A coyote howls amidst the blackscreen
of the woods as unknown silhouettes
crawl on earth's crust ,
rainstorm ramming on muddy soil.
The cry of doom threatens each being
when the monstrous hour screeches
to gather a crew of newborns
and within every vomitting breath ,
weak infants tumble over an abyss
of carnage... without resistance.
Mothers wail, yet sharp hands
blackened by thorny nails
grip the fresh bellv of kohl twilight --
Nearer and nearer
hooded spirits so humongous descend ...
their green eyes breaking the window chain,
moving closer for a more macabre feast
while babes wiggle like worms :
I turn the screen off in a dark, dark foyer
my heart throbbing in throes of angst,
hurrying to view if my young son
lays on his crib... dreamily asleep;
my mind wrapped in thrall... where is he?
In ghostly white of midnight as
sky- shadows trace gossamer streaks ,
I become a recluse,
losing tracks of stars' grave hues
and the flavor of meadows
in snow grows bitter...the bronze gate
reeking of metal cold, again --frozen
like my rusty, numb thoughts.
Must I remember
how they were slain? The wails come
to haunt those Godforsaken eves
when the lane flooded groaning voices,
ramming our old grills from darn
collision of cars--- in a flash.
And now, dim clouds reflect frozen
bodies of kin like grief stricken portraits ,
pale as folded , bloodied sheets...
and I turn away from this mashed
scene on a vintage gate, grating
flesh in drills of shock
...my recluse core, seething
' Leave me alone...'
Weather changing - getting warm,
Nows the chance to leave the home,
And spend more time more time with Dora,
My French bull dog the ultimate Explorer,
She gets excited when I pick up the lead,
Then flips into madness it must be her breed,
From 0 to 60 in a matter of seconds,
Using her butt and head like lethal weapons,
Ramming the door and knocking over a vars,
No care in the world and no disregards,
After this madness we need a short rest,
What is her problem is she possessed,
Then out in the open blue skies up above,
This is her domain it's all the smells that she loves,
She then becomes stubborn and wants her own way,
Ignoring all I tell her sit down and just stay,
But I have a pocket it's filled with pure joy,
Treats are my answer it's my only ploy,
I know it's no Winner she's brainier than me,
If dogs went to Uni she'd have a degree,
A masters in human intelligence,
If there was such a thing,
I have her on a long lead ,
But I'm a puppet on a string.
ANAGRAMMATIC Poetry Form
An anagram mantra
Gramma acting manic
Mama in a catamaran, cramming in a cigar
A martian mating in mint gin
A cat antic, grit at a rat act
Magma in a tin, anti-gamma rant
A tram cart ramming a car mart
Magi antic tracing air art
Gain magic in a grim margin
Am I an ant? A racing gnat?
