The lunatics finally did it
And it’s gonna drive us all wild
A man has an x-ray in the NHS
They will ask if he may be with child
Picture the scene, it’s almost obscene
If x-rayed at some later date
They’ll ask if I’m pregnant and I will say, “No…
But, Doctor, I am a bit late.”
The doc’s chin will drop to the floor
The unborn rank high in their fears
He’ll ask me, “How late?” And I’ll calculate…
“It’s something like sixty-five years!”
expiring experienced excited and enticed enthusiastic emus
extracted exact experimental explosives from exfoliated flues
exasperating exam-free extraterrestrial expedition views
extraordinary x-rayed exclamations exuding as clues.
Amóre; what is that, he wondered,
before, before her, before the raw
Circean glimpsed across the buzzing
dance crazed rhythmic beating pulsing room.
Erudite, perniciously droll his
father was, he could have been, the old
generation, but not him, no sir;
he was master of the universe.
It took a while to traverse the room,
jam-packed with hot, febrile bodies in
karezza writhings, bodies touching;
love, or lust, on their minds and on his.
"May I?" "May you what?" She taunted;
neither spoke; both stared. His head bowed in
obeisance, bright red shoes his focus.
Power shifted, as both knew it would.
Quarry now the huntress, wolf killer
relishing command, his submission.
Slowly, mischievously; a wink; words;
"take me to your room, this moment, now
undress me; like you have already."
Vainglorious once; now, kin to a
witless fool, he stood, helpless; she stared;
x-rayed him with her cold steel-blue eyes;
"you're blushing," she whispered. The words like
zephyrs softly caressing his face …
Unavailable for work,
Unbeatable prices,
Uncertain times.
Undetectable fraud,
Unenviable tasks,
Unfathomable crimes.
Ungrateful children,
Unhelpful comments,
Unintentional consequences.
Unjustified dismissal,
Unkind acts,
Unlimited credit.
Unmentionable briefs,
Unnecessary accompaniments.
Unopened mail.
Unpronounceable words,
Unquestionable loyalty,
Unreasonable requests.
Unseasonal weather,
Untroubled teenager's,
Unusual behavior.
Unverified reports,
Unwanted attention,
Un-x-rayed patient.
Unyielding bolt,
Un-zesty pizza,
For unproductive people, uninterested in undivided attention.
Perhaps a conspiracy, but the crew only knows, the
Happenings aboard the USS Eldridge, kept hushed
In a ship that sailed from sea port to time portals
Leaves a feeling this test was not ready, but rushed
Amid the Atlantic they were meant to disappear
Despite intentions, not only from sight did they vanish
Ever baffled by a green, eerie glow where the ship was
Last, by naval command all of the records were banished
People say they reappeared in the Norfolk Naval shipyard
Heavily disoriented and fused to the steel hull of the deck
In legend they say these sailors fused were alive
And how did they explain this more than a ship wreck
Each crewman survivor, where are they all now
X-rayed and studied in a black ops facility?
Prying minds still trying to make sense of it all
Ever curious, but maybe beyond my ability
Remaining questions with impossible answers
In theory, could there still be witnesses left
Men or woman who saw a war ship materialize
Each in disbelief of their eyes, their logic bereft
Not knowing if it was paranormal or sanity failing
This gave a new definition, to the term parasailing
Surrender to the rhythm
under the world!
The night music of ages
Dance the Dance Macabre
Clubs deep bass seeps
Into Dark corners
as the lunar keeps the time!
Electric lights keep the rhythm
under the world…
Absent images in cathode
rayed tubes keep the thump and hum…
The feet move to the groove
The pulse of a heartbeat
in ascends in rhythm and rhyme
to a world beyond worlds…
Divine!
A never-were that never was a
Neverland…
Nevermore!
Keep in metronome march.
The ruthless ragged raging rhythm.
In the earth under the currents of life
dance the Divinities, the dance Macabre!
Of the world within, and the world without surrender to…
The rhythm and rage
of the metronomes grace!
The rhythm under the world…
God called us by name
Emotion to sooth
Shall never exclude
Ready to advance
Enchantement we shall dance
God held out his hand
Rayed our path along the sand
Beside no one else
Took a look within myself
Hands within our dirt
God saw our hearts worth
Blessed with his greatest honor
To God family who no longer wonder
Blessed by the rain
Giving thanks to his name
This world as we know it
Shall forever be changed
Our hearts held no resistance
Through God assistance
It shall reflect within others
His heart now gathers
Echo of love that clamoured
As did the hammer
All shall remember
Forgive them my Father
Heckled by winds, like the rabble
Of royal upsets of times
Summer, from his throne-chair of
A gold-rayed backing
What's yet true in minions' trill
Hears his homage in.
