"catapulted" poems
Feathers glimmer and shine
As though covered in fish oil
I lubricate the brain
As I slip through the sky
With a frictionless flicker
My lightening wings
Brain waves rapidly fluctuate
Perfect balance held
Between left and right
Each wing a hemisphere
As they beat and beat
Accelerating into hyper speed
80 to a hundred or more
Beats per second
As though injected
With a sonic speed
Synapses bursting and exploding
Exponentially connecting
Blistering wing speed
I become electric
My circuits exploring
Rippling and flickering through paper
My brain comes alive
Flashing multicolored lights
Like the cities nights
But still spaces collect around me
As I am buffered from the world
Perfectly still though standing
On an invisible ledge
I hold my mind in place
While I hum in space
Head down I drop my beak
Into a funnel of concentration
As I tunnel into trumpets
Penetrating deep I flower
In new knowledge
Polar aspects of mind
Released through coherent communication
Set free with coordination
I seek to marry chalk and cheese
As I hold the balance
Between two worlds
Flashing synapses firing
And combusting
Against pointed concentration
My mind juggles two *****
Expanding into their fullness
Expressing vibrant color
My slippery slender beak
Slips and slides in
As I flutter through pages
I discover new unexpected surprises
Problems solved, Startling adventures
And puzzles completed
I find the sugary syrup
The delicate delicious sweet spot
With the thrill of falling domino's
Spilling and cascading
Many ripples fanning out
Through my mind
I find freedom
Each ripple massaging my mind
I am catapulted into outer space
I dance from fact to golden fact
As I am propelled forward on stardust
My momentum shoots me forward
I bounce and bounce
My mind becoming unbounded
I enjoy this great Hummingbird delight
Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 1:05 PM UTC
When I'm near you I'm anxious.
At any moment I can explode.
A coloration of floral hues printed across the sky,
Covering you; the night.
Appropriately expanding.
A sizzle awaiting detonation.
Catapulted high.
Nothing to do but fall.
Fall in love with you.
Plummeting down unable to sit still.
Your hand the stripe that surrounds me.
Stars; echo in a crackle.
Change is inevitable.
The glory of being held close,
Counting every second until we burst into pieces.
Wandering around your essence.
Wandering in turquoise yellows & purple strawberries exhaled in smoke.
The moon forever jealous
Every night July everlasting.
The closer I get to you
Jul 2, 2018
Jul 2, 2018 at 9:43 PM UTC
a future promise
a hard on like bundled gym socks
in stuffed blue jeans
a future threat
a shriveled phallus wrinkled obsolete
she remembered fondly
being beaten drum chatter
and seized like slow roasted
fall off the bone pulled pork
****** raggedy Ann
catapulted beyond Euboean heavens
ravaging scrotums Gordian ******
with her wild fiendish mouth
drinking a river of
haloed golden showers
spit and ****
in a runaway hot house of glistening pink
buttery spires
engorging her macerated orifices
half eaten radish
chocking on hordes
of big do do *****
a ****** face; cross eyed
Babylon abalone
bashed Ashly mashed
begging for
a face full of swinging *****
like caped chandeliers
trotting faint giggles
in a constellation
of ruptured arteries
and thick sparked ****
on her knees
milk glitter faced
scared with happiness
she counted one smiling bruise at a time
her badge of calamities
black and blue silhouettes
grinning invitations like party favors
without a crease of shame
her skin rapturous
spackled patchworks
bled like torrential fountains summer tide
while every body had fizzy red ice phlebotomies
and steamed through her drooling tumble pie
lust ***** totem
house of winding labyrinths
honey pumped transfusion
flush on blush
opera of tangled limbs
red pulse wedding flowers
slick ***** palace
blood tongued orchard
caressing knotted mooned
**** spill
Jan 14, 2019
Jan 14, 2019 at 2:22 PM UTC
Sitting in a restaurant
Over a cup of coffee
And silently having our dinner
With hardly anything exciting
Either to brag or blather
My eyes got hooked
On the occupants of the table, next
Two kids, seated on small chairs
A boy and a girl, obviously a pair of twins
Adorably cute, their father, so young
Who having placed the order
Were in wait for their turn
Carrying a tray, as the waiter arrived
With something of the plainest kind,
Small cartons of French fries,
Bottles of sauce and plain ice cream
The little faces gleamed in excitement
Their beaded eyes riveted,
And their heads bobbed in happy approval
As their Dad opened the carton
And placed before them
French fries sprinkled with some sauce
The children, sprang to their feet
With an upsurge of delight,
Jumping up and down,
Clapping their hands and shouting!
