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breathe in…breathe out…

poison in our waters, our lands
poison in our wombs, our mouths
when is daylight? when is nighttime?
i no longer taste, see, feel
the separation
but you can’t take me.

breathe in…breathe out…

i once had a thought
forget what it could be
something subtle
distant motion, hushed voices
a pungent stench
clenched fists, a declaration
no, my memories are a cloud of ash.

breathe in…breathe out…

i desperately fear  
and desperately need
the tainted oxygen
of gray smoke
dancing through nostrils, lips,
my blackened lungs
a dance that mocks my mortality
as i slip back into the darkness
of my mind.
Solar Nov 2020
Meet me among the numbing fields
where the cream narcissus grows.

Where my desperate human voice sings
against the flow of the autumn winds.

Do you hear the pillars of my empathy crumbling?

The wicked Imbolc has passed,
leaving me naked and sick in the light
of longer days.

Yellow-trumpeted blooms of each joss flower
are caught swaying to the emptying sounds
of my apathy.

Where I have been patiently waiting for
the flowering blood of hyacinth.
Myrrdin Sep 2020
I retreat into the quiet world
Where wind sweeps softly
Through fields of poppies
Whispering sedative lullabies
While clouds of cotton roll by
Basking in salted sunshine
Light dances softly in the valley
To the songs of the morning

I blink my eyes open
You're still screaming

I drift back to the quiet world.
Paul J V Jul 2020
(Internet dating in the COVID lockdown)

Floating again in cyberspace,
hopping from cloud to cloud
hoping and hoping to face
her placed but not embraced

Head spinning, not acid spaced
nor aced in love misplaced,
smiles at angel eyes and face,
Silver *****, is it  legally laced?  

Left wondering when she might drop around
to unpack the cosmos or something profound,
or not profound, a quirky man, not unsound
but tossed on the life affirming shore of hope,
hope we might, in the line of mortal time elope.                          
                  ----------- O ----------
copyright 2020 Paul J. V
Wayne Wysocki Oct 2019
A poppy is pretty and bright
And its juice is so far out of sight
    That the smoke in a den
    Full of ***** old men
Makes all of them high as a kite.
Copyright © 2019 Wayne Wysocki
Poppy sways on the edge of the garden
like some exquisite ***** dancing for her own pleasure
rather than crumbs.
She's full fed of her toxins, intoxicated
She drears  left then right, bows a bit....
The curves are stem so peculiar.
How she slipped perfect hooks and turns
into that no wood, indiscriminate thing
bending, looking so supple.
but it would snap in fragility.

Oh poppy, I sigh, chin resting on my palm....
thinking of the warm feeling of harvest.
Herbs and flowers are my favorite
Toxic yeti Mar 2019
I went to the tattoo parlour
Hoping to get something
That tells my life
Yet realistic and 3D
So I ask for
An ***** poppy
For I was misunderstood
For most of my life
Like the plant
Containing two huge
For the two
People who understand
And love me
When society doesn’t.
Amoy Mar 2019
In the ***** fields the red plant glows
Shining bright row by rows
Highlighting our opiates blight
Soldier by soldier I save tonight
Ease their pain do it right
For they may stray towards the light
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