My mother handed me power with a crown,
regal and beautiful.
She birthed me—
breech, rounded head.
I became unstuck and in the world all at once.

She slid me courage with my grandmother's pearl-handled revolver,
slapping me conscious,
a stark look at the world men built.
Deliberate moves, eye contact,
teeth bared.

Memories passed through a bleeding heart.
The women before us cut off their right ******* like Amazons—
gashes of emotion she couldn't stop.
I stopped.

I cannot be shook or unmade,
fired with clay and star metals.
Steady, steady stayed.
I bend with the wind.

The queens in my blood are at home in me.
I swoop down, landing with both feet.
There is fire in my ground.

Life needs a fire of happiness inside me.

The one inside me died when people refused to even have a look at my independently published novels.

I tried to write books inspired metaphorically by my own life-threatening coma-inducing high-speed bike accident. When the Indian publishers rejected my manuscript, terming it as poorly written or full of proofing errors, I self-published my novels on the Amazon Kindle Direct Publishing Program.

So far, I have successfully achieved twice as much success than what I envisioned in my first novel. I completed my graduation despite that accident, just like Akshant did so in the novel. Then I even got the M.Tech on institutional scholarship. Afterwards, I even started a PhD course in Animal Biotechnology from the same ICAR-National Dairy Research Institute as my M.Tech on institutional scholarship, but had to quit it when COVID19 struck. I started preparing for various competitive recruitment exams.

I qualified as a Probationary Officer with the Bank of India through the IBPS PO/MT CRP-XII, but joined the State Bank of India as a Probationary Officer because that was a better option.

As I had cleared even SSC-CGLE AAuO exam, I later quit the SBI PO job when I received the call letter from my present job.

Some people have even dared to defame my novels by rating them badly on Amazon.

Now I have to accept that I can't ever expect my friends, relatives, or colleagues to read my novels. I'll just focus on my job and forget that I wasted 14 years in writing and self-publishing the 9 titles on Amazon as Kindle eBooks and hardcopies. Maybe my depression will help me passively **** myself one day.

My blood pressure is already much lower than normal. Vitamin supplements help, but temporarily.

So many artists have died due to depression. I shall not be the first one. People can go berate my novels on Amazon. My parents tell me that since I have a job now, I shouldn't focus on my creative expression.

Body

Let me love and care for the art piece
of your body- every pulsating touch of your
spasms. Jumping wildly; while washing
me in your spring water on top a mountain
of passions. I’ll spurt within you, from its tip.

And in kind; let the wetness of your lips
sooth my skin. Kissed by your sensual soul, as
it echoes every word of thirst, running down your
throat; chasing after every breath we lose in
a moment.

                       Still, let us not love in haste.

Amazon Queen

I gaze at you, as my sprouting rose in
bloom. But not something so delicate; she is
tall, shapely, and sturdy— my Amazon Queen
that keeps me in the centre of her rainforest.

As she lets my words water her floret by
their tip- its warmth and gentleness spoke of
a love so deep and fulfilling.

*******

Oh, how she stimulates my eyes,
as I make out with her eye’s persuasion;
my mind often rehearses how I’ll love her
in it’s imaginations- my mind’s perfect
simulation;

For our desires are much sweeter,
by every bite of her smooth chocolate skin
I adore her more than I would have
yesterday- to quietly bless each step
she’ll take tomorrow. And a reason for me
to kiss her feet.

Moist

Surely as the night is washed by the gentle rains-
I have these saturated thoughts, pondering how
she’ll drown me over another night’

As she could never
have the most without I in the middle;
her underwear feels so moist.


Climactic Prelude & Conclusion

Would you love to experience a climactic
prelude; a middle so sweet in its time;

While my eyes ripen at the sight of your
ripening fruit,

Oh, so sweet in its time, let me capture
and savour that juicy fruit,

For yes indeed we had fallen in love-
but let not that fruit eventually fall;

From its tree, to rot off its vine; let me bite
you as mine- to taste your heaven’s ecstasy;

In this climactic prelude; I promise the middle
is filling, and its conclusion won’t be short lived.

Hey everyone.  It has been quite a journey here.  I have come to think of you as family.  I love you all.  I am happy to announce that my book, Seedy Town Blues, Collected Poems is available on Amazon, All formats available. Thank you all.  If the link doesn't work, just search the title on Amazon.  If you do purchase the book, would you mind leaving a review?  All of you are great.
https://www.amazon.com/stores/Thomas-W.-Case/author/B0CL2RKDGX?ref=aprdr&storeref=ap_rdr&isDramIntegrated=true&shoppingPortalEnabled=true

I work on a river bank in the rainforest of an Amazon warehouse
where the torrential downpour of consumerism never subsides
filling the conveyor belt tributaries flowing through the industrial jungle
so commodity pisces can swim to my village at the basin—pack line 2
where the village folk run a benevolent catch and release program
providing bags and boxes for physical deflection and germ prevention
parts, presents, and propaganda all prudently properly packaged
finally released to follow the river to their eighteen wheel hearse
transporting them to a behemoth with an insatiable appetite
it gets a primitive thrill out of being a picky eater
throwing away anything it doesn't want
letting the vultures circle the trash pile
knowing its waste will attract new feeders
salmon swimming upstream thinking they'll become leviathans.

In Xanadu did Whatsoever
a stately pleasure planet decree
Where Amazon, the sacred River run
through Forests, measureless to Man.

And here were trees tall as the sky
and leopards, snakes and
birds of the brightest colours.

But oh! Mankind began to burn the trees,
drill dramatic chasms, build walls and towers
Melt the polar ice and turn the oceans into lifeless seas.

So in this tumult, once,
a sixty nano metre string of RNA came,
invading thousands and thousands of humans
and prophesying the end of our kind.

A vision in a dream then I had:
a simple utopia of rare device.
Could we revive our lost ties with Nature
we would heal our world and soul

And so with voice loud and long,
with flashing eyes and floating hair,
I say: Hey you out there. Beware, beware!

As the
Supper moon
Shines through one of prohodna
Eyes
Into the cave
The shamaness
Does her ritual
According to the
Moons closeness,