sea is turbulently stormy this darkened night
eyes watch in awe, wonder and fright
anchor secured holds passenger ship tight ~
Despite endless attempts to avoid it
We can't sidestep it forever
At one point or another
We all sail into stormy weather
When your ticket gets punched
You'll be flooded with sadness
Turbulently twisting and turning
In a constant state of madness
Next comes the hardest part
Your ticker just can't take it anymore
Furiously feeling the crack in your heart
Misery making you crumble to the floor
Dragged down into the depths of despair
Searching for a watershed moment
Surely there is a solution out there
To put your pain into postponement
Fortuitously stumble upon a toolbox
Time to tune up your heart
Grab the Elmer's glue for the fracture
Then duct tape other pieces that fell apart
Subsequently realize who sent the repair kit
Sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, fathers, and mothers
All chipped in to cobble it together because
Heart splinters get sealed with love from others
In sprinkles and drizzles the Summer's rain
Dampens and caresses the soil to slake
The arid grass and the seedling - make
Pleasing ,charging things eagerly to regain
The latent quintessence of the vital drive
Again ,in delicate vibrations to deliberate
The spirit of all withering things to ameliorate
Like the fainted frame coming up alive ;
The puzzle tickles the wavering uneasy mind :
In greater form and the giant waves slapping ,
The sweet saviour beats turbulently flapping
The sands and rocks in the stretch of any kind ;
Likewise is Love the emotive lore of humanity
Immense and complete within limits of sanity .
Your thought-balloons are filled with wild and magical freedom ~
until madness seizes your think tank
trapping your ceaselessly chirping ideas
within the teeth of its snapped steel-jaws
refusing to relinquish you; lest you chew up and spit out your mind-racing brain
ire over this cognitive quagmire is quite understandable ~
like the murmuration of startled starlings
amassing in angst and taking wing
your thoughts, your second thoughts and afterthoughts
gather in pulsating dark masses
swirling into flight and shifting directions
turbulently twisting into tornadic spins
unable or unwilling to unravel and unwind
as they hurl themselves
in a pessimistic panic
through the maze of gray matter minefields
not wanting to explode their legs-to-stand-on should they alight...
...and despite butterfly nets vying to capture them
they are whirling dervishes twirling out of control --
holding your damnation in a state of suspended animation
Susan Ashley
March 24, 2018
The Demons I dream of
are far, far worse
Than those you might face
once you ride a hearse;
Even more ghastly,
more ghoulish, and foul,
Than any endeveavored
out of someone's mouth.
The Demons I dream of
are deranged and desperate,
They gleam of the strangest
desires that I've met.
The demons I dream of
are obscure infections,
What scares me most is
they bear my reflection.
The demons I dream of
are merciless hosts,
The worst of their kind,
I don't mean to boast;
But they tantalize,
tamper, and tittilate,
Turbulently, enough
that no man could take,
And now I fear sleep,
for reasons disclosed;
These demons I dream of
are darker than most.
Fashioning the favourable foul,
Cutting the caustic cordial,
Rearing a rabid recall.
Pardon the potion
When blind and blundering
We fathom the favourable foul.
String along the slug
When casually and crazed
We concede the caustic cordial.
Split the sauce
When tardily and turbulently
We receive the rabid recall.
Behold the botheration of the booze!
Jilt the jitters of the jug,
Surrender the stress of the spirits.
Do this in the name
Of the bright, the blue
And the holy camera eye.
Amen.
© 2016 Margo Cami [www.margocami.com]
one night stand of
smooth & absolute
dark
walnut
finish
(once soaked & lathered in
varnish, no doubt)
sits in the corner of the bedroom
reminding of the
madcap,
turbulently unbridled &
dare
one
might
say,
violent
pillow fight
had between two laughing teenagers
bursting with
energy,
in the attempt to drown out the
uncomfortably
cacophonous
sounds being produced by
two
consenting
adults
engaging in rough sex in the neighboring
apartment.
He scaled Ascension mountain,
stood lost upon
a monument of stone.
Stared out across the
bare Death Valley sweep,
eyes hooded, all alone.
Beneath an eagle beat
throughout cauldron haze,
majestic wings.
Blurred and shimmered,
ruling like an airborne
king of kings.
He stood over him,
down looking until
his long shadow was stole.
On the eagle spine,
swooping low,
ferried his living soul.
With him took
all of his dreams
into the desert sky.
With him took
all of his mind
raised his spirit high.
With him took
his life and times,
turbulently spun.
On the eagle spine
ferried his soul
into the heart of the sun.
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