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Carlo C Gomez Dec 2019
She enters the room
A notorious hornblower
Preening to no one
In particular

Dress out of fashion
But the flesh is current
It seems cleavage
Is today's calling card

The bottom line
Is flanked by dimples
And other non-essentials

Her lonely livid *****
Seek boarders
But the sign outside
Claims no vacancy

Don't give in to the hype
She's nothing special

Go home to your wife
And learn to give
More often than you get
Carlo C Gomez Oct 2020
What is reality?
What is theory?

Sometimes four
Sometimes five

Sometimes both
Of them at once

Control the future
By controlling the past

Listen here, Oceania
War is peace

First, we'll give everything its due
Then say it never happened

Again and again
Until you believe it's true
Carlo C Gomez Nov 2019
You tickled my funny bone

Just when under the rose I believed
myself a casualty

Maybe you're the one for me?

But I'm theory weary

Suspicious of the auspicious

You might bite down too hard

Spill me like grape juice

A septic drink offering destined
for the graveyard

Or worse

You might follow me like a shadow
of doubt

Until at day's end, you tire of each
dubious step I measured out

And then off you will go

Looking for someone new to bake
your cake

I already see tendencies to seal
my fate

But, my viral *****, today was a gas

About tomorrow?

I'll have to pass
Carlo C Gomez May 2020
Stay inside
Play it safe
There are much greater things to miss than a day at the beach

Beginning with life itself
Grey skies
flying moor
storm in a teacup
gas cell 4
the clock hands are matchsticks
The letting go of everything
in hopes of trimming the airship
this seat is no longer taken
In love with a bad idea
the zeppelin and the magnetism
closing in beyond the minimum safe distance
Dim blue flame
a psalm of survival:
days and peoples and places
are transatlantic numbers
crawling from the wreckage
the clock hands are matchsticks
Carlo C Gomez Dec 2021
taking sides
picking flowers
dead and buried
on the surface line

counting hostages
trading stamps
extended infinitely
at right angles

cozy spaces
married couples
legs and mingled stria
one over the other

It's all conjugated
a tourist trap
with zero interest
for a year

I feel the weight of nearly a hundred moons upon this suggestive flight deck, overtaken by transfusion in a high formation rhythmic way. Fluorescent headphones—neon red, rotate around neutral zones. Push in, pull out. Swim under the pink, towards some aerobatic link to mother earth. And still, we're not in orbit yet. Your dawning glow you blow into my lungs. Will you catch me if I blast away?
Carlo C Gomez Nov 2019
They both prey
Upon the little guy
Who's just tirelessly
Trying to put something away
For a rainy day
Carlo C Gomez Feb 2020
Entombed on the outskirts
of hero township
sits a once Arcadian jewel
turned relic

its vast wings spread
as an eagle
but the days of flight
long exhausted

sullen close-down signs and banners
hang minatory from
a fractured glass ceiling
-- a terminal remainder

spots of rain fall thru strewn wreckage
along the counters of a fossilized department store

inchworms journey down
the massive teeth of a frozen
escalator descended from
the empty heavens

creepy crawlers move about
remnants of a food court
in search of morsels

like the droves of
holiday shoppers
that once haunted this place

before betraying it
for the shiny new toy
across the highway
Carlo C Gomez Oct 2019
An Old Wives' Tale:

Hello Canton of Neuchâtel
Bitter homecoming
  What's your spell?

This way
  Pearly Russian Doll

Absinthe makes the heart grow fonder
But your dreams spill from the glass
  Sawn asunder

Your holy relic, O Green Fairy
With honey on the brim
  Wormwood berry

How now
Brown cow
Swiss Miss

A wreath for your head
Glass slipper for your foot
  Ah yes, to sleep in your magical bed

Laisse tomber!
  Laisse tomber!

