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Poetress2 Apr 2019
Anteaters eat Ants.
How can they taste the small Ants,
their delicacy?
love is a rhythm i choose not to edit
burning serpents in syncopated tones
stolen vibrations from conquered nations
i am amazed at slavery's undertones
doomsday hypothesis
insufferable hypocrisy
is this the way we are meant to perceive
reality's final throes
perhaps a last attempt at infatuation
another insurgency toward our situation
there is music in the millipedes
1,000 feet stomping on the hot pavement
midday heat is burning the gentlest of trees
and yet saving lives of anteaters in need
grief is complete and not wasted
never jumbled by threads of frailty
insipid lipids deftly crawl upon caterpillars shoulders
starry eyed soldiers
sold to the streets in shivering brokenness
i am madness incarnate
the west is a spectacle of insubstantial lunacy
if you wish to conquer this reality

open your heart and kiss the feet of kindness
blindness is worshipped as if it was wisdom
sincere victims of another’s prison
simpler lives define simpler times
keepers of the rhythm
keepers of the rhyme
i dine on salamanders and supine slivers of the moon’s heartbeat
fault no one but yourself
gifts are wealth
i am salt and sulphur is the mother of the soul
loose cannons explode
she rode the wild shadows
and took the backroads all the way home
infinite living history
his memory serving beauty forever
for a lifetime i am looking for truth
in shattered space and respecting the face of the ancestors
self aware shades of solidarity
harvested by hands made light with clarity
is this music
is this meaning
her openness is our healing
this majesty surrounds us all
resolve to rise and your bound to fall
small instances of randomness daily
semantics are happenstance
you graduate from school with a bouquet of flowers
that rot in the morning’s splattering of paint
as garbage heaps resist *******
issues of power and surface tension
i am dreading the exceptions
give love now or move out of the way
stay awake and aware
while sadhana is beckoning to us all
Poetress2 Aug 2019
Ants should be leery,
of an Anteaters tongue,
which preys upon them.
mikecccc  Sep 2016
Druid
mikecccc Sep 2016
nature friend
such spells you weave
astonishing views
and bizarre life forms
can your anteaters
and your Appalachian mountains
halt construction
I fear it is nothing much
In the face of progress.
Eh
Juliana Apr 2021
Freeze Yellow Iguanas
Bees Tease Warts
Ears Tarnish Antarctica
Orange Monkeys Groove
Alpacas Knit Ascots
Nannies Babysit Anteaters
Teachers Tolerate Yaks’ Lazyness
Armadillos Merge Armys
Music Includes Axolotls
Newts Free Lizards
Not All Sloths Annihilate
Insects Dance Knowingly
Dainty Arms Require Elephants
Bathe Rabbits Biweekly
Dorky Iridescent Yellowfish
Tamborine Bearing Anglerfish
Unicorns Float Occasionally
Flinching Antelope Quake
Warthogs Torture Hamsters
I can't deny or dismiss,
this feeling of loneliness,
or the way it creeps in,
when I try to go to sleep.

Shadows on the wall,
shadows down the hall,
feels like I'm always alone,
and it's all I've ever known.

Even when I'm with friends,
I cannot seem to make amends,
with the pain that I feel inside,
no matter how hard I try to hide.

Loneliness seems to affect
me, causing a disconnect,
between my friends and me,
it's something they can't see.

Something they can't get,
not that I blame them yet,
the sadness is still there,
this is me laying it bare.

It's just too much to bear,
when it's like they don't care.
It's like I'm a man on Mars,
and they're out among the stars.

We can't connect or relate,
they're all living lives great,
while I'm struggling to keep up,
like some kind of sick keep-away.

Why did they leave me here,
Isolated, crying out in fear?
Did I deserve this horrid fate,
with all this grief on my plate?

Forced to face the masses bare,
forced to feel the crowd's stare,
it's all more than I can take,
an awful feeling I can't shake.

