REDUCTION
Permeable
Plethora
Potpourri
bouquet
Nosegay
perfume dry
Praise decay
Blooming lovely
bone dry fumes
Bone China burnt
white parfum
Colour of roses
Iceberg melts away
Reduction
in warm ocean
Heavens rainbow
reduced to tears...
Drops in the Ocean
Rise to nest in bosom clouds
Rain flows down river
Aqua Marine
23rd May 2026.
Job 36:27,28 (Rain cycle described in Bible)
the deer died with her eyes open
which means she watched herself
become field
something permeable
I found her on the third day of autumn—
found autumn wearing her decaying hide
like a hand-me-down dress
the flies had already written their poems
in the metaphors of her throat:
small black punctuation, multiplying
I wanted to close her eyes
but my hands passed through
what I once believed was boundary
later the biologist told me
decomposition is just the body
finally telling the truth
about how many selves were always
inside you waiting to be released—
even the child who never grew old enough
to be revision
now when I say I, I mean the forty trillion
bacteria who call this dirt-body home
I mean the deer
the flies
I mean the light
that passed through her
and landed here
in this poem
which is just another way of being eaten
which is just another word for love
by the porous self
I am a lone foreigner alocated
in an exotic landscape with
nothing but the foaming blue tides of duvet
that I rythmically sway with like
the sweet branches of spring.
I stand, bend, sit on the salty
lips of that ocean.
however the shallow has never
been my comfort zone so
I fling myself into the belly of my bed
and find my head in the jaws of a soft
pillow chewing my skull at snail pace.
slowly, a heavy weight of
sleep drowns my lifeless limbs
and sedates my consciousness with a lullaby.
"you're free!
free from labour, free from you, free from everything besides me", sings Lady Lazy.
suddenly
dawn breaks with orange permeable heat,
she is Bed 257.
she is not a root, she is a seed.
keeping me from work,
I pull myself out of
the vast roaring sheets and tidal duvet,
I'm gratefully unappreciative
and so the cycle continues.
Rational men among us state plainly
- that no ghosts walk among us.
But they haven’t really searched the shadows,
or smelled the sweet musk-roses you wore
when wind-chimes twinkle like your laugh.
If ghosts haunt, then spirits linger.
If ghosts bedevil and terrorize,
spirits hangout, abide and remain.
Time is as nothing to them,
they are now and they are then.
We are shadows, that are becoming
shadows, that were shadows before.
Rational men know what they see,
but they’re dull and though waking,
remain unaware that lemures tamper,
with impressions, subconscious voices
and barely perceptible shenanigans,
across death’s thin, permeable veneer.
.
.
Lemures = From Roman mythology: spirits who become involved with the living.
You often pondered,
behind your plastic door
and pretentious smile,
could I be her friend? The pressure
of being needed could hijack
your life, your perfection,
your impassive popularity.
Then you saw her
close her eyes tight
as if she were playing dead,
and noticed the tiny trenches
of all her tears.
Her weak smile scared you into feeling
something far away and true,
and when she laughed, you knew
it was genuine.
Her humanity left you
bleeding, and you could taste
the earthiness of the elements
at your core.
So you forgot her, but in your dreams
she is more alive. She is freed
by her imperfection and
becomes the world
you straddle.
Maybe you weren’t the only one.
Maybe she was lonely.
If only you had more time
to understand her permeable existence,
she could have uncaged you,
and you could have been
her touchstone.
If only...
Contest: Pick-a-Title, Vol. 30
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Date: 5/10/22
I thought I had all I needed,
I rested on my oar,
I thought all had been mended,
I had everything to soar.
Naïve and inexperienced I was,
Someone had to put me through,
It was a different battlefield and the wars,
Were not what I thought was true.
The instructions came at the eleventh hour,
Nothing much to salvage,
I couldn’t be pulled up the tower,
I had caused permeable damage.
I fought to get back on my feet,
All was to no avail,
There were a plethora of requirements to meet,
I ran but didn’t entirely prevail.
I have laboured for others,
Gave all my time and left my desires,
Opportunities came but like toddlers,
I didn’t see the current flowing through the wires.
I'm on a full-scale run,
Before the door closes on my turn.
April 2, 2022.
My Foolish Heart Cash Prize Poetry Contest.
