Long Wanton Poems
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From ~ LARGE ~ to ~ small ~
K~Konstantin had travelled the world in unbeknown searching~g
A~Ariadne lost the plot and her thread a modern Sisyphus on the run~n
R~Raised in mathematical precision he questioned logic and Pi~i
M~Meandered streams of his mind with no delta or source without fill~l
A~Archimedes had drowned in the bathtub and produced wanton spill~l
C~Cartesian logic and Newton merely kindled heated debate full of lava~a
A~Acropolis Bergen Belsen Cairo Constantinople Calcutta a firm cul-de-sac~c
L~‘Leave cause and effect behind for a while on its quest for mens sana’~a
L~‘Life happens when you follow the flow squared circles teach no realm’~m
I ~In sight of the Ganges loin cloth in hand near naked emerges a star~r
N~Nirvana does not fall from the tree but intentions and actions feed Karma~a
G~‘Go resolve not hurt sentient beings and the world will be a little less sick’~k
27th April 2018
.
eager to learn uv
it's sweet
to learn az another
how vitriol
it's all
raisin'd up
oh how cute
natheless (i'm edvard)
it's wrinkled sheath
mine wanton
tuh twixt
tickle
thuh crease
only find
to
hiding
'neath it's thick sheath
bitter meet
*meet spell'd with the astute
think ")
No rules, laws or borders, killing for guns and gasoline
This is the world order, a blackened future unforeseen.
~ “The Rise of Chaos” by Accept.
Unforeseen dangers may lurk in the wings
Oh Lord, I have seen some fearful things,
Woe be thy providence for thus deceiving me
For what do I see? I see malevolence set free.
What a wanton trick you have played on me?
Lord, if ever thy face by the daylight I see
I’ll proclaim thy judgment has gone amiss
In the scheme of things, Man is easy to dismiss.
~11/02/22
~Contest: Unburden "U" word
~Sponsor: Constance La France.
It's the lack of grattitude,
It's the wanton desire.
It's the hopeless attitude,
It's the planet on fire.
It's the cost of living,
It's the war in Ukraine.
It's the unforgiving,
It's the realm of mundane.
It's the rise of insanity,
It's the falling of tears.
It's the search for humanity,
It's the preying on fears.
It's the blatant hypocrisy,
It's the bevy of crimes.
It's the death of Democracy,
It's the sign of the times.
It's the friendly neighbor,
It's the giggling child.
It's the honest labor,
It's the undefiled.
It's the sacrifice tendered,
It's the "None Left Behind."
It's the spirit unrendered,
It's the "One Of A Kind."
It's the cop on the beat,
It's the doctor on call.
It's the teacher so sweet,
It's the light in us all.
It's the Museum of Art,
It's the March of Dimes.
It's the hopeful heart,
It's the sign of the times.
I hover in a meditative state;
Delaying my awakening from this virtual cell;
A listless conscience mutates a myosphere;
Contemplating the zenith of an urban meme.
Unfettered by loose social structures;
I channel energies to locate a pulse exact;
Murmuring the karmic mantra in a trance;
This is the age of the avatar Me,
This is the spirit I want to be,
This space, this place, this entity,
This is the truth I seek to free.
Neon pulses react to stimulate;
Expanding digital symphonies with new zeal;
I project the conscious I in a nanosphere;
An imperfect narrative succors the wanton stream.
Protected in this matter of vague contours;
I promote something sensual but also abstract;
Prompting the homage in a collective chant;
This is the age of the avatar We,
This is the spirit we want to be,
This space, this place, this entity,
This is the truth we seek to free.
"PARIS"
Her perfume follows him
from room to room
Lily-of-the-Valley-Roses
lingers in the corners
of his mind, the hollow of
his neck
a soft kiss some hot moment back
in time, a vintage tune
Breeze blows her curtains
wide open
her streets of soft pink velvet
pulsating
Cherry Blossom,
her Empress Trees
all her rapturous city's noises
sway in time to
all his heart’s
crying voices
Her Church steeple,
his place of worship
god’s altar
drink her wine
his hair ruffled
genuflection,
Choir of Angels sweet cry.