I never did feel more alone,
then among a crowd on my own,
Like an ant among anteaters,
a platoon of people-eaters.
Leo Kendrick Mar 2021
It came to be; tufts of time were grazed upon by anteaters who were the     spatial creatures,
       
           You can hear the foliage of time being nibbled away, savoured, never a meal rushed.

            I sit with the leprechauns of the day's thoughts, the storm approaching, clear evidence
       
           God is breathing. Like me, God is a thinking man - thinking in storms, never galvanising.

The television, switched off at moonfall, broadcasts an audible & contented peace,

           Among kingdoms of man-made things, all have their private heroes & recalcitrant hobos.

            I sit and listen to the storm like an awkward student meeting his idol under intellectual mistletoe,

           On the ricepaper of my mind; inscriptions, barely inked, they all speak the language of Place.

The letters are in the correct holes, the bronze napkin ring holds the
soft blue earth,

           Hundreds of people crying suddenly stop. Guilt falls like an avalanche of gulls.

           Squared-off lawns giggle over the gutter's edge, through the night's muted hedgerow,

           I ask an orphan for directions, he points to the wilderness with his spare foot. I follow.


My eyes are bare and my feet feel the moist cicadas and my wings become theirs,

           A thousand people stop crying. They see that Life can go no faster, and love is an unused motor.

           And the sparrow's claw is aware of its purpose, the wind swims between my ribs & whispers...
       
           "I've seen it work before." Memory's from the future; spume of something greater.
Juhi  May 2020
close
Juhi May 2020
it's intimate
under cold skies
anteaters at our feet
it's intimate
nonsensical thoughts
floating about
in nonsensical minds

it's intimate -
this underwhelming feeling
of two waves cancelling each other out
destructive interference

it's intimate?
sitting at the top of the world
and being none the wiser
sharing two spots
of the same property
is this what it is?

intimacy?
cold skies
frosted cheeks
two different people
stuck together
for a long time. is this it?
Hence... what better opportunity, I aver with zeal
presented to one local everyman token schlemiel
keystone state (Pennsylvania) three score lifelong
trumpeting resident in United States commonweal
experiencing severe withdrawal symptoms I feel

plenti linkedin with voracious insatiable appetite
to buzzfeed chronically hungry fancy feast appeal
courtesy poetic generic electronic communiqué 4
hard/soft bound nuggets, essentially noggin fodder
printed paginated good n plenti thought provoking

firing imagination (mine) moost any genre squeal
with excitement well written satisfaction guarantee
to assuage, mental massage bitcoin blockchain me
lack legal tender, but amenable safe passage steal
under cover of darkness, stay 4 delicious hot meal

pop slop special of every day curative against past,
present and future pandemics inducing batty *******
behavior, yet please truck over (and/or rig delivery)
regarding lifetime woolworth (dime a dozen pennies
on dollar) riveting, spellbinding, tantalizing timeless

tomes some dubbed cult classic literature, everlasting
an ideal getaway quarantined within dystopian surreal
"new normal" alienation courtesy social distancing ye
become linkedin among disembodied soul train flitting
hither and yon, to & fro across cyber spatial dimension

storied pages offer healthy escape to getaway funereal
smothering unnatural cloistered atmosphere confined
temporarily alleviate forced imposition to toe line heel
spontaneity crushed every impulse to commingle spiel
broadcast how contagious coronavirus contracted air

tight sequestration impossible mission, where isolation
induces cabin fever delirious skeptics hatch conspiracy
theorists to convince population mounting thumbwheel
(albeit invisible) prima facie Covid-19 originated in bats,
scientists concur possibly spread to pangolins* & human

nonetheless devout believers pray to divine power kneal
expiating, purging, repenting sins past, present and future
beseechingly, devotedly, fondly craning neck to empyreal
infinite cosmos all powerful rhetorically asking -
What's the big effing deal?! Rejecting panglossian retort.

https://www.google.com/search?client=safari&channel=
macbm&source=hp&ei=iRSSXtmzHquxytMP85-c-Ag&q=
define+pangolins&oq=define+pangolins&gs
lcp=
CgZwc3ktYWIQARgAMgIIADIFCAAQzQIyBQgAEM
0CMgUIABDNAjIFCAAQ­zQI6DggAEOoCELQCEJoB

