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S Bharat  Apr 9
The Master
S Bharat Apr 9
The Master

The Master had a dog
And a docile goat.
Once he went through
Jungle in the boat.

There, he left his dog
Known as bad hat.
The dog returned home
And received a pat.

The Master's was then
A sweet darling pet.
It made the dog happy,
The goat very upset.

The goat annoyed none,
Made no mistake.
Still she was ******* to
A rusty-iron stake.

S. Bharat
RJP  Feb 12
Placid (part 1)
RJP Feb 12
Chicks out of season
Scamper subtle fear
Creation torn up
Jagged and exact
Mud and green beaten
Senselessly into
Concrete submission
For the pleasure of
No honey-like dust
Being dragged over
Woven corridors
Void sovereign feeling
Imprisoned stare blank
Distrust unerring
Greed and Ambition
Little boxed in hills
Animate in guilt
Projected from those
Who like to point out
'Look, look its something'
Turgut Berk Nov 2018
I need no one
Except myself;
No one can threaten me,
As I escape myself
Why do they try it?
Why do they compete
When I run away from them?
No one knows it,
As I struggle with myself.
WS Warner  Oct 2011
Hollow
WS Warner Oct 2011
Static, memories
Emanating, separating  
The postcard- perfect
Still life speaks
From its storied past.
Invisible, to drift
Among  
The florid aphorisms,
Ending in
Deleterious debris,
Aftermath of
The inevitable.

Empty room, echo hollow
Tabula rasa -
Carpet clean, quite candid in it's
Return to callow.
Consciousness athirst,
Absorbing phenomena
Effervesce, inquisitive
Ideas foment,
Sealed inside a question.
The what -
Against the narrow
Scarcity,
And fatigue of should.

A tender malleable
Youth,
Betrayed, under
An assumed decorum -
Residue of truth,
Flattened emotion
Privations of a self
Unheard;
Misplaced affirmation,
Buried pathologies  
In architecture
Fear manifests symbolic.

Harboring apathy
The lunacy of pious
Pedigree,
Import contagion,
Fetters of benignity
Doubt and indecision  
Into ******
Cognizance,
Fallow spirits
Seep fumes of decay,
Credulity bleeds a human stain.

Social edifice, inoculated  
Heirs of neurosis;
Palpable, sensual pain
And transience, though
Tacit - remain,
Our haunted history,
The blind hyperbole,
Maudlin
Forbearance, this haven,
A portrait
Of immaculate condition,
Nurtured with precision
Under sterling pretense.

Provincial domicile -
House beautiful,
Savage irony -
Unseen treasure
Innocence unabridged,
Faces, tiny creations;
Compliant vessels
Wounded,  
While modernism murmurs  
Its promise.

Brave New World,
In a late model sedan,
Domestic ranch on a
Corner lot,
Suburban natives,
Silence means security.
The misunderstood
Speak louder -
Consumerism beneath    
Unvarnished ambition,
Never could
Repair the brokenness within...

© 2011 & 2018 W. S. Warner
zebra Dec 2018
come here with the jackknife and see what I'm made of
i'm **** candy she said
taffy and blood
a steaming deli
doomed chicken of the sea
doll parts, splayed pomegranates
femurs left in a ******; wish bones
eviscerations to admire
peaches and cream sprinkles
skin like cold grey soap
barbed wire ******'s spas
like a toilet flushing
spirographic squiggles
at the museum of modern art

video girl
video girl
video girl
like
butter flies flutter bye

dead movie star dancing
a matinee cyclops
everybody wants a glitter ****
incandescent candy store
a piece of her to take home in little bite size chunks
in a heart shaped pink box leaking red meat
enshrined crucifix; kosher
an **** of heretics like me
and maybe like you

god is whatever is in your heart

i pray to modernism
to be saved
by *** death and resurrection
and a bigger ****
impregnation ghoul
like a solar ******* hero
*** heroine
a Bedouin and a Jew ******* each other off
in a New York City
Holiday Inn
while the Kabbalah and Koran read each other

I packed the suit case
with a yellow mucous colored rubber tube, a razor and stockings
I don't know what ill do with it, but ill think of something

