"coagulating" poems
.
*Links in the chemist chain
laced in a double helix
defy the laws of the universe,
and the atavistic resurgence
creates isotopes of dream passion.
Elements conspire in panic
with a symmetry of casual chaos
that mimics an atomic bomb,
destroying its own creator
in a cruel parody of birth paradox.
Arresting the Iris of Dissolution
with cuffed anxiety drowning
in a pond of helium ore,
carelessly drifting on acid flesh,
coagulating in a soup of memory.*
And the paradigm shifts again,
reality unfocussed clears, strains,
revealing your shuddering form,
next to me, keeping me warm.
Lids flicker and you open your eyes,
shining, smiling in cute surprise.
Moving my finger up to my lips
whilst I gently untangle our hips.
*Do you remember this night?
Last night, tonight, tomorrow night?
Time begins to slowly rewind,
on the night you blew my mind.*
My essence is filled with your heart,
a love I have yet to discover.
Whilst you wander between the stars,
my universe starts to recover.
So please don't break this silence now.
Please don't shatter this moment long,
I want this post ****** memory to remain
in the morning when you have gone.
© Pagan Paul (04/11/17)
Nov 5, 2017
Nov 5, 2017 at 7:59 AM UTC
*Ukitin ang namumuong salita ng iyong pag-ibig
Wari'y ipikit ang iyong mga mata
Kung tadhana'y nakalaan,
Sa tamang oras at panahon.
Pagkat ang buwan at ang araw;
Ay namumukod tangi sa ulap
At hangga't maaaring tanaw ay abutin.
Silipin sa aking palad;
ang kapalarang mapaglaro.
Sa ihip ng hanging amihan
Ito'y dumaan man hanggang tanaw mo'y maabot sa kalagitnaan ng daigdig.
Yung tipong aanurin ka na ng karagatan.
Kahit umulan man o umaraw
Yung tipong paghihiwalayin kayo ng landas.
Pero sa kabila ng lahat,
ito'y babalik sa tamang panahon.*
(English Translation)
Court The Heart
***Carve the coagulating words of your love.
As eyes closed,
Whether, destiny reserve the heart,
that fall in love at the right time.
Whereas the moon and the sun;
the only exceptional top of the skies &
As long as I could reach the scenery.
Glanced at my palm hands;
That playful act of fate.
As the breeze of the cooling air
Whisper the touching soul of yours,
Reaching as much as it could.
Between the World we knew it'll still hold you back from time to time.
&
Even if the ocean will drown us apart
Even if the sun shines nor we soak at the rain
&
Even if the path would break us apart,
Still we could turn back at the right time.***
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 7:28 AM UTC
you made my blood clot,
so slowly and gently,
coagulating beneath your faint touch.
on flaxen sheets of rough cotton
I watched your plants
rolling their limbs out your open window.
they sprawled themselves, unravelling,
yearning for the gentle kiss
of the suns rays.
an almost ****** photosynthesis.
and for you I would sprawl myself out too,
and with the same eagerness
absorb every scent of yours into my flesh,
and drink desperately from your soul
like a cacti in its first summer shower
since '89.
and your final gasp,
with me, but a sponge
for your every metaphoric suppuration,
and literal secretion.
and you were transfixed there,
spurting auras of sin and love.
a final burst of ecstasy,
you soon became my anticoagulant.
you seeped into my bloodstream,
reversing this gentle coagulation.
Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 7:02 AM UTC
Those sleepless summer nights
Sweat pouring from every crack
In thinly layered sunburnt skins
It was all panties-on-the-floor
Blood-on-the-sheets
And *******
Living out highschool fantasies
Like the cool kids
Life before 22 was all a dream
Of midsummer swelter and
Salt water
In the mind of the dog
Chained up in the universe's yard
Tethered to the ether world
Racing rabbits through space
While I was turned into an ***
Staring at the mirror
And my expressionless face
*This must be how cancer feels
Growing increasingly smaller
In a world where cabinets
And aspirations grow increasingly taller
She met the devil
For coffee on diagnosis day
But the deal they made didn't take
Her hair fell out
And her body atrophied anyway
She found herself
Floating far far away
Her blood coagulating like
A broken thermometer
Of mercury*
Salvador Dali painted this fall
The house of salvatore
Minds gone to roost under warm eaves
Staring fireplaces
Hungry couches and singing windows
It's all ******* drooping like clocks
And derailing thoughts
The local biddies
Cluck their tongues
At the absurdity of infinity
And the girl in Ace Hardware
Buying shoepolish to hide her tan lines
Yawns, as her boyfriend feels her up
*Meanwhile I collapse
Like a house of cards with a flick of the wrist
Thinking about life's mathematical beauty*
Sep 10, 2013
Sep 10, 2013 at 6:11 PM UTC
Sparks ignite wick nerves
Burning throughout
Melting wax flesh
Pooling snugly
Melding
warmth departing
coagulating and cold
disconnect impossible
shape of an accident
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 6:29 AM UTC
Wailing walls, howling fences
Encaged and blocked by barriers
All smashed, sorted in security fence
Miles of humanity and flesh torn apart
Why is it that we can’t live together?
