Isn’t that you smiling from your abyss
Devoid of anything found and missed
Caught in the middle to lose at both sides
Watcher of time with its high and low tides
Doer of nothing and listener of rain
Living through ages you dared to attain
There you sit in your saggy armchair
There you think of what nobody cares
Anyone who is alive seems fed up
Those who are dead never drank from your cup..
1.
Blown to pieces
It ended
Hook, line, and entrails
The blowfish
Puffed harder out
Than it should have.
2.
Cone stared back
At red squirrel
They chased each other
‘round the fir.
Not that it matters much:
The squirrel
Always wins.
3.
No one hears
The rubber scream of worms
Quite lengthy and horrid
One may add,
When robin slurps
Morning mud.
4.
Trailing behind
Bird
Was snake
And right behind them
An old man
With a poem.
5.
Subtle she was not
An old eyeless racoon
A stump left for a paw.
Her saggy skin and rattling bones
Sweeping the forest floor.
We had not canoodled for ages,
we washed bed linen,
sloshed saggy skin with surgical soap,
put on face masks
(rubber gloves were optional),
but they did remind us
of more risqué days.
We had old people sex -
less frantic, more careful.
I think I heard God laughing
as we both encouraged
slow-fuse orgasms
that declined to arrive together.
At our bedside
a stretched-out chocolate lab
huffed, a little bollixed,
as if overhearing
two hamsters exercising
on the same training wheel.
Not for nothing am I something.
My alter-ego absent-mindedly swats a fly
from the tip of its nose.
The hard stool I am sat upon squirms,
if it had one more leg it might have left the room.
Take you for instance, your unfounded faith
in reality,
it's always changing,
your life is a changing room,
your clothes never fit, and your choice of hats
attracts the attention of interdimensional aliens,
who, as we all know,
are always looking to nest somewhere.
I think the chair needs to take a dump, it's straining
under my weight, and my alternative persona
is now sneezing uncontrollably.
I bolt for the door, chasing after my soul,
which suddenly has decided to take a vacation
far away from my
hard to explain, presence.
"Reality shall not be infringed". I yell.
A saggy skin is turning gray -
fingers, long and thin,
hang below my ankles in disarray.
I should like to try more time-travel
but shockingly,
I think this is the end of the line.
When playing basketball
being tall is best it's thought
but that's not all
wearing saggy baggy shorts on the court
needs keen hand-eye coordination
plus being fleet of foot
and have no quibble with dunk or dribble
if through the hoop a Wilson you wish to put.
As for American football
boring from the sideline I find
it's more talk less action
namby-pamby as opposed to rugby
which is wilder less calmer
and without all the body armour
now there's a game with some traction.
America's pastime baseball
is another matter
whether pitcher or batter
with Rawlings or Slugger
when on the mound I have found
unlike soccer or rugger
before a ball the hurler throws
and the pitch is hit or caught with a mitt
first rearrange the private parts in public
twitch the cap and then spit.
She gave way for you,
Hard time breathe for you,
Sleepless nights for you,
Under the blooming sun for you,
In the sobbing rain for you,
With her saggy body 'cuz of you,
Stifling and reshuffling her melancholy 'cuz of you,
Trapped in a room lit with arrogant love 'cuz of you,
In the state of feminine violation just for you,
Tied in her weary back for hours just you,
She screams when prey, to hurt come to you,
She calls every moment to know haven is for you,
She is always here for you,
Ever mother, ever mother for you.
I send you roses today, my dear
For the sun is clear
And my heart is fair.
My love letter to you, I feared
Is long gone undelivered
It's outdated, here in my heart is reserved.
How time flies, years gone our marriage
Thickened by hardship and with some baggage
We carried on together our lives we still manage
Now, have we outgrown, of Peter fans and winds, how lively
Of white hairs, of saggy skins has shown, how shiny
Having pass all therein the test of time, we breath so lovely.
Suddenly
when melancholy arrived,
she engraved the words 'sad'
deep into my manic mind.
Then abandoned me in
a pit of sinister silence.
Who turned out the lights
inside the moon?
Now the horizon looks like tar
and the voices become louder.
Every morning is a miserable melody
in this malady of heavy sighs.
I strum the invisible strings
of my mourning mandolin,
but they keep on weeping
in a chilling refrain,
as each note cuts deeper.
Now my bed is like a crimson river,
soaking in stains of regret,
as daggers of stubbornness,
stab like unspoken words.
These tears taste so acidic.