God spins death
so why cant you; or are you to good for that
albeit a narrow construction
to carve my fate in such short order

ill get into my short short funeral skirt and girly bobbles
ill go up and down on you like a yoyo
sea Venus foaming *******
til you flip me over
a deli sandwich
and cut me in two
splattered ketchup
on the blue plate special; extra mayo
while a huddled sabbath of *******, extra ******
groan like Pisgah turned to mulch
indigo shards suicide note
ending in
i don't mind
and precise instructions
please chew slowly while I **** on your teeth
stuck rot
while still kissing you
better bring a napkin and floss

you know I would get hot,
seeing my one way ticket next to your return one

wish we could
**** candy
pastel chew
blood bubblegum
melts in my mouth like quicksand
hissing fruity drops looping
you go down like squid
clawing your way back up half chewed with that hurt look
making wet mud holes blink
dark vapors tear my eyes

you wont need a head stone
your feet will look good sticking out of the ground
with anklets
a fashionista
except upside down
your funeral; a foot kissing ritual
religion; follow dead feet, to paradise

head down *** up
you know; the position of power

your the new aeon
grave stone arches with toe ring twinkles
rectitude striving
hot head buried in dirt
antagonizing worms
because your to hot to chew
like molten core
a zombie ******
velvet tabernacle
smooth leg art
and pretty pointy toes
ascending
where glitter lights shine
pickle brine
green
in a
Promethean ******* ballet
phantasmagorias dark embrace

this is no ordinary love
dialog of paraphilias
surreal horror subversive
a poem about the non-rational sacred
untethered poetry
song of a shattered world


Across the spectrum of religious experiences—from the archaic and chthonic experience of sacred power to organized religion—surrealism arises in that elusive threshold between the sacred and the profane, between the illuminations and of everyday life and the more formal expressions of the sacred. The mysterious, contradictory nature of this liminal zone is embodied in surrealist literature and art: matter becomes metaphor; the ordinary object becomes extraordinary; and images evoke emotional disturbance and ambiguity rather than specific ideas. The ambivalent force of the surreal resists conventional rational categories of intellectual discourse. Behind its elusive potency of mood and charged associations lie the fundamental ambivalence and non rational power of the sacred.
—Celia Rabinovitch, Surrealism and the Sacred
zebra  Oct 2017
NEUTERED
zebra Oct 2017
oh better not say that
mind of hell
tongue of heaven
better not think depraved
veiled demon, licking ******* for car payments
God watches

what will people think

am i good person
birthday face
shut eyed stiff
not dangerous, like a gun in the face

did i say the right thing,
cypher of morality
the knot of good, a slow strangle
a frightened worm
wont risk tears

eeek
here come the scissors

technology brains wired like weaponized monkeys
eater of crumbs
heatless heart ransomed for the ******* rent

can i evaporate
like a dead cat in a black box
better then tripping all over my self

strings attached with hooks
on shunted limbs
a relic of modernism,
office life

talking scapegoats hissing
always haunted by what's missing

guts spilling through clutched fingers
apologizing to a faceless crowd of sea shells
and bagged heads

minds like the small screens
sitting all day

frenetic fingers and burning eyes
exhaling only

there's a part of me thats been crying since birth

be careful
what you do
in the land of the free and the brave
zebra  Dec 2018
NEUTERED
zebra Dec 2018
oh better not say that
weaving tongue
better not cut my ***** off
with malignant algorithm's
better not think lions shredding hyenas
while veiled demons lick ******* for car payments
and boarder children gnash heaping tears of blood
desperate for their parents loving arms
and soft troubled kisses

God looks upon his creation and says
"and it is good"

what will people think
am i a nice person
birthday face
shut eyed stiff
not dangerous, like a gun in the face

did i say the right thing,
cypher of morality
the knot of good, a slow strangle
a frightened worm
that wont risk tears

eeek
here come the scissors

technology brains wired like weaponized monkeys
eater of crumbs
heatless heart ransomed for the ******* rent

can i disappear
like a dead cat in a black box
better then tripping all over my self

strings attached with hooks
to digital shunted limbs
relics of modernism,
office life
boring like seamless gray linoleum
talking scapegoats hissing

always haunted by what's missing
guts spilling through clutched fingers

apologizing to a faceless crowd of sea shells
and bagged heads

spread sheet minds like computer screens
sitting all day, tabulators
data schmata
narrow chairs; bellies cascade and bloat
frenetic fingers and burning eyes
lungs exhaling only
robo faux; shut up
happy chappy snappy
key punchers
punched out

there's a part of me thats been crying since birth

be careful
the wolf is at the door
in this land;
the land of the free and the brave
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