We bleed the same coagulating blood
Lined up and humiliated in alleyways
Paths of iron bars and imprisonment
My veins wringed, intensive torment
Mentally distracted, strained by grief
Settlement, conflicts and border struggles
Governance, religious trickles of disunion
The biblical birthright verses human rights
The unsighted straining peace settlement
Shadows of the peace blueprint screams
Ongoing reconciliation, milked in small doses
Whose home is whose? Subdivided in areas
Controls of disillusionment undisclosed
Unmanned checkpoints evokes fears
Revolving cameras tossed and turned
Bansky slogan “make hummus not war”
Smashes freedom to uproot and merge
Constitute and construct peaceful resorts
All horns blowing to collapse duality
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 2:08 PM UTC
She is the goddess,
all-receptive and coagulating
eternally to shift with
our rhythms, our wants,
our needs.
She is as old
as all the dark rivers
that coalesce into the
perfection of the sea.
She is the lady
who opens herself
and ushers us onto
our golden throne,
and urges us to drink
from her ******
chalice.
She was alive in the Way,
and in the Water,
and in the Moon,
and in the Blood
of the Ages that flows
still in the veins of a
hidden world.
She is the perfect wife,
the wise crone,
the impetuous harlot,
ill of temper and all-forgiving.
Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 9:31 PM UTC
A breath of whispers
Cast me to your depths
Rolling in that thunder gulch
Midnight, why respire?
Wake me with a splash
Dawn and passive cry for mulch
This excessive erosion
Secret me your protections
Trip wire designating unintended fault
A dark of dream scare
Toss me in your undulations
Sapphire coagulating in that salt
Sep 22, 2010
Sep 22, 2010 at 8:07 AM UTC
Her memories are riddled with holes
from maggots gnawing away
at her already decomposing mind.
Rotting away inside her skull
like teeth soaking in sugar water
and Methamphetamine.
She has a basement filled with flutes
overflowing with year old concoctions
made of emotions and the echoes
of the harpy she once was.
They drip down the sides and pool,
coagulating on the floor like puddles
of dried blood.
Tattered and torn négligées and teddies
are strewn about the bedroom, stained
from the days of lulling men to their deaths,
like a siren on the rocks,
and writing the contract of her own demise
by drowning herself with them.
The lipstick is off.
The eyes of Medusa are closed.
There is no web left to spin.
And as her heart passes back into the abyss
it takes what pieces are left of of it,
an eddy of tiny mirror shards
reflecting the faces of those who once
shown into it and have now faded,
remnants, of its once glorious mosaic.
Dec 26, 2013
Dec 26, 2013 at 4:02 PM UTC
All these roads lead somewhere
Our dismembered beings will never see it all until we're dead
But we can die and make it back alright
And if we died, would we even want to come back inside?
There's something real out there and it'll always be there and all it takes is to pay perfect attention
Chance favors the prepared mind as we can see for ourselves
When we traverse this abyss
Learn to pay attention
Learn to dance with the patterns you perceive
The sonic tapestry is a music piece
It never stops , and it covers everything
Everywhere is always everywhere else
Music never stops
Listen to it beat you away
Is there a difference between me and the music?
I am you, after all, this poem is me
And yet it is you because I'm not the only one
And we'll never be apart until we die, but even then we'll be together, each as nothing
So beautiful, so absurd
Feel that breeze blowing your hair?
You are its breath
It escapes your lungs and you ride around a vibrating
Symbol, your thoughts swimming and crystallizing but never blinding
Swirling around you in coagulating meaning
The grass grows, it is your beard
Lying there in the field
Can you feel it any different?
The grass brought you here to lie down on it
The grass inhales you as you light it,
And fully grokked, your ghost breathes itself out in rings
Snap the rhythm and it ripples with the cymbal
Into love,
The path through remains you, it's full of stars and eternal youth
The gray dawn on the beach is a constant truth
Our dreamtime dreams of being awake
I woke up and thought I could fly
How wrong I was
Spying over the shoulder of God
I told him, "You're a character in my story
I am you,
I am more.