At a small distance, sat we
‘Solemnly’ consuming our meal
With nothing to titillate our palette
Or excite our toned nerves
I thought;
How, in course of time,
Everything becomes a routine ritual
And what stark difference
Between our subdued composure
And the overwhelming excitement of kids!
They haven’t learned yet
That such open expression of emotions,
Is not in keeping with accepted norms
To what peaks of joy, they get catapulted
With mere trifles and silly baubles
While we remain ever at the bottom
Unable to be lifted up
Is this what we call aging?
Or is it
The death of spring
The summer’s dirge
Autumn’s mellowing
Or the chill wave of winter’s blast??
Jan 11, 2017
Jan 11, 2017 at 6:39 AM UTC
The dark winter sky was draped with stars whose dainty shimmer
mimicked the sprinkle of snow
caught up in the crisp winter breeze.
The white flakes winked as they came to rest upon a silent sheet of ice,
accumulating on the sleek surface until abruptly–
a clatter of loud and excited voices interrupted.
Skates slashed and
sticks crashed onto the cold, hard ice.
A black puck cascaded haphazardly across the rink, bombarding the once settled snow.
Chunks of ice catapulted recklessly,
the smell of sweat rose relentlessly into the wind.
Furious and frozen wisps of breathe were choked,
as bitter cold filled eager lungs.
The ruthless weather, however, could scarcely graze the laughing dimples on rosy cheeks.
But just as hastily the clatter was silenced,
the commotion halted.
Footprints crunched softly away, their noise secretly swept away
by the sprinkle of snow
caught up in the crisp winter breeze.
Aug 30, 2012
Aug 30, 2012 at 11:17 AM UTC
(Scene 1)
Everything was all in slow motion after getting the call
Preparing myself for what it is I will witness next
Suddenly I find myself slowing my walk to a crawl.
I read it over and over through the graphic text
Precised detailed instructions with vivid accounts
Chapter nineteen was written in words that were perplexed.
In the protective cushion of my mind
A hidden secret that is buried deep starts to come alive
Am I awake or am I am asleep?
So confused for I'm beginning to think,
When I dream is it real and when I'm awake is it a dream?
I now feel something starting to trickle and secrete inside me
In the base of my skull I feel the pain.
A pine cone shaped gland is now convulsing and quivering
It causes me to dream at night and it always showed me the truth
It gave upon me the gift of prophesy
and all the answers to life's many mysteries
also in my transformation it turned me into a clever soothsayer.
Why me, why was I plagued?
I know it will happen for the last time in my life
A pleasant and peaceful journey it will take me
As soon as I give up the fight and race through the dark tunnel heading to the light.
An imaginary horror movie now begins to play
Given me visions of what I will see before the end of the day.
I know where I am going; I know what I am going to pick up
Yes I have a clue on just what I am getting into.
A dog whistles sound I hear the constant ringing in my ears
I always see the vapors around my face
Drifting like smoke in my peripheral sight I see them all dance.
I'm I hearing voices in my head or am I going insane?
In an instant blink I am catapulted into a cold room
Thirty nine bags deep in there frozen slumber they laid
No matching numbers with tags could be found
Through another set of double doors I enter
Exposing another four all sprawled out on silver tables.
My eyes now become fixed on the bizarre hollow sight
Of the one's with the harvest of their spongy matter.
Absorbing all the sights and smells
I now found what I came looking for
In a rush to see what’s in my grab bag
I race now to get him out the door
and to stop stepping on with my new shoes,
All the blood that is upon the floor.
To be continued.......
