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Sally A Bayan Mar 20
1:00 am, 3:00 am ... most nights,
thirty minutes without warning,
restless air, chokes the pipes
when controlled, it explodes in bits
of yellow, orange , dark red and gray
skull seems to crack ... or , is it breaking now?
a darkness follows a wheezing,
desiring to spew all malaise  
expelling bad air, while chasing fresh air
praying a stillness soon rules .... . but , no,
the painful exertion persists
that  disturbing noise just goes on,
and racks one's whole being ... one's world
every rib quivers ... every fiber throbs  
eyes and veins start to bulge
as if to burst on their own...

,, ,, , for a while, a calm occurs ... yet ,
another dreaded episode lurks...

on a dark, restless night such as this,
one can only imagine
~ ~ ~ the undulating waves ~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~ and the blue waters ~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~ of the tranquil sea ~ ~ ~

~ ~ ~
Sally
~ ~ ~

Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
March 20, 2019

#dreaded episodes  #malaise  #severe cough
Slime-God Dec 2018
Pigment of the evening
overwhelming, by thought
artfully winding, and weaving,
for naught.
Though your vision is endless
your colour needs work,
it’s drab, unto darkness,
your pallet’s berserk.

You must change;

You must change how you’re feeling.
From bottom to ceiling,
I swear that you’re healing.
Disregard the unfeeling,
forget that you’re reeling.
Do not be caught kneeling
in thoughts now congealing-
to naught-
but the pealing-
of bells;

Or be lost.

Not to life,
but to cause.
Draped in strife,
trapped in was.
this one ended sooner than I had intended.
Slime-God Nov 2018
I am waiting to die
as I sit here staring,
blind, and uncaring
I am waiting to die.

For I once had dreamed
of a world where it seemed
that someone like me had a future;
I don’t

Though not for my failings
but simply for boredom-
as my mind is ailing
I pray for post-mortem.
Nick Stiltner Feb 2018
Eyes daze, pseudo-malaise,
The soft lament of wasted days.
Whatever needs be done be done,
As long as none insist on clearing
My veiling haze.

Dim those lights, turn down the sounds
My mind becomes crowded,
Elbows bruising.

The further pushed from,
The deeper pushed in.
Raised voices and wagging fingers
Have no effect but a
Deeper shove to the depths.

Firm hands held haughtily between strangers
A meeting with the spirit lost
To the deep end of the well,
The cracks in bone show age
Lux Falls Feb 2018
The darkness warms me
A thick liquid covering my skin
engulfing every pore
Drowning all of my sins.

I couldn’t tell you what wings feel like
Or what a smile does to my face
I did it once and it felt foreign
But the wind swept it away
To float off as particles into the sky.

I laughed, it might have been yesterday
or a season ago
It didn’t penetrate into my soul
Nor did it let me inhale any pure light
Humans find it addictive
That bright drug.
It hides itself
Better of late
That old companion
In my shadow
That perpetual  
Creeping malaise
Coiling inside my brain

Never springing
Only cr  e      e p             i n g

      Slithering

      Mesmerizing

        Paralyzing

Logic and common sense.
A lord of fear
Undermining mental
Immune systems
Playing my emotions

Like a violin concerto–
Devil's chord

Out of tune socially    
                                Mentally.

But then I see her
In her vulnerable position
That sweet  

        Innocent child/woman
Who props up my remains
Who takes me back
To simpler times
And youthful joys

When the hooded cobra
Was in embryonic form.
This one constant in my life
Keeps the cobra at bay

But it waits just outside the camp
Taunting me
Whispering just low enough
So I can't make out what
It is saying.

But how can one make out hissing?!

When you were always told
That you are fine
Nothing's wrong
Maybe a little neurotic sometimes

What can you do
Be reduced to a catatonic state?
Where can you hide but in your shadow?

                --Daniel Irwin Tucker
Lux Falls Apr 2017
Every night
Every smile you inflict me with
Takes another part of my heart
And everyday
Starts the same
I wake up dazed and aching
A numbed hurt and a little insane
Feeling a burn in my feet and a hole where my heart was
I stumble out and find myself following you
To the edges of the earth
Running to you
While you barely recognise
That I'm someone
Just in your rear view
Swanswart Aug 2016
Emperor patriarch enemy family
encyclopedia room flamboyance
and the minions of civilization bow
creviced foreheads etched
with hieroglyphic concentration
pantomiming the harmony of
banana splits dripping
on fireplace slippers
woven into the stories
your neighbors greeted you with
from the other side of the hedge

on the night the great comet arced
into our living rooms
and we kissed oh so
TV-like with the laugh track
clapping in time with the sprinklers
cha cha change the diaper ditty
after supper over done
under the influence
and in a fix
me another martini
extra olives
the smell of negligence
on her creamy pampered thighs
and the aromatic evidence
of lawn mower trim
on her teddy
bareness slipping away into comfort

the children wagering battle
plans with a mouse clicking
crayons left in box
cars matched tickets scratched
windows latched
onto
hobo toxic shock n awe
to see abandominiums
littering lots in crackopolis
virtual and simulated
between the in laws
and the outlaws
the grand apparentless routine
on display

could I borrow a toaster
or waffle with your wife
over the last stick of butter
backdoor banter about
Soldier of fortune
your last subscription
to the mercenary position of
the cul de sac coup d’état
taking place in spinning
class conscious of the fourth
estate third world second
generation first born zero
down home subdivisions
of the disenchanted
evening news is on excuse

that the whole thing is fixed
mortgages futures the lottery
tuition and everybody wins
army navy air force marines
corpses floating cross culture
reference guides to prescription
medication of futile society
Jonesing with the keeping
ups and out of product till
prime time reminds us
why we’re all here

waiting for the aliens
to excavate us.
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