, molecules of sound wilt
only to be dialed up through brass lungs.
The combo is quaintly upholstered, a classic sports car
driven by...

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The house I wrote this poem in 
became an apartment for the ocean,
then a zoo for the innocently maladjusted,
then a garden for dreaming cats,
then floor-space - just floor space
to walk back and forth on. ...

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Big red buckets and yellow elephants
Standing on mice wearing pink flared pants
Oil filled puddles of many rainbow hews
And crocodile upholstered chapel pews

Armies of platform shoe wearing dogs
Wearing wigs made from living frogs
Thick carpets made of...

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I like to read and think about
Tyrannosaurus rex,
and gigantic brontosaurus,
with his long and slender neck.
                    ...

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The house I wrote in
became an apartment for the ocean,
then a zoo for the innocently maladjusted,
then a garden for dreaming cats,
then floor-space - just floor space
to walk back and forth on.
The room I find these...

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He was
crying
and wouldn’t take dinner,

so,
huddled off and
to the side,
the three of us we stop
and watch kids 
two-hand pitching
over gravel,

then walk on.
This old block -
the architecture
is not the same…

- was this it? 
where we fumbled
in her...

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Whither now hunker-shins?
You have a sweet countenance,
a squat grace,
always middle-aged
on the still edge of a speeding sun.
Another swift day has begun
yet here you sit among the traffic
unflinching, a bold 
bladder quelling gravity
with low-sprung shanks.
You deep-seated...

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A breathing weight pushes flesh
into fabric and wood.
A cellular heat melds, sinks inward.
Fibrous miasmas knit cloth and foam
to a ligamentous persona.

Nightly, less of her
is peeled away to be packed
between sheets.

Her last chair takes upon it
a...

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 His:-    "I like a little lady who
is round enough to squeeze;
who has a soft capacity,
alluringly, to please.
And coming with a lustrous smile,
a tempting cunning wheeze,
she has this hint of wickedness.
Oh what...

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The train was like a long caravan chug, chugging along,
and my destination was far, and in a place quite remote;
I was tired and weary but I knew I had to be strong.
weeping, I fell upon...

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