"catapaulting" poems
It's that time of night when i get feverish
in my dreams, ******* girls with **** loaded,
thighs gloating and supple, pressure of ********
in between us, when I hear the thump.
A slamming; a jarring; a catapaulting into never.
Carlos lost his wife, she dipped in the middle of the night
when he'd passed out, she'd slipped out, gripped the kids
over their hidden mouths and whispered something about tipping out,
Pop had gone insane now.
Carlos broke a month later.
Told me and Ash to take everything. Exhaled a marlboro,
shucked his shoulders, ripped open that tiny Celica
and shifted. Gone.
Burns black-eyed into the carpet, bottles on the sill, pacifiers thrown like condoms--
haphazard, but carefully placed.
Now the people living there
throw the girl around,
she cries.
Dec 15, 2013
Dec 15, 2013 at 10:42 AM UTC
Here I stand,
naked as the moon.
Denude of childish tendencies to protect the ego's fragile skin.
Palms turned towards the continuum of space to expose the souls purity,
eradicate insecurities.
The sky steeps me in a soothing womb of chamomile and honey,
abloom of sweet, scattered opalescence as freckles upon her face
interlaced with familiarities.
Extending conceptualized singularity to experience eons of unified grace.
Anahata awaken, caress of winds breath
frolics across the topography of my being,
releasing the god-essence.
Activated through remembrance
that which is, was, and always will be.
Instilled in every cell, attune harmony.
Conduit, co-existing as student, teacher, observer, conductor,
cleanse.
Wash away layers of the veil to reveal.
Acknowledge, accept, expand, contract.
Embodiment of cyclic sacredness.
Wholeness.
She and I mirrored images,
reflected consciousness,
alchemical catalyst catapaulting immense distances inside an instant.
Elder, mother, kin, within.
Ammorea flame ablaze, raise sensory vibrations to these
potent mysteries.
Project positivity,
what is given is received, this is my prayer.
My offering.
Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 9:57 PM UTC