The lower jaw self-unhinges
as the skull gnaws
a recollection of a bygone face,
now it must use the roaming poems
of restless winds
as its surrogate voice.
You kiss that sad cranial dome,
where a forehead once pondered
upon the meaning of everything.
Your eyes are now the very wellspring’s
of a hidden depth, which will always be that
unsolved mystery of you.
Now here in your cupped hands,
you cradle the foolishly grinning remains
wondering if this was God’s first word
or last.
The first thing to unhinge is its lower jaw,
the skull now (sometime in your future),
gnaws the recollection of its bygone face.
It must use the roaming poems of restless winds
as its surrogate voice.
When you are no longer its hands, pick it up,
kiss that sad dome, where its forehead
once pondered upon the meaning of meaning.
Your own eyes are now the very wellsprings
of a hidden depth, which was always the
unsolved mystery of you.
Now here in your illumined hands,
you cradle the foolishly grinning remains
of what you once called God,
yet you were not wrong
for even God moves on.
.
"okay
okay"
I were there
mine eyne
pop'd
i felt the heavy uv my
lower jaw
drop
he yell'd
"I won't lower the curtain
Quiet"
hiz voice sound'd
the crowded vestibule
only breath'd
and suddenly
without thuh warn
Flop
oh
my
my oh my
there wuz thuh "yuk" in the
anteroom
yet the rest uv us
gasp'd in marvel
i
for my part
marvel'd when I return'd
home
and
spill'd this here vision
such muse alter'n
pluperfect
lay'd bare
for mine fellow'z
astute critique
I hear that after she broke-up with me
she herself broke down.
A friend of a friend said he distinctly heard
her main-spring go.
They say she broke
in the London underground.
while waiting for the West Ham tube train.
One of her many prodding elbows
sprang a leak,
a sharp knee ground to a halt,
a sprocket in her head
escaped out of her open mouth.
She just toppled there on that platform
an oily mess.
She deteriorated fast they say.
Her lower jaw tried to swallow words
made of toothless cogs.
Eventually she was written off
and declared beyond repair.
It was all so very sad.
I also was damaged, my mangled remains
were displayed for weeks in a small art gallery
dedicated to avant garde performance art.
The last war I saw
Was Crushing Eyesore
And I was dead sure
Man badly loves a chainsaw:
A film that lowered my lower jaw
I regarding the scenes from bare floor:
The crazy inclusion of Wasting Chainsaw,
With all its quartering strength and numbing awe
That Man’s Bestiality brought to the fore;
A peace move making a thing core
And bloodshed an “Exciting Bore”.
The last war I saw
In a friend’s filled store
Was worse than a whore
One sees and makes for a door!
Concerns
silent bottom sound
passivity
totally paralyzed
anxious
Confusion,
feeling of unreality
the brain boils
drop the lower jaw
... lost direction
07/11/2021
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
The last war
I saw
Was an eyesore
In a crazy film that further lowered my lower jaw
And had me dazedly regarding the scene from bare floor
Its further showcasing of a monstrous chain saw
With all its quartering powers and awe
That man’s bestiality brought to the fore
Peace talks among factions making something core
And bloodletting, at best, an exciting bore.
The last war
I didn’t know the reasons for
In humanness proved man abjectly poor
And in Holy Spirit, an empty store...
Much was it worse than a shaming whore
One sees advancing and considers an exit door!
The last war
I accidentally saw
Was an eyesore…
In a crazy film that lowered my lower Jaw
And had me dazedly regarding the scenes from bare-floor;
Its further show casing of a hyperactive chainsaw
With all its evilly quartering powers and evil awe
That man’s bestiality once again brought to the fore
Making peace talks a thing to humanity core
And much blood shed at best an exciting bore…
The last wars
I saw in a friend’s store
Was worse than a shaming whore
Towards you advancing and you’re fast to an exit door
Beneath the coat of icing, buried wrinkles squeak;
My teeth at misleading mirror - hotly clatter,
While an uprooted tooth on lower jaw – bewails.
I swear, this corroded mirror, I will batter.
