Short Worming Poems

moss smelled me coming
i felt her under my bare toes
she gave me a tickle
we played a forest dance
me giant, her worming around tree
the best tango...

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Conflict of the conscious 

 There things
We don`t want
To remember
It is there buried
Under layers
Of lies
Yet like a worm 
Worming its way
Through 
Mud 
It tries to force
Us to see
To confront oneself
Is a hard thing to do...

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There is a worm
does not live in soil
bowl of animals it lives not
it cannot be in a cage
left loose, free to roam
it eats big bulls
even lions it chews quickly
elephants are too small
plantations collapse at a strike
whole nation it destroys
de-worming tablets are nothing
they make it fatter,  tougher
fire brigade is only solution...

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Under wounded light
I go back in time.
Pushing up doubts
Like bottle corks,
Worming to the point,
Knowing not what I seek,
I cross the bridge I am building to who-knows-where.

The past parades around the present
As I stand with eyes downcast,
Forgetting to look to the trees,
Where freedom flows like raindrops,
And the answer awaits like the sea....

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Right forget the imagination
Start in the dark
worming the earth as a snack
Once had a dream to be twice
I like colours or might have been something i Red
We can't forget
even stupid questions
sometimes deserve a stuppider answer
don't you
Which words EnTIce
Some simmer like the mist that hums the street lit shore
Innuend though
Personal i think wisps is untouchable...

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The morning night thunder-shone
The bright stars fractured me
You in sudden surprise
Whirling in your misgivings
Baby gulls sit on our heads
And we weep forgetting to be merry
Broad is the scope of infinity
Meet me in brackish waters
Death to focus
Death to style
Come worming up to the hole
Peacetime summer reds
I can eat a clock and dream of orangutangs
Forgive these latches
Remove them
Remove them...

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Who could be content 
with this wretched world

religions bribe

death; bovine silence 
tears at my beating red heart

without passions arc 
there would only be rational thought
and grizzled earth 
arctic cold

poetry beats the gravity
of this rock
deepens the mouth of inspiration
worming through
the machinery of desperation
like Jesus floats

eloquence it's revenge
a helpless idol...

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Lithesome words like ‘love’, ‘loyalty’
And ‘liberty’
Lie, like mollusks on the sea
Bed; closed clam shut
Not revealing
Anything but
An unctuous feeling
And when prized open
By a devouring question
The contents give one
Indigestion.
So let’s not swallow
Such squirming terms
These loathsome, lithesome, worming words.
Meaningless and absurd
But if they are our sole default,
Let us take them with a pinch of salt.

© Barry Freeman – 18th September 2020...

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Ominous fear, hate of formless things,
squirms unbidden
to the surface of an unboxed grave
worming its way upward.

Fear not
are worms not of God?
Give shape the formless fears.
Disperse the miasma.
Confront the horror,
known and unknown
for are they not all creations of God?

Drive forward on butterfly wings
leave the cocoon of fear
the worms discontent.
Free mind and spirit
from the villains of despair
let sunshine flow 
through the arteries of man....

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