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319 · Jan 13
Swansong
so-
A    mb-
        re,
       Sw-
       a-
      n's,
    cu-
    rl-
ing,
ne-                Rarely,
ck. takes, the time, to, longingly,
straighten out. If, it, took, a honking
step, toward; a banal, straight line. Wo-
uld, Lir, hear, his children's; swansong?
Or, pinion feathers, flip, on breezes, as,
              they,
                  flap, about?

© poormansdreams
When I was small I always thought I'd be turned into a swan by my evil stepfather. But, I've warmed to the proud honkers in my old age.
243 · Feb 2
an astral projection
somewhere
along the universal path
a twilight hut

stands alone

where cosmic palms are read
and untimely fortunes are told
by abyssal blackness
in the guise of twinkling
clairvoyants

planets reach out
to touch lost faith
yearning for a claim
to stardom
but the uncelestial zone
yields only
dead broke dreams
that have been missold

inside
the sensei shadows
of physics
whisper
contemptuously
of blaggards that
"couldn't even imagine
how to float
never mind actually
be buoyant"

outside
sub-zero temperatures
make sure their teeth
are heard chattering
as their lips
splutter kisses
upon every
last inch of spacial decay
comets are the remnants
of their spit splattering

© poormansdreams
242 · Jan 22
A Whale's Mouth
The
evil, vi-
triolic, m-
arrowed, m-
emories, that,
travel, through,
hollow-*****, w-
ords, come-forth;
a, cerulean, reverie,
from, the, decaying,
skeleton, of, a, whale's,
mouth, and, sweep, the,
landscape, like, a, desola-
ting, tsunami-wave, of, cada-
verous, cartilaged, evocations,
destroying; lives, loves, relation-
ships, and, long, lost, treasuries.
                                 Drowned.
                     Never,
                to,
           be,
found.

© poormansdreams
A poem about a dead whale's mouth.
236 · Jan 13
Apex's Pique
Sojou-
rning, sco-
rnfully, to J-
upiter's red s-
***. The circu-
lar, scarlet rage,
it, roundly, and, r-
ubily, rotates, into
whirlwinds, of ste-
aming, magma, hot.
The firef-lies, lay, t-
heir eggs, in; truth,
and, hope, that, d-
eceptions, hatch.
The batches, fl-
y, never, brou-
ght to, light.
Oppressi-
vely, the-
y, stay.

© poormansdreams
Have you ever been so angry that you feel the incandescent rage propelling you with a magnitude of force to write a poem about it?
188 · Jan 16
An Ode to Heart
To capture, nurse, and, hold,
the unfairness of it all.
The rapturous, coal-
heartedness, of Hellish
snares, beneath, the Mall.
When, afterwards, those
cauldrons, spout nightly
mares, of, bridled gall.
The captor cursed, his embold-
ened heir, is, a;
hairless toupee,
sheared, and, effortlessly, shorn.

The flesh, is, pierced,
and, punctured, by, the
blade of wickedness.
A chest, buried, by, the weir
-y, encumbered. Wreaths are
laid, by, Triffid's Bliss.
Sounds of stress, fierce,
and, repugnant, line, the
glades, of, Inner Wist.
As, the Rest, rely on tears,
while, torn asunder, cutting
their way, through, thicker mist.

The end,
much like, the start,
starts with,
a flashing in the pan.
As, the friend-
ship sunk, apart,
embarks, for Unhappiness,
with, Sad.
Send your dogged
embittered bark,
hearts hear no sorries,
in a lost, unlistened land.
And, you can't mend
a broken heart,
when broken hearts
is all we've had.

© poormansdreams
A lament to the notion of kind-heartedness.
168 · Jan 25
Horseshoes
Unlucky horseshoes,
strewn around the fields,
where I used to play.
Captured ankles after curfews,
absconded sword and shield,
laugh at me from yesterday.
I used to cry with curlews,
now my mouth is sealed,
like the word unsay.
Broad and mighty purviews,
are now wisps that yield,
to ground on which they lay.

You'll never understand,
the pain with which you struck me.
The young outstretching hand,
has wizened into an old and grizzled duppy.
The noose I wear by your demand,
has the same shape and plans,
as those; hateful, possessive, and, ******;
horseshoes unlucky.

@poormansdreams
163 · Feb 7
Drip, Drip, Drip
To crash, lose and fall,
from those heady heights,
a nosediving, disco ball,
of wet, unemitted light.