Sodden your soul
And **** all other Lanfray
Otherwise, this rue of earth will
  Swallow you whole
Absinthe was once associated with violent crimes and social disorder, and one modern writer claims that this trend was spurred by fabricated claims and smear campaigns, which he claims were orchestrated by the temperance movement and the wine industry. By 1915, absinthe had been banned in the United States and in much of Europe, yet it has not been demonstrated to be any more dangerous than ordinary spirits. Recent studies have shown that absinthe's psychoactive properties have been exaggerated, apart from that of the alcohol.
Carlo C Gomez Jan 2020
Delayed reaction
Bitterweet one-note transaction
Turn a blind eye
Voice it in a lie
From compulsive catalogs
Gift-wrapped by mythomaniac hands
Mixing false theories
With hour-glass sands
Because everyone can
And everyone will
Believe the scientific rulebook
And how the high heavens, they shook
So long as it looks pretty
And speaks in a foreign accent
Join hands in singing the praises
Calculating our own descent
Passively uninvolved?
Problem solved...
In today's world, ignorance is no longer bliss.
Carlo C Gomez Dec 2019
People who are more active
are less likely to think about cancer.

Choosing confusing reusing
is the answer.

Spanking your child
is unproductive and cruel.

We may have been wrong there,
But hey! William Singer can get the kid
into a better school.

Pools and ponds are okay,
but avoid lakes.

3 out of 5 doctors
prefer headaches.

Do you have a problem (?)
Take this pill.

But not for too long
'cause it can ****.

Don't eat eggs,
don't use butter.

You can eat eggs now,
but not with butter.

It's okay again to use butter,
just skip anything from Laura Scudder.

Girls with long legs and short tempers
make better lovers.

Boys always marry girls
who remind them of their mothers.

Do these 40 things
to be a better father.

That's so last year!
Why even bother?

Women who wear wicker
marry quicker.

Men who love their lawn mower
do it slower.

People who breathe through their mouth
as less likely to pick their nose.
Or so it goes.

50% of those polled
said "yes."

The other half shrugged
and wouldn't wager a guess.

We know it's a lot to process,
so just stick with us
and we'll guide you through...

more or less...?
Carlo C Gomez Jan 2020
Set the fig leaves on delicate
Make sure to add softener
Before the spin cycle
Then hang them to dry
While waiting
Might as well find
A Good Book to read
Carlo C Gomez Nov 2019
People who are always late
Are like missing fingers,
You can't count on them.
Carlo C Gomez Oct 2019
I'm shipwrecked without you

Broken and foundering
Can't let go
I won't let go

What remains is more
Than a keepsake
It's a lifetime together

Treasures that sparkle
Like the sunbeams
At noontide

Where children and dreams
Splash and play

The boat to shore is slipping
From its mooring and I'm
But one grasp away from losing it

I must first breathe
Then summon a strength
To sail on

Such departure is agony
An anguish rending
My heart in two

I can give nothing but words
You can no longer hear
A touch you cannot feel

But I offer them
Without reserve
A declaration of love

A betiding of elegies that somehow
Must suffice as
Our ill-timed parting

A remnant of us
An ember of this love
Will burn

Like flares
And light up the sky
Into the unknown

For now I must go
My pilgrimage for shore
In pieces and alone

Remembering I've only
Lost you to your rest
Until a morning awakening

Oh, what solace
Adieu, my love
Sleep well
Carlo C Gomez Nov 2019
solved in the glow
from a lone firefly's lantern
only ignite
new torches
to continuously
bug us
Carlo C Gomez Jan 2020
The steady light
that continues to keep
long after the flame
has settled to sleep
Carlo C Gomez Oct 2019
A new blade of grass sprouts
among the snarl of weeds
—widow's weeds.
This mourning is young and soft.
Years will come
to make it old and brittle
—like wind against argil.
For now it's a tender creation,
open and pink.
Even the children
do not play as they once did
—no blowing big bubbles
or laughter filling the sky;
—no catching fun in a bottle
or chasing after the butterflies.
An infant shoot this is
—the fragile tendril of
what came before.
In the evening it bows its head,
screen of darkness
a consolation.
Daylight is far more dangerous,
for the cicatrix is stark, unguarded.
All alone it will linger
a naked residual,
a lament to the dagger, Quietus.
Carlo C Gomez Nov 2022
"Leave the lights off and on,
I feel mysterious tonight,"
she says.

"Every time you look different,"
replies her careful ecstasy.

Practice makes perfect,
and from chaos comes 💋 (kissing).
She floats free from
her own body's outer reaches:
The mirrorball and the mystic circle.
The mirrorball is a light
for attracting attention.
The mystic circle
is an unsustainable trance.