Spring rain softly caressing
his Winter window panes
stained glass
Cognac Kisses, sweet
nude vertigo
luscious dream,
wanton blisses,
his last golden
Libertango
(Lovejoy-Burton/2018 Jan)
1.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vaXNdVTGT0k
2.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h02LY6KnyoI
merciless genocide
slaughter of native peoples
wrought with (super) wanton zeal
feeble ability to thwart
"discoverers" rapine wicked onslaught
merely ratcheted wrecked webbing
wrenched tribal unity,
violently rent asunder
vibrant indigenous linkedin weave
rendered sacred weltanschauung
decimated "noble savage"
woke wretched nightmare,
sans pock marked worsted weal
the Native American holocaust
shrouded in whitewashed veil
tragedy trampled truces
triggering tearful trail
scoped scattered remnant
snuffed out via surveil
futile sympathetic remonstrances,
viz rant and rail
hermetically sealed
dirty deeds done dirt
blunted, cheapened,
and deadened
lance armstrong to quail
most definitely coloring faces
of captive
American Indians deathly pale
into figurative coffin
got hammered
rusty nine inch nail
subpar critical population mass
for survival, plus storied "red man"
bereft of ample potent male
off limits to original proprietors
forced to hightail
happy hunting grounds o'er hill and dale
becoming desiccated bleached bones
devoid of awful, pitiful,
and sorrowful fait accompli
and roaming spirits
like banshees bewail
grievous shadow a blot doth cause me to ail!
Aphrodite, the goddess of love
Breathed a charm on my skin
Telling it to feel like it was dancing
When the one I love happened
Within sight, where I could embrace
The sweet tenderness of his heart
This feeling was a deep passion
Leaving me with a feeling of allure
The assurance that I was fertile
Like a lush and abundant meadow
Rich in protein and vitamin extracts
Alive with pure, potent abundance
Never barren or lacking intimacy
Certainly not fearful with a cold timidity
Always filled with insight, wisdom and hope
That this moment would bring me
Into the presence of sweet, tender ardor
Beliefs that would take me leaping
From worry and anxiety to pleasing poise
The knowing that everything that comes
Within reach ~ love that is so sweet ~
Arises from destiny’s promise to me
To believe in the joy of a love that dwells
Inside me and my adoring companion
The one who has felt the effects of love
Brought about by the goddess’ arrows
Sent straight through my heart’s center
Enlightening, igniting and inspiring
With feelings and thoughts which color
My entire world with embers of desire
Wanton need for the pleasure I seek
When I feel close to this amazing person
Who enriches my life with their presence
And shoots stars of yearning warmth
Through my body, my core, my depths
Where every joy is abundant and fulfilling
The craving for someone who feels devoted
Who dreams and believes and cares for me
The one who loves them without conditions
And feels like giving without any strings
Feeling closer than a brother or mother
Like intimacy has opened it’s whispery breath
To murmur pure bliss through my breast
Love like this knows no limits ~ it is completion!
A Contest About a Goddess or God - Not THE God Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Caren Krutsinger
July 1, 2020
I hold her memory within my heart
Of a time when days flowed as a river
When her hunger pierced like a lover's dart
To cause passions to pulsate and quiver
This love was born from our deep dark sadness
And burned the bloom from our lover's wishes
To fill love's cauldron full, with our madness
From love's starved wet mouth of wanton kisses
Deep was the shade from this fleeting fire
That scorched our flesh with white bellowing flame
To find ashes only from our desire
That left us alone with no one to blame
This velvet lover I can not sever
I will hold her memory forever
7/30/20
contest Dusty Old Memories
sponsor Constance La France
Seventy Three Years Since 1945
(August 6 and 9 respectively)
Robert Oppenheimer manned
"The Manhattan Project",
a top secret World War II mission
which constituted "Little Boy" codename
for a uranium gun-type atomic
bomb dropped at 0815
exploding 580 metres above civilians
with15 kiloton blast yield reduced
400 year old city to dust
Colonel Paul Tibbets, the pilot/ bombardier
of the Enola Gay (the Boeing B-29 Superfortress
unleashing nuclear warfare
seventy three years ago today)
gives cause for this baby boomer to revisit
mentally, the annihilation,
extermination, incineration
the first of two storied Japanese enclaves
realizes how trifling my current bout
with mania paranoia, pneumonia
(from northern exposure)
contrasted with sinister malevolent
evil tower ushering
thermonuclear age epitomizing
coup de nada so graceful means
maximum military mutilation
though unwell, this inflammation poised
to be cured unlike subsequent
generations of victims
who survived atrocious, egregious, hellacious,
judicious slaughter can only
poorly be described
by this mortal with a curable
bacterial/viral infection
aghast at such wanton killing, moreso
via weapons of mass destruction
more devastatingly grisly than
those "experimental" bombs
loosed upon the innocent population,
whereby 75,000 people killed or fatally injured
with 65% of casualties nine years
of age and younger
whence offspring of survivors
evincing excess genetic anomalies
with fiery windy surface
temperatures topping 4,000C
upon terrain hallowed by ghastly
horrible deathly dominance
amidst shadow of a mushroom cloud.