A crossed, cascading crawl,
into the deathly night,
a fraying, windswept shawl,
blown by galeforced might.

The reeling of the pits,
in the damp depths of the stomach,
as glum hearts deflate,
plummeting,
to their promised demise.

Defeat reddens spit,
cheeks fly the colour of ruddocks,
descent down to Mt. Hate,
tumbling,
through disquieted eyes.

The cruel, unrequited fall.
The smashed, abyssal disco ball.
The sulking, jet, cataract crawl.
The unravelling, hurricaned shawl.
The grave, staggering pits.
The stray and scarlet spit.
The chasm of a stomach.
The vermillion ruddocks.
The burst hearts that deflate.
The sinking spiral, Mt. Hate.
Became promised demise.
Untwinkling, in disquieted eyes.

And, are, all;
liqu-
ida-
ted,
into
a;
drip,
drip,
drip
feed.
For,
the
dev-­
ils,
un-
sat-
ed.

© poormansdreams
162 · Jan 22
Falling From A Dream
What-if-that-dream-we-
had-where-we-are-all-
fall-
ing-
is-
sim-
­ply-
the-
coll-
ect-
ive-
sub-
con-
sci-
ous-
of-
our-
**-
me-
pl­a-
net-
call-
ing?
The
lad-
der-
to-
cli-
mb-
bac-
k-up-
see-
ms-­
to-
go-
on-
for-
ever-
and-
the-
clo-
ck-
at-
the-top-keeps-on-
­striking-ten-past-never.

© poormansdreams
Ever have that dream where you're falling and then you kick out as you suddenly wake up?
Pray tell, Janus,
how, does, it, feel?
Does, your steel's,
duplicitous, reflection, reappear?
When, the, officed, place,
your, only-thought, used to, lay,
it's, bulbous head,
blossoms, into,
a, tangible idea?
Does, the bedrock's, stele,
make, flowering mettle,
of, the insecure hay?
And, from, the ore,
did, a, garden-variety,
blacksmith, bow, kneel, and, forge,
a sword, for, you, to, falsely, slay,
the poltergeist's, of, those, evil,
sons, and, daughters, seeded by,
that, shiny, yet, mistrusted,
Monarchy of Fear?

So, pray tell, Janus,
how, does, it, feel?
Does, your steel's,
duplicitous, reflection, disappear?
When, your mettle, is, made molten?
Does, it, maim, to see,
your, valued core, first, loosen,
then, wobble, as, you, backtrack, sore,
and, falter, on hearing, the, magma mists,
of, you, hiss, and, squeal?
Is, cerulean, gold, scarlet, and, purple,
all, that, you, listen to, here?
Does, the, imperious, court,
within, your mind, reveal, only,
Knaves-Jesters-Jacks-and-Jokers?
And, does, the, gilded line,
(you speak of naught),
that, you, and, your; Kings, and, Queens, crossed, of yester,
split; all, of, your faces, in, two,
with; royal-blue, hot, i-ron, pokers?

The answers, as always, were; curved, and,
swerved. In, a, spineless, motion, with, gall, but, without, feeling, or, nerve. Pride,
watched on, unaware, of, the fall, that, lay, beyond, the cliff, where, evil, is, served.

© poormansdreams
A poem about the two faced nature of power.
...dust. Ethereal disgust;
the, revolver, Earthly,
expires, coo d'etats. Droning,
are; discharges, of, mistrust.

Early, empires, of, devilment. Driven-on;
gritty, caustic, roads,
of, gristled, carbon, and, skin.
Exuviated, by, serpentine; clouds, gusts.

Makes, death; evolve.
Caught, in, each, tyre-tread,
is, every, copied, dynasty;
crushed, done, then... Chaos.
Eventually, everything,
self-destructs.

From, erstwhile, meagre,
nihilism, upended. Cometh,
mere, scintillating, diamonds. Of,
their; cognition, desires, meat. Dust...

© poormansdreams
Life, death, and, dust.
159 · Jan 18
A Norwegian Fjord
A, Norwe-
         gian, fjord,
             overlooking, loftily.
                        Like, sixteen-
                        aged, potential,
                   love. Like, several,
                         protege's; full,
                           and, predicted,
                                            futures.
                           The, raven's, eye,
                   intersects, the snow,
                       as, though, a, beauty,
spot, on, translucent, skins; a-black
-serpentine-rock-set-in-silver-sutures.
           I, counted, to, nine, as, the
magic, faded......... Mountainous,
                    terrain, murmured, with,
                           feathered, subtlety.
"To be, a fjord, is, to, truly, view,
   the world, &, know, cascading, change,
                      over, those, that, are, newer."