(SirCARSr. 10-24-12)
Nov 8, 2012
Nov 8, 2012 at 12:17 PM UTC
Alexander k Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya;[email protected])
The most misused natural resource is animal emotion
Animal jelousy, animal love, animal happiness, animal libido,
Animal compassion, animal grief, animal ogle, animal ***
Animal ego, animal fear or stampede, but animal anger utmost
It is a resource of value and virtue if used in prudence
Least vicious off all lest ghoulish natural disposition
Whose exemplification follows below in juxtaposition;
Out of anger a human animal kills
Revenges in full feat of anger
Causing accidents and damages
In employment of anger to uphold ego
A snake will not bite until ignited to anger
But in its calm state it’s an agent of ecological peace
Lioness is herbivorous in their truce but irascibly carnivorous
Buffaloes only crash if catapulted by anger
But romantically crazy in the emotional bliss
Man is fountain of peaceful jealousy
Man is cradle of venerative bigotry
Man is a well of murderous love
Humanity engendered is matchless ocean
Of cantankerous infatuation crushing for doable
And non-doables, deservation of pity,
All these natural ornamentations
That echo vicious virtues of man
Are protégés of perfected anger.
Dec 16, 2013
Dec 16, 2013 at 8:38 AM UTC
Growing up is hard to do that's why when I was 12 years old I said I would never do it because it is full of heartache and hatred, trouble and lies, what is the point of leading such an unfulfilled life? Now at only 17, I am being catapulted into a world full of life long choices, where one wrong move- one stupid mistake- can ruin my existence. Yet I have so much resistance because I cling to this notion that i will never grow old. Responsibility is for grownups I would shout then...and even now... but the difference is, today I am going to take 5 standardized tests in 2 weeks and visiting a big brick building that will feed my mind and prepare me for "life"... as if I am not already alive. What is "the real world"? Is it not what I have been going through since birth? Why does reality only hit when you're 18 and starving for attention? Silly me, I was under the impression that I am a human being, going through experiences and learning lessons that will fill my soul. but that’s not true after all; I will only be useful when I have a successful career and child at my hip. **** these rules of society. I am a human, a person, an adult. But not because I chose to be one, I was forced into this role that has deteriorated my mind and thrown me into raging fits of anxiety and depression. Yes, high school has been the greatest years of my life... if by "great" you mean emotionally damaging.
Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 2:51 PM UTC
All-new
****** lands
(except for the natives)
dying to be properly deflowered and nailed and ******* and erroded
to make way for gun forts and gold mines
(they can be built!)
they're called Zale's and they love money
funny, not to all but to enough
call them crazy call them savage
but maybe they just love their homes
and don't own the kinds of weapons that make the loudest noise
but that **** the slowest and with least dignity.
Color-me a Cosmo girl
fit to be cover material, just look at my hair
look at Pocahontas, you know she was bald?
Hideous, un-English in every way
probably because she wasn't
but gotta give credite where credit is rejected, overdrawn
maybe never even earned just splurged and secreted
but wanna hear a secret?
The land belongs to nobody
not a soul not a body not a mind
they knew this but knew others were destroying it
that's why they were mad,
not because they were children who had their toys stolen
but because a living lifeless matter was being assaulted
catapulted into the future of steam engines and fried chicken
feathers blowing in the winds of convertables
they took scalps to maybe open the minds to the error of ways
not that one's head should be disassembled
but one can't seem so oblivious or wide eyed when shown the facts
of obvious emotional response
but we are young
dinosaurs were old and we have time to forget.
May 30, 2012
May 30, 2012 at 5:39 PM UTC
Melting pots are for racists.
The USA is a salad bowl.
The student lounge features
the veggies at their ripest,
collecting oxygen amongst themselves,
for the corn cannot exist
with the broccoli,
and so on
and so forth.
Don't even mention
fruits
to the potatoes.
And the tomatoes,
they're just weird, man,
don't even know
what they are.
We are all at our most
savory and nutritious,
our youthful wisdom
emanating through our
concrete set of hues.
The chili peppers emanate a color
as red as the blood
of their ancestral martyrdom,
no other color,
just red.
Same for the cucumbers
with hearts so coolly refrigerated,
taking forest green,
taking pastel green
with just a few drops
of ivory-scented beige
tucked neatly behind
walls of bamboo-level peels.
The voices of the onions
thud onto the floor
as if being catapulted
from cumulonimbus peaks,
causing the Iceberg lettuce
to almost drown in its own
dressing.
