clear-conscience - Hello Poetry

this is how the poetry bows out the tying of the tongue, fingertips are shaved, nubbed, heart seized, it rhyming ceased, veins are dammed, arteries blocked, the emotional fled, to a wild wind wed, this is how the poetry bows down ‘n out the remainders, sticky stuck, viscous, through small pore filters they leak, with the soap and the sins, all drained, the shower uses holy water to no avail, this is how the poetry bows down ‘n out the brain cognitions loss, realizing a release ending, time sensitized, the mantelpiece badly cracked, each of the body’s words in reliquaries hidden, the other worldly acquaintances greet him joyously, commence a choir chant, a motet centuries old, this, this! is how the poetry bows out

0

Jul 28, 2020

Jul 28, 2020 at 10:26 AM UTC

this is how the poetry bows out

this is how the poetry bows out the tying of the tongue, fingertips are shaved, nubbed, heart seized, it rhyming ceased, veins are dammed, arteries blocked, the emotional fled, to a wild wind wed, this is how the poetry bows down ‘n out the remainders, sticky stuck, viscous, through small pore filters they leak, with the soap and the sins, all drained, the shower uses holy water to no avail, this is how the poetry bows down ‘n out the brain cognitions loss, realizing a release ending, time sensitized, the mantelpiece badly cracked, each of the body’s words in reliquaries hidden, the other worldly acquaintances greet him joyously, commence a choir chant, a motet centuries old, this, this! is how the poetry bows out

18

don’t work no more. need some kind of distraction. **** it, might as well try writing bad poetry.

0

Jul 26, 2020

Jul 26, 2020 at 8:29 AM UTC

*** drugs, liquor and rock ‘n roll

don’t work no more. need some kind of distraction. **** it, might as well try writing bad poetry.

4

the democratic convention under the deck ——————————————————— all kinds have registered their displeasure with the arrival of the human menagerie, their boisterous ways, jive not with the quietus of the island paradise, and under the shady deck where the convention conversations are held... open to all but the factions forming, squirrels most populous, demand the gavel and the chairmanships, because they breed best, knowledges of the yard terrain, par excellent, have climbed every tree, show no fear, boldly jumping on the chaise lounge occupant by the lady of the house, quizzing her with a side-tilted glance of what are YOU doing here???? they like their acorns from the Oaks, their fav poem Acorns in August, naturellement, naturellement, leaving the beheaded remains of the acorns devoured, everywhere, to obtain maximum annoyance from them interlopers human, delighting in the foul mouthed exclamations, when their ugly footed bottoms, unshod, meet the pointy part, proving squirrels natural ability to govern the swap infected by the two legged in-cursors, who have annoyed for forty years... the rabbits, seek alliances, they live full time neath the deck, making babies, so cute, getting bolder as they get older, hopping unashamedly across the deck, eliciting oohs and has, of the children, who blissfully unaware, all this creatures carry the ticks of Old Lyme. Though unnumbered, the rabbits, fat, throw their heft around, promising to drain the backyard of the invading hordes, with their smelly sun tan lotions and outrageously ugly bathing towels... called to order by the light of the flickering television, a fire signal that the humans are in for the night, won’t notice the shouting and shoving not so cute, tween the factions. Animals behaving like humans, what a lowly sad sight, deals and promises made, give me a hundred Likes, ten repostings, and five 😊, say the hedgehog, who rarely appears but boy is he big and has capital to lend to anybody who will give him what he wants... the field mice, have little-power, their diminutive constituency, not so useful, as they no longer make the female humans, shriek, nah, now they are cute, until they chew the wires in the basement, and hide their tennis socks in spidery corners where they leave them to yellow, corrode, unravel, unfit for human footage anymore; and while these weakfish of the under-deck, their longevity of encroachment must be respected for they have been since time immemorial, which nobody remembers exactly how long that is exactly... called to order, resolution on the floor, who shall lead the charge, plan the plan to drain away the inhuman interference for once and forevermore; but the conventional dialogue interruptus, by an unfamiliar voice: a scouting party sent, like the spies of the Israelites, fails to return, another party formed and returns, with woeful news, of a white van truck,stenciled in black death, The East End Pest Company (Exterminators) has been invited in, and sadly nobody of the animal world has in their possess, a dictionary or vocabulary so large that the word, exterminate, strikes a note of danger! the booing and brawling silenced, the political skullduggery is replaced by the sad quietude, until the insect kingdom returns to reclaim the lands, they were driven from many decades earlier, and they big human eavesdroppers, well, they know that word well and won’t make the same mistake twice! but then from above, between a crack, come a tumbling a business, white, from the deck o the below deck, in hand upon the back write these words: **See ya next week! We leave your property** as clear as our conscience p.s. for security reasons, conventions are held now every four years, the location unrevealed, until, the very last minute