What can you do to me?"
And God looks back, knowing that what I say is true
For I perceive him and even as he marvels me with illusions he can never erase my mind
I don't even capitalize his pronouns
God and his carpenters joined the dancing eternal parade
Like the end of an Animal House knockoff
Where we send off parts of ourselves to new times and places we've never conceived of
Populating the universe
Which gets bigger the more detail we observe
An optical contradiction
For you are the greater resonance of both your
Self and your Opposite
Feb 6, 2013
Feb 6, 2013 at 11:31 PM UTC
You’ll let me in.
With thorns growing from my head and fire in my eyes,
You’ll let me in.
Charm will roll off the forked tips of my tongue,
And you’ll listen, for it’s the same shape as yours.
I will outstretch my arm to you, but you won’t be afraid.
You’ll see the familiar trail of paired puncture wounds,
Marching up my flesh towards a space where a heart might have been.
As I draw nearer, your coin-slotted eyes will sparkle with delight.
“It’s as if he’s some great fly, knocking and knocking against the glass around a flame.”
The flame I was made in.
I’ll delicately wrap my crooked hand about your body,
All neck.
As I lift you from your jar, my fingers will dance along the silk of your skin.
They dance to streets of Cairo.
While I hum, a clean, shimmering blade will materialize in my grasp.
My song, leaving you helpless as I press the flat silver of the blade against the roof of your mouth.
Your eyes take only pennies now.
Your moment will arrive, as the song crashes to a halt.
Out come your fangs; they come off just as easily.
A pool of venom will spew across the floor, spilling your only hopes of hurting me.
I’ll dip my knife in the coagulating puddle
Then clean it in the pressed curls of my lips.
There is more poison in my veins than blood, you could not hurt me again.
I’ll set a hook through the top and bottom of your mouth.
The barb holding it shut.
I’ll cast you into a pit of fire, just long enough to sear all your skin.
I’ll reel you back in.
While your scorched body lay, sizzling, I’ll poor whiskey down your spineless back
Just to delight in the symphony of muffled vengeance echoing off the walls.
I’ll conduct its decrescendo with a cleaver for my baton.
One final thud will end the song.
You’ll pry open charred coward’s eyes – that only ask now for death – to see my ****** stump.
I’ll leave you there to read it: written in braille, scars from your dropped pen.
“You let me in.”
You let me in.
Apr 22, 2013
Apr 22, 2013 at 2:06 PM UTC
My nose, it just bled numbers--
Bled for years on years unnumbered
'Til I lost my youthful hunger
For anything but numbers
And coagulating blood
But with figures cold and clotting
And with innards now unknotting
I clear the corridors of blotting
And begin to finally breathe
Know pens belong on pages
In your pockets, in your hands
Not in lives, or heads or veins
Most certainly not in plans.
Oct 26, 2012
Oct 26, 2012 at 7:08 PM UTC
Remember that feeling,
When you pick at a scab.
The fleshy white skin that forms,
over the red underneath.
A thin layer that protects
From elements,
as you heal.
But I'm,
Left staring,
Mouth-wide open, at the blood,
Coagulating silence.
I wonder,
This time,
Why did you come back?
To pick at my just healed wounds?
I'm sorry,
All that's left is ash.
The charcoal still burning,
Red-orange flames.
Dying down,
Burning out.
This ash,
It covers me,
From head to toe.
Nov 22, 2017
Nov 22, 2017 at 3:20 AM UTC
Step with me, my friend
Behind the beating fast fall of water unending.
Here we are now,
Two souls in the echoing space
Between solid rock and falling curtain of water.
Hush now...
Do you feel the pulse
Of the Earth's flowing veins,
Coagulating with your own?
Listen....
Do you hear the murmur
Of forgotten voices
Kept in memory of stone walls
Surrounding us here?
They sing to you,
To me,
To whomever has the ears to listen,
Of moss and wheat meadows
The green blades dripping blood,
Spicy and cruel crimson in the sun.
Songs of deep sorrows unmendable,
Leaving the beating heart
Cold and transparent.
Songs of love,
Love felt to consume the mind,
Uniting lovers
A million in number,
Sharing passions unspoke of.
Listen.....
Here we are now,
Two souls in the echoing space
Between solid rock and falling curtain of water,
Listen......