Lady Liberty,
a series of
produce section fragments
sitting much too sternly
with no regard for sprawling.
In the same bowl, though!
Apr 29, 2010
Apr 29, 2010 at 10:52 AM UTC
Water of remembrance sprinkled
On the mountain crest of recollection.
Indulgent mussy memory catapulted
Stones of retentiveness into the
Courtyard of events like bricole
Of battles.
Pendulum of reminiscences swinging
On oscillating milage of roads like
Trotting horse with drippage of sweat
And itching foots.
Ghost of reminiscences restlessly
Roaming with carriage of yesteryear.
Final year educatees required
Boardinghouse,
But list of items engorged dear
Mother's treasury
"where do l raise money
to buy oyinbo mattress, Ilori?"
Mind pullulated with weariness.
Intonation of worries.
Cantillation of wants.
Deficiency of measured means.
Oyinbo mattress beyond ladder
Of reach.
Gluttonously waiting to devour
Lesser items,
But rays of compulsion unslammed
The gate of respite.
Lordly arrival warmly welcomed by
The dorm room's porter,
Walking majestically to the bed-space
With the acquired cotton wool and raffia leaves mattress.
Gamut of items passed through the eagle's eyes of the housemaster.
Silver painted pail donated by a neighbour passed through the sentry of inspection,
And got its admission.
Mother's used cloak turned bedsheets
Passed through the rigorous scrutiny.
Newly built portmanteau unlocked and neatly dissected, item by item.
Agazed eyes focused on the cotton wool and raffia leaves hand-made mattress.
Expectations rattled mumbling astonishment.
Legs stuck in the mud of mystification.
Telepathic dews covered ocean of thought.
Tranquil silence engulfed vicinity,
Deflating the balloon of hope like a litigant awaiting verdict from the jurist's chambers.
Porter's gesticulating gesture connoted nothingness of demeaning disapproval, perambulating on the hilly terrain of approval.
Akimbo stood l.
Now the verdict!
Molten volcanic magisterial command erupted in a gestapo gesture,
Spudding out from the barytone's baritone voice from the selfsame housemaster,
From the bastion of authority,
And the house generalissimo like a wild brant squalled, matter-of-factly,
"we do not accept bed bugs cotton wool and raffia leaves hand-made mattress here".
Entreaties collapsed.
Jan 11, 2019
Jan 11, 2019 at 1:30 AM UTC
Opening my heart,
opening my mind;
I inhaled
without regret
and watched
the world
unwind.
Comfortable
in my
non-proverbial
sling-shot,
I was catapulted
from this Earth,
out of my body
and into
Hyperspace:
a sight
of radiant
splendor.
Streams
of bright,
neon color
soaked through
my vision,
illuminating
the blanketed
brilliance
of
the experience.
This eternal
round-about
spun
in wide circles
around my being,
rapidly
gaining speed,
taking flight.
Time
broke apart;
it's pieces:
fractured,
severed
and split
into
the expanse
that lay
all around me.
The walls
glistened;
scintillating
with fervent
sparkle,
a shimmering
twinkle
of prismatic
grandeur.
Breathing deep,
I felt my spirit
begin to return.
With limbs
outstretched
I grasped for
the reality
I had
just barley
touched
with
****** fingertips.
Eyes opening
back to the
shadowbox
of this
existence,
a singular
tear
escaped.
Reappearing,
I wept.
Jun 8, 2014
Jun 8, 2014 at 2:28 PM UTC
there's a part of me that keeps
checking in to see how
your life is going. I can't shield
my curiosity from the pain
when I see that you have replaced
me in each pose
every sunset
and a single smile that
was not catapulted at me.
Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 1:17 AM UTC
Ears I don't need to hear the music you are.
I don't have to sing along to be one with thy song
You are the tune, my words fit in, meaning falls in place,
The voice rises and falls,the journey of my music thus begins.
You are the river of nectar, that never ceases to nourish my shores.
That doesn't need any space or time to flow through; it never ends.
A drop of it's ebullience, I am catapulted from the flow of your wave.
I roam, searching for you, to return and immerse in your fathomlessness.
Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 7:20 AM UTC
I roll through these scenes
with impulsive magnificence.