Rhyming scheme: ABCB / 12 syllables in each line
Oct. 8, 2020
Rithimus Divisa 9 Poetry Contest
Contest Sponsor: Gregory R Barden
Original poem: Decay Through Mirror
Posted on Sept. 26, 2020 for the contest: Writing Challenge – Decay – Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
A critical friend - my mirror - stands in front
And yearns me to see what I can’t visibly see;
From the few gray hairs that faintly adorn my head,
I see a displaced gray hair fluttering to flee.
Beneath the coat of icing, buried wrinkles squeak;
My teeth at misleading mirror - hotly clatter,
While an uprooted tooth on lower jaw – bewails.
I swear, this corroded mirror, I will batter.
Rhyming scheme: ABCB
12 syllables in each line (Ref. howmanysyllables)
*A 2nd Place* in the following contest (judged on Sept. 29, 2020)
Sept. 26, 2020
Writing Challenge – Decay – Poetry Contest
Constance La France
I hear that after she tried to break me
she herself broke down.
A friend of a friend said he distinctly heard
her main-spring go.
They say she broke
in the London underground.
while waiting for the West Ham tube train.
One of her many prodding elbows
sprang a leak,
a sharp knee ground to a halt,
a sprocket in her head
escaped out of her open mouth.
She just toppled there on that platform
into an oily mess.
If I had known at the time
I would have run to her bedside,
however she deteriorated fast they say.
Her lower jaw tried to swallow words
made of toothless cogs.
Her ribcage sprung, gaping open
to reveal the dangling prune
of her heart.
Eventually she was written off
and declared beyond repair.
It was all so very sad.
I also was damaged,
my mangled remains
were displayed for weeks
in a small art gallery
dedicated to avant garde
performance art.
Leatherback, murray river, matama
Hawksbill, common musk and spiny soft shell.
Loggerhead, Atlantic green, alligator snapping
Turtles are we, in every country we dwell.
The largest sea turtle reaches eight hundred pounds.
A leatherback whose love for jellyfish abounds.
Alligator snapping is one fourth of leatherback’s weight
Uses pink fleshy flap of lower jaw for bait.
The difference in turtles fascinates me.
I can picture the loggerheads running to the sea.
No matter what country you decide to make your home
There is a turtle close by, even if it is in this poem.
Paleontologists collect
a lower jaw,
a skull
and ribs,
cleaving belly
of the Sahara Desert.
They provide the fossils
with flesh of fantasy.
This is
an artificial rebirth.
*Mansourasaurus was
not ferocious
like a fanatic
or a rapist.
It lived
with herbivorous mind
and showed
‘Might is not to fight.’
With a natural armor
of bony plates
in skin,
it traversed
the war-free world.
Mother never squirmed
under its feet.
The remains remain
with wisdom.
*Mansourasaurus – a giant dinosaur lived in the Sahara Desert
First published in The Literary Hatchet
auditioning what I've never said before
imagining what I've never saw beyond my shore
my definition of making ends meet
once you've seen the obscene lift your lower jaw off my scene
the statue in me craved for some UV
can you ban the tan
seems like little more than ancient was the plan
fundamental lighting
very very frightening
passing life through alabaster
it's a melancholic disaster
running backwards
looking forwards
he's got nothing you need
yet for him you're gonna bleed
how do you wanna your pain
regular is the new plain
this is the future, no more blood man will run on rain
surreal tattoo looking just like real vein
things will never be the same
the day the stops witnessed the tracks leave the train
search in my eyes for your uncharted terrain
Tamer Hossam
We lingered too the passenger like
awaiting the snake that runs on dike
We sat, hands tied to lower jaw like
Mom waiting for her dour child to spike
For hopefully the rain which pours like
Husks husked, bowl tilted by girl old tyke
Alas! Drought came and left fields empty
Our leaves wildt too tired to agony,
offered by weather adversity
And we, seedlings, fold to sleep gradually
All my neighbours died too and early
They had said, 'Dying is birth, buddy.'
I defied and stayed alive like Odyssey
The sun scorched and bruised my everywhere
I came red and food I could not bear
I bent as though I was to crawl there
Searching for water my thirsts impair
All adversities devoured to scare
On me as was the one standing their dare
I can't again it's too much on me
My hands cut; I'm now an amputee
By burning blown winds by high degree
Like Othello, it's that now's my zee
Hoping to rise when a drop drops free
For dying is birth said my buddy
BY: Yussif Hassan Cissey
8/01/18
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