Short Tubes Poems

she smiles like a star
the tubes do not spoil her joy
her magic moves me...

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shame on mickey mouse
he brought you through tubes and left
messed my head,so young...

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Artist Daniel Flavin
so florescent neat&trim
Tubes&neon in a darkened room
playing with effects & zoom...

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just thinks
wood Qtips
little further
thinks little about antibiotics 
further more
down the road
thinks tubes...

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One, two, three,
Look at the tubes sticking in me.
Four, five, six,
Nothing can be fixed.
Seven, eight, nine,
Now I am dying.
Ten....

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A woman will harness her boobs
Although they're the size of ice cubes
Because what girls see
Incites jealousy
And stuffing beats tying their tubes...

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Vacant bloodshot eyes
Stare at one spot on the wall
Feeding tubes and scrubs

I should let him die
Mercy killers dropped the ball
So I pull the plug...

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we are flying wingless
in the thin naked air
vibrations in the ear
blocked tubes of ardour
swallowing to release
roar of the engine
sky is sad today...

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Your tubes, the baddest guys in town,
They are big and bad, pink and brown.
Amazed by their egg dance,
No one else had a chance.
Fallopian tubes take the crown!...

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mom 
is comatose
tubes hooked up
on life support
words float
above you
they do not sink in
there is no registration desk
for the likes of them
on your own now
a world gone dark...

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OLD EQUIPMENT IN THE ATTIC 
COLLECTING DUST

HAVEN’T BEEN PLUGGED IN 
OR TURNED ON FOR YEARS

ENCRUSTED JOINTS AND TUBES 
AND FADED WIRES TURNED THIS WAY AND THAT 

DROOPING TO THE FLOOR
FOOD FOR VERMIN...

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Wind chimes ringing in the gentle breeze,
The sound puts my restless soul at ease.

I sit and listen to the metal tubes hitting together,
I think I could easily listen to this relaxing sound forever....

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Red raw 
Featureless flesh 
No eyes to see
No nose to smell
A hole for a mouth
Tubes to feed and breathe…

…Survivor of shotgun suicide*


For Ann's Suicide contest

*based on a tragic photograph I once saw...

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Providence 
When
 They tore down
The statue
Of the dictator
The remains 
Was two
 Rusty tubes
Hanging 
in their
What happened?
To the tube
We will never
Know
Perhaps 
They were used
As drain pipes...

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Meandering the river line 
Steam boats scrumptious dinner cruises
Otters playfully splash up fur
Fun people in circular tubes
Polished stones collected for artist craft
Fresh trout proudly caught, A campfire tonight...

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Green mother,
Pregnant with tiny flowers,
Spews her fertile core
Through living tubes
Into her infant sprouts.

Green babies
Rise and grow to flaunt
That certainty she bled
Through them for
Their final separation....

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I imagine a dense network of tunnels;        
malleable, hollow tubes narrowing        
then swelling - breathing a complex        
language beyond my comprehension.              
  
The synchrony is beautiful        
and I long to understand it....

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How privileged yet am I to be full free each end of May
in having still a long and lazy three-day holiday
of pigging out at barbecues and swilling dirt cheap beer --
plus snapping up big-screen boob tubes on clearance every year!



"Happy" Memorial Day!...

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We men on the sand kept our eyes averted and our laughter inside
As four corpulent women in super-sized inner tubes came in to ride.
When they jumped in together there was a tidal wave around us.
That was hilarious! Said my favorite friend, a cuss named Old Gus....

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some asked

some asked jesus to take them away
but we let them linger 
day after day
hooked to pipes and tubes
and bottles and jars
bound to their bodies
grounded on Earth when
they should be flying past Mars
soaring beyond Venus
and dancing with the stars…...

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Your skin like leather 
my bulletproof vest
inkling tubes 
tuxedo of flesh 
harness me
hand on chest 
in between sheets 
stringing me along like a kite 
refrained from taking advice 
whistle and jolt
the casual bubble bursts 
bleeding love
and
quenching thirsts...

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sleeping
I am lost in a world not my own
unknown
hot naked
twirled around
and yet you are there
as always
holding my hand

floating downriver
tubes on warm green water
rushing rushing
children ahead unafraid
unspoken
desire
you grasp my hand and we move on
down...

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Now absent from the body

relieved finally from wrenching tubes

Dad bade goodbye serenely leaving

last will with Scripture's assurance:

"In my Father's house 

are many mansions..."

*John 14:2 of the King James Bible

February 16, 2019...

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as I sit watching you,
making sure you're comfortable,
I'm praying that God's k9angels can't really fly,

holding your hand,
positioning mine between tubes,
filled with liquid life,

I pray your angel can't really fly.

I love you so,
But if you must go,
I'll pray for your angel to try....

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"We are tubes." She says.

I think of fish
who are a basic model
for our tubular forms,
how they swim
gulping themselves up
as they move forward.

Most don't talk of their bodies
as cylindrical,
as passageways.
I look at her
sucking a milkshake
up through a straw.

I love her tubes....

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