"The Padded Soft Cell"
Here they cover their mirrors
with garlands of poésies
to stop billabong reflections
pooling through
the inmates
congratulate each other
walking in slow dervish circles
Boston-two-stepping backwards ecstatic rituals
Anti-clockwise,
I told them to change channels
when words become mute
and mummify themselves
in the gadaidja’s
interminably
terminally blessed loud
soapbox sermon music
they b**ched their chomping bits
about it all for a while
I suggested with a pleasant smile
keep on their side of the shine
twisting their own twine
regulated patients,
disgraced and racing
chasing love, love chasing
all intrepid actors underexposed pacing
sometimes we smile here
within our padded soft cells
if the ghosts we read through walls
entertain us from their wells
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
"Films" (Remastered 2009)/ Gary Numan
https://youtu.be/6HbIGk6zH_k
Categories:
underexposed, muse,
Form: Free verse
Skies are sort of like people:
One can label them with the
same general nomenclature;
describe them all using basic,
prime colors while overlooking
the subtle hues of imagination--
I have always been more attracted
by what was just around the corner,
nearly in sight—like silk clinging
to a woman’s body, seeming naked
yet underexposed. Too often we
reveal more than is necessary--
way too much for anyone to keep
caring….
Categories:
underexposed, fashion, feelings, people, perspective,
Form: Free verse
They are void--
On empty- without
Emotions or compassion...
We keep feeding them with ours-
They take greedily-slurping
The foam off the tops
Of life's abundance.
Pretending;To feel something.
They interrupt your life with
An emergency-
Always exaggerating...
This or that-
Grand-standing then
withering
Like a Christmas flower -
Nerve wracking.
Get you all caught up-
Like a fire spitting dragon
They have nowhere for
Their souls to reside.
So they often change
Bandwagons
Like a concerned
Mother cat they drop
Their problems off instinctively-
To the ones whom appear to be
vulnerable and underexposed.
He assigns his burdens
Out like kittens-
With a reverse
entitlement
As we are to be
Grateful we were
Chosen to adopt
One of his problems
He is programmed to
Say "mam"--- A lot, as if
This makes-the deal
Official
like some
Overpaid C.E.O
Executive who
Has no intention
On solving problems
Or reimbursing
Your stolen money.
So void -so empty -
So pitiable are
These empty souls.
Today I am not
Feeling charitable
Please find someone else
To adopt your kittens.
And your wayward soul.
Categories:
underexposed, analogy, people, society,
Form: Prose Poetry
I awake royal blue
It fades to a teal
Just a different hue
To change my appeal
Come noon, neon yellow
Before long, an off white
For a moment I'm mellow
Seeing the light
Everyday, come supper
I'm as red as an apple
A weathered fixer upper
Splotchy and dappled
Much too often
My colors bleed out
I find myself caught in
A saturation drought
My contrast, I tweak
Adjusting my vibrance
For hidden hues, I seek
In hopes to enhance
Sometimes I find
I'm underexposed
I can't see when I'm blind
Or fix what doesn't show
In desperate moments
I click delete
Though the process is dense
Again, I'll repeat
Often I'll distort
Overindulge in a tone
An alternative port
Highlights blown
I manipulate emotions
With photoshop talents
My colors I blend
It's a daily balance
Categories:
underexposed, feelings,
Form: Free verse
One day,
I will walk out of my wounds
to stand before the scriptures
and kneel before the fire.
Why,
did I wait for the sun to rise
in fractured stasis of dark moon ?
My smiling mate ?
The rapturous beating of chest
by unclenched buds of shame,
after you slept with flame,
embroiled.
Licking the underexposed
gems of sins.
Satish Verma
Categories:
underexposed, art,
Form: ABC
The Earthen rock that beckons me by name
Shall keep my chamber guarded free
Alabaster and jade erode in shame
But stands to protest a place for me
For on the Earthen grounds, I rot
I am cast into the shadows seeking light
A cadaver that stiffens, I have fought
I cannot see through stolid eyes of filmy white
Where is the beauty that beckoned me
That song of white and winds
Was it a but a cryptic entity
And to jaunt as in death it sends?
Oh, pale aggregate of underexposed lies, smote
An embalming gleam in your eyes, smote!
Categories:
underexposed, death,
Form: I do not know?