Taken to task by a hot tripwire trap
hitting the ground I fell flat on my face;
My legs were totally frozen in place;
Landmines sat all connected to gift wrap,
charisma always leads to a mishap;
Explosions beneath that feather surface,
taken to task;
I fell down but then I aquired the map,
believe me I too left more than a trace;
I left my mark on this volatile space;
Remember a cornered cat too can slap;
Taken to task.
blue haze
mental acupuncture cliff
habitual word tripwire
(hiku a form of haiku with 16 syllables.
Did this only to enter a contest.)
Love Marriage divorce
mutual tripwire cocktails
think for yourself peace
Tripwire slumber hush
blank catastrophic soulstice
cashmere solitude slush
tangerine blue hue cocktail
last summer older brother
Does numbness set on fire
Sparks fly from a speeding tyre
Racing towards a funeral pyre
Cutting through snows crossfire
Ice can also start a wildfire
Crystal beads a mind occupier
Spilling over from eyes desire
High speed hitting tripwire.
26.12.2020
Parody of ‘Fire and Ice’
Robert Frost.
Time is a tightrope...a tripwire...a twisted toy in bloody barbwire
Time is truth...more or less...where the rich and the ruthless write the history text
Time dissolves inside of dark dreams where life blood spews like volcanic lava
from a billion broken wings
Time sings and screams its siren song...where long lost lovers keep
mindlessly searching on
Time ticks and tocks...slowly heating up hearts into hatred
The timebomb laughs...closing in fast...soon seconds turn sacred
Time is a tape measuring the madness in insanity inches...true ones over time
all turn to treason
Time itches to scratch the scarred and the stained...stabbing and shooting
like a million princes of pain
Time is acid rain in radioactive nuclear pink...just like a slaveship time now sinks
Time tells its tales in its own sour season...tangled up and torn far beyond
the reigns of reality and reason
Time is diabolical and destructive...tracing the signs...too tragic is times task
Time is a trickster wearing a grinning murdermask
Time is technology with a terrifying twist of traps
What time is it now?
Time never answers and time never asks
Mother buried hacked-up carp beneath
pink rose mallow. She knew the filthy cats
would come. A balled-up dirty rag
and coffee tin of smelly kerosene
were garrisoned behind a red berry twistwood.
Mother would hide in a column of shadow
near the porch. Ambush the cats as they dug
for carp. Their noses spiced with fish-oiled peat.
Tails flagged above puckered targets.
Mother was quick with her kerosene rag — spot on!
A hush-hush tripwire stretched taut round
the perimeter of mother’s mortared desperation.
The sacrosanct, lint-free, perfect world, where
she demanded God wipe His feet at her door.
Dear Mother, our Elizabeth Taylor dead ringer,
who could waltz with kings, or gut them with a glare.
Ghetto mother, who would murder to keep
her suburbs white, the cat crap gone, and
her prize mallow big as Frisbees. I couldn’t
let it storm on mother. She would get crazy
if her galvanized tin-roof mind was rattled.
Her daughter always had to shine. I kept
the attic window shutters well oiled. Mother
never heard my bare feet crisscrossing
the roof, as I ran to catch the rain.
tripwire with spiked barbs
two trite puns joined at the hip
slapstick jabs that bruise
I meander through dreams looking for you
cloaked by darkness, confusion
I traipse through tall prairie grass and dense forest
observing from the shadows within, you wait
soundless, stoic, statuesque
a bird of prey, talons ready
I stumble over your heart's protective tripwire
and I fall....from dreams to dawn
As I understand, it bloomed in your past
And lulled false security, teased the strings
Of your heart, cleaved through your immunity,
A hot blade through butter,
Then cast you aside, trod your love in the gutter.
Now armed with defences, tripwire nerves,
A shield of emotion, impregnable fears
Of history repeating, draped 'round your dreams
So they may not shatter
And I cannot break through to the heart of the matter.
Though I would not hurt you, how can you know
And reciprocate blindly, open the windows
To your soul, relinquish the armoury
And let me be heard:
I bequeath you my love, my promise, my word...
Octane rush and howls the surging blood,
Racing uncongealed, mercury switched and primed,
And in the veins detonates a nitro surge,
Swells the moon struck heart, ignites the tripwire mind.
Love boosts this eclectic turbo charging,
The muscle pistons thump the cage of bone,
Hammer wires of palpitating passions,
Play havoc on some heavenly xylophone.
She, when he draws near, internally explodes
For nothing can assimilate with this,
The crash and burn of love and blood and flame
Combusting in the seize of purest bliss.
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