L. Milton Hankins.
I found it necessary to get rid of some things
I don't usually argue with myself
so I cut some questioning pieces
those unnecessary chunks, you know?
but I think there's little left of me
I didn't have the naughtiness of this throwaway world
I never had the malleability of the insensitive
my soft and permeable heart dries up easy
dies if the shape of the clouds is not friendly
or feel the cold abandonment
when the roads are steep and bleak
when he hears the menacing rustle
of dark foliage hiding uneasy things
he imagines a block of pain that swells
I actually don't think I was ready
to the wild rage of this life
to these embarrassing final steps
at what point did i forget how to survive?
False Prophets
Spirituality for one, atheism for other
deterred
Skeptic dissenting extreme religiosity
wickedly interred
Charlatans deluded permeable minds
weaponized infectious lie
Prognostication of human destiny fails
for in time tyrannical powers, die!
Penned: 1?11/2022
12:18 a.m.
Lake Worth
Florida USA
OH!
You punched holes in my system
Now, I am incontinent
I can't hold water for a second
You blame it on indiscipline
You licked my mind
Now , I am permeable
I can't sieve immigrant thoughts
You blame it on gullibility
You dragged my true self
Now, I am a masquerader
I can't meet the world without the mask
You blame it on cowardice
You attack every step of mine
Now, I am calculative
I can't choose expediently
You blame it on Indecision
Oh Society !!!
There is only love
when we leave the other
behind – our world of others:
Commitments deemed by
self so paramount,
we become perpetually
addicted to treadmills;
inducted wrong-tracks
adhering as a second
skin –
The rain can
fall but the plain will never
give back, if the permeable
depths irretrievably
No benefit by making
of one's self a non
irrigable desert –
having wandered too far and
stored up too little –
the well used sayings
about burning bridges
and being a spendthrift,
they apply to the heart and
soul as well--
Love often...but wisely....
Running, running, as fast as I can
I couldn't catch you, you slipped right though my hands.
Like how an hourglass fails to stop the sand from falling,
I couldn't stop you from leaving in the end.
Sand trickles by through permeable shields
Not being able to stop our time from running out.
Falling far from what felt like Elysian Fields,
Making me realize that perhaps all sweet fruit that this Earth can yield,
Are nothing but honey laced with hemlock to be poured through the ear.
I'm still running, running, as fast as I can.
Towards what now? I'm not sure I understand.
Just one foot and then the next.
Whispers of warning does Orpheus howl in my ear,
"Don't look back, for there is nothing left for you here,
Just keep moving, and the pain will be easier to bear."
Starting to plead with myself not to turn around like he couldn't stand,
Learn from his mistake and resist the temptation when I can.
“Life’s a long day’s journey into night.” – by poet.
It’s been a long road and I am tired,
I tried to go back where it all began
but my soul got lost along the way.
I live in a world of death,
All the ones I’ve loved are now gone,
like birds freed from the cage,
but I’ll fight to keep their memories alive.
Man is permeable like a sieve
and he sifts for nuggets of intimacy.
The furrows are leveled
The harvest is in,
And I guess I’ll go some place quiet,
put my feet up, and lie low for now.
But some day…
I’ll find my way back home.
~11/21/21
~Contest: "W" (Weary)
~Sponsor: Constance La France.
permeable
layers
brown&grey
white light
lineages
in the
infinite
moving
creation
leitmotiv
uncontaminated
ahistorical
intermittent
tensions
twixt
reality
&
enlightenment
So the streets are cold and the streets are fierce. Perhaps the paved hard stones are just permeable to our tears.
The smiling faces of strangers that walk by are now gone. What has this life really now become?
Fear seen in the eyes of people struggling on. Makes me want to cry for what I know has gone.
The air feels oppressive even in the sun. We’ve lost so much and still much more soon will be gone.
My wall
The safe space that I hide
There, you don't exist
And I go on with my life
My wall is impenetrable
It can withstand a strong wind
Yet its permeable
It's where I decide who I let in
My wall has a purpose
Resolving my troubles and fears
I deflect
It's a trick, I learned in my early years
My wall keeps people out
I feel protect from my foes
Unfortunately, I become a prisoner
Captive within the confines of a mind you don't know
My wall has consequences
Sometimes I feel locked inside
I suffocate in isolation
Relationships get fractured in my life
The wall that I built
To provide shelter from my storm
Creates a temporary reprieve
An illusionary deviation from the norm
For those who have built a wall
Life is never quite the same
You see, we get to hold all the cards
In a dysfunctional game that we play
My wall is strong
Impenetrable some may say
Just don't take it personal
It's a trust issue, that's made me this way
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