M Clement

M Clement Apr 2015

I am a Fuster Cluck
I am mother-duck

Color my medically mental psychiatriosis
Red-blue-purple

Snowball my eyeballs into your throat-hole
"I never asked for this," said Adam Jensen's blow-hole.

I feel best self medicated on that fire-water's chest
Feel my insides warm as my outsides loosen
I may explodinate my thought bubble-quotient

I'm sick of being in my head
Worrying about you, worrying about life
Worrying

Lay it at the foot of the cross
I know which one
So why am I sitting here holding all my problems in my arms
Cradling them like a small child?

I just wanted to write.

M Clement Apr 2015

listless

A discontented silence raised itself among the fellows

Which of us?

Then it becomes a ******* race.

I write to seek and to find

Please, someone define the languish of hypocrisy
I can do me all by myself

Scattered brain splattering
Jackson *******'s word-painting
Find Pascal's triangle inside me
I hope it's in the mouth.

Arbitrary. Periods.

Here I am, delirious

M Clement Apr 2015

Homicide, though it never were to be

Pig body with a man's face
eradicating the human race

Possibly the opposite
balance melons, call 'em ****

The anger uprising
OBEY surprising

Read what it says on the back of my Oakleys
Made in China

Considered derailment

Cannot understand the Satan in a man to commit the heinous crime of ****
To another human being, for goodness sake!

Prayer, prayer,
with unanswered need.

Read these words, take some heed
None of us gain anything from the sin of greed.

M Clement Apr 2015

A name does not suffice

Spinning, spinning:
Tread lightly, so softly

She pitter patters 'cross The floor

Mirrors show the grace
and softened steps
and light reflect the tenacity at which she pursues them both

Pat
pat
pat
Pit
pit
pit

Plie

M Clement Apr 2015

Uhm

A pawn
It sits atop a white square
its blackened wood contrasting

The lawn
the dirt and rooted mixture
Sitting atop, or simply 'is' Earth

The people
all alike and different
casting shadows, shapes, and 'morrows

This poem
a collection of words and phrase
fitting neither in reality nor falsehood.

M Clement Apr 2015

Ad hoc

With ode to the blue skies
and fan-fares of yesteryears

To the bitter cold realities of
Ten-plus pills per morning

I wept on the clouds of
dream-like depressions

And you, and you, and you,
You're gonna love me.

First in a while, especially on this site. I have been writing off and on for quite some time... I suppose the tradition continues.

M Clement Feb 2015

a lifetime of mutters

I have written since
I have written hence
and on my emotions,
Someone pressed mute.

I give a hoot
owls, towels
Showering
owl-ring

Let's make *** to Sam Smith