"coolant" poems
I look at the curves of your body
And start crookedly plotting
If you think that's so naughty
Then give me the straight answer
To cure my curious cancer
I want you to be forward with me
Instead of slowly torturing me
With lines that aren't crossed
And a fair amount of frost
While I await your zero degree angle
To match the direction my tears dangle
In some ways
Those who are gay
Have reached the month of May
In terms of being able to see the light of day
But nothing guarantees fulfillment
Not all the laws Capitol Hill sent
Or enough money to pay rent
I'm still stuck in the basement
I chase after a singular simple chance
But then you see the parabola in my pants
And flee in a serpentine motion of avoidance
To fill my crystalline ocean of annoyance
Maybe I shouldn't be so particular
Or maybe our lives are perpendicular
Because you're a vulture
That stands on what it's eating
So I live inside a culture
Where **** falls from the ceiling
There is straight answer coolant
Dripping from your curved bullet
That travels to me in a straight line
In order to perpetrate a great crime
Of stealing my innocence
Making me act in defense
Until I realize I'm not the best
And solemnly settle for less
At night I am crisscrossed
By dreams of a hip toss
That came from my blind spot
When a straight line made knots
Mar 23, 2018
Mar 23, 2018 at 3:55 AM UTC
there's a fire blooming
lotus burning
deep-seated feather brush
between this flesh and that flesh
a thin line of ink drawn up my spine that
splatters and does not extinguish
coats the ribs with a sweet kind of coolant
fading to blue, red
dipping into my stomach to settle there and turn
circles, rolling straight up my neck into a
sigh
Oct 14, 2012
Oct 14, 2012 at 3:52 PM UTC
Winter swallowed the Sun
like a pill refusing to go down
My system needs the coolant
of putting distance between myself
and the global glow-ball
To avoid the catastrophic kind of melting
Nov 29, 2018
Nov 29, 2018 at 9:06 AM UTC
I have bad lungs,
they are scarred and inflamed
I cannot walk far
without needing my inhaler
puff puff
so I can do something
that so can everyone
I want to be able to run
I want to be able to walk around
and not feel like I'm going to pass out
breathing is underrated
people do not appreciate
until that is taken away
inhale
exhale
I cannot find the medium
I need a coolant upon my tubes
so that my breathing is smooth
no longer so scarred and inflamed
able to breathe again
Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 10:23 PM UTC
Gaudy necklace still
beneath my pajama shirt,
they talked about things
till three am but i still
woke up at nine and
ate trail mix on the couch,
thinking about how nothing ever
goes the way i want it
too and how badly i just wanted to
kiss someone when the space needle
erupted into a silver sparkle and
brought the new year.
Jan 1, 2014
Jan 1, 2014 at 4:01 PM UTC
My dear friend
your driving is superb
Its stamped in designs in your wonderful car.
But every time you put brake
my heart just jumps out
and pumps in back.
I know not when my breath
will cut off from my heart
when your car flies on
on each speed breaker
that comes across.
Your speed is superb like flying in air
only the traffic can put a break to your speed.
How you cut off the lanes
without hitting anyone
but other eyes shoot the fire in air.
And their lips smell the burnt words of anger.
The way you flip the gears
I see stars in broad daylight.
Your driving is superb
leaving me punctured!
I sit and pray whole time inside your car.
When I reached the destination
I exhaust myself from all the punctured thoughts
from all boiling thoughts,
From fumes, frets and relax my muscles so tensed.
I just feel the need of coolant to cool my heart
I just need to check the petrol that exhausted my thoughts.
I just need to check if there is any hole or break in my heart.
Your driving is superb
you left me starry eyed staring at sky.
Made me religious.
You drove me though heaven.
Now I learnt the difference between hell and heaven!
Were you steering on wheels
or stirred my heart?
Well don't ask me who is the driver
I will have to run my life without gear.
LOL!
Note. At first I choose the tile as Your Driving Is Superb. Then I felt
its just like promoting the faulty driving.
