Short Dissociation Of Poems

A sensual, lioness, with a poor constitution, hopes dissociation from her abode will repair the echo of her dreams....

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I’m on autopilot.
Surrounded by an unfamiliar climate.
I’m on the outside looking in.
Looking down at blurry skin.
It’s possible I could be dead.
I'm Just a small person in my head....

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Her

echo

seeking hope.

Lush sensual

dreams fill her abode.

Her constitution strong,

a dissociation from

her days of fear and trepidation.

The lioness within her is her pride....

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Unaware when the familiar became a blank stair.
The passage of time living a life so blind.
No life no feelings this reflection so chilling.
The breath of yesterday this gaze does take away.
A stranger how clear this reflection in the mirror....

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In my dreams
Paces a lioness
Footsteps echo below
Sensual her abode
In the jungle's glow

Ravenous, her gaze
A gazelle races by
If dinner, dismembered
Dry-bones' dissociation
Bloody cherry-pie
Dessert's constitution


        July 02, 2019
Another Eight-Word Challenge
        Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Kai Michael Neumann...

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i stare at my phone as my arms start to stretch, 
stretching so long that i cannot catch 
my brain, when it starts to pour,
pouring my memories all over the floor.
the floorboards like to creak whenever i’m near, 
nearing their senses for the pouring i fear,
i fear i’m lost, and cannot regain
the noodly arms and thing i call a brain....

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i stare at my phone as my arms start to stretch, 
stretching so long that i cannot catch 
my brain, when it starts to pour,
pouring my memories all over the floor.
the floorboards like to creak whenever i’m near, 
nearing their senses for the pouring i fear,
i fear i’m lost, and cannot regain
the noodly arms and thing i call a brain....

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the streets today are meaningless
discouraged and the signs withdrawn
the sun is at night and the sound pulsates
on the opposite side of children
your neon sign says nothing city
there is no light in ocean or more
if you had a voice what not
or speak aloud little 
to explain all almost 
and repair the complete faults
of this nothing or world...

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There is always another collusion- 

That feels like a collision of promises that were made to me. 

This deception becomes stale. 

And even though I have come to expect it-

I am still easily captured. 

Because right before the dissociation is complete-

I feel the need to lash out one more time. 

Just to let them know what they are about to lose....

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Fragmenting the oscillatory destiny, bounding amongst damnation. Tyranny divine 
halts a bullet mid shot to incite havoc throughout your skull, slowly dissolving reality. 
Beneath a sensuous veil the vivisection allures a prophetic dissociation. A cryptic 
dissension of virtues hidden, poisoning infecting scathing. All angles considered yet 
am I trapped willingly?...

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I want to be a runaway
my mind tells me when I watch

My parents do it
I think to myself
why am I here anyway?

I want to be a runaway
from my mind that stays with me

I want to do it to
runaway myself
what use am I anyway?

my mind wants to be a runaway
it tells me as they watch me

I can see doing it
I say crying for help
why be here another day?...

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The gaze of strangers grills me to perfection
and I stew in all my fat.
It burns; I roast; I char into numbness.
I float around the carcass 
as cooked sinew and boiling juices.
My being discarded with the offal
My skin is fried 
I punch my thighs
but my fists go through tender meat.
I lay here as a shell of what I could be
My thoughts beyond the galaxy
You'll never find me...

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Lost in world of dissociation 
Dreaming of past that forgotten
Visions of real no eye that meets
Wonders of world of defeat 

Knocking back and forth
Count to ten real world again 
Voice to speak grown up times
Dream again of forgotten crime 

Hands to cup cracks that leak
Uncover the puzzle missing piece 
Shout as loud no words that reap 
Detach in time the life repeats...

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Life can recognise
Caste, religion and colour-
A disease of three symptoms:
Caste is engaged with skirmish,
Religion flares up with sudden
Intensity of furiousness, and
Colour creates dissociation.

None but DEATH is constant:
He never plays the role of an actor,
He never does judge on caste, religion And colour:
He believes that there is no gap
Between the palace and the hut....

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With constitution of a lioness-
her hope- to echo loud sad roars for dreams
that still abode inside her consciousness-
with strong dissociation of regimes
where capture killed her sensual success.


July 11, 2019

Premiere Contest: Another Eight-Word Challenge 
Sponsor: Kai Michael Neumann

Required words in order of appearance: 
constitution, lioness, hope, echo, 
dreams abode, dissociation, sensual...

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This feeling of disconnection-

Is a part of the aftermath that I cannot explain. 

It is as if I am being haunted by a part of me that is still innocent. 

It is as if I am being chased by guilt that belongs to someone else. 

Promises that I never said out loud.

That I eventually forgot in the haze. 

I wonder how many times one person can be revived. 

Before there is nothing left of them to undo....

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Blackest night is my heart
into its depths I can not see

All my life is mists of gray 
nothing plain for me

I look deep into your eyes
and know what we had is gone

And still I see the shadows of love lost...
and wish it not bygone

Perhaps I will never learn,
at least that's what some would say

And all my life, wishful thinking
controlling all my days

The dilemma of dissociation (C) 1986 Susan Manley ...

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Sensual as my dreams she enters me 
with a silent roar pinned between 
two amber eyes of dissociative chit 
I can feel her constitution her fugue 
of dissociation, she is but an echo   
of my pulsing memory and heart abode

She is the lioness inside of me 
 her 
            roar, 
is the pantomimed hope of my 
well being and solemn oath of 
            sanity. 

7/7/2019
Another Eight Word Challenge
For Kai Michael Neumann...

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Siren Song

“My aching bones protruding desire; 
My mind overtaken by time immemorial. 
A wasteland of dissociation, barren yet flourishing
With fruitful anamnesis of a necromantic epoch; 
Oh Poseidon- how I long for home. 
To endure the Fateful death song that spills from these lips, 
Our sweet entanglement transforms to unity; 
Sweet Liberation! My deliverance is in your aqueous grasp!
Dulcis Mortem- liberare eos de vincula vitae.”

~ NC...

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