© poormansdreams
A poem about the Norwegian fjords.
A picket-line/
crossed-can/
leave-a-little/
man-lost/
despite-being/
just-a-boy/
when-the-strikes/
took-place./
Boundaries/
embossed/
leave/
dumbstruck/
picketed-rods/
strewn-across/
backs-of-polloi./
Uncled-pike./
Coked-hate./
The-coaly/
burrows/
are-filled/
and-gone/
from-sight/
but-the-feuds/
still-carve/
deep-shafts/
in-hearts/
and-min
ds/es./
Generations/
are-instilled/
with-wounds/
black-bright./
Scabby-crude./
That-dig/
and-craft-into/

an, asphyxiated, dead, canary,
at, the, very, bottom.

Of-a-pigeonholed/
unmoving-min
e/d./

© poormansdreams
This piece is inspired by an encounter I had the other day and I just had to write about it. It amazes me how generational grudges can be kept and stereotypes reinforced. Also, mildly, terrifying.
117 · Feb 3
A Babylonian Avalanche
Low-born, lowly,
lumbered, plebian
mushrooms, steal and
take, their final gasp.
 Before, a fastly approaching,
 Babylonian Avalanche. Where, lined up, thinly, ivoried-blue, are petulant
       pigs. That, usually; sniff out, lick, arr-
             est and lock up; black, brown and
               white truffles. The unguilty

              are apprehended. For false,
             treasonous reasons. So, who
            can blame the fungis, for wanting
       to seize, the cult of vulturous swines?
     By; the scruff of the system, and br-
   eak their snouts, until, their peccaried
      feathers are ruffled? The champignon,
     were; hewed and chewed, aplenty. By;

    hoggish, gnarled teeth, curled trotters
    and lavish appetites. But, those that  
   fell, to the Babylonian Avalanche, will,
  eventually, become a Mushroom Cloud.
 They'll float over, the 50, fuzzy, boarish
 corpses, to stellar, toadstool plateaus. When, their; final, pixie dust; they bite.

© poormansdreams
A poem about the police and mushrooms.
111 · Feb 8
The Toughest Romance
The breaking,
of that, final branch.

That, unmistaken,
crunching, chance.

The twist,
that teased,
the gritted crush...

...of bitter unease.

Blood, like, sap, aching,
pouring out, unstanched.

The forgotten cut, forsaken...

...of rotten, felled circumstance.

Feels, as though, inhumane, is everlasting.

To heal and grow...

...after falling, from a baned tree, ungrasping...

...is the toughest ask in life's chase romance.

© poormansdreams
110 · Feb 1
Emerging from the Egg
As,
the, curious,
beak, cracks, through,
the shell.
The curvature, splits. Like, a
crooked spine, in, Corruption's; hu
-nched, charlatanic, back. Memor
-ies; scramble. As, yokes, are, unhitch
-ed, from; cheats of burden. They walk,
with, precise, apexed, chins. Held high.
Elevating, to; poached, classy, cultured, chambrés. From, collapsing shacks. I
-ronically, the highbrows, never sense,
the cliffs, as they, edge, ever-closer, to,
their; flipped, scripted, skyscraping,
demise. Now, ovalled. Over. Easy;
is the fall. The, unlucky, Moon,
stays, risen. For, a baker's,
dozened, months. Rot
-ten. Unable to;
evac.

© poormansdreams
107 · Feb 6
Absorbing Grief
If you ever feel that you are frightened,
by barks, intimidating.
Do not fight, ignore or repress your feelings.

If your inner-walls detain you. Imprisoned.
And you seize. It is because,
your rage within, will leave you beaten.

If the dark arts can't ever be enlightened,
start off, illuminating,
your life's canvas, with your soul's graffiti.

If cold, bitter winters leave you stricken,
stiffen your fingered gloves,
and reach for your extra cover, fleecy.

Life's the hard part, please,
know, that the unliving's easy.

Strife's a scarred heart, please,
be careful, when it is given freely.

Be careful and know that,
the windowed moments,
of living pane,
will be mirrored,
in the reflections,
of every anguished,
droplet of rain,
and as they descend,
upon the ground,
in puddles, lain,
they'll pool together,
a collective of absorbing grief,
in
angels'
****-
tered
sky-
falled
tears,
cried from the heavens,
again, and again,
and again.