With his robes of former glories
Unravelling leaf by leaf
Summer, in what hangs dark for
Abdication's threat
A sky of crow now outlines.
Starlings' cloud-like net.
Popular Mozart melodies are playing on a low loop.
Five people tense as a clinic nurse
calls us in or leaves us hanging.
I know the drill,
she’ll lead me reluctantly to the scales,
the usual sighs of ritual humiliation;
“Are you 6 foot” she inquires
looking at the chart skeptically.
I don’t tell her that for the last 10 years
I have been shrinking while my bull neck
sinks lower, torpedoed by a laptop navy.
In the Doctors examination room
I slump worry and hum.
I know I will be there for a while,
long enough for me to scribble this poem down
in a dollar store notepad.
Back home I will spell-check every other word -
my mind was on a lump in my gullet.
After much examination
the doctor declared that I have a bone in my throat
one unknown to medical science;
at first she thought it might be a chicken bone
but it waggles only when I talk
and spins when I write.
Apparently there are strings attached to it,
something is pulling at that little bone.
When x-rayed it dances a jig
as if to entertain.
I’m still waiting for a second opinion
though I must admit I am enjoying
being the unidentified voice
of my muses little pinky bone.
Popular Mozart melodies are playing on a low loop.
Five people tense as a clinic nurse
calls us in or leaves us hanging.
I know the drill,
she’ll lead me reluctantly to the scales,
the usual sighs of ritual humiliation;
“Are you 6 foot” she inquires
looking at the chart skeptically.
I don’t tell her that for the last 10 years
I have been shrinking while my bull neck
sinks lower, torpedoed by a laptop navy.
In the Doctors examination room
I slump worry and hum.
I know I will be there for a while,
long enough for me to scribble this poem down
in a dollar store notepad.
Back home I will spell-check every other word -
my mind was on a lump in my gullet, but it’s okay,
after much examination
the doctor declared that I have a bone in my throat
unknown to medical science;
at first she thought it might be a chicken bone
but it waggles only when I talk
and spins when I write.
Apparently there are strings attached to it,
something is pulling at that little bone.
When x-rayed it dances a jig
as if to entertain.
I’m still waiting for a second opinion
though I must admit I am enjoying
being the unidentified voice
of my muses little finger.
Great was the escape, you need to hear
Riding on the blade of death, oh dear
Eerie and scary too, from my rear
An attack on me, it was so near.
Tried to swallow me, he a frogster
Emerged from the leaves, was a monster
Silent as death behind a piper
Craving to catch him, came a viper.
And that greedy frog, I failed to understand
Prayed by the snake, yet on his mouth he wished
Eagerly to catch me and to relish, his last supper!
Won fifth place in Great escape Poetry Contest sponsored by John Hamilton
still the same
still holding séances in batholes
still thrumming
and still drumming on my tinderbox
still letting the copycat days
kill themselves over and over
the angels are on strike
all over the Mandrake Mountain
still the dawn
is covered with cobwebs
of cold marine graveyards
still the dusk
is X-Rayed through our bones
still I exist
even though it feels I don’t
painted on the mouldy wall
just a part of a still life scenery
Great day in the morning!
I can hear freedom bells ringing;
I can see liberty waving on the horizon;
I can smell the sweetness of equality;
I can taste the aroma of liberation,
and can feel the warm embrace
of the tinkling unity of it all.
Above the rayed rainbow of life,
the spiraling smoke of peace rises;
below her arch, love roots itself,
and the universe smiles her beauty:
surreal moments have limits; reality, none.
Through the sky,
The stars
You'll love, you'll hate
Maybe you'll replace
Any mistakes
Were made for reason
Thin ice melts
Maybe my heart gets a bit warmer,
Stronger
Less loathing
More stunning
Run on the side
And you drive by
In fridged winter nights
Do you think of me
That's answered
Want to lay in sun rayed grass
Bathe in the love
Try to forgive myself
Get back to myself
For every thing I did right and wrong
Perceptions got skewed
Blue lace and white cotton
Remembering the happiness
By turquoise lakeside
Where I drive to, doesn't matter
Cause it's an ever looping memory
I dare to understand
Zillion youths x-rayed when videotape unravel
the security risk, questioning people’s obligation ,
not many leaders know juvenile involvement
hoist great fellows ,excluding dangerous criminals
being adjudged .
Related Poems