I grin at rain, I’m a maniac again
Tag. I am it. ;)
Remember
when they thought my heart will commit a suicide
ramming at the ribs
but you prevent opening my chest
saying how heart just need some more time
you knew how people change
when they cut them open and bleed them out
then the tissues collide and some new fluid fills the void
you didn't want me to change
and loved me just the way I am
mother of my mother
I apologize if I have interrupted the cycle
couldn't let you go
(with unwashed hands)
then wingless horse died in my arms
now discontinued souls
lay scattered all over the chessboard
and I don't know will love endure
mother of my mother
your body was fully equipped for death
(couldn't let you go)
so I tried to seize that residual ray of hope and paint the light
but you missed the number
lily from our garden faded away
and our family puzzles went on a rampage
the absence flipped their masks
(you always said nothing is for nothing)
I saw them in the churchyard
they had currency in their cry
as your face changed
I could felt how all voids went drained
and the last piece of my tears fell next to the resting
(there was no new fluid)
stripped down hunter version
painted matt black all over
no black box tech
just a pilot and a gun sight
dodging from cloud waiting to nail you
lightweight aerial killer
even then 20 tons of metal
5 lighter than her sisters
three dimensional sky dance
this pilot knows all the tricks
his jet is a ballerina
nothing he can't do with it
by hand and eye alone
beating anyone and anything
god's own pilot
no co-pilot needed
dark painted killer
aggressor trainer plane
early build version non combat capable
today the pilot flew
took his black jet to battle
he claimed an indian su30
and an italian typhoon
flying by feel and 6 dials
old skool like boelcke or ball
old air skills 120 years ago
do whatever it takes
shoot them in the back
unseen kill
but if seen
turn into the attack
fly right at him
line up and fire
don't ever flinch or you die
always fly and fight to win
even in a damaged jet
if ramming your enemy gets a kill
do it and do not blink
if you die we will remember you
aggressor pilot in a stripped down f35
from *ucking Upside Down In a Blazing Avro Manchester Bomber – Poems from My Life and More
Nick Armbrister
sometimes I wish to cut myself open
just to see what is hidden inside
how lucky I am
even Jack the Ripper would bypass me
that's how lucky I am
but I wish to see
what am I made of
what's so heavy inside
that keeps my head just above the water
enough not to drown
sufficient to maintain disabled
when I open my cavities
and arrange my intestines
all over that metal table
when those heavy gasses deflate
I might be finally liberated
unless it is my soul
a heavy 21 gram that reflects odor
no wonder lungs collapsed
maintaining my vocal cords agglutinated
(haven't let out a voice in a long time)
and my neural synapses dried
I'm fuc*ing dried out
there's nothing left inside
only a velums from organic structures
I'm like a pile of used plastic bags
maybe that's the reason I feel nothing
(plastic is a flinty bit*h)
I'm overpolluted
garbage built impediments
(nothing can circulate)
and I have chest pain
as my feelings are strong-willingly and forcefully
ramming at that tortured core membrane
(still didn't cry)
You died on me
I can still feel you
haven't shed a tear
but I can feel you
shadows
walking behind me
yours is the laudest
Flakes as silent satin
Sail down salubriously
Dissipating into stupefaction
Hitherto ramming clay
They were the forlorn harbingers
Before a cataclysm of sposh
Burst through the firmament
Like a derailed locomotive
Besmirching any implement in ambit
The innocuous sniff of sposh
Vilifying my cranium
As with a burst of gore
Revivifying to the hub
After an interlude of rhythmic diminution and distend
A rapturous ardor of splendor
Garnering me into a frosty sphere
Of flakes and satin
Methinks it snows.
Find myself alone on the battlefield
knowing that my fate is signed and sealed,
enemy standing before me in sight
Is what we are doing so wrong or right,
I'm looking at him, he looking at me,
my job to kill him, his job to kill me,
gun in hand heart beating,adrenaline flowing
starring, it's him or me both not knowing,
Is he thinking what I'm thinking, feeling bad,
can see he is not that old just a young lad,
then I see a tear rolling down his cheek
But this is war, I can't show that I'm weak,
it is my duty it's whats expected, no mercy
takes aim though trembling, feeling unworthy,
he now drops his rifle, then drops to his knees
looks me in the eye and whispers don't please,
fighting for King and country, I have no choice
can't allow myself to listen to his pleading voice
all I can hear is what my superiors have said,
shouting I'm so sorry, so sorry, then shot him dead.
for what I've just done, can't live this life any more
ramming my bayonet into my stomach and fall to the floor.
My Lord...
I, the ill-fated, the scythe-bearing wind,
ask for forgiveness instead of death.
You do know that what I say is diurnal, don’t you?
Sibyl Herophile died prophesying their end
not mine.
I am hovering within your hands,
breathing from your own lungs.
I beg of you, forget the red prison house.
I fear, My Lord. Beckon me.
I no longer chant your hymns.
I have forgotten my childhood prayers.
Ramming in secular injustice
I seek my own sunrise.