© poormansdreams
105 · Feb 9
Hindsight
Mysterious models.
Manufactured.
By argon-hearted stars.
Nefarious apostles,
have youth fractured.
Why? Ma & Da's gone.
Departed for Mars.

When surroundings & reality,
are surreal.
You're out of body/don't know how to deal.
Because meaningful,
contact is imagined.
Along with,
how you're not taught to feel.

Destiny is caught,
in an optimistic eyeful,
but, held in the hands,
of glimpsed emptiness.
Those hollow fists, will drop,
the future, set insight, to crash.
Lips, look above,
rather, wry-ful.
Unable to face,
myopic unfriendliness.
They're content, to cozy up,
next to a rash;
- stress induced psoriasis -
caused by; a post-traumatic past.

© poormansdreams
105 · Jan 14
One, Two, Three, Four.
Once, upon,
a crime,
unconscionable,
grime,
started to,
eat away,
at me;
mouldy.
But, I said,
"I am fine. At least none of the time."
as, the snows,
set, in gray,
mixed, with,
green,
coldly.

Twice, upon, a shrine, I battled, a couple,
of, faces,
seperated,
by, a, single, line.
They, went, by, the name, of, Janus.
Cries, and, prattles,
of, zodiac signs,
and, serrated intent,
cut, through,
lives, of, nine,
and, cats, had,
twelve kittens,
in, their places.

Thrice, upon,
a shine,
a magic number,
frequented,
and, a trio, of, doored futures, occurred.
There, was, one,
boring, benign,
and, one,
unrelented,
and, a final one,
so, silly,
that, it, was,
absurd.
I, asked for,
none of them,
instead, for, the windows, above, them.
So, I, cleaned,
polished, and,
brushed, them.
Then, as, I,
declined,
the Moon,
presented,
a fourth option,
deferred.
It, was, a future,
of, mine,
as, free, and,
uncemented,
as, the, upward, cascading, ghost, of, a bird.

And, finally,
hencefourth, upon, that, which, is, divine,
I, now, fly,
over, and,
across, universal divides, filled, with, sky,
knowing,
that, in,
every,
teardrop,
that,
I cry,
lives, great, galaxies, of, wondrous, light,
and, that,
my sadness, creates, the forces, of, life.

© poormansdreams
Life, death, dreams, and, numbers.
102 · Feb 7
The Final Message
Yearning for a much simpler time,
yet the ticking clock only stops,
when the overlord behemoth's thumb,
presses the languid clicker at the top.

Churning are these guts of mine,
bones ground to juice that flops,
a remainder of all things in sum,
mass ****** equations; divide, drop.

Burning are high stakes of thine,
the living inferno never, ever stops,
bullet holes spew from a smoking gun,
a blue prison; is all you'll ever cop.

Returning to the scene of the crime;
are the leopard gecko's slimeball spots,
no contrived camouflage under the sun,
could disguise what you haven't got.

Spurning longjevity in life's grand design,
ageing knees and elbows; envy baby cots,
yarns left woollen trails as they're unspun,
concepts were a 1 in 400 trillion shot.

Learning to make the most of light ashine,
the gloaming thief of joy; takes the lot,
every evening He turns his back to shun,
the roving wanderers without a **** or ***.

Earning a reputation for standing in line,
we all fall head long; as we come-a-crop,
the tasers are always set to stun,
as high priests of power scheme & plot.

Unturning are; unlimited tides of time,
oceans render; we sailors, besot,
waves of deathly wordplay; minus puns,
it's the sum of; every jet & flot.

No matter how many bottled signals,
we've received or sent,
time always sends;
the final message in the end.

Yes, my friend, no matter how many bottled signals,
we've received or sent,
time always sends;
the final message in the end.

© poormansdreams
102 · Feb 7
Winter's Tale
A Gulf Stream wisp, whistles, languidly,
along, a recalcitrant breeze.
Speaking of temperature, angrily.
The Pavement, can't help, but, freeze.

Branches, embarrass themselves,
with, protruding bark, baring all.
Their dream, is to one day, be shelves.
When, a messianic carpenter, calls.

Teeth clench. Bold, Blizzard, barges in,
nervous Fangs, creek, in Her presence.
She peppers, horizons, white, arduous sin.
Tusks, sign, mute alarms, luminescent.

