Short Canister Poems

Every person is a gas canister,
loaded with pollutants,
goes battling against green earth....

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joyous fields shine bold
hallucination drug pen
canister breaks through
rainbow collects soft
happiness breaks tall...

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Where oh where does poop go in space
That shiny star you see may be just the place
Of a poop canister
From the ISS manager
Floating in the vastness of space we'll never erase...

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Where oh where does the poop go in space
That shining star you see maybe just the place
Of a poop canister
From the ISS manager
Floating the vastness of space we'll never erase...

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Toxic ashes 
and it's spit.
The crimson blood
of nuclear pits.

The deformities;
the tremors 
of your hate of life.

Your canister has ruptured
and your corpse will burn 
with the rest of us....

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Use Fans and Enjoy Tans

To overcome heat  we should use fans;
Marble has collapsed in hole use spans;
Shells in my canister;
Slide down bannister;
Have exact amount  of sun for my tan.

Jim Horn...

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Out in the open
That’s where real things happen
Not in a digital dungeon 
But where birds sing
Then inevitable evening
Canister and carronades
The flag is lowered
The candle fades  
A wisp, an ember
If not August
Pray September...

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Believe in the fire
See the flame in your eye
Gun fire
A shatter of the glass lens
Fear me!
Warped canister
What remains…
Smoke circle
UFO
Flying plane with no pilot
Tiger claw
Crunch
A new scenario
Hear these words!
Never play with the petrol canister...

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In 1968 I was filling my hope chest with embroidered tea towels.
I spent a week’s salary on a mushroom canister set in 1969.
Sears had a collection of mushroom kitchen items.
They were called the Merry Mushrooms.
I began embroidering new tea towels that matched the MMs.
Not realizing that mushrooms had anything to do with drugs....

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Fire is a spirit, 
crackling vibrations, 
sirring catalyst; 
force and energy 
of the midday sun.

I raced over 
mountains, caressed
hairs of strong 
forests and rolled 
over balling rivers.

But this dour 
fluorescence Is a 
used canister
rusting to dust 
where doting memories
of the midday sun 
lazy along the silver 
line into the 
grove of silence....

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Walking the straight path,
Tracks aligned, perfect symmetry.
Lifeless, soulless,
Limping in reality.

As an empty canister,
In the heart of a gale;
Swayed by every nudge, 
Trashed by every gush.

Within, that cunning confidence,
Deceiving blissfully. 
That senseless fool,
Believing indefinitely. 

Step by step
The soul disconnects.
This hollow frame,
Dissolving, decaying…losing the way.

-Titus Loh-

http://after-tim.blogspot.com...

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Running on cold dark streets lit by neon lights
We raced like thunder under a moonless night
A gang of four, bold lads we were
Doing what we did best without a care
Springing over fences with spray paint in hand
Unto our target, a yellow wall we planned…
to affix our mark and make a statement
Pressing down on the canister to our hearts fulfillment
Upon daybreak, the world can see
Skill of our hands, the beauty of... graffiti!...

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Rainbows, tree women, bonfires, unicorns,
Woodland creatures, faeries, Peter Pan,
Just some of the things I love
Mushroom canister sets, puffy flowers, yellow circles with black happy faces,
Gypsy clothing, hippies, peace signs, love beads, square blue granny glasses,
Just leave me in the 70’s for a bit longer please
My dreams take me places I need to be.
They help me believe in a world of hope.
And love and goodness.
Never wake me up....

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Orange paisley in the seventies prancing in my mind
Twisted up with lemons and avocados, fruit colors
Also shown in mushroom canister sets and Tupperware

On equal footing stark straight black and white stripes
Proving we are in a new age with additional freedom
I thought it was the most modern we would ever be

Not realizing we would eventually have the internet 
Home computers? Phones without cords? No idea.
I thought the seventies were the modern we would ever be....

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