Jun 26, 2012
Jun 26, 2012 at 7:11 PM UTC
The dress clung to me
As I stood
Lost
Staring, staring back at the stranger
The mirror offered a glimpse
Of me,
The messed up stranger smiled
With heartbreak resting on each drugged eyelid
Pain
Coagulating in each vein
Every vein.
The stranger tore her dress
My arm became cold, so cold.
My heart became frozen,
Broken,
This time beyond repair.
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 11:53 AM UTC
thoughts dripping -plink, plink-
coagulating into a suffiently-sized puddle
some
transparent and luminescent as diamonds
refracting light into white-hot shards
piercing and radiant
others
black ink dank and dark
as unappealing as a rusty pillow
caustic like hydrochloric acid
the tinctures wrestle and combine
motor oil in water, rainbow patterns at night
suddenly a painful thump,
as I've hit my forehead on my dusty keyboard again.
with this, a parting word -
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sTJ7AzBIJoI
Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 3:54 AM UTC
I've got the shakes again, and
we've lost the arts.
Caramel coffee is for trolls,
calamities are uninvested conversations.
Your selective ignorance
are their political polls;
cocoa conundrums; coagulating
serotonin serums inhibiting innovations.
I've got the shakes again, and
we've lost the love;
you turtle dove.
Historical happy hours,
rhetorical- the ring on her finger
indigo indiscretions linger
bloom a bouquet of flowers.
I've got the shakes again, and
we've lost the respect.
Ignore Tesla, the moon;
******* by his diamonds,
instant gratifications- new world addictions.
Hats off at my table!
Shake hands, shake social frictions.
I pump my brakes again, and
I've lost invitations;
my blinded observations.
Soulless shoes sully love,
subtle self proclamations.
Societies vicarious vices,
subliminal author's themes;
my presumption suffices.
Johnny's mother screams!
I've got the shakes again, and
I've lost my mind again;
dubious is an art of repetition.
In this war of attrition,
monkey business is the real oppression;
***** color schemes
deter my nightlife's daydreams.
Premeditations- self induced depression.
First amend, then reprieve
a society in genocide,
murderous screaming thieves.
I've got the shakes again, and
he's lost his midnight train of thought;
his ****** obsessions.
Espresso and ****** expressions,
prerogatives- propaganda bought;
the bad vibrations.
Battling a vertigo,
temptation i fought.
Dancing amongst the constellations;
these must be his
coffee drunken genius inspirations.
Mar 14, 2018
Mar 14, 2018 at 8:03 PM UTC
SHADOWS.
Sunset shadows creep across the wall,
Memories flit through the mind
Coagulating into an unlit pool
Where dissembling thoughts unwind.
Then all is utter darkness,
Opaque, a descent into barely contained distress.
Thoughts lay dormant
An incantation in a poisoned sacrament
Waiting for the moon to wane, sun to rise,
Excoriated by refreshed light
Burning into the mind’s dull eyes
Destroying the mind’s dull sight.
The sun exposes every cranny
Evolution of moss and vine,
Lucidity shuffled aside to free
What lies behind the surface shine.
Once exposed, what can we know?
We cannot illumine the mind’s cavernous flow.
An untended wall will last fifty years
And then break apart and fall.
Destroyed by fears
That over time weaken and spoil.
Within each of us there is a roughly built division
Turning our forms into dust, blown into the sky, by demons driven.
Sep 3, 2016
Sep 3, 2016 at 7:15 PM UTC
I'm digging a knife
into my prosthetic limbs,
imploring my body for a reaction.
--like a prayer;
calling out for an
answer though one
is never expected--
There are these gashes
down my shin, in my mind
I see angry cuts that bleed
out, pouring sweet hemoglobin
onto the tile floor below, coagulating
into a beautiful scar.
It is only a vision; fantasy of the mind.
A quick look downward reveals
only chiseled tendrils of plastic.
Yet I'm still digging.
Knife after knife.
Limb after limb.
--first the left arm,
then the other,
both the legs, soon
up towards the torso--
The knives get larger
now they are serrated,
and sharpened to the death,
begging for a wince of pain,
a drop of blood
to quench that thirst.
Each **** holds new hope;
a magnificent anxiety.
Each knife holds a gleam
of excitement deep in the steel
that draws cursive across
my corpse.
Still, no spillage ensues,
naught a flinch from my tense
anticipating nerves.
But you, my new knife,
are quite exquisite.
Could I, perchance,
entreat you to gut me?
To slit me open?