©ALL RIGHTS RESERVED BY GEETHA JAYAKUMAR 2014
© GEETHA JAYAKUMAR 2014
May 29, 2015
May 29, 2015 at 10:06 AM UTC
The breeze is forceful, but not stiff,
it is the tropical storm's long lasting,
Arthur's lingering kiss goodbye,
(like the ones taken and given at airports and train stations,
volatile, wild passionate)
the breeze is anything but stiff,
it flexes, gusts, whipping sleeves,
coffee coolant excellent
the waves are rollicking,
revealing their white underwear,
but wise sailors say no thanks,
the bay pure, no vessels surface contaminant this morning
the sun apologizes for its yesterday absence,
claiming the aquifer cried out very thirsty,
so it took July Fourth off,
but now the water table rising,
the sand colored soil dark, rich, wet,
the grass cleaner, greener,
but the lawn, branch littered,
the wounded of the weather wars
the sun, a bit embarrased by his absence,
waits patiently for that odd fellow
by that dock, in that chair solitary,
to do his best poetic explanation well enough,
so that all summer rainy days will be
past and future forgiven
and the odd fellow taps and tends
to the living crowd surrounding him once again,
recalling he once wrote of leaves frothy waving
like cappuccino foam, and was that not
years ago and how could that be?
though the atmosphere is modest agitated,
the poets heart now, leavened and levitated,
for rain must have its due day,
purposeful, somber, serious, endless repeating,
(some say cleansing, but not he)
laughing at himself,
outdoors he writes
differently,
lighter than air, crafting careful
a single sonnet of suntan lotion odors,
and natural songs of bass drums in ear thrum,
and one thought alone,
criss crosses repeatedly,
yes, that one,
"wish you were here"
and he goes inside to get fresh coffee,
greet the woman sweaty fresh from yoga.
she delayed, the ferry captains paying obeisance
to the self same breeze,
but the seagull observer,
stands in place of the odd fellow's guard and watch,
during his temporary absence,
bulkhead posted, cawing in his stead and on his stand,
in seagullese,
which the poet speaks oh so well,
mantra chanting the poets
and the breeze's refrain too,
wish you were here
Jul 5, 2014
Jul 5, 2014 at 10:39 AM UTC
'
there you are.
i see you leering at the flight of amber bees.
i see you chipping away
at the chicanery of
a valentine
in a world of more accidents
than your love's
purpose.
we are the first
us.
come with me,
and we
shall arrive!
we get
somewhere
just to be
god's
people
sipping on frost
and bad theories... when I'm weary
i have no chamber for your
blatant nod.
your overt turtles
eat your oysters
putting them
to bed.
are you not your best offer?
and here we go again.
let x equal x
and the pond **** of your pitched battles
be the death rattle
of no tongue.
absorb the coolant
in the inferno
and his name is simply
" where are you from? "
Sep 5, 2013
Sep 5, 2013 at 10:57 PM UTC
I must be overheating,
cause my air tubes are filled with steam.
My movement cogs are rattling,
awkwardly, clashing joints screech.
There is combustion in the oiled pits,
which catch fire all to quick,
and boils stomach grease
and releases gassy silage.
The gas seeps out the crevices
and pollutes the wholesome air.
Poison in and out,
hot smog--a warning sign.
I must be overheating,
as a mechanic rushes toward me.
He wets me with his coolant,
and cools me with his sweat.
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 8:31 AM UTC
Start for the dart of the mart
Quarts of coolant guzzled down
A meal A break a heart that is no longer beating
Now the clouds are opened
And I see there was nothing there at all
Mind matters in the eyes prying for a cry
The little girl inside this one is no longer there
She has gone away to another place
I am sick I am tired I am a broken record atop a spinning player
Each hour that passes through this still place makes it seem as if nothing is real
As if the haze in mine eyes is the fog on a morning knolls break
Faster then any bullet we will die
Quicker then any hummingbird love will dissipate into a memory only captured
In torn and worn photographs
Kept by people that need something to talk about at dinner
At Christmas
At Thanksgiving
At times when the truth is so close
We all must shut it away
To go on is to prolong the fat fact that we winners are winding down a rocky
Rembrandt like
Painting of puke and bile and smiles which do not bring either happiness
Or heartbreak
Who is this person inside this mind that will not let me be?
Who put this brain inside of me?
Who allowed for these trials of touch and go to commence?
And who will be at the finish line when I am too exhausted to go on?
I am neither here nor there nor awake or asleep
I wander from the middle to the coast only to start wandering again
To be elevated from above the Earth
To be floating along
Is to see the world in the haze of which I speak which is Heaven
Where bugle playing baby angels sip on lemon cloud swirl drinks
Where death no longer lays its heavy hand upon any head
For He is there as well
We are all welcome to the corner market where behind door number two
Is a running river lined with no ***** pebbles
But broken fragments of dragon's gold
To take to this place is to lose your face for to drift one must pay
Yes
One must always pay
To play
Aug 4, 2011
Aug 4, 2011 at 3:43 PM UTC
Sun-hit summer noon
On a sunlit Sunday
End of the day cooled
Thanks to full moon day
Moonlit night of sunlit moon
Coolant night at its height
Valentines volunteered to date
And seek dim light delight
Long drive drove,
For a week-end whisper,
At a tranquil cove.
