Gone pass the windrow of my life,
taken on board over short periods.
Depletion gauged at total length
upon second terrace down.
Convex appears at medial conclave,
therefore turned and complete.
There is a monster in my bed and I let him in. I supplied the pillow to rest. His quiet wickedness I don't address. As he fondles my body while I lay still undressed. I don’t reciprocate his love or affection and he won’t allow me to stop it or reject it. That must be his thrill. Just begging for me to pet it. Like a dog. I like dogs. They don’t force me to love them. They just are. He has a darkness beneath the face, beyond the freckles and scars. He stays inside until he thinks you bought the bit that he is a chivalrous guy, but he has secrets to hide. As sweet and willing as he seems he is holding two sharp blades to your carotid artery. In plain sight but you choose not to see. You let the darkness in because a part of you believes you too are a dark fruit fallen from the forbidden tree. Another lying message you allowed your brain to receive. You are more than an object of affection, you are deserving. Sometimes we have to burn it all down to start anew. A cleansing of the medial prefrontal cortex erasing desires previously initiated for a few as I currently have a monster in my bed and I am the one who invited him in.
Ties
The squealing of
the glowing ties in
my bottom chest drawer,
ties I seldom wear and
definitely don’t think
much about, spreads in
my knee to
affect the
lateral collateral and
medial collateral ligament; affect the
lateral and
medial meniscus; of course too
affect my
patella, femur, fibula, and
finally tibia. As a consequence, there are
days and nights I can’t
walk and
I can’t
thank them all enough!
So as I was trying to study unsuccessfully all day, attempting to get ready for tomorrow, I finally gave up. The following came out instead. Funny how it is with me. I read a post by someone that had been reading a book, and it grabbed my attention. Then heard a song that I hadn’t heard before. While those two events were rotating in my posterior cingulate cortex and medial temporal lobe, this came out. I only had a few minutes to write it down before I lost it. Not sure if my geographical references, or historical names and dates are right, so I’ll just blame the wind. And it’s not really about Native American, black, white, or race. It’s “The Call of The Peacemaker”
Or
“The Wind Cries Out For Change”
UNAPOLOGETICALLY
The perfectionist execute his perfection unapologetically
Making the less-perfectionist slate himself unfairly,
unapologetically undermining his capabilities
without apology, appalling himself, friends & families.
Being unapologetically honest with oneself is rare
and self evaluation & self criticism is fair
but unapologetically comparing oneself to another,
whether from onset, medial or coda,
No matter differ-ence is unapologetically self-degrading.
Humans are constantly evolving & upgrading.
Penultimately, be unapologetically true to yourself
in being the best version of yourself;
But make sure being yourself
is unapologetically good enough to yourself.
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright© October 29th, 2020.
#OnTheSpotPoetry #VickManuelPoetry #VMP #UnapologeticallyPoetic #poetking #PoetryChallenge
One upon time dream fly
Despot power consume two buy
Eager three meager often astray
Medial elegance detriment four-way
Indistinguishable few high fives
Incontestable ignorance compose new lies
Wonder full wonder no wonder we bill
Interest no interest concern will for free real
11-9-2019
April reversed backward retort as Lirpa
Plurally to be continued as April's ect.
Rose's may be red literally in said so of April
Ignorant to some , inspired by to as well
LaDawn comes medial of this that here name
acrostic poem
Poor Joe Is Disabled
By Elton Camp
To hunt and fish are Joe’s delights
For his sporting spirit it delights
Hiking and camping he enjoys
And going to games with the boys
There’s no expense to get his pay
As it automatically comes his way
Even extra income he can make
If under the table he does take
He has an Uncle, rich as can be
To all of Joe’s needs he’ll see
Even medial insurance he’ll supply
That’s so hard for most to come by
For Joe is totally disabled, you see
His back hurts as bad as can be
He’s totally unable to do any work
As determined by a red tape clerk
Every month, Joe sneers
As his disability check clears
“Social Security’s not only when old and gray”
This is young Joe’s most favorite thing to say
All those dopes who keep on working
Their chains Joe really enjoys jerking
Triped,
that’s me standing
Set on all three,
like three sides to a story
The one leg, medial,
is key to fruitfulness
and who would not want to enter,
of the host to whom this step is given?
Is there another door,
one from which lushness sprang?
Triped,
that’s me planting life
The third has more than delight;
it is to fashion a brood for hope
I tread so soft with one leg in a bag;
this is while bliss-searching
These streets we trod, amid treachery,
can cause a life of grief
Triped,
my blueprint to walk as a man
Am I my brothers’ keeper?
Oh yes I am, but not while this triped stand
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.