Coy burrows, open their arms, to hug,
their Creators, for crisp slumbers, ahead.
Moonlit Creatures, pull and tug.
At soil, Voodoo dolls, to stab, Winter, dead.

© poormansdreams
Advertising, and, selling; avarice.
From, a soap box, of; loving hate.
When, it's, screens, are, turned-off,
the blackened, square hole, is; cavernous.
When, it's, viewership, is, turned-on,
the captor's, uncleanly; reel in the bait.

Once, steeled, and, mettled, imaginations.
Welded, into; cerebral shackles.
Worn by, zombies; the meaty prisoners,
in, solitary cells, of; fabrication.
Webbed, lied-to, wrists; impressed upon,
misunderstand, their; upped hackles.

Furring clasps, around; synapses.
The servitude, of, stroke-ing, lost selves.
Capital flesh, is, imprisoned, in, the
cholesterol, of, shop aisles. It collapses.
"There's, MORE, in the back... Hurry up!!
Stop thinking... Stock the shelves!!"

Want's desires; outlived hope, and, outlast,
any, notion, or, sense, of, mind.
Audienced memories, are; captured,
by; forgetful, dredged, enmeshed; pasts.
'Compatriots of Togetherness', are;
canned myth; unlaughed. Re-runs; resigned.

© poormansdreams
95 · Feb 4
A Shrike's Thorn
-----------
To sit atop
a throne
of pikes
with swin-
ging ankles
grazing clo-
uds of milk.
Above the w-
eary world, a-
way, way up
high.
------‐----------------------------------------
Looking down at salty, earthed disl-
ikes, and infections rankled. When dre-
ssed in robes of silk, unfurled. Woven fr-
om a lowly worms squirming, teary cry.
-----------------------------------------------------------
­A squ-           And, i-                      Thorn
inting             t's pre-                      curls, r-  
  eye m-           y, all, a-                     ed. As
   akes              re tan                       our flo-
   out a              -gled.                       ck, slow-
   shrike.              ----                           ly, die.
      ----                                                      ----

© poormansdreams
A poem about the shrike, it's thorn and a throne.
89 · Feb 2
The Cataclysm Came
Can you imagine,
that day,
the cataclysm came?
Red horses, ride sanguine, mammoth waves.
The foaming flotsam, screams of despair.
Fear, hastily, carrying your loved ones, away.

Can you imagine,
that day,
the cataclysm came?
Mouths, where remarks, went to their graves.
Popcorned grief, by the handful, to share.
All over lands, desolate, embodied litter, lay.

Can you imagine,
that day,
the cataclysm came?
Futures, stubbed out, by cigaretting staves.
Clung nooses, made of, shoulder-length, hair.
Burnt edges, making skins, constantly, fray.

Can you imagine,
that day,
the cataclysm came?
Water, smoke and fire, devouring the caves.
Untold, vast, abyssal infernos, consume reeky lairs.
Inky, sapphire, carmine, chews leaden decay.

Can you imagine,
that day,
the cataclysm came?

Can you imagine,
the bray, that came,
from mother nature's, justice-shaped, shame?

You won't have to imagine,
for long,
it's, already, on it's way...

Can you imagine,
what they'll say,
when,
the cataclysm came?

© poormansdreams
28 · Feb 6
(b)utter(f)lies
An uncovered guise.
Our; downfall is by design.

With, clipped pinions. We are told to soar.
Without, the correct equipment.

Gritty, winged-kerchiefs are, now, only used,
to make; crashing deserts of long,
suffered eyes.

Our, flightless; bracketed letters,
autarky and prospects, are;
grounded, plucked and taken away.

By egocentric, corrupt; butterfly-catchers.

Conglomerates, politicians, monarchies,
police, pharmaceuticals, media companies,
and ****-anthropists. Masquerade,
as caterpillars, from ruddered heights.

Butterfly-catchers, in caterpillar costumes,
that constantly; covet, steal, and touch,
our; colourful, patterned aesthetics.

Without, any consent, or, otherwise.

Unmoved, they subject our, sincere, candid,
consciousness, to their; captivating nets.

Nets of; iniquitous,
crooked hallucinations.
Lined and constructed, with;
utter lies.

Consequently, we have become,
an apathetic collection, of; curtailed,
blinkered, cocooned, restricted...

...(b)utter(f)lies.
.
© poormansdreams

— The End —