Short Subterranean Poems

Light subterranean
Reflecting love unusual
Run in veins terrain....

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Phantom's Subterranean Vault
     By Dane Smith-Johnsen

Basement
Placement


Poetic Form: Footle...

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Stabbed subterranean with a feudal dart
Crackled, corroded and combusted on every part
Heart is the only part left apart....

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Now I've seen everything, a really strange alien
With four legs, four arms and an overly large cranium
Spoke in broken English
Skin kinda pinkish
Walked with a limp and preferred the subterranean...

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The head of a gargoyle
    rests in one hand
  the scent of olive oil
    aloft in the wind

  While elves make mischief
    in sweatshops subterranean
  guilt storms man's conscience
    'gainst backdrops Notre Damian...

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Patiently waiting in a line
eyeballed an wary
harsh barking of subterranean cultures
standing weary and inured
to the rotten
fug
the rotten
oxygen

inside the high walls and wire, the weighted stone of
the convicted

existing like convicts...

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there 
the love 
masterly 
weaves 
the norm of cannon 
inside to outside!

oh the bruise of heart 
won't be cured 
cause outsider love unsafe!

subterranean worlds 
the royal palace of heart 
where love lives with free will!



-18/11/19 CTG, BD...

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"the beat banned band"


no piccolo
or sopranino

nor no no not
sopranissimo

the hep and hip 
cats where it's at

play subterranean 
subcontrabass 

Doctor 
Sax

seen at and as 
part of the scene 

saying we'd 
be smoking 

and are the 
ContraBand...

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Mourning Commute

would be phoenixes
masquerade in Gotham
snowbirds alighting 
outrunning the cock's crow
leaving their respective nests
cold
huddled in subterranean tunnels
awaiting the next iron worm
three piece sardines 
breaststroking up steam 
in relentless pursuit of false promises...

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Once lit by flickering torch light 
with animal tallow mixed with ocher
daubed on subterranean rock walls
now lit by streetlights or LED headlamp
slashes of spray paint and magic markers 
splattered on concrete bridge abutments,
boxcars, or walls of tenement ghettos,
but the message is the same
we were here....

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Smallest of ants could be called a hexaped.

Ants by the millions spew from a subterranean bed.

Cast(s) of thousands work relentlessly to be fed.

Long hours of constant foraging or many go dead.

Shadows of their incessant hunger we face with dread!



For the "Smallest Ants Cast Long Shadows," contest....

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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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Here from the womb of a grave rose a carcass 
Stabbed subterranean with a feudal dart
Crackled, corroded and combusted on every part
Heart seems to be sizzled and left apart.

All mighty above started crying in the clouds 
Tears geared up the grimness and went gloomy 
Smiles sacrificed their superiority, 
saluted that venerated veteran of aspiring life....

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Hi, greetings earthlings, I can see and hear you 
Come one day soon we shall know one another

Your world is young, bright blue and yielding fruitful
My world is subterranean meph green void

I know how you live and what you like to eat
I see you space travel in your rocket ships

Maybe you shall reach my planet called Dreth
Stay awhile, then I go to visit your world....

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red thunderstorms
in the distance waves
of rain and air kiss
where are you now
wet micro busting
chaotic turbulence
destructive and intense
violent kisses on planes
are crashing debris
where are you
moving yellow jackets
stinging voyage of my
longing dangers of love
organic cabbage fields
rasping voice of subterranean
monsters blue night dropping
where are you

sep 15 2016
7.13 am...

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I am told there are many streams in the desert
In subterranean tunnels beneath scorching sands,
Where cool, refreshing waters constantly exert,
I am told, there are many streams in the desert.
And many a man has died in this realm of thirst
Some came to an unfortunate end by evil hands
I am told there are many streams in the desert
In subterranean tunnels beneath scorching sands.

written June 22, 2021...

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Freedom, flight.
Omnipotent? 
No, over what?
I am alone
In  this subterranean soulscape
It is heaven, it is me!
NO, WAIT!
ME?!
NO! I am still traped!
Accursed self-delusion, you hath given me hope!
How could you be so cruel?!
Now I can feel again… now I can burn.
I am infernal, PUT ME OUT!
My heart is not ice
I am vulnerable!
I must again turn cold
Again… I must kill
For if I kill, I am different
For if I kill, I am not them...

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Lo and Behold

A Subterranean grip

Alas a woman's mass appears in this Word Trip

She cries for Ahab to head ashore "Give the creature the slip"!

Avast a wide mast unfurls across the ship 

The Captain's cries for the harpoon are drowned out by the cracked whip 

The wondrous size of the White Whale appears from the drip 

The sheer weight of the beast causing the schooner to flip 

The showdown is on 

between Captain Ahab and Moby Dick...

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Slumbering woods bloom
under beetle plowed pulp.
Up above, 
the canopy is bare,
and sheds only white zero’s.

Beetles hum beneath the rot,
detonate inaudible chitinous chimes, 
troglodyte tones
under a dormant mulch.

Everywhere,
ambiguity buds open and close
in a subterranean flurry.

When the ice breaks its quash and quell,
they surface 
round and gleaming
to chase new laid morsels down;
their feeding 
turning earth for the seeding sun....

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Trickle tears 'pon velvet sand,
the desert evergreen,
sprouting forth in ushers;
waiting for the moon to see.

The greenest thumb of all,
isn't green;
It's gravity, the push and pull
the subterranean splurge,
whose words deluge;
...wafting in breezes.

Where scarce is emotion,
sorrow is a lake.
Where patient devotion is opaque;
It's transparency becomes infectious.

Upward.
Upward.
Reaching high,
where tears resign themselves
to die;
where the clouds are weeping....

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Exposed carbon shell
dead circuitry
our ancestral coronation
strewn on the floor
as pillar candles burn
with iconoclastic blight
we soberly sedate ourselves
before stepping onto
slumber's sepulchral stage
to act out subterranean chimeras
the radiating ecstasy
of being buried alive
and lo, the curtains descend
we are the dead birds
that soar with clipped wings
our cerebral silhouettes
engulfed in a
vulture's disease-ridden bowels
floating alongside scraps of
tarnished lacquer...

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