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dlp Mar 17
Hover sweet Heather, over the clover, under the thunder of the insect dragon.
Heal sweet Heather, heal the hurt, remove the dirt from my beer sausage; from my wretched, twisted and demented circuitry.

"Bring me my hot dog" my dear Debbie moans.
Morbid sighs, silken thighs, conceal the African butterfly.

"Buffy, Buffy , roughy toughy" the bit*h barks to her demanding dog friend.
"Buffy, Buffy, I've had enoughy!"

Painted lips, spill over hospital white. Chunks and hunks. Flotsam and jetsam of yesterdays lunch.

"Shaddap Shaddap!" her gray head shakes, quivers and quakes,
dispelling myths of flying flakes.
Dispersing moths, displaying snakes.
dlp May 2023
***** display their phantom religiosity.

Dirigibles drift in hapless abandon.

The horseman croaks for a pittance,
while the Christ-person blithely ignores his pathetic beseechment.

Yet.....

The wrath of the path,
press vital visions into subterranean oblivion.
dlp Oct 2021
Morbid!
Morbid!

Slowly, the morbid dragon coaxes its slow but
precise ambulatory apparatus.

Deep from within the primal mind,
We all exude marvelous exhortations, excretions and exhibitions.

Yet as his glassy, languid, beaded eyes
fix upon our hapless hero,

So is our innocence consumed.
dlp Jun 2021
Man, woman;

Woman, man.

Man, man;

Woman, woman.

Man, woman, man;

Woman, man, woman.

Man, man, man;

Woman, woman woman.

Woman, man, woman;

Man, woman, man.

Woman, woman;

Man, man.

Woman, man;

Man, woman.

POW
i have been working on poems that have very few words
dlp Jun 2021
Around,
Around, and around again.

Electric dance of the magnetic mind.

Silver thoughts police the undefined maroon center,
leaving the heel scuff on the face of the passion parade.

Tumbling,
Falling,

The silver glove is  trapped in the ooze of the intestine swamp.
Holding its victim till suffocation points the way out.
dlp Jun 2021
Deep!
Deeper then deep!
So the serpent moans,
Tortured by fermented visions.

He is wrenched from the depths;
From the bowels, the  bunions,
of his  sub-cortical animations.

Morbid, morbidly  the incubus  howls.

Bemoan the sweet panther.

Animals!

yes animals!  More animals!
dlp Jun 2021
8 = 8
= 8 =
for those who are interested in where this poem/construct is going    The interesting thing about the number 8 is that it is a mirror image of itself. up down, left or right.& turn it on its side and it could be thought of as the sign for infinity .
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