328.
The Shriek of the Decapitated Hydra
Iiiiiiiii…It hurts! How hot is the amputation…
Committed by the blade of your bloody weapon?!
But watch out for the result of your transgression?
Wiiiiiiii…Witness! Here it grows again! See my recuperation!
Now double your trouble! Double your damnation!
Hahahahahahahahaha! Poor Hercules! You've got a harder operation!
Iiiiiiiii…Intolerable! Another chop! Another daring action!
Don't you know it'll be the same situation?!
Grow! Grow another head! Let's move on!
Iiiiiiiii…Ignorant man! What a stupid person?!
Do not be blinded by your own illusion!
You have no match for this mighty creation!
Kiiiiiiii…Kill every source of his inspiration!
Let's end his brave, impossible mission!
He's nothing compared to our raging union!
Iiiiiiiii…Impossible! Why can't we carry on?!
Aha! One by one he's putting us into incineration!
Alas! Oh Lerma! Hear this Shriek of the Decapitated Hydra – a melting iron!
-02/03/2015
(Dumarao)
*Fallen Myths Collection
If God is hateful
explain where love comes from.
If God is your equal,
define the body
and how each piece flows as one,
and recreate it.
If God is betrayal
convince me your life is done,
that you're not just undone,
but unfinished.
If God is pure punishment
explain replenishment,
recuperation
and recovery.
Your discovery of God is not set in stone
and neither is mine.
So give Him some time to show you these rhymes
are more than mere poetry,
not solely words on a page.
Go on and gauge what the 'h' this means for yourself
You have made a big impression
On my whole recuperation
I’m forever in your debt
And i will never forget
The way you pulled me from loves war
Letting my heart know the score
There’ll be no more aprehension
Since this battle has been won
I know longer have to fight
You came along and made things right
Chasing away calamities
Causing all my injuries
Your healing hands have opened up
My heart that has been sealed shut
From hate that has been magnified
Surrounding me from every side
I thought i would have to retreat
But your loves helped me defeat
The pain that we sometimes possess
Leaving us in bad distress
Until the lucky day we find
Help to leave it all behind
JUSTIFICATION
Oh, what a distressing frustrating situation,
I’ve suddenly lost all my poetic imagination,
Nothing tickles me pink, no stimulation,
I want to create a poem of deep inspiration,
Which will meet everyone’s expectation,
But my thoughts are edging towards nullification,
I want to scream out loud, a slow dilapidation,
I’m reaching an uncomfortable exasperation,
My muse, has succumbed to misinformation,
Intimidation, and deviant calculation,
Goodness gracious,
Heard word she wants my poetic elimination.
Someone is knocking at my door, to my jubilation,
There stands a muse, I welcome with elation,
She is well known for helping those
Experiencing mortification,
Such a refreshing sight, she must after
Careful deliberation,
Give one month’s notification,
Looking forward to her presence,
Such a welcome application,
She will help me with my recuperation.
Behold, a rhyme is forming, what scintillation,
Delivering both articulation and jollification,
My previous muse jumped from poet to poet,
Everyone realized, fickle her motivation,
But my new muse and I realized justification,
We Popped a bottle of champagne in celebration.
The visions beyond the enduring crisp of firmament,
wishes of ideal and escape into mental decadent.
Dreaming vacancies to the holy sane,
loving aspiration forever by gratitude of reign.
Childhoods play and magical thought wonderland,
where the impossible is the golden rule to understand.
Enchanted places and many self that only oneself really knows,
myriad of creatures in foreign worlds with all its bestows.
Wonder of heroic wealth by its absolute power trace,
image simulation molded and caught in transcendental space.
The dream weaver holds the levitating rotating globe at hand,
destinies favorite muse conducting with the magical wand.
The law of loves beauty in its own delicate retrospect,
never looses its enchanting wonder and surprise effect.
The castle of indomitable presence and sacred ground,
the worst of worst for recuperation found.
Shared stories sensing itself to the turning point of matter,
creating synchronized universes distinctive blue and flatter.
Seeing clearly know for all makes perfect sense,
the tincture of spheres colliding with residue of love immense.
A Beautiful Mystery starts at death
your quintessence is depopulated
your heart, overpowered by agony.
Life is bleak as despair overwhelms you.
A Beautiful Mystery starts at death
when half your quintessence lies underneath
when your tears by no means discontinue,
reassurance brings exasperation
A Beautiful Mystery starts at death
when your broken heart gradually mends
when your spirit little by little heals,
daily routines are no longer severe
The anonymity starts at death but
Beauty is in our recuperation
Not a good attempt at a Sonnet, working on making it better.
Land of lost time... dark isolation
Unobserved recuperation
Not recoverable worry
Nonrecordable story
Unused daily recreation
User only designation
Wasted, postponed, cancellation
Collected space... never to see
Land of lost time
Equal time delineation
Priceless in evaluation
Time forgotten and not to be
Barren fields for eternity
No need for negotiation
Land of lost time
August 17, 2018
Rondeau Contest
By Joseph May
Image #4
BLACK AND BLUE FRIDAY
First – the carbo-loading
monster meal to sustain
the beast that drives
the cornerstone of greed
in mindless hunt for “bargains”.
