Dilated pupil captures a partner with her submission
Above sadness, eyes sea sunk in upset unquenchable
Desperation lodged in lagoon swims to 2021 surface
Air refilling deflated lungs floats a Goldi locked trophy
Drawn from decaying pages of housewife magazines
Overtly womanly hip to waist ratio cinched on display
Empathy white tidal wave, compassion washes angst
Surrogate heart fed off rise fall arousal bursts buttons
Nostalgia learns Stu's language, sucking word marrow
Omens of history trip a mirrored future, path predicted
Sorrow entangled sheet furrows, wrath burrowed deep
Trauma not lost thru lustful aggressor swamp syphon
Welcome fragrant frail pale spurs a sturdy demeanour
Enveloped open emotions compel his chest responds
Lechery leaves detail aside, abides with blind present
Longing to cast away loneliness, romance sails rough
8th February
Dictated by Wharf air (after warfare)
DADA DOES NOST WELL
Categories:
syphon, age, anxiety, beauty, crush,
Form: Free verse
My private universe
resides far beyond the cosmos
and into galaxies yet unfound.
Man’s mortal eye
cannot appreciate
the vastness of beyond.
My private universe
encompasses all, yet nothing.
It is much too profound to contain.
No human sought
to walk moist, spongy shores,
none to drink its knowledge.
My private universe
oozes with untold adventure
and pictures of never-before-seen
frames from my mind.
Caricature creatures
silently syphon words,
Unfitting to exist.
Categories:
syphon, fantasy, imagination, introspection, self,
Form: Free verse
Smart Progress
They did an excellent job of making their inventions work so well
Give them a pat on the back and a gold medal
Their inventors and designers are the best and proud of their work
It's a long list of things, here are a few:
Nerve gas that kills without mercy
Smart bombs that never miss their target
Guns more powerful than the previous generation
More efficient machines to steal our planet's resources
Better killing techniques for soldiers and secret agents
More capable spying software to syphon up our data
All of this and more are part of our world and exist
Not something from a Bond film or Clancy novel
Reality obliterates fiction just like it does people
Will you be a victim of a new lethal invention?
Categories:
syphon, history, science, technology,
Form: Blank verse
The lack of a single-word inflammable
in our lanterns is what is killing me
this morpheme
A single workday for all
Inflammables is what God is doing tonight
This is just one of many adages
to have passed through the garments
Previously on this shriek they put
a peartree back together wrong
after its demise
Something
there was in the syphon
Poor tree could feel it in his bonsai
Categories:
syphon, crazy, math, poetry,
Form: Free verse
The battlefield within
a swirling whirlpool of delayed rage
comes at last for
the inner child voice
screaming .... why?
Why soul murderer
father, mother, uncle, brother
priest, doctor, three-piece suit
creeper incest keeper
tide breaker...
Mind curtain masks
the unsettled
soul-body certain of sound
that trigger flows
in the dark.
Pictures swirling syphon
through a membrane
of synapses power
deafening thoughts
that scatter waves.
Breathe,
breathe the wave
memory-locked baggage
traveling from its horror cave
into tomorrows hope
of healing.
PTSD ...
oh how sweet silent
will the Silence of Heaven be,
and will I know it
when I get there?
Categories:
syphon, angst, introspection, life, recovery
Form: Free verse
Standing, with feet lodged in concrete,
at the edge of a precipice-
Syphon of air fallen away underneath
to broken boulders, rocks of words gone by
Not a moment left to lose
to catch the infernally fleeting
and flittering "why"
The palms of the hands, being greased with kindness,
are slippery flaps of butterfly wings
too weak to reach out and grab the elusive -
immovable feet and the trouble they bring
A torrential avalanche breaks above head
with spiraling white and pounds of emotion
stretching on tiptoes to flee the impending
shut in the mouth with an unending quiet
Standing, with feet lodged in proverbial
silence, of simply being too stiff or too tired to move
No words to save what was once found as priceless
packed under skyscraper pieces of moon
in rock, debris, snow turned glass white
and the infernally fleeting and flittering "why"
this precipice grants us to do or to die.
Categories:
syphon, people, words,
Form: Free verse