Short Disembodied Poems

Where our bodies be headed

  Where our heads be disembodied...

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Disembodied howls
Tunneling through the black night
My soul begs to rest



August 2014
© All Rights Reserved...

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october octave
seasonable spirit speaks
held by halloween

ghostly gibberish
a disembodied spirit
a spooky séance...

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Disembodied hands
Creeping up the alley way
Deadly spiders too
Poison snakes and scorpions
Crawling 'round on Halloween...

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I phoned the incontinence help line today
“I’m Mrs. Brown, can you help me pray”
But I was extremely disappointed to be told
By the disembodied voice that I should hold...

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Dreams are disembodied entities in need of being incarnated into concrete reality!







© Demetrios Trifiatis
    16 December 2018

* May your dreams come true!...

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disembodied from the crowd
they locked me from their thoughts
imprisoned in my psychic wall
i lost my mind within it all
and when left, my soul, it rots
never again will they be found

i am alone, and help cannot be found...

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Ghosts
Vengeful
Frightening
Disembodied
Souls

    31.10.20

Submitted 14.10.21

Ghost Lace Poetry Contest

Sponser Chantelle Anne Cooke...

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Confucius say, so does Tao,
So does Jesus, there is no woe,
Don't send dick picks on our phones, 
Gal bloomers don't get thrown,
Disembodied , magnets not,
Do grow up, you little grots,
Stay in touch, Confucius say,
F... off our phones today,
So does your ex-wife, so yah!...

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You stood with crossed arms
Pathways
up automatically
like greenhouse gas
rising
up and up
and disembodied voices
marking your progress.

Flashing signs mark the time 
that no-one else seems to feel
Subterranean thoughts
Sepulchral dreams spilled out
long masses of people march expectant
to the mouth of the mall
and herds feed at colourful stalls...

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    my disembodied i floats above 
      ego… id… superego 
    constructs psychological
      cum gravitas, or so they are told

    straining, clawing
      the drumbeat frantic
    as mine is subdued, 
      tenterhooks unglued...   

    the universal chord 
      syncing
    my pulse purring  


   ____________________
    September 23, 2024
   Cessation Poetry Contest 
       Unseeking Seeker
...

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Don't mistreat
             the Red...
              it is vital,
               it's blood,
                it's heart ...
                 Don't mistreat
                  love ... 
                   it comes from the heart...
                    If you don't have
                     heart you are
                      discouraged ...
                       Almost disembodied,
                        then... !...

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THE

                      END

Amidst the pulsating tumult of the End

  She sits …... calm ..… gentle ….. still

    Like the silent heart of the violent

       Storm that rages around her;

         A disembodied rose petal,

            Settled on the thorns.

              My heart is pierced

                  by a javelin of

                     tranquillity.

                      The End

                           ....

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Don't mistreat
             the Red...
              it is vital,
               it's blood,
                it's heart ...
                Don't mistreat
                 love ... 
                  it comes from the heart...
                   If you don't have
                      heart you are
                       discouraged ...
                         Almost disembodied,
                          So... 
                           beware of... !...

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Hybrid disassociation enveloping the realm of the brutal. 

Severed limbs rain from the sky, heads rolling the streets- A hell rejoiced by satins’ 
glorious army. 

Disembodied virtues, convoluted vision in a rhetorical era. 

Buried remnants of a societal refrain post due lay staunch in ruins of a untold text. 

Blood rages through the river as bludgeoned faces paint the streets of flesh and 
blood. 

Involute power reigns absolute, so begins the desolate landscape...

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THEN the skies bellowed a frothy glitter    and  d o w n  became up   &
sideways turned horizontally truthful
said the vegan Aardvark.

   THE Policeman chewed his m0uth-
side and a Red Ant crawled out from his nostril damn-us (Quatrain 173) &
   my pillow has luscious lips from some disembodied woman who once cared
for me.            The rest of this delirious

prose is buried in an unmarked book

within a discount store on the far 

side of the Moon.

::02.??.2020::...

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Skype tells me it’s your birthday, Polly Ross,
a disembodied message from the ether
that nipped me like a redback.  “Southern Cross” –
remember that?  So, hurl it in my teeth, or
delete me, tweet me, blank me, come across –
do what you will, I’m living with the loss.
You probably no longer give a toss.
If only I’d a cooler glamour-gloss,
could be more Aussie actor (Meller?  Heather?)
you’d see the gold, and set aside the dross.
I miss you, need you.  There.  But you’re the boss …...

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