Dig out my corpse, knife,
find me something worth hurting for.
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 2:01 AM UTC
Mirrors stand on trial.
As my reflection has become treason.
Iris' clawing itself out of their sockets.
Screaming for blindness.
This cannot be who I am up close.
This isn't who I am on the inside
As touch becomes apocalypse.
Finger tips shaving and ripping
romantic runs down a spine
into an escape from hell.
The monster, applauding my imagination.
All fears confirmed by reflection.
The monster is me, stalking to taking stage.
Every pulsing orifice oozing out reality,
bites and endures flesh.
Pieces of everyone I try to get close to
becomes food.
Leaving the gluttons pink-red and full.
No dimension displayed without cauterized scars.
Deformation of the mind and DNA
Playing jazz backwards as the big band
Scolds its tune from the inside
I can hear the power tools of natures orchestra.
Brackish change, Chimera's blushing to proposal.
This is my favorite song
And it ends with anxiety of a new face.
The mirror telling it all.
Clumps of hair,
Eyes in hands.
Festering humanity in fetal position begging for death
after birth.
Blowfly meals for two lovers, eaten alone.
God's hands in face peeking through her fingers.
Blood dripping from immortalities ugly head.
Tremors of night and knocks on the door.
Coagulating depression finally answers.
Come in.
This is what I am on the inside, up close.
Make a plate for your eyes.
Anxiety is on the menu.
Nov 19, 2017
Nov 19, 2017 at 12:13 PM UTC
UNANSWERED
How strange it was to see her there
After so much suffering. Her dying marriage
A bleeding and untreated smear,
Disguising a love neither would salvage.
The music played, the guests danced
With savage partners whose love retreated and advanced.
His awkward lover lingers quietly in the room
By turn shade, shadow, and silhouette,
She sways slowly to each repeated tune
Too triumphantly passionate to experience regret.
Mistress and wife exchange no glance, assuming ignorance
Of each other’s uncomfortable presence.
The loss of another’s love can wound
More brutally than the lover’s death
The secession of an intimate bond
Becomes a winding, coagulating mess.
When lovers connect they forget
What broke when they met.
A slow guitar riff makes her weep.
She takes my hand. She calls me friend.
I smile, with thoughts of my own to keep,
My own unanswered love to tend.
I kindly wipe away her tears,
But not my own. Those I’ve kept for years.
Beautiful songs, erratically played,
He glances towards her, smiles and leaves,
She turns away, both destroyed and dismayed,
Stands silently in the septic light and grieves.
I take her hand, but she pulls quickly away
I offer her a drink. She declines and will not stay.
I buy another whisky at the bar, tossing it down.
In a cruelly dissipating cloud, her fresh perfume lingers
Mimicking her constant image. My phone rings and I frown.
My forgiving wife is calling. With guilt and regret, my fingers
Tighten around the glass. I say: “Honey, I’ll be home soon.”
And, like others, leave the signifying gloom.
Touched by the sharp morning light
Half-empty glasses, abandoned halls,
Breaking out from the hasty coition of the night
Love radiates, caresses, falls.
When ubiquitous lovers combine it highlights briefly
How lonely it leaves those who grasp at love weakly.
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 3:42 PM UTC
falling is the color
of a naked heart, dipped
in cobalt dreams & violet
yearnings; bruises blooming
in amber, coagulating red roses;
marrow fueled & exposed, as it rises
—golden-yellow like the waking sun
with olive desires & an indigo passion;
it is in the merging of pigments into bright
light, brutal and blinding, but full of delight.
Aug 2, 2020
Aug 2, 2020 at 3:36 AM UTC
In description and depiction
Your face has escaped my words
You defy my understanding when I thought myself well-learned
Like the meaning of life, or death in turn
You are the sensation when I step through specter of top stair
Simultaneously taking my breath away
While reminding me of the earth under my feet
For which I am grateful
You are the rainbow teasing me from the oil spill
Coagulating in the concrete streets
You came about by chance
Filled my mundane life with beauty
You are the simplest of science experiments
Famously reliable
Tested and proven so many times through the years
That I have come to accept you as fact
You are the trust between a mother and infant child
Love growing with each day and smile
A symbiotic synchronized rhythm
So strong that it is natural
You ask me sometimes if your lack of presence in poetry
Equates to a lack of presence in my thoughts and feelings
Quite the opposite; you come to me in my everyday life
Darling I let the beautiful speak for itself
Dec 21, 2010
Dec 21, 2010 at 7:30 AM UTC