Eyes feel saggy with dark circles,
like droopy, decaying flowers and
I don't know if I'm tired
or aging too quickly,
so they remain closed.
Time ticks too slowly,
as I remain in stillness,
with a hollow cocoon heart.
Its shell full of cracks,
waiting for happiness to
knock on the door.
A boob who was rather naggy
Said to its mate we're too saggy
Without more support
I'm afraid dear cohort
We're nuts in pants that look baggy
i got a ghostly
mostly moist handful of you
i got a mind
that's top heavy with you
it spills over with you
leaks you
I pant like a Parisian poodle for you
my baggy saggy heart
is packed to the hilt with you
my soggy boggy parts
pine for you
you told me to go to hell
and i went for a while
but came back
with a picture of you
tattooed all over my eyes
and
there were hot flames
under my hots
for you
also my burning boots
and socks
this day i dedicate
to my loss of control
my needy desperateness
my unrestraint
my ill-advised
madcap
rash and heedless
love
i celebrate you
and the fact
that you don't give a damn for me
maybe you will come around
change your low opinion of me
shoot the breeze with me
so for now dearest
please put down that shotgun
She has red lips and dimples
round rabbit eyes
brushing hair
waving over a broad forehead
is coming
her slender legs are long
The ends of skirt sway over lap
Her waist is an ant's
Her breasts are making the softest curves
Her neck is neither long nor short, neither thick nor thin
Her face is as round as an egg
Her nose is neither arrogant nor servile
she come closer to me
moment passing by me
But my eyes still following her
i fall over I stand up without shame and raising head
Then a woman standd in front of me
sat down clouds from the blue sky
her head and saggy shoulders
Broken and worn jacket blowing in the wind
and hold in her right hand
She leans on an old cane
She takes a step that is difficult to take even one step
catches a breath for a while
she talks to me
a furoshiki in left hand
As she lays it down at my feet
she talks.to me
"Can you deliver this to my daughter in front of us?"
i get her gift
I take her hand and start following her
keeping the best distance.
Stomach in knots
Knots of doubt
Knots cursing at my anxiety
Sweating into panic mode
Thoughts racings
Praying no one knows
Is it obvious I gotta shet?!
I’m mad my stomach bubbling
I’m mad I can’t hold this shet any longer
I gotta shet away this pain
Pain of not good enough
I’m not worthy
Why I’m so chubby
Why my ass so flat
My body not society standards
I gotta shet the worry away
The worry’s of tomorrow
My 401k plans meeting my retirement quota
Dodging being pulled over while black
My fellow sister keeping her foot on my neck
Rejected from opportunities to prosper
Being judged on my natural hair
Will he love my stretch marks
Saggy skin
I gotta shet the sadness away
Sadness that I can’t win
Win to get ahead in life
I’m always coming up short
I’m labeled trash compared to a foreigner
I’m going shet this color shame away
I’m shetting the anxiety away
Knots lighting up
Shet this load off my back
Released the blockages
Walking down the street
My head hung low in defeat
Stepped in out of the cold
Guess I'm getting kinda old
Put my self in a cage
Trying to beat the rage
Must be my age
Bodies feeling kinda saggy
My tail not so waggy
As I'm shaking off the cold
Feeling not so bold
Looking around I see
People no better off than me
Hard times are here
Looking around I see fear
What are we going to do
When there no food to chew
No roof over our head
Done been kicked out of my bed
Feet tired of walking
Ears tired of the talking
Looking for a job
But I look like a slob.
Can't find no shower
So I smell like no flower
Seems like the end of time
So I make up this silly rhythm
Just to ease my mind
Take what ever break you find
Just to get by.
When the cost of living is so high
the years have added
to my patina in ways
that were not pre-approved
they crept up
one saggy whimper
one tiny wrinkle at a time
sly and sneaky
perfidious and insidious
emphatically inclined
till one day barely recognizable
the years took their toll
adding much to my patina
AP: 3rd place 2023, Honorable Mention 2022
Though we will never meet
she enters my dreaming mind
walks into a room for two
and I know she is mine forever.
Guardian angel, Guardian Goddess,
Guardian reader?
Nope, she's a dog,
a saggy jowled Blood Hound
I name Betty.
We walk the wooded ways,
we spend the days in any weather,
alone with nature.
One day she will be human
and maybe I the dog,
so until we are put down
or raised up
we will travel side by side,
then perhaps
we will reincarnate together,
as real as any Disney cartoon
only better.
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