0

Jun 20, 2020

Jun 20, 2020 at 1:33 PM UTC

the democratic convention under the deck

the democratic convention under the deck ——————————————————— all kinds have registered their displeasure with the arrival of the human menagerie, their boisterous ways, jive not with the quietus of the island paradise, and under the shady deck where the convention conversations are held... open to all but the factions forming, squirrels most populous, demand the gavel and the chairmanships, because they breed best, knowledges of the yard terrain, par excellent, have climbed every tree, show no fear, boldly jumping on the chaise lounge occupant by the lady of the house, quizzing her with a side-tilted glance of what are YOU doing here???? they like their acorns from the Oaks, their fav poem Acorns in August, naturellement, naturellement, leaving the beheaded remains of the acorns devoured, everywhere, to obtain maximum annoyance from them interlopers human, delighting in the foul mouthed exclamations, when their ugly footed bottoms, unshod, meet the pointy part, proving squirrels natural ability to govern the swap infected by the two legged in-cursors, who have annoyed for forty years... the rabbits, seek alliances, they live full time neath the deck, making babies, so cute, getting bolder as they get older, hopping unashamedly across the deck, eliciting oohs and has, of the children, who blissfully unaware, all this creatures carry the ticks of Old Lyme. Though unnumbered, the rabbits, fat, throw their heft around, promising to drain the backyard of the invading hordes, with their smelly sun tan lotions and outrageously ugly bathing towels... called to order by the light of the flickering television, a fire signal that the humans are in for the night, won’t notice the shouting and shoving not so cute, tween the factions. Animals behaving like humans, what a lowly sad sight, deals and promises made, give me a hundred Likes, ten repostings, and five 😊, say the hedgehog, who rarely appears but boy is he big and has capital to lend to anybody who will give him what he wants... the field mice, have little-power, their diminutive constituency, not so useful, as they no longer make the female humans, shriek, nah, now they are cute, until they chew the wires in the basement, and hide their tennis socks in spidery corners where they leave them to yellow, corrode, unravel, unfit for human footage anymore; and while these weakfish of the under-deck, their longevity of encroachment must be respected for they have been since time immemorial, which nobody remembers exactly how long that is exactly... called to order, resolution on the floor, who shall lead the charge, plan the plan to drain away the inhuman interference for once and forevermore; but the conventional dialogue interruptus, by an unfamiliar voice: a scouting party sent, like the spies of the Israelites, fails to return, another party formed and returns, with woeful news, of a white van truck,stenciled in black death, The East End Pest Company (Exterminators) has been invited in, and sadly nobody of the animal world has in their possess, a dictionary or vocabulary so large that the word, exterminate, strikes a note of danger! the booing and brawling silenced, the political skullduggery is replaced by the sad quietude, until the insect kingdom returns to reclaim the lands, they were driven from many decades earlier, and they big human eavesdroppers, well, they know that word well and won’t make the same mistake twice! but then from above, between a crack, come a tumbling a business, white, from the deck o the below deck, in hand upon the back write these words: **See ya next week! We leave your property** as clear as our conscience p.s. for security reasons, conventions are held now every four years, the location unrevealed, until, the very last minute

55

oscillating between extremes the seesaw tilts, slamming the body into hurtful, no genteel daisy picking, nope, love me, love me not, the mind playing warped ideologies, you, tossed about I want her; all men do; the rapture is coming, her eyes, preach to the converted and the soon-to-be; join her, her semi-colon smile, represents a hell of near-completion! discourse, pleadings, all for naught, she, teacher/grader, A or F, frenzied thrown to the ground, her lips say oops, but we know, a throwing intentional, a mastery of reminder! barbs of batting eyelids, whipping tongue tips reveal daggers, woe is me, whoa I plead, there is no mercies extant, instead, we oscillate up and down, tween extremes, I need her, can’t have her! I hate her! and myself, for myself, I love her so, my hate for her is less than our mutual mocking of me... ———— we oscillate between extremes, at least, we are together...

0

Jun 6, 2020

Jun 6, 2020 at 8:24 AM UTC

oscillating between extremes

oscillating between extremes the seesaw tilts, slamming the body into hurtful, no genteel daisy picking, nope, love me, love me not, the mind playing warped ideologies, you, tossed about I want her; all men do; the rapture is coming, her eyes, preach to the converted and the soon-to-be; join her, her semi-colon smile, represents a hell of near-completion! discourse, pleadings, all for naught, she, teacher/grader, A or F, frenzied thrown to the ground, her lips say oops, but we know, a throwing intentional, a mastery of reminder! barbs of batting eyelids, whipping tongue tips reveal daggers, woe is me, whoa I plead, there is no mercies extant, instead, we oscillate up and down, tween extremes, I need her, can’t have her! I hate her! and myself, for myself, I love her so, my hate for her is less than our mutual mocking of me... ———— we oscillate between extremes, at least, we are together...

17