Sometimes its rolling,
sometimes I flip.
Sometimes I find myself
extenuating the struggle
horseback
through catapulted
decades of
fur-
trapped
ozark
witchcraft
dirt
Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 11:16 AM UTC
I overthink
All I have is my thoughts
Somehow connect all the wrong dots
I desperately desire to get it right
All I ever get is high as a kite
Lost motivation like a missing pet
Dreams haunted by a blurry silhouette
These ******* insecurities incessantly holding me back
Mind catapulted so hard it's finally starting to crack
It's lonely walking this nowhere road
Hieroglyphics in soul I can't seem to decode
Multiple eruptions happen within heart's beating rooms
Life is a tapestry of pain woven on fate's looms
The reflection staring from mirror is looking rather strange
I know that to reach peace something badly needs to change
Sep 17, 2025
Sep 17, 2025 at 5:02 AM UTC
So often are women branded
with a scarlet letter
the moment they learn
the definition of the word ‘choice’.
So often is dissent catapulted out of crooked teeth
and whose twisted tongues belong
nowhere close to the temple
that is our bodies
in which we are the god.
The valley of our chest,
ripe with liberty;
a womb like an unmapped terrain
you cannot navigate through
for one cannot simply trudge
a course he knows nothing about.
Our vulnerability is not a curse,
it is our compass;
and your preference versus our worth
makes your jaw grow soft
like how you prefer our nails untainted with red
or our hair longer than short
or our feet glued to the marbled tiles
of the kitchen floor
or laws forged to protect anything
but us —
it looks a lot like silence.
You do not get to weep
for what i choose to lose
in order to not lose myself.
You do not get to dress
your iron fist
with empathy
that is only ever in its loudest,
when it is the emptiest.
May 19, 2019
May 19, 2019 at 9:02 AM UTC
Catapulted...
Over the moon.
Counted stars
as I hurtled through time and space.
I had tasted the sweetness.
The spellbinding grasp of weightlessness
as I crested upon the peak of my ascent.
Felt free and overwhelmed that moment
where the universe and I collided...
And birthed the second.
I only had that second.
*The second that spanned an eternity.
The second filled with abundant promise.
The second that unclenched my fist,
melted my heart,
and liberated my mind.*
But gravity takes control
and that second dissolves as
quickly as it came.
Reality beckons almost gentle...
Like swaying palms in the night sea breeze.
Assuring me that I'll be back in my rightful place.
In this time...
And this space...
Oct 10, 2016
Oct 10, 2016 at 11:19 AM UTC
Hmmm, let's see
I cradled the sun like a sick razor-blade
I found a warehouse of abandoned unborn hearts
I abruptly stopped a dead man to talk
I bottled up new souls for a long desert drive
I snuffed out every star with cathodic eyes
I fondled the carcass of eternal trouble
I found the hungry embalmed mouth of the first paid woman
I dug a hole; I tied rope; I burned cars; I cried dope
I shied away; I broke sway; I uttered “May-Day”
I danced! I sweated; I pigged out
I catapulted myself on fire
All this:
to see the harrowing sepulchered moons of tomorrow
like a strange weightless liquid
where I will appear and reappear
to the eventual astonishment of billions of years of shadowing sentience
Another universe gawks
Jun 30, 2012
Jun 30, 2012 at 4:47 PM UTC
I could not believe my luck
To finally find a friend.
We could have taken on the world together,
I never wanted it to end.
Something had to come along and change it.
I know where we went wrong.
We both wanted to be in the same band,
But we both wrote differents songs.
We broke apart like clashing comets
Falling from out of the sky.
I guess inside I always knew
That I could never be your guy.
It wasn't that I lacked self-confidence.
It was not even that I felt shame.
We understood what the other meant.
But, the thing we wanted was the same.
I would have bet my heart on you.
But I could never live a lie.
For a while there, life was a party,
How the time flew by!
You drifted back into my world,
I was drifting far from mind.
About the time I was fragmenting,
Saturn was about to unwind.
Like a stone, I catapulted into the world.
I ricocheted liked a silver ball.
I was making up for lost time.
I would rise, then I would fall.
The colors melded hotly
As I did crash and burn.
The cynicism came with ease,
With every lesson I did learn.