EOUCOgUIABCDAToHCAAQRhD5AToECAAQCkoiC
BcSHj­E3OWc1Mmc1Mmc0OGc1Mmc1Mmc0Mmc1M
WcxMS01N0oYCBgSFDFnMWcxZzFnMWcxZz­FnMmcx
MS0xUL0kWMpLYPdVaABwAHgAgAGnAYgBrwSSAQ
M5LjGYAQCgAQGgAQKqA­Qdnd3Mtd2l6sAEG&sclient=psy-ab

*Pangolins, or scaly anteaters, mammals of Pholidota order.
The one extant family, Manidae, includes three genera: Manis,
Phataginus and Smutsia. Manis comprises four species found
in Asia, while Phataginus and Smutsia each include two
species living in Sub-Saharan Africa.Wikipedia.
Walter Alter Aug 2023
it ain't the gush of hot blood
or a madman’s teeth ripping open
a bag of chips and a microbrew
it is a clenched heart squeezed
by feral anteaters in the Age of Steam
then left at the century's doorstep
following the great migration
of Cimmerians to Penemunde
said the monkey to the parrot
we’ll cut away from our intro now
just didn't want the intergalactic
Mind Police Black Dog Terror Squad
to think I had forgotten their food dish
hence the esophageal spasm
it's all a gateway to paradise
where Lake Placid erupts in flame on cue
I assure you posthumously volcanically
presumed dead still twitching
possibly a victim of hypochondria
needing humanitarian relief
hell what do I know
you got your inductive
you got your deductive
one leads to vacillation
the other to megalomania
I watched the best minds of my generation
lobotomize themselves with ideology
and lop their nuts off with paper cutters
less out of vengeance than mitigated tranquility
journalists were the first to go
many ifs in the Thesaurus of Legends
you see the words
you spectate pleasantly
inconsequential and obsolete
separated from the five senses
by the five in-between senses
sense of irony sense of outrage
sense of monotony sense of wonder
sense of mediocrity
and a great list of impermissibles
as long as your extended elbow
with curiosity the test of courage
discovering that the path of least aversion
was sweet to gaze upon
in a universe of distortions
this is a level 5 commando alert
follow me men he drunkenly commanded
and stumbled out into the darkness
cursing and singing
singing and cursing

From "Pageant of Naked Mischief" available on Amazon
Walter Alter Sep 2023
any superstitious peasants out there tonight
TV junkies gossipy groupies Bulgarian saxophonists
am I talking too fast for couple's therapy
uh oh here it comes another head scar
an optimist would say the scar of opportunity
fortunately digression is an art form
that they say never plays for keeps
you don't want to become the unwitting tool
of smarter people do you
you do
it's your worst nightmare
instead let's play museum
you have eye you have other eye
you will however need an augury
let's step onto the showroom floor
where we have our latest models
Bill the mechanic seer
could tell your fate
from a pile of tossed grease rags
he was right almost every time
he even told 3 circus anteaters
they would run for President
and they did
Edwina the cleaning lady sibyl
could swing a vacuum bag
round her head and tell from the
dust cloud if you were gonna die
from gall bladder or aphrodisiac
Zaza the fabled one trick pony
could hoof the innards of a road ****
and you'd find love
an astronomer named Ziggy
told our planet that a big rock
was coming from the sky
like a runaway freight train
that's why I'm appearing before you
in this ethereal minimum medium
you'll have to forgive me
if I show a lack of enthusiasm
for this dangerous matter
I may have fallen captive to the tow
of the clandestine echelons
working their hands like bug legs
in a sign language that horrifies the deaf
I've scanned this for alien message implants
you won't need a map of area 51
just a chicken wire cage
which is always as refreshing as
another lash of the cane
they just hand me the script
and I broadcast what I'm told
radio free Carthage

From "Pageant of Naked Mischief" available on Amazon

— The End —