"Will I dream during the process?" she asks.

"Only if you know the wild that wants you," chants the infinite unsayable yes.

Carlo C Gomez Apr 2020
They lie dead
scuttled ships
marauders no more
merely firewood
for the pitch black flames

They lie prone
paralyzed senses
forces no longer
only drops
from puddles of ****** mutiny

Captains of real estate
they settled on new worlds
from old buildings
three arks on a maiden voyage:
the Niña
the Pinta
and the Sandinista

Release the collective animal
ruling in symphony
with those heavy waters
now a graveyard

Cleansed mind
falling reign
their kingdom come and go
Carlo C Gomez Jan 2022
Strange how
my feet won't touch
the ground.
Strange how
my bags are packed
with sadness.

Plight is
my fellow passenger
to Osaka sun,
or Artic chill,
or some volcanic
love nest.

Strange how
my jet-setting eyes,
they see paradise only
on satellite tv,
yet they see the once
beautiful people
and all their utter dismay,
as they pass through
the metal detectors.

So strange
that I can hear
their strife
their suffering
well above
the engine's roar.

Carlo C Gomez Aug 2022
precious metal detector
of tourism,
as in a dream,
such device has the power
to make one nostalgic for places
either never visited
or nonexistent.

this strange museum exhibits
sometimes airplanes,
always mortality salience,
and the impossibly probable idea

that travel can change
your sense of time,
so you don't really mind
if things slip away,
or alter in some disenchanted way.

Carlo C Gomez Jun 2021
Lost inside a labyrinth

Tight-lipped tinkerer
open-mouthed cynosure

Pressing matters completing their circuit
all things said, but not spoken

Osculated locution, succinct phrasing
released, but not heard

The human element imparting
seminal spark
—together felt and touched

A tingling syntax
owing to its art
becoming its nucleus

Carlo C Gomez Sep 2020
There are whispers

Suffocating rumors

Tomorrow's deep pockets are full of sand

We hold power in our hands like water

No containment

Fear must fall in drops and settle into streams

Drink it up

Feel it in your thirst

Feel it tighten 'round your throat
Carlo C Gomez Dec 2020
Target on my back
Wishing my pockets
Were happy pharmacies
And not sad reminders
Of long expenditures
And indiscretions
At night
Here now
In debt
I'm in your sights
Madam Cashier
Take the first shot
Bill me later
We'll call it even
Equal compensation
Or a semblance thereof
I spent freely
Allow me please
To die the same way
Carlo C Gomez Feb 2020
Glass divides us

Forever in pane

This reflection
looking back at me
is shaped like
the blinking vast mosaics
in reverse of you

Once removed

Twice over lightly

The shallow end
of an image immersed
less than we

Yet at an unfathomable depth

Breathing through
what love remained

Before those pretty
little pieces
should be taken by the wind
Carlo C Gomez Jul 2020
It smells like
French toast
During the Renaissance

The taste of which
Leaves me starving
For perspective and humanity
Carlo C Gomez Apr 2022
Corrosive elevation
Metabolic creation
At the mouth of cough drop falls
Trails of caustic, nomadic influence:
Coffee lips
Decaffeinated tongue
Resealable groove
Reusable embryo
White hunter
Melt snow
Hang fire
Black crow

Mechanical peak
Summit on a stick
Chiseled grey
The smoke ascending
They call "day"
Lovely shade of sadness, this
Wandering endocarp
Hidden in caves, hollows, crags, cellars, and cisterns
It came naked
From out of the acrid woods
And said

"The locust are upon us..."
Carlo C Gomez Mar 2020
Egyptian contractors are hard to trust
they're into pyramid schemes

King Tut was a whiny baby
who had mummy issues

Cleopatra turned out to be
a lazy queen who sat on her asp
More humor at Shamamama's request!
Carlo C Gomez May 2020
The well dug deep
She is one to forever keep

She dances naked for me
In the coin fountain
She wears **** boots
On the balcony
Amid raindrops
And not a stitch more
For the hyperbole