In the affected I seek the authentic,
I cry to you, My Lord.
But then again, if you by judgment
find me dishonorable,
I beg of you, in secret bury me.
Kill me
by giving me the most unfavorable criticism.
Lay me to rest
in a huge mound of sun dust.
In you I trust,
My Lord.
Alice in Wonderland
Was my favorite book as a kid
I used to pretend that I was Alice
Having tea with the Mad Hatter
And the March Hare
But now I pretend that I am the Mad Hatter
For my mind is unhinging itself
Breaking away from reality
Till I can no longer recall
What is real and what is a dream
My emotions often get the best of me
But I have learned to smother them
But sometimes like a pot on the stove
It boils over and out
And I can't contain it
My mind is and becomes a freight train
Ramming itself against my skull
At 8, 11, at 1 in the morning
It is constantly running
And it never stops
I can't tell anyone about this
They'll think I'm insane
But what can I say
My mind is my own Wonderland
And I am but just the Mad Hatter
What a sick monster of a man creeping
around with no morals ramming sick agendas
Inside twisted ideas down peoples throats
All the time smiling in his deeply disturbed soul
paying his thirty pieces for the ferry man
Your entry unto the devilish domain
He disguises himself falsely as caring about people
when the suffering lie on trolleys unattended
As the homeless keep rising
Selling off state owned assets without consent
from the nation he should be prosecuted
under high treason of the state
Face the life sentence appropriate to such crime
Under the eighth ammendment our nations law
was passed and still stands tall
We are the land of saints and scholars
A generation of God's seed
We will not be involved in such a disgusting pact
One with blood as it's signature
which has been addressed by this countries kin
in the constitution clearly written as an unlawful act
He should be imprisoned to have such a biast mind
closed to the reality of home truth against the living in God's holy book
his only written words arc of his seed and covenant
This morning we are engulfed by a flirtatious fog
that seduces the skin of our hopes,
it's warm smother touches softly then suddenly skirts away
parting for the penetration of our will
whirling blithely as we taste the course that carries us into the bay of it's foaming bliss,
a salty smoke that seems to be spilling inland
from the burning edges of the world itself,
the ocean is in a fury only a few miles outside the bay
ramming it's very soul into the cliffs of paradise
chanting in a single violent growl
we can feel it's percussion in our chests,
it is November 6th
and on this day, as a family of survivors
and as a gang of explorers
we stride with pride to the summit's edge,
standing still and firm, stout against the winds of disbelief
and quiet in reverence for the might and miracle that this moment represents,
we take hold of eachother's hands, facing the ocean's ancient emotions
and I offer a prayer of gratitude and desire for continued guidance aloud,
as I finish we raise our hands and shout
We are God's eagles...We are the Almighty's eagles!...
J.A.B.
A husband with a severe allergy issue
Erupted a huge sneeze, going achishoo,
His poor wife flew across the floor
Exiting through a closed back door,
Next time he should use a tissue.
Version 2
A husband's severe allergy issue
Caused a huge sneeze going achishoo,
His wife shot across the slippery floor
Ramming through a closed back door,
Next time he should use a tissue.
---which version do you prefer?
Fun for Marriage
We were in those universal battles of fingertips and of massages
and of hips and of erotic urgency, which she etched
reddish my mind to pound upward to heaven,
tearing my heart in pieces from bone to meaty load
and from the top of my head felt ready to spin off
into a lake of Star War & Superwoman!
I am not a fool, you know,
I bore down on her like a fish thrusting my body and ramming
my bone into her soul of the ocean and I stood there shaking
where a gaze of pleading desperation in her eyes has told me I am so special;
pushing up from the bed the tigress, I balanced
in a squatting the monstrous in position, but when I was ready to plow
into her dream this physical attraction
that we had for each other, as this damned morning alarm
called up the morning after, and I vanished myself
into a hilary face from my new pregnant lady!
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