I settled into my routine.
I cooled as I slowed down.
I looked you up to say hello,
And I miss having you around.
I cannot believe my luck.
That you still are my friend.
Sing your songs and tell me stories,
Like you did way back when.
May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 10:55 PM UTC
The glimpse of shadow in light of dark
He burned her heart of paperwork
Spilled gasoline of demise to soak her
She swallowed the fire of his pride
Erased from surface of existence
He catapulted her to demonic inferno
A monster cloaked in red and smoke
Worshipped the goddess of golden hate
Sep 26, 2016
Sep 26, 2016 at 7:54 AM UTC
"Someday death will take us to another star."
~~Vincent Van Gogh
Painter paint star-spattered-pathways--purple passion patterns;
Grant me glimpses of immortality in indigo inspirations,
Guide me through galaxies glued inside translucent eyelids
With pulsating ivory globes.
Ascending into your astral aspirations,
Fractured atoms crumble into cerulean strings--
Unimpeded by crawling speed of light,
Suspended, momentarily held by moon's golden blood.
Hurtling throughout cobalt cosmic chaos,
Catapulted into vermillion vortex,
Realms rescinding into realms,
Macrocosms into macrocosms--malleable meldings.
Absorbing ancient ancestral dust,
Ten times ten thousand particles emblazened;
Universal union--super-nova soul's rebirth.....
Adrift within a Van Gogh sky.
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 10:44 AM UTC
I sometimes look back at 6th grade classroom settings
and i wonder about the times
i would raise my hand low enough
to be seen,
but high enough to be acknowledged
that i tried.
I reminisce about the times
when the words could’ve easily
catapulted out of my mouth
but there had always been bright orange road cones
placed on my tongue
with a permit;
my signature on them forged by
the things in my head that cause me to tremble
when i ask for directions without practice,
if i raise my hand without practice,
walk around without practice,
do some-fucking-thing on my own without practice,
practice, practice, p-pr-practice, don’t stutter,
practice, perfect.
I sometimes fold my paper in half
because i know what its like
to take up too much space.
Turbulence always equals
plane crash.
Chances, to me, were always either just one, or only ever finite.
But he’s got that infectious laugh,
and he held my hand
the whole cab ride back home
until they stopped shaking.
When he wraps his arms around me,
I begin to understand that vacant parking lots
never stay empty for long and sometimes ringing car alarms
are better than the silence I pretend to love.
And I didn’t get it.
I didn’t get how people could be so courageous.
Anxiety has a weird way of
making the process of falling the scariest
thing of all instead of the actual landing.
But those brown eyes had reminded me that
love lullabies our troubles to sleep.
Love turns the quiet into a symphony
of voices of all the people
whose heart you keep in your palms.
Love turns the trembling into a warm embrace.
Love never had to be a home.
it was a resting place
even for the restless.
Jun 14, 2018
Jun 14, 2018 at 1:48 AM UTC
each
downward ******
of the
mighty eagle's wings
catapulted upward bound
slingshot forward
without
a sound
uplifted
towards
these
higher ground
above
the clouds
an eagle's view of the world
i sing out loud
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 4:36 PM UTC
Well now I am aware
Of the newest anarchy towards your reasonings
An enterprise of not feeling anything
This practise of not making a sound.
Even the hollowest, little laugh, catapulted up
Through the roof of your mouth, and reflecting
Off the top of your tongue, can still be too much.
In earnest, even if it's an eighth of a sound, its apex
Is too much to drown out, I hear it everywhere that
It throws me towards. Holds me by the throat and it
Knows me now like it wants me to find out but then
Hides itself, like the chime of a bell, ringing off the hem
Of the dress you wore on October 30th of 2012, it is a
Sound that'd I'd never be able mute out, that comes
To me unexpectedly, and it takes the rest of me to keep cool.
Now the inches grow, and the moon men climb inside of
My mouth. I want to yell. Scream! But I can't even shout.
The words inside of my hands write, but the ink has dried out.
I wasn't sure but now I'm sure that the time has come and
That time on the clock is now. Call up the whales, undress for
The moon, I'm making Rice Krispies because the penguin girl
Is coming home soon.
Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 7:52 PM UTC