All green scenes
Canopy, canvas n carpet
The duo is due for love
Chirping parrot pairs,
Nibbled and anchored.
Nature flagged off green
Moon-shine filtered thru leaves
The pair signed up, signed in
Browsed in melodious breeze
Aroused passions pure n sure
Lips sipped, slipped n clipped
The wetting vetted the deal
Her cheeks blushed in joy
Kiss keyed in love
Love locked life for life.
To the blush of wife- to- be
To be the bliss of life
Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 6:47 AM UTC
Push back the gag reflex for this capsule
Blue as pooling engine coolant
Reached for some water, made it faster
Or it will be stuck in my chest all day
How not to let delusion
Elude your feeling for his grasp
Keep you unglued in solitude
To watch your own collapse
Bereft of arms that hold you still
When scrambled minds go underdone
Your their's to pick apart
And some
Your timeline half erased will mill
Perfect as you've made it, you're never far apart
From a brick wall crack
From another attack
In a circle, pass the start.
Apr 7, 2013
Apr 7, 2013 at 10:07 PM UTC
Sun-hit summer noon
On a sunlit Sunday
End of the day cooled
Thanks to full moon day
Moonlit night of sunlit moon
Coolant night at its height
Valentines volunteered to date
And seek dim light delight
Long drive drove,
For a week-end whisper,
At a tranquil cove.
All green scenes
Canopy, canvas n carpet
The duo is due for love
Chirping parrot pairs,
Nibbled and anchored.
Nature flagged off green
Moon-shine filtered thru leaves
The pair signed up, signed in
Browsed in melodious breeze
Aroused passions pure n sure
Lips sipped, slipped n clipped
The wetting vetted the deal
Her cheeks blushed in joy
Kiss keyed in love
Love locked life for life.
To the blush of wife- to- be
To be the bliss of life
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 5:09 PM UTC
Bay and beach
Wind and waves
Sun and sand
Tools of play
And pools of pleasure
To herald rock and roll
Held me on one fine funny day
Whipping gripping sun
Running rolling waves
Breezing sprucing spray
Cuddling cradling swing
Seesaw Sea, a scene to see
An ebony boy for joy
Curled n’ squirreled
And scrubbed shiny sand
Made of wet velvet waves
Basked and bathed
Bathed and basked
And on and on and so on
Bath n’ bask filled his day
Cheerful crowd on a wild boating spree
Expert loner on his confident bouts
With batting waves for surfing thrill
All and sundry kindred, rid of color or creed
Joined n’ enjoyed nature’s extravaganza
Tots trotting helter-skelter
Splashing on slippery waves
Jubilant lads fad of hackney ride
Wayward youth awkward way forward
Trespassing bikini lasses passing by
Receding light inked in crimson red
Dipped glowing globe at the far end of sea
Paving way to the emerging coolant moon
To shower his delightful light for rest of night
Dec 24, 2014
Dec 24, 2014 at 5:58 PM UTC
12/15/2015
"You, doctor, go from breakfast
to madness."
Anne Sexton
The engine of my amygdala:
so burnt out
I needed coolant, I needed something to prevent my
immolation
a sort of precautionary measure
Rum's flammable
I'd soon find out
In a crowd of hundred dark and
smoke crawled through my shoulders
social little parasite
apologize for being an interruption to everyone
"Wish I could've been there"
Sucrose altruism,
back at the mental hospital id relived
every single second with you
thinking of your anger I read Tennessee William's letters
I loved you
I even loved your hatred.
A girl across the hall screaming
about Jesus and her ****
shouting singing Shenandoah
"But I don't need to be here,"
I turned to my roommate,
a strong figure I still admire,
"Everyone says that, even with a Thorazine needle halfway down their ***
They'd had a name for it
Something about kisses, I don't remember
"Yeah, it leaves a huge bruise on
your *** they laughed in the
tv parlor
there we were
The tristate area's teenage
girls too unstable for the world
a step above "*oh, you know how
teenagers are*"
A girl with grey eyes
Came in my last night there
"Is it normal to cry on your
first day?"
I wasn't allowed to
even touch her shoulder
and so
with the alcohol and the
Lamotrogine I tried to figure
out where it'd all gone wrong
but it'd been hiding in me
psychotic seed,
a virus carrier a patient zero of my own
tepid insanity!
Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 7:15 PM UTC
Bay and beach
Wind and waves
Sun and sand
Tools of play
And pools of pleasure
To herald rock and roll
Held me on one fine funny day
Whipping gripping sun
Running rolling waves
Breezing sprucing spray
Cuddling cradling swing
Seesaw Sea, a scene to see
An ebony boy for joy
Curled n’ squirreled
And scrubbed shiny sand
Made of wet velvet waves
Basked and bathed
Bathed and basked
And on and on and so on
Bath n’ bask filled his day
Cheerful crowd on a wild boating spree
Expert loner on his confident bouts
With batting waves for surfing thrill
All and sundry kindred, rid of color or creed
Joined n’ enjoyed nature’s extravaganza
Tots trotting helter-skelter
Splashing on slippery waves
Jubilant lads fad of hackney ride
Wayward youth awkward way forward
Trespassing bikini lasses passing by
Receding light inked in crimson red
Dipped glowing globe at the far end of sea
Paving way to the emerging coolant moon
To shower his delightful light for rest of night
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 10:38 AM UTC
Fever drives burning rubber and sweating coolant. I never thought this would be me; Living like a willow weeping stalagmite that drips in a cave, gutted of its most precious treasures. Volcanic emissions eat their way up my esophagus, acid refluxing, reflecting the queasiness vigorously sloshing in my abdomen. A motel's vacancy sign glows behind the round masses that sit within the bony sockets of my skull. Void of thought and reason, the cavernous hole that appears to swallow, swallowing my words, swallowing my tongue, swallowing my teeth one by one; Chiclets, sliding down into molten rock. Crumbling pieces of hope plunge, deteriorating, integrating with the earth, six feet down, bodies buried in boxes, confining cells of solitary. Laid out like a game of memory, time passes, and no one remembers who lays where.
Sep 11, 2017
Sep 11, 2017 at 9:05 PM UTC
Bay and beach
Wind and waves
Sun and sand
Tools of play
And pools of pleasure
To herald rock and roll
Held me on one fine funny day
Whipping gripping sun
Running rolling waves
Breezing sprucing spray
Cuddling cradling swing
Seesaw Sea, a scene to see
An ebony boy for joy
Curled n’ squirreled
And scrubbed shiny sand
Made of wet velvet waves
Basked and bathed
Bathed and basked
And on and on and so on
Bath n’ bask filled his day
Cheerful crowd on a wild boating spree
Expert loner on his confident bouts
With batting waves for surfing thrill
All and sundry kindred, rid of color or creed
Joined n’ enjoyed nature’s extravaganza
Tots trotting helter-skelter
Splashing on slippery waves
Jubilant lads fad of hackney ride
Wayward youth awkward way forward
Trespassing bikini lasses passing by
Receding light inked in crimson red
Dipped glowing globe at the far end of sea
Paving way to the emerging coolant moon
To shower his delightful light for rest of night
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 3:11 PM UTC
wildly winding mountain road
descending elevation blurs
careening towards freedom
the darkness seems to follow ~
white knuckled and madly steering
screeching wheels struggle to grip
gaskets swell with petroleum pressure
radiator coolant hisses and spits ~
a long exhale on a straight stretch
a droplet of harsh mortality
leaves the temple
and travels its own downhill journey
twisting along the neck
banking on the pectoral incline
picking up speed slaloming belly hair ~
slamming the transmission into first
engine whine echoes
howling moan bounces off canyon walls
as the cramp in my colon reaches
maximum ache
I drop the metaphor and head to the toilet /
Jul 7, 2016
Jul 7, 2016 at 5:19 PM UTC
I seek peace
in observing
all things
that flourish
around me.
There are greens
and deeper greens
galvanized
by daylight
to a shimmering effect.
But every drop
of coolant,
or subtle variation of sound,
every unexpected vibration
makes me anxious,
because I am hyper aware
that my safety will disappear
because it is an illusion.
The earth beneath my feet
has been dried and bleached
to the lightest brown possible.
I am still seeking stillness
but my roommate’s presence
is a jagged intrusion,
with irregular outburst
of unpredictable rage.
There is the sound of birds
whistling all around me
unperturbed
by the train I heard
in the distance.
I make it to work,
in time to observe
smiling stranger’s
who want to converse
with me,
and despite all distraction
there is a certain satisfaction
to that human interaction.
It is a peaceful moment.
Jul 3, 2018
Jul 3, 2018 at 10:19 AM UTC
Salt in the coolant,
cod-liver oil in the oil:
winter-ready car!
Oct 17, 2022
Oct 17, 2022 at 3:53 AM UTC