It's the perfect dividing
Of night and day
This well of ours
From which we play
In the 1880s a former sailor named John Frazier dug a well in the area of Carlsbad, California. The water was discovered to be chemically similar to that found in some of the most renowned spas in the world, and the town was named after the famed spa in the Bohemian town of Karlsbad. It is now a favorite vacation spot.
Carlo C Gomez Jan 2020
The waffle bird
Flew a bit silly
Like a **** pad with wings
Yet with its sharp claws
Reached down into the water
And pulled out
A dinner boat
Serving breakfast all day long...
Third and final (maybe) one in response to a poem challenge from Elizabeth Leone Laird. See her poem "Clarity" and take the challenge!
Carlo C Gomez Feb 2020
All he does is march on
but you can't **** progress
he knows where all
the bodies are buried
Carlo C Gomez Aug 2020
Dear Mrs. Timetable,

I'm writing you
From the bargain bin
Of a local bookstore,
Eating a peanut butter then jelly
I must admit
It tastes pretty good.
How about we go out
For ice cream this evening?
We'll put on clothes,
And our best designer mask,
And head over to 31 flavors.
So long as it's chocolate, of course...
Carlo C Gomez Apr 2020
The field's on fire

and natural selection

loose in the commons

dying to ****
killing to die

this is no dress rehearsal
no prank

the breath of life

into playground psychosis

the finger of a false god

summoned in the blackness

to try and choke humanity's
guiding flame

(but on it burns)
The Columbine High School tragedy occurred on April 20, 1999, killing twelve innocent students and one brave teacher.
Carlo C Gomez Dec 2019
In the court of public opinion
There are no mistrials
Carlo C Gomez Jul 2020
Rages are red
My opponents black n' blue
The sound of the bell
Means it's time to be fed
And as you know
I never bite off
More than I can chew
In Memory of Evander Holyfield's ear (1962-1997)

Thomas W. Case's Historical Figure Poetry Challenge, Mike Tyson.
Carlo C Gomez Dec 2019
This poem is brought to you by the following:

Stick N' Yank
The do-it-yourself Brazilian wax kit.
Guaranteed to leave you bare down there or your money back!

Recommended only for those with high pain thresholds. Keep out of the reach of hippies.

Cosmic Wafers
Blast off any dull lifeless party with the snack chip that's the equivalent of drinking a six-pack of beer. And it's gluten-free!

Remember to snack responsibly.

My First Hornet's Nest
Forget ant farms. Your kids will have an even better time learning about these flying insects, up close and personal. They can hang it from a ceiling, a tree, or underneath a car!

For ages 10 and up. Hornets sold separately.
Inspired by fellow HP poet BLT.
Note: none of these "products" actually exist...yet.
Well...maybe Stick N' Yank.
Carlo C Gomez Dec 2022
"The cradle rocks above an abyss, and common sense tells us that our existence is but a brief crack of light between two eternities of darkness." — Vladimir Nabokov

Clockworks and Ferris wheels
mix time and laughter into their spin
and then comes twilight
and a vacant lot
of endless cycles:
hide and seek in a night-time labyrinth
and then the night walks begin
this fear of emptiness
—time is not a straight line

a warning to the curious:
don't ever trust the stars
to guide you
in the black hit of space
the warmth of our flare's lifespan
is a true testament to the skill and sorcery
found in every limb, larynx
and lovelorn heart
of this dimming voidance
Carlo C Gomez Nov 2019
Listening to someone talk only
About themselves
Is like a beauty pageant
Without the swimsuit competition
There's no reason to stay tuned in
Carlo C Gomez Dec 2019
"Every survivor of ****** assault deserves to be heard, believed, and supported."

Rainwater of
the Elysian fields,
you assuredly do
like to drown your winged heroines?
You write them as strange
bitter narratives,
spurious to the calling
or as a bit of
bloodletting go.

The history formed around either
her breaking at the seams
upon the witching hour,
and her own home village
pillaging her claims
in the bonfire;
Or the arcane notion
no woman shall give testimony
against a neighbor
on the occasion he's a man.

Yes, she cried 'no' at the temple gate
Yes, she repeated such entreaties
But she'd also been into the ale
and wore an overtly
fetching carousal dress
you incensed.
Let her dam break
Let her try and flood us over
you mocked.
She was only a wayfaring angel
one reckless bird of passage
What type of wounds
could she inflict?

