Short Corpuscle Poems

Fingers tangling dry strands 
Jostle soft fleshes with pained puffs
Dipping tar suffocating airways
Wrenching fabrics carving curses onto corpuscle
Taking
Pulling
Grabbing
Pushing 
Stabbing
Shoving
Reducing into a pile of nothing
Ridiculed into a lump of worthless
Rejected into a mass of hollow
Remorse into a jumble of Woman....

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Pohutukawa tree I wonder
Which of man’s endless bloody battles
Planted you here?
Your venous red needle flowers
Drop to the ground below
Where they lie in corpuscle puddles

Whose mothers are they I wonder?
Lying in the branches
Morning the senseless loss
Of their loved sons and brothers

Pohutukawa tree
Reminder of war’s terrible cost
So Pohutukawa tree be
Keeper of the peace...

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I wanted to cry loudly
But i could not make any sound
So I keep crying silently
Crying and crying
But could not shed tears
Instead shed fresh drops of blood
It is invisible from outside
Every organ inside has swelled
And every drop of corpuscle clotted
The wounds are getting wider
Deeper and numerous, too
No healing is in sight
As if , like many men suffering is my destiny ....

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The large cigarette burn i n the sky
Scorches an unforgiving landscape,
Aging the ideas of mankind. 
This corpuscle of bubbling pus
Cloaks the world with its runny yoke,
Which stains a blue plate.
Breakfast - 
Sustains a gluttonous body,
And warms the vast belly
Of ice tundra and desert sand
Which bathe in the ashen grains of time,
Until the fire dies,
And its light stubbed out in an ashtray,
By a little, geriatric man
Who has puffed away at our dreams....

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