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Anon Umus Poem
Across the ice the players skate around,
Defensemen, goalies, wings and refs abound.
The stands are packed with fans with cups of beer,
The pucks invade the nets to raucous cheer.
Copyright © Anon Umus | Year Posted 2015
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Anon Umus Poem
Mild winter breeze
Gossiping kind promises
About a warm spring
Copyright © Anon Umus | Year Posted 2015
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Anon Umus Poem
Epiphanic jubilance as you begin exerting pharmaceutical control over your mental chemistry. You start to see that radiant joy, manic despair, mild boredom and every other “feeling” are merely patterns of chemiconeural-synaptic-firings—patterns that are now under your control. You’re the Head Mental Music Composer. And now you’re turning the broken cassette tapes of trite cover-band grunge beats into a live-blasting supernoval symphony of Mozart on crack:
Shift all incoming experiential data to a cosmic perspective of organismal meta-consciousness…Species consciousness…Genus consciousness…Family Consciousness…Order Consciousness…Class Consciousness…PHYLUM Consciousness…KINGDOM CONSCIOUSNESS!
Blast-off. Simultaneons of Valhalla perspection. Words have ceased to mean. You are now communicating directly with the laws of physics. Your thoughts are angels that fly with wings of ethereal mega-competence.
Copyright © Anon Umus | Year Posted 2015
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Anon Umus Poem
Allowing great alembics access over hill and glade and brush and dale of mind and swimming softly through the river running up fantastic meadows speckling valleys round the bay ensconced by lighting strikes and thunder booms across the Roman sky above the Irish ground and all throughout the savage peasant towns of lies of great and small import but all the time of luscious past and pregnant present and the future’s wide embrace of mighty life.
Copyright © Anon Umus | Year Posted 2015
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Anon Umus Poem
It’s time to
Blast off
To cast off
Cares and fears,
Snares and tears.
It's time
To heal, unwind
To steel your mind
And steal the show
Now GO!
Copyright © Anon Umus | Year Posted 2015
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Anon Umus Poem
I toss and turn and lay awake
Inviting dreams to come and take
My mind to some enchanted place
Where cares and worries get erased;
But no erasing: just a racing mind.
I wish and pray for sweetest sleep—
Ah, even if a nightmare creeps
Inside my peaceful, placid head
It would be better than this dread;
This dread inside my head: with worse ahead.
If I could only stop and rest
Imagine how much I’d be blessed!
But no: Anguish multiplying,
This sanity…stultifying:
I think my thoughts have their own ideas.
My cheery outlook saddening,
And slowly growing maddening—
……………………………………………
…While there’s a badness…in sadness,
…Is there a…gladness…in…madness?
HA! I choose the LATTER! MAD HATTER!
splatter
Copyright © Anon Umus | Year Posted 2015
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Anon Umus Poem
Brown late winter slush
Wrapping roads in lukewarm hugs
Gloomily cozy
Copyright © Anon Umus | Year Posted 2015
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Anon Umus Poem
I tried,
Poured in heart and soul,
Swung for the fences,
Chased the dream
With everything inside.
(And then some.)
Thud.
Strike out.
Guess you could say I failed.
No, I’ll say it: I failed.
It scorched me,
This failure,
Blue-hot,
A royal-blue inferno.
But the blue began
Receding into red,
Where for a day
It lingered
Before the failure settled
On its present shade of orange.
Oh, it’s still hot,
Don’t worry:
There’s no Hallmark card here.
But you know what?
It’s a charming color,
Orange.
I think
I’ll stay here awhile,
Stoke the flames,
And save this hue.
I’ll make a torch with it,
To find my way out
Of this dark,
And light a different fire.
Copyright © Anon Umus | Year Posted 2015
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Anon Umus Poem
I really like to sit and rhyme;
It really helps to pass the time
Between our next enchanted night
Of twisted, carnal, sweet delight.
I know you think you’re just a lay,
But now you know: I’m here to stay.
It’s so much more than just your ****;
Your jokes and gags have me in fits.
It’s so much more than just your ass:
I really dig your sense of class.
I know it hasn’t been that long,
I know the timing’s not the best,
But man, these feelings sure are strong;
You’re so much different than the rest.
Copyright © Anon Umus | Year Posted 2015
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Anon Umus Poem
I graduated from Murphy’s Law School:
Anything that can go wrong will go wrongfully accused, I suffered a public
Scornucopia.
Copyright © Anon Umus | Year Posted 2015
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