How easily you lost sight
of her will & halo
becoming stronger than fright.
Down she poured in antipathy,
until covering your gaping mouth!
It wasn't rain that killed you,
for you were the rain,
it was her blood calling out
that finally did you in...
When it comes to ****** assault and/or harassment, a woman's voice needs to be listened to and believed.

Inspired by the poem "Dark Sky, One Star," by fellow HP writer Ashly Kocher.
Carlo C Gomez Jan 2020
Pray tell, is this weighed-down mortal
allowed to borrow your angelic wings?

Can such a grounded soul learn to fly from your all-or-nothing example?

If I keep my promise to follow the endless strings of love to the bitter end

Shall I then perhaps come close to seeing the birth of a new sun, the very first breath of the open sea?

Will you care enough to embrace me in this unbearable lightness of being?

You don't have to say either yes or no

Just tell me it is possible...
Carlo C Gomez Dec 2019
Feathers ruffled
Knives out
Glue me to the game console
Harebrained, yes
But devout
Carlo C Gomez Jan 2021
Whilom seafarers in rapture,
seven minutes in heaven,
then nothing but bathos,
--a woman in bed,
she and Rembrandt quarreling
over fidelity or obedience to her king?

"It is I, Seagull!"

"Everything is fine. I see the horizon..."

Night sky, a blow torch,
a golden rain flowing between her legs,
curled in the veil of imperial lineage and/or arousal,
--ballistic arc,
peering into the hand mirror,
a breach of promise staring back.

"Will the flight
affect your reproductive organs, Danaë?"

and how they shall weep
when things go wrong between us?"
Carlo C Gomez Jan 2020
A bird in the hand
Is worth a whole slew
In the Australian bush
The World Wildlife Fund in Australia estimates that as many as 1.25 billion animals may have been killed directly or indirectly from fires that have scorched Australia. The Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals Australia, the nation's leading animal welfare charity, is accepting donations to fund the rescue and treatment of animals affected by the fires. RSPCA chapters in New South Wales, Victoria, Queensland and South Australia are accepting donations.
Carlo C Gomez Sep 2020
and underwater ruins

Dressed as shiny
moons and stars

That shimmer
for the sandpipers

When the sun drops her guard
and shows a little skin
Carlo C Gomez Nov 2019
Just your typical
Barn burner:
One last roll
In the hay
That turned out to be
The final straw
Carlo C Gomez Jun 2020
I saw you for a brief moment
Your hair was the length of
A football field
   And as dark as the pigment
Of my imagination

Even in your evening gown
You could kick
    Like Trinity from The Matrix
And give your favorite
Retired thong
New life as
     A slingshot

You are everything I can't
    -- Or at least a little bit of it
And I could love you maybe
    Or at least like you

But I know you're not
You can't be real...

Like Mac N Cheese
You are just another
     Right out of the box
Carlo C Gomez Sep 2022
an interstellar vacuum
is far from empty,
all the water in the universe
is melted comets,
and it floods all reason.

bloodstar from afar
or Cape Canaveral close,
no astral projection there,
only a cipher in a foreign quadrant
big, wet, unsympathetic drops.

hear it now!
the sonic boom of
marooned tourism,
in short shots,
fast cuts,
horizonal eddy currents
ripe with thorns,
like lakes of suspicion,
if God is listening
then this mission is in trouble.

downcycled planet in the wires
and cigarette lighters,
a home without space,
Andromeda chained in sacrifice
to sate the monster,
her punishing beauty
cascading over the peril
that everything in the universe
is recyclable – even you!
Carlo C Gomez Nov 2019
Pilcrow, the Blind P,
once said,

"Allow me, ma'am/sir,
  for it looks like
  you could use a break.
  Besides, Hedera is hard
  and annoying, so full of herself,
  and up to her neck in ivy."

That was a Snark.
But who could tell?
Simply forgot to point it out.
Guess it's better to
leave things unsaid.

In the end
there's only enough
room for the Asterism.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
Carlo C Gomez Jan 2020
Some write from their heart
Others bare their soul
Some write for the art
Others to feel whole
Some write to inform
Others to get a laugh
Some write as a platform
Others to land a gaff
Some write to rant and lobby
Others to find peace
Some write as a hobby
Others in search of a masterpiece

They each have merit
But with every sort of objective
They just want to share it
With us, the HP collective
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