Next – jockeying for position
awaiting the starter’s pistol
explosion of coupon bearers
storming the gates of ….greed
pursuing an empty, endless, need.
Feint right, fake left, bob and weave
position, position, timing
shuffle-step, reverse pivot
head fake and twist, break right
aisle 6, electronics, end zone – score!!!
Crazy dance, fire works,
no flags thrown, no penalties.
Game over. Ice and ibuprofen,
rest and recuperation.
AH, the joy of
BLACK (AND BLUE) FRIDAY.
John G. Lawless
11/21/2017
On occasion I ran the marathon
when I was younger and all my powers
of recuperation were much greater than
they are now. I remember in the hours
after the run was over how every bone
and joint in my body aged and ached.
Remembered, too, the moment in the zone
when strides were easy, and breath unslaked,
and moments around the twentieth mile,
when the calf muscle failed and the joints pained,
and FINISHING!, when will, pride and denial
overcame the weakness that flesh ordained.
Hate to admit, now, the twentieth mile,
when virtues replaced by philosopher's smile.
A stomach virus laid me out,
My husband down as well
And then we were surprised to hear
Somebody ring the bell.
Two bags delivered to our door
With Gatorade and soup,
Saltines and even Alka-Seltzer,
Quite a sickbed group.
Our son arranged to save the day
With Amazon – the Prime –
To help recuperation
And give fodder for my rhyme!
You have made a big impression
On my whole recuperation
I’m forever in your debt
And i will never forget
The way you pulled me from loves war
Letting my heart know the score
There’ll be no more aprehension
Since this battle has been won
I know longer have to fight
You came along and made things right
Chasing away calamities
Causing all my injuries
Your healing hands have opened up
My heart that has been sealed shut
From hate that has been magnified
Surrounding me from every side
I thought i would have to retreat
But your loves helped me defeat
The pain that we sometimes possess
Leaving us in bad distress
Until the lucky day we find
Help to leave it all behind
Blot out the whole emerging gesture
To demonstrate leading astray thy pace;
Don't rebound to toil and wrestle,
Be temperate tilt not at any rate!
Outrun ne'er surpass in celebrity quartan,
Submission ties settle better productive gain;
Prepare to ignite flame of fixed canon
Must evade excruciate feeble in vain;
Riches give delight yet defend not,
Slaking thirst aqua less attract rabies;
Pride of sagacity weak riot crazy spot,
Mere contentment if alive relay miseries;
Deny not troth behave alike recuperation
Spurt what ambition turn amative thee;
Man! thou hold energy to alter cultivation
Please the almighty by culminating blemish free;
Only provident would give certain dexterity
With vigour, venture, assume design marvelous;
Where its sacred light confirm privity:
Personality seems observing rare not fabulous.
IVF
Times without number
That’s as far as one could remember
Or better still conjecture
At this end of this ocean we stood, at the edge
Aghast at the tardiness of virility
Invisible except for its vivid physiognomy
That swirled and rolled and spent itself
In a recurring recuperation of empathy
Till rains agoraphobic arrived
As a successful ‘in vitro’ in the glass sky
A sodden blast of breeze scattering a mound of leaves
Breathing into the fertile insides
Slick in fermentation
Sticking to sticky bloodied life.
9 Mar 13
S.Jagathsimhan Nair
Entry for Rick Parise's contest
For PD's 'Freeverse contest' now on 13 mar 13
It’s been a tough year for you, Linda-Marie
Surgery and recuperation take time
The Soup clan still prays for your recovery
Our prayers, like loving hymns, to the heavens climb
This year on your birthday you’ll kiss your sweet beau
Another candle means you'll have strength to grow
How blessed you are to have a birthday in May
Revel in happiness each year and each day
*Entry for Linda-Marie’s “May Day” contest
By Carolyn Devonshire
Do you believe in being alone
Well I don't
Not since the day I was taken to the hospital for "safe recuperation"
The very place that gave me a philosophical concentration
Now It's a clear day of sunshine skies
I am no longer blind
I have butterflies lifting me to flight
I've regained my will and might
Though my mind subconsciously wanders to paranoid contemplation
The thought of harm done to my treasures from strangers or even a friend
It's because I'm trying to protect
Those whom I love with no regret
She and he and they
The people I'd never betray
I refuse surrender to the shadows that my mind was once kept
I can't disappoint the people that changed me into
a lion from a mouse
She's my fire that burns from within
Finally I can start anew and begin
To pick myself back up from these gutters
Thanks to those butterflies that flutter
I'm her knight and shining armor
I'll never let anyone touch her let alone harm her
That's how I keep pushing myself
It's because I have someone else
To love and to hold
That gives me the strength to always be bold